Lord of Falcon Ridge Read Free Page B

sounds very complicated. I take it then that you’re the king’s daughter.”
    â€œYes, I’m Chessa.”
    â€œThat’s an unusual name.”
    â€œNot as unusual as the one I was given at birth.Everything changed when my father married Sira. Your name is unusual as well.”
    â€œPerhaps,” he said, “but I have grown to like it.”
    â€œYou have one gold eye and one blue eye, as if the gods couldn’t decide which would suit you best. They’re really quite nice.”
    â€œThe gods or my eyes?”
    She grinned up at him and shook her head.
    He waited, but she said nothing more. He smiled down at her as she silently braided her hair, and thought, She never once flinched at the sight of my face.
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    King Sitric’s chamber was large and airy, the walls white as a dove’s back, clean and free of spider webs. There were woven mats covering the packed earth floor. The furnishings were simple: a large box bed with several white wolfskins of great value spread over the top, a large carved mahogany chest at the foot of the bed for clothing. High-back chairs were arranged in small groupings, the king’s fashioned with finely etched chair posts as befitted his rank. He was eyeing his daughter, wondering why she’d come to his chamber unexpectedly, why she was pacing about like a young tigress. What on earth had set her off? She turned then and said, “I’m not at all certain I like him but he’s very handsome. It’s strange, but he doesn’t appear to realize it and thus puff himself up with his own conceit. Every handsome man I’ve ever met has believed himself fascinating to females. He has the look of a Viking with that golden hair of his, but I heard that he isn’t one of them. And his eyes. One is golden and the other is a deep deep blue. They’re beautiful, just as he is.”
    King Sitric raised a very black brow at his daughter’s words. “Mayhap you could tell me who this handsome man is that you’re not certain you like? Someone new here at the palace? Do I know him, this man with one golden eye and one blue eye?” But now he realized who she was talking about and he waited, so surprised he couldn’t find words to say in any case.
    â€œOf course you do, Father. He said he was Cleve of Malverne, come from Duke Rollo of Normandy. Surely he isn’t one of those Frenchmen. Why, they are all short and oily, like that minister who was here. He is tall and well made and—”
    King Sitric said very carefully, “You said Cleve of Malverne? From Duke Rollo?”
    â€œYes, he chanced to come into the garden behind my chamber. I demanded to know who he was and he had to tell me.”
    â€œHandsome, you think?”
    â€œOh, yes, but he’s like all the rest of those mealy-mouthed diplomats who come here wanting you to do things for their masters. He’s smooth as an adder in his speech but he doesn’t really say anything.”
    â€œPerhaps you are just a bit prejudiced, Chessa. I had hoped that by now you would have forgotten that unfortunate incident with Ragnor of York.”
    Her chin went up and her father smiled. She was so very different from her mother, soft-spoken, submissive Naphta, whom he’d loved more than wisdom and nearly more than his own life as well, but not more than his small daughter’s life.
    He hadn’t sought to temper his daughter’s forthrightness or her blunt candor. No, he’d had to leave her weapons so she could stand toe to toe with his witch of a second wife, who needed more discipline than he ever managed to mete out to her. She always distracted him with that lithe body of hers and her passion. By all the gods, her passion made him mad with lust even now after eight years. But he had to control her, for she was a witch, and he knew that she detested Chessa, seeing her as a threat, which was ridiculous.
    â€œI have forgotten