“Intriguing, don’t you think, dear heart?”Xyrath asked, never dropping his gaze from Halithe.It was a possessive look.A calculated look.The kind of look you gave a horse.Or a sword.
That was fine.She was calculating too.
“Dangerous…” Satia responded.
“The winds favor the bold, beloved.”Xyrath chuckled.“Besides, all we will do is provide Lady Halithe with chambers in the Castle, a stipend, and access to books.”His smile widened.“What she chooses to do from there is all on her.”
Tarwain stepped forward, clearly seething.“Your Majesty—”
“Come, Lord Marshal.”Xyrath’s smile vanished.“She has more value to Us for her skills then as a baby-maker.”
There wasn’t much her father could say to that.
The Queen leaned forward, intent on Halithe.“Could you break—” she caught herself.“Could you undo a spell?”
Halithe smiled, projecting as much confidence as she could.With a thought, she extinguished the fire in her hands, reignited the torches, then folded her hands into her sleeves.“With study and practice,” Halithe mimicked the sonorous tones of her mentor, “who knows what is possible?”
The Queen leaned back, giving Halithe a long, considering look.She turned to Xyrath and gave him a sharp nod.
“There, you see?”Xyrath rose and descended from the dais.“We will see this done, Lady Halithe.You will be installed in Ritathan’s old chambers.Not sure where we stuffed all his goods, but they’re here somewhere.”He waved his arm about, vaguely.“Satia, my love, can one of your women escort her?”
A quick movement, Caris pressed forward.
“Avice,” Queen Satia snapped.
Caris froze as blankness passed over her face.The Bond again, acting to protect itself.
“Well, enough talk,” Xyrath said.“I’m famished and they are holding dinner for us.”He laughed.“Hardly fair to keep the Lords and Ladies languishing over empty plates.Come, Satia, my love.”He held out his hand.
Satia rose, handing Ritathan’s chains to Avice.“Of course, my love.”She placed her hand in his and they headed for the doors.
Halithe faced her father, glaring at her with a rising fury.But before he could speak, Xyrath called over his shoulder, “Tarwain, do come along.”
Her father turned on his heel and followed.
With a rustle of skirts, the Bondmaidens surrounded her.“Come,” Avice said.
Halithe glanced at Caris and smiled.“I know the way,” she said to Avice, and strode toward the door, with her master’s old stride, and in her master’s old robes.
But her determination?
That was her own.
Chapter Forty-Four
The Farmstead in the Black Hills
Old Petro pulled his goat cart to a halt just outside the kitchen door of the farmhouse, where the snow had been packed down.“Yfin,” he bellowed.“Get out here and help the healer.”
Wethe rolled her eyes as she climbed off the cart, bringing her satchel with her.
Yfin ran out from the kitchen, his breath frosting in the air as he hurried over.“Lad, are you already outgrowing those pants?”Wethe asked as he drew closer.He got taller every day, lanky as a colt as he ran around the cart, his hands tucked under his arms for warmth.His normal grin was missing and his shoulders were hunched.
“I’ve no need of help,” the healer told him, slinging her satchel over her shoulder.“You and Petro take these goats to the barn and see to them.”
“Aye, climb up, lad,” Petro said.“We’ll stay in the barn and out from underfoot.We’ll be warm enough out there.”
Wethe could see the relief in Yfin’s eyes as he did what he was bid.
