“A true and lovely name,” Diara said. “And the priest was wrong. It is not wicked of you to draw those things. It shows that you are bright and extraordinary. Would you like for me to send him a missive and tell him so?”
Dorian’s eyes widened. “Are you not afraid of priests?”
Diara shook her head. “They are simply men,” she said. “And, between you and me, men can be wrong sometimes.”
She giggled, causing Dorian to grin. After a moment, Dorian moved from where she’d been sitting next to the ladder and came over to plant herself next to Diara. As they gazed at each other, Dorian slipped her hand into Diara’s.
“Would you like me to tell you about Helen and her cloud horses?” she asked.
Diara squeezed her cold, soft hand. “I would, indeed. Please tell me.”
Dorian, the lonesome little de Lohr, did.
CHAPTER NINE
Cicadia Castle
The messenger hadbeen wearing de Lohr colors.
Ananda happened to be crossing from the stable area toward the keep when she saw the messenger at the gatehouse. It was about midday beneath a fine and clear sky, and she had been busy inventorying the livestock in preparation for future meals. It was a mostly normal day in a series of abnormal days that had been clouded with the departure of Diara and Roi. That entire situation was still a mystery to Ananda, mostly because her husband seemed so upset over it.
To her, that didn’t make any sense.
Robin was the one who had pushed the de Lohr betrothal. He had been the one who hounded the family after the death of Beckett. Everything that had happened was because he had orchestrated it, and God only knew, he liked to control everything and everyone around him.
That was the husband she had come to know.
But ever since that evening when he had fallen and hit his face, something had been eating away at Robin. He was normally a social man and tended to get out quite a bit, but ever since that day, he had mostly stayed in his solar. WheneverAnanda tried to speak to him or bring him food, he would snap at her and tell her to get out. He wasn’t in any mood for conversation, and he certainly wasn’t in any mood to explain his problems to his wife.
Therefore, she had no idea what was wrong.
Ananda wasn’t the plotting sort. She wasn’t the type of wife who schemed or tried to trick her husband. She and Robin had always had a good partnership, or so she thought, but the de Lohr betrothal had changed something in him, and she wasn’t sure what it was because he wouldn’t talk to her.
There had been, however, an interesting visit from Lord Cirencester the day after Roi and Diara had left for Lioncross Abbey Castle. Riggs Fairford made an appearance, something the man did on occasion, since his seat wasn’t far from Cicadia, but this visit seemed to be different. It didn’t seem to be a social visit because he had entered Robin’s solar to talk to the man and ended up spending about twelve hours in the chamber. When he had finally emerged, it was simply to get on his horse and leave. Normally, he would have remained for a few days, indulged in Robin’s fine wine, eaten his share of good food, and departed for home when his gluttonous body could take no more.
But this visit had been different.
Ananda had no idea what to make of it.
So, she simply went about her business, and that included doing an inventory of the livestock on this day. As she crossed toward the keep, she noticed the de Lohr messenger at the gatehouse, and, curious about his appearance, she changed directions and headed toward the gate. As she drew near, Mathis left the messenger and approached her.
“My lady,” he said, holding out a vellum envelope. “A missive from Lioncross Abbey. It is addressed to both you and Lord Cheltenham.”
Ananda looked at it. It was a big yellow envelope with the blue wax de Lohr seal on it. She flipped it over to see that, indeed, her name was on it.
“I wonder what it is,” she said. “Did the messenger say anything?”
“Nay, my lady.”
“My nameison it.”
“It is, my lady.”
Even so, she was hesitant to open it. Robin opened all of the missives that arrived to Cicadia, but this one did have her name on it. She supposed that it was her right to open it before her husband did.
She proceeded.
Ananda, fortunately, could read. In a country where reading was not particularly encouraged for women, her mother had taught her, and she, in turn, had taught Diara. She continued to read the missive, her face lighting up when she was about halfway finished.
