AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good.” She liked him, outside of him treating her like a test subject. He had a practical way of viewing problems that appealed to her.
“Name the most common eye disorders and how they are diagnosed,” he said, switching from research mode to professor.
Lenore moved through a memorized list. Reciting facts was another thing Harol enjoyed inflicting on her. She was decent enough when it came to memorization; she’d have never made it through med school otherwise. Still, she felt like a child called to the front of the class. Arcosian eyes were complex; apparently, a thousand things could go wrong, and none of them had straightforward names like nearsightedness or detached retinas.
“These names are silly,” Lenore said in frustration. “It’s all curse of the red eye sorcerer and blooming revenge. Which, since I know you’re going to ask, is a genetic degenerative blindness. I’ll consult with a specialist.”
Harol was not impressed. “Memorization is not difficult. It is expected of all students. Is this what human medics do? Make jokes when they are confronted with the unknown?”
“We Google symptoms,” she snapped. “You know, I think I’m doing pretty well, considering that I’m reading in a foreign language, which a chip in my brain translates so I can commit it to memory. It’s not surprising there’s some lag in the uptake.”
Harol did not ask what Google was, probably believing it was a curious idiom. She spouted off enough of those that he no longer bothered to ask. “Review the material. We will continue tomorrow. Enjoy the sun. It will snow soon enough.”
A break sounded good. The palace and Royal Academy delivered on the best equipment, latest techniques, and skilled physicians that Baris promised, but it felt suffocating at times.
Lenore gathered her books and tablet into her bag and headed out into the winter night.
BARIS
“Will you have another glass?” Councilor Raelle motioned for the wine to be refilled.
“Thank you for the pleasant evening, but I must decline.” Baris rose from the table. Raelle followed, as did everyone else at the table.
Raelle gave her granddaughter, Nia, a sharp look and a not-so-subtle nudge.
“Can we offer you a drink to keep you warm? The night is bitterly cold,” Nia said.
Dinner with the councilor had been a necessity. Her invitations to dine could not be put off indefinitely, not with her grandson in control of Baris’ schedule. The councilor was in the midst of a campaign to find Baris a new mate, bringing up the subject at every opportunity. She had lists of suitable candidates, complete with medical records. Dossiers on the families and the secrets that could be exploited. Analysis of potential unions, both the benefits and the fallout. She would not relent until Baris surrendered.
He knew he must; he simply did not wish to. It was childish. Selfish, even. Deciding it was better to get the ordeal over with quickly rather than prolong the pain, he agreed to a meal in Raelle’s palace suite.
Instead of charts and lists, he was greeted by Raelle’s granddaughter, Nia. They had met before. Being expected to be seen at social functions was inevitable with a politician for a mother. He did not know her well but recognized her on sight.
Nia was pleasant enough. Attractive. Able to hold a moderately interesting conversation. She met all the qualifications to be a candidate for marriage. Raelle continuously steered the conversation to Nia’s accomplishments. Her karu had chosen her almost the instant she set foot in the temple at Miria. They enjoyed an incredibly strong bond. She was a fashion designer. The court couldn’t get enough of her designs that season. She was the top of her class at the design institute. She spoke several languages without the aid of a translation chip. She could play musical instruments. She had such a charming sense of humor. On and on.
Raelle walked Baris to the small foyer. She took a breath as if to launch into another speech on Nia’s virtues.
“I do not appreciate being ambushed by a matchmaking mother,” Baris said, stopping her before she started.
Raelle pressed a hand to her chest. “I would never. Nia is visiting. Am I not allowed to have dinner with my child?”
“This subterfuge does not suit you.” Baris shrugged on his greatcoat with the help of a servant.
“Very well. My granddaughter is a good match. Uniting the Frostwings and the Shadowmarks is beneficial to us both. I cannot be blamed for putting her in your path.”
“And how does she feel about being placed in my path?”
“Honored,” Raelle said without a moment’s hesitation. “As anyone would be.”
He seriously doubted that, but he could not fault her ambition. It was one of the qualities that made her a valuable councilor. The problem was if the other councilors learned that Raelle used a private dinner to campaign for her own granddaughter to be queen, then they would follow. It would be chaos—every well-heeled noble family would trot out their wares, and Baris would drown in a sea of social invitations.
No. It had to stop immediately.
“I appreciate that I must take a mate, but you must cease these tactics,” Baris said.
She dipped her head. “I understand.”
He seriously doubted she’d give up scheming so readily, but he accepted her statement with grace and left.
