AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“One would think you might wish to be prepared to talk of one of our greatest rivals at a moment’s notice.” So very smooth. So very cruel.The king’s eyes move away from his daughter, and rest their gaze on me. “Who’s your new bedmate?” he asks, pinning me down in a way that might have intimidated one of his subjects. “No one I approved.”
I don’t let Reiks speak for me to this horrible, sexist man. “I am Alis Frejr.”
“A Frejr in our halls. You do make controversial decisions, child.” The king turns his attention back to Dyfina. I’m not worth bullying, I suppose.
Reiks winks at me.
Suddenly I understand exactly why he sought to useme. Why he couldn’t have brought anyone he genuinely enjoyed the company of here, and hoped for the best. My family’s weight is a shield in these halls, just like they are at Five.He needed someone powerful enough to withstand his father.
At long last, Dyfina’s ready. She plays for us.She’s good. Not great, but good enough, especially for someone who started violin recently, according to Reiks. Bring in some beats and I might lose myself in the sheer cheerfulness of her song. It doesn’t make my heartstrings vibrate like some songs from acclaimed olden masters, but it makes me want to celebrate. I could dance to her jive. I wouldn’t even need the thrall of a feast.
When she finishes on an unexpected high note, I stand to clap.
I’m the first to do so. As seconds pass and only silence fills the room, I realize I’m theonlyone.
What in the seven circles of the underworld is happening right now?
She’s aprincess. Even if she utterly sucked, courtiers should have at least pretended she didn’t. Instead, they’re silent. Some whisper amongst themselves. Others are watching her mutely as she bows.
Most of them look to their king, who sips his lukewarm tea in silence next to Reiks.
The porcelain hits the saucer and he sighs. “Well, I suppose she’ll try something else, next. Hopefully she’ll be more than passable.”
With that, I understand another layer of what’s going. It’s not that they didn’tenjoythe song. It was lovely. If I wanted to dance, I’m certain they did too. They’re just waiting for their king’s approval, and the king doesn’t approve of what his daughter is doing.
I’m not sure he approves of his son, either. Or of anything that’s not himself.
“You’ll stay for dinner, of course,” the king tells Reiks.
I’m so relieved when he declines. “We have classes early tomorrow. We should get going.”
“Classes.” The king snorts. “You’re to be king whether you’re a cretin or an erudite, child. Provided you live longer than I do. Still, I suppose you must pass your time somehow. Stay for dinner. The court will talk otherwise.” That’s not a suggestion. He doesn’t even wait for Reiks’s acquiescence. His dark eyes fall on me again. “What is it that you’re studying, girl?”
Girl? I’m twenty-fucking-three, not twelve. “Sciences,” I say, not bothering to elaborate.He doesn’t care, and I don’t want to speak to him more than I have to.
Unfortunately, it catches his interest. “Not sorcery? Aren’t dark spells, poisonous potions, and the like the usual fare of the Frejrs?”
“They are. Never said I was usual.”
He snorts, and turns back to his daughter, who’s folding her stand back up. “Your display was tolerable, daughter. I’m sure you may improve with practice. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
He rises and so does his harem, following him as he leaves the room with his head high, never glancing at the poor teenager who’s struggling not to cry in front of her court.
The men and women assembled in the hall sip their tea, ignoring her as well.
It’s insufferable.
I rise and cross the room, joining the girl. She must be somewhere between thirteen and fifteen, I can’t quite tell under her getup.I hold the top of the stand as she unscrews it.
“I…can manage.”
“But it’ll be faster with a hand.” I smile at her.
I may no longer be a witch, but the first fundamental rule of witchcraft instilled into all of us is that covens take care of each other. It’s our duty to see to the welfare of our youth. This court is her coven, and it’s letting her down so badly I ache for her.
“It was a nice song, you know,” I tell her. “If you were performing in the Darklands, you would have had imps and fawns stomping their feet on the forest floor, dancing in circles.”
Her jaw falls open. “You’ve met imps?”
