AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He doesn’t look anything like the guy who plays him in the series, either,” says Tammy.
“The actor is way too pretty for Anvar Londuin.” Lindsey shrugs. “I’m not going to complain, though.” She heads toward the ruined tower. “It has to be him. No one else here would be painting. He’s also one of those rich guys who doesn’t like throwing his money in everyone’s face. He wears cheap clothing when he’s working with paint so he doesn’t ruin his nicer things.”
“Makes sense.” I shrug and follow.
We approach the mini-tower. It’s difficult for me to say what destroyed it. The upward angle to the break in the wall makes me picture someone kicking a sandcastle over. Do they have giants in this world? Nothing looks like an obvious sign of violence, so perhaps it simply fell apart due to age and weathering.
The man stops painting, leaning away from the easel as he’s no doubt heard us approaching.
“Anvar?” calls Lindsey.
“What is it now?” The painter sighs in exasperation. “I am already aware the meal will be ready soon. I told you I required another twenty minutes. It has only been six.”
“Is that a yes?” whispers Allison.
Anvar shifts around to look at us, evidently surprised at hearing more than one voice. “You’re not one of our staff.”
“Nope.” Lindsey smiles as she gestures at us. “Allow me to introduce Lord and Lady Kingsley, of Stonnebrin.”
“Oh,” replies Anvar in an unimpressed, almost bored tone while dabbing his brush at the palette in his left hand. “I wasn’t aware Stonnebrin had nobility. Whatever are you doing out here, in my vineyard?”
I walk up to the crumbling wall; it’s the perfect leaning-on height. “We thought it would be lovely to make our way around and meet everyone. It’s good to see not every noble of Frostmarch takes themselves too seriously.”
He stops dabbing to stare at me. “What do you mean by that?”
“Your ordinary clothes, that you’re out here amid this ruin rather than working in the comfort of a study.” I look at the canvas… seems like a fairly generic sort of landscape painting showing a meadow meeting the edge of a forest. Something that might be on the wall of a truck stop diner. He’s not a bad artist, merely the scene is kind of plain as though he’s painting it just for the practice at rendering grass and trees. “Since you are pressed for time, I shall get right to the point. What are your thoughts on the current unrest? Specifically, the assassinations?”
Anvar stares at me for a long moment. His expression is unreadable. Not sure if I offended him, worried him, or something else. “I abhor politics. The assassinations are of no concern to me. I do not see why I or my family would be any concern of yours.”
“I’ve been told your family’s political influence is considered weak.” I concentrate on his mental energy, ‘sniffing’ at it. Seems as normal as anyone else here. Grr. So that’s useless. Every noble has felt normal. One of them has to be Nesanth, so either I’ve ‘sniffed’ her and she hides her stink or the impostor is one of the nobles I haven’t personally met yet.
“I am aware of that.” Anvar resumes painting, adding more flowers to the meadow. “It has never bothered me. My father’s aspirations are not mine. The only thing I desire of this world is to create art and enjoy life.”
“Father?” says Kingsley, lowering his voice. “Isn’t this guy the head of House Londuin?”
“His father, Hamnas, died in the third book,” whispers Lindsey. “He had this whole elaborate scheme in motion to get House Barathor and House Normund fighting each other in open war, then set things up so it looked like Queen Lysania tricked them into fighting. The noble houses would depose the queen, and somehow, this would let Hamnas Londuin take the crown for himself.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t work out as he planned?” Kingsley chuckles.
“Nope.” Lindsey makes a face as if watching a car accident happen in slow motion. “Barathor and Normund’s armies fought for a few weeks until the plot to blame the queen for treachery came out. At first, they couldn’t decide if Queen Lysania had gone mad, was cursed, or happened to be malevolent. The truth came out it had all been Hamnas’ plan during the execution of the queen. He’d gone there to watch and gloat… and it ended up being him going under the axe.”
I’m not a superfan, says Allison’s voice in my head. I did read the books a while back. I seem to recall a joke that Anvar would be richer if he didn’t drink more of his family’s wine than they sold. He likes to party.
The guy’s a little old to be a frat boy, mid-thirties if I had to guess… though, he does kind of have that lazy, unwashed sort of look like the unemployed slacker who should’ve moved out of his parent’s house ten years ago and gotten a job.
“Rather brave of you to sit out here by yourself, unarmed, when assassins are about,” I say. “You seem unconcerned. Do you think they’re only going to try to kill you the one time?”
“I am unconcerned.” Anvar dabs his brush at his palette. “Whoever is paying them certainly knows it would be a waste of money to send them after me again. My family being eligible to make a claim for the throne does not mean I intend to do so. Quite the opposite.”
Kingsley chuckles. “Are you so sure the one behind this plot cares about your intention? You could tell everyone you have no desire to be king now… and as soon as all the other nobles are dead, you change your mind. That you could pursue a claim to the throne makes you a target.”
“If they intend to slay me, then I shall endeavor to enjoy the life I have left as much as possible before my time is at an end.” He glances over at us. “I am hosting a party tomorrow night. If you are open to surrendering to the pleasures of this world, I would welcome you as guests. Perhaps I could even paint some of you…”
The guy gives Lindsey and me a pointed stare, clearly trying to imagine our clothes off. Before I can process how to react to this, he gives the same stare to Kingsley along with a slightly raised eyebrow. I can practically hear George Takei saying ‘oh my’ as he takes in the big guy’s size and muscles. Okay, I’m not amused he leered at me. I’m a bit caught off guard he leered at Kingsley. When he starts to leer at Tammy, I’m done.
I step in front of her. “We have prior commitments and will not be able to attend.”
“Ahh, shame.” Anvar sighs, then resumes dabbing flowers into the meadow. “This world is too full of despair and cruelty. One should seek every opportunity to find delight while we are able to. If we do not find ourselves on the wrong end of a madman’s blade, it will be all too soon before we are too old to enjoy existing.”
