The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(113)

“Would that be a good thing?” Léirsinn asked, trying not to wipe her hands on her dress. She had never in her life been nervous. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about experiencing the same at the moment.

“Rigaud would happily be rid of them both, but he’s not overly fond of Acair. I suppose the best we can hope for tonight is avoiding bloodshed.” She smiled. “I’ll go see that my wee son is settled, then see you for supper, aye?”

Léirsinn nodded because it was expected. She would have preferred to have been looking around her for somewhere to hide, but she suspected Morgan knew that. The queen gave her another encouraging smile, then left the chamber.

She wondered how long she could reasonably stay behind before she was missed, or if it might be possible to plead a headache and miss the evening altogether. She stopped in front of the polished glass and looked at herself reflected there. It was difficult to believe what she was seeing, but then again, she had only seen herself a pair of times in her uncle’s house and that mirror hadn’t been nearly so fine. Perhaps a horse trough full of still water was of less use than she’d believed.

She took a deep breath, smoothed down her skirts that didn’t need smoothing, then turned and faced the door. It was simply supper and dancing. She could plead ignorance about the latter and ignore the fact that Mansourah of Neroche had taken the time to teach her a pair of patterns so she wouldn’t look the fool. Supper, she thought she could manage all on her own.

She left her chamber and pulled the door shut behind her. A page stood across from her chamber door, apparently waiting for her. He made her a polite bow, then smiled.

“After me, if you will, my lady.”

She didn’t bother to correct his form of address and instead simply followed him down the passageway, around a corner, and into disaster.

Prince Mansourah was standing there. So was Acair. Léirsinn skidded to a halt, almost twisting her ankle in the damned shoes Mistress Wardrobe had insisted that she wear. She would have fallen on her face if she hadn’t latched onto the first arm thrust out in front of her.

“Don’t.”

She had supposed that had been directed at her, but once she regained her footing and caught the breath she’d lost in a terrified rush, she realized she was holding on to Mansourah’s forearm and Acair was definitely not talking to her.

“I believe—”

“That you won’t live till sunrise if you don’t compliment this stunning woman on her gown, then take yourself off to the safety of a seat behind your brother the king? A quite useful thought, I daresay, and one I suggest you pursue with all diligence.”

Léirsinn gingerly released Mansourah’s arm and eased backward a step. If there was one thing she knew very well, it was never to step between two stallions in the midst of the usual business of asserting their positions. She smiled briefly at Mansourah, noting his very elegant suit of clothes, then looked at the man who had absolutely no business mucking out stalls to earn his bread. Acair of Ceangail was, she had to admit in a way that left her feeling as if she’d never done anything more substantial in her life besides admire handsome men, absolutely stunning.

It was no wonder he spent so much time hobnobbing with nobility. If she’d had a crown hiding in the back of her tack room, she would have issued him a standing invitation to supper herself.

He reached for her hand and tucked it under his elbow in his accustomed way, then looked at Mansourah and flicked at him as if he’d been an annoying fly.

“Begone. Live another day.”

Mansourah only pursed his lips. “You, my friend, have absolutely nothing to use to enforce your threats.”

“I won’t embarrass your brother by breaking your nose before supper with my fists alone,” Acair said shortly.

Mansourah looked at him, smirked briefly, then turned to Léirsinn and made her a low bow. “A dance later, if milady would be so inclined. Thank you for a lovely afternoon. And you are stunning in that gown.”

Léirsinn caught the look Acair sent Mansourah and would have smiled but there was something about him that was . . . changed. She waited until the prince of Neroche had departed for safer ground before she turned to another lad with royal blood in his veins and studied him.

“What happened?” she asked bluntly.

He smiled, but it was the sort of polite smile she’d watched him give to others without truly meaning it. “Nothing.”

“You don’t lie.”

He blew hair out of his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

“Did you see Prince Soilléir?”

“Aye.”

She looked behind him to find the spell that followed him standing there, obviously still following him. She met Acair’s eyes quickly. “Oh.”

He took a deep breath, turned toward her, then put his hands lightly on her shoulders. He very carefully leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

She would have smiled, but she could feel his hands trembling as they rested on her shoulders. “I’m sure that isn’t the case, but I appreciate the compliment just the same.” She reached up and covered his hands with hers. “What can I do?”

“Stop being kind to me before you drive me to tears.”