Page 30 of Valdemar

“I wish I had it,” Hakkon said enviously. “That would be—above everything!”

“I can certainly do that, King,” Lythe agreed. “Am I now to teach all your dogs to be housebroken?” It sounded like she was more than willing to take that on.

“Only if you want to. I’m mostly asking you to do this with Kirren as a favor to Hakkon’s mother, who is not entirely pleased about the idea of cleaning up after a puppy.” Kordas smiled. “Housebreaking takes time, and there are always accidents.”

“There may still be accidents,” she temporized. “But there will be fewer of them. Yes, I can do this.” She got to her feet again, and Kirren returned to the feet of his master, looking well pleased with himself.

Kordas turned to Hakkon. “Take him back to the kennels now. Tell your mother I’ll be along shortly.”

“Thank you, Father!” Hakkon crowed, very obviously thrilled that he was going to be able to bring his pet into their rooms much sooner than he had thought. He and the pup trotted off into the darkness in the direction of the lights of the Palace.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be, Delia?” Kordas asked, turning to the young woman with the certainty that she’d take the hint.

Which she did. “Actually, I do. Alberdina and I have some things to go over. Here, take my lantern. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Lythe,” she added cheerfully, then it was her turn to vanish into the darkness. At least, from Kordas’s point of view. Lythe could probably still see her.

“I’d like to talk with you a bit more, Lythe. Will you walk with me?” Kordas asked.

“Of course,” she said, but her tone signaled reluctance.

Hmm. I sent her friend away, and now she’s sulking, but she doesn’t dare make it obvious or argue with me.That didn’t bode overly well for the conversation he intended to have with her, but . . . well, that didn’t matter. He was older, and much more used to manipulating people than she was. She’d tell him what he wanted to know whether she realized it or not.

He didn’t need vrondi for this, though he had asked for their help in ferreting out the truth several times in the last ten years. She was utterly transparent; he’d know if she lied.

So they walked on the paths between the vegetable and herb beds, and he asked innocuous questions. What were her friends like back home? What was her village like? What had her life been like? How were things now for the two of them, her and Rothas?

Delia’s version of her story was all very well, but Delia wanted to be her friend. Kordas’s view of her was that she was lifebonded to someone who could become a weapon—and through that lifebond could, potentially, affect Rothas’s mental and emotional stability. That was a bad position to be in.

He had been afraid that she would be reluctant to talk to him. He kept his tone light, but curious, and leaned heavily on being an amiable figure of authority. Soon she was chattering away guilelessly.

“Oh, my friends. They were always complaining that their parents would be angry if they stayed out too late, but they never stood up for themselves like I did.” Her tone was dismissive enough that he was fairly sure that these were less friends than the only people my age in the village. Her only peers. And she didn’t think much of them, after coming away and discovering how much more the world held.

She also didn’t think much of the fact that they didn’t disobey their parents just to please her, so she must, as a younger girl than she was now, have gotten very used to the fact that they generally would do what she wanted if it pleased her.

“Geffird’s Well was so small. I had no idea how small it was before we met the Tayledras. And almost everyone was already spoken for—for marriage, I mean. Most of my friends were already betrothed by their parents. The only boys near my age were Lerys and Timman, the only ones not betrothed to someone, but my mother wouldn’t have stood for them anyway. Nobody’s parents would have them for their daughters; they’d never inherit their farm, they’d always be working for their da or their big brother. I didn’t like them as a husband anyway. Mother wanted me to—” She stopped and shook her head. “But she knew it was no use, because she’d have had to drag me to the priest tied to a hurdle.”

Crickets sang in the silence between them. So far his reading was tending back to definitely spoiled and a bit thoughtless. Not bad, she wasn’t a bad girl, but he sympathized with her mother.

On the other hand, I have to think that her mother is mainly responsible for her being the way she is now. Probably indulged her, because it’s hard not to indulge a pretty child. And it was clear that her mother had had a much older man in mind for her daughter. Probably someone who had already buried one or more wives. It was also clear that Lythe saw no future for herself as anything but someone’s wife, and she was trying to put that future off as long as she could. And in that, he sympathized with her, not her mother.

“Well, what did you want to do?” he asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

“I . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t . . . I tried not to think about it,” she admitted. But something about the way she said it made him think it was . . . less than the truth. She had thought about it, but probably hoped that one day a handsome stranger would come into her village and ask her to marry him and take her away to some place grand and interesting.

And plenty of girls dream of just that.Delia certainly had. And she almost got her wish too, except for the tedious fact that her rescuer was married to her sister.

Which might explain why Delia has decided to be friends with Lythe.

Then they got to what he really wanted to know. What, exactly, was the relationship between her and the boy? Lifebonded didn’t mean love. It usually did, but not always.

And it was entirely possible that if they hadn’t been lifebonded when they met, they would have hated each other. Both, being extraordinarily good-looking, were accustomed to being the center of attention, not sharing the center of attention. Both were headstrong. Both were . . . an amiable sort of arrogant. He suspected Rothas of having been spoiled as much as Lythe.

“And are you all right here?” he asked, as Trusty trundled alongside them, occasionally stopping to sniff the air for a particularly interesting scent. “I know it’s not as comfortable and nice as a Tayledras Vale, but it’s probably closer to what you know.”

“It’s . . .” She sighed. “It’s very nice here. Nicer than home! But there aren’t many people awake except the guards, and they aren’t allowed to talk to me for too long, because I have to keep making the rounds on the wall. I haven’t really seen anything of the Palace, and nothing of Haven. It’s all so different from Geffird’s Well! And from the Hawkbrother Vale.” She sighed again. “And Rothas is only awake for a candlemark or so, and when he is, he wants to talk about what he’s learned, what he’s been doing, all the compliments he’s been getting. He never takes me to meet people, or see anything. I mean, I know that we don’t have very much time together, and no one else would be awake at dawn but people who have jobs to do, but . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced at him with an expression of guilt, as if she was afraid that she was asking too much.

Ah, yes, there it is. Definitely jealousy of a sort. Her handsome stranger never takes her to meet all the important people here. Everyone she encounters otherwise except Delia is too busy with their own concerns to pay any attention to her. She’s feeling very neglected and it’s at least partly Rothas’s fault.

“But don’t you want to spend the little time you have with Rothas?” he said.

“Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know!” she cried, her voice breaking. “It’s—I have to be with him, but I don’t even know anything about him!”

“Didn’t anyone ever explain being lifebonded to you?” he asked with astonishment.

She stopped. “The Hawkpeople did, and . . . it’s like being in love, but you can’t help it, and you can’t stop it, and it’s for as long as you live,” she replied in a tremulous voice. “It . . . it sounds like a wonder tale, unless it’s happening to you.”

That may be the first sensible thing I have heard out of her.

Trusty sensed her distress, and plastered himself against her leg, whining a little. It was at that point that Kordas made a decision.

“Come with me,” he said firmly. “You’re off wall duty for the night.”

“All right,” she agreed readily enough. “But where are we going?”

He smiled. “To meet my wife.”