The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(100)

“There’s a mercy,” Acair said with a sigh. “And I don’t think I thanked you properly for the rescue. Very kind and, I will admit, rather unexpected.”

“Hard to turn over a new leaf without a bit of help,” Miach said with a faint smile. “You’re welcome. Perhaps after a late supper, you can tell me what the hell you’ve been doing that stirred up that hornet’s nest following you. There were at least a dozen of them and they were definitely not novices.”

Léirsinn watched the fire burning between her and Acair and listened to discussions of things she had to admit she now had no trouble believing. Patches of shadow, mages who didn’t care for having them stepped in, Droch of Saothair, supper at Sgath and Eulasaid’s table, then an endless number of other things. She realized after a certain point that she had stopped paying any heed to what they were discussing. They were under the cover of spells and starlight and she was perfectly happy to watch the heavens and let talk of mages and magic wash over her.

“I think we’ve bored her past all endurance,” Miach remarked.

Léirsinn came back to herself and realized they were both simply watching her. She smiled. “Forgive me. I was thinking of nothing.”

“Acair does that often,” Miach said.

“You could only wish to reach the superior quality of my thoughts,” Acair said with a snort. “But don’t trouble yourself overmuch, Miach my lad. Locked here in this rustic hovel of yours, you won’t need them.”

Miach only laughed. “And you think I’ll let you inside my gates now?”

“If I were polite, you would suspect me of nefarious intentions,” Acair said. “Insulting you is likely my only hope of having any supper.”

Miach stared at him for several minutes in silence, then looked at Léirsinn. “Does he do that often?”

“Do what?”

“Blurt out those bits of uncomfortable truth?”

“He is blunt,” Léirsinn conceded. She smiled faintly. “Is he right?”

“I’m embarrassed to say he is.” Miach rose and looked at Acair. “My apologies.”

Acair huffed a bit as he pushed himself to his feet, then pulled Léirsinn to hers.

“I believe my ears have failed me, but I won’t make you repeat that for my benefit. Know that I fully intend to hide behind you if I manage to get past your front gates without them falling on me out of habit.”

“Have you ever been inside Tar Neroche?”

Acair smiled. “Before you were born, my little mage king. Your honored sire and I had spirited words together in the garden. I only got off a few choice insults before your mother came out and frightened the hell straight from me.”

Miach smiled. “I’d like to hear that tale in full. Over sour wine in my tower chamber later, perhaps?”

“I’m sure you would enjoy it,” Acair said, “for she, as my father’s father would say, took me to the woodshed and beat a few manners into me. A remarkable woman, Queen Desdhemar. I believe she even gave my father pause.”

Léirsinn wondered if Acair knew he was endlessly keeping hold of her hand to tuck it under his arm or if that was just habit. Courtly manners, perhaps, beaten into him by Miach’s mother.

She suspected he was going to need them.

“I would definitely like to hear that tale,” Miach said with a smile, “as would several of my brothers. Let me feed you, then you can repay us with it. You might even manage to make it to dessert that way.”

“One could hope,” Acair said. He looked at her, then nodded toward the keep. “Safety.”

“For me, at least,” she conceded.

“I’ll hide behind you,” Acair said. “Miach too, if necessary.”

“Perhaps your lovely manners will be enough to save you,” she offered, then she lost her train of thought as they made their way to the castle.

The road there led past walls that seemed to tilt outward just the slightest bit, no doubt to intimidate and frighten. She understood completely.

In time, she walked through massive gates and into what she supposed was the main courtyard. She wondered if the time would ever come where she didn’t feel like a rustic miss who had never seen anything more grand than an ordinary supper laid out on a table inside a manor house she wasn’t free to enter.

She feared not.

? ? ?

Half an hour later, she realized that while she was perhaps a bit closer to a meal in a fine house than usual, it was going to take a bit of talking from her two escorts before she was going to be able to sit down to it.

She had been right about the need for courtly manners. She found herself in the private dining chamber of the palace of Neroche, a place that was far grander than anything she had ever seen in her life. She would have perhaps more successfully gaped at it, but she was standing with her nose pressed against Acair’s back while he had his nose pressed against Miach’s back. If he removed his nose, it was only to shout the occasional apology or bellow a prettily spoken compliment. Neither was being received very well.

“Are you daft?” someone shouted furiously. “What in the bloody hell are you thinking to allow that piece of refuse in here?”

“Thank you for your opinion, Rigaud,” Miach said calmly. “I’ll take responsibility for him.”