“The king requests your presence.”
“Ah, wonderful. When?”
“Immediately,” a low voice grumbled.
“Now is not a great time.” She laughed tightly.
The faerie said something Isahn couldn’t make out.
“Immediately,” the same man intoned.
“Oh,fine,” George gave in with a sigh. “And where am I to meet with Father?”
“Histriclinium,” a man with a gruff voice replied.
“I just need to grab mypalla,”she explained, her voice growing closer as she finished the statement.
Isahn eyed the embroidered wrap before snatching it up off of the chair for her.
“Princess,” the gruff voice cut in.
“Eanraig will escort me. Wait here.” George’s tone left no room for argument as she dipped back into the sitting room with the young faerie buzzing around her wayward curls.
“My father,” she offered, her voice softer than a whisper.
“I heard,” he mouthed, handing over her shawl.
“Princess, let’s go,” the gravelly soldier barked.
“Don’t dally on King Gasparo,” the low-voiced man drawled. “You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
George clenched her jaw and flicked her eyes almost imperceptibly toward the ropey hanging that cloaked the hidden passages. She slipped from the room.
“Oh no, I left my necklace in my washroom,” she grumbled loudly to the waiting guards.
“Let’s go, Princess.”
“It was thekeyto my outfit,” she whined.
Key, washroom,Isahn noted as George was whisked away.
The second the door clicked shut, Isahn rushed off to locate the key, finding it beneath her favorite rose-scented soap.
Soon after, he sped through the dark, narrow corridors with an oil lamp in one hand and his other clenched in a tight fist. The only other time Georgie met with her father, she’d planned the visit. The unexpected nature of this summons had his heart racing a million miles a minute.
He shaded his lamp before skidding to a stop at thetriclinium’speephole. It was easy to find after a few attempts at spying. Unfortunately, none of them were as successful as the first, when they’d overheard Peros and King Gasparo’s alarming and illuminating conversation.
Closing one eye, he peered through the hole while pushing a cord of water to the wall to better listen to the conversation. George was already there, standing between her father and the loaded table. The king lounged upon hislectusin a blood-redtoga. From his angle, Isahn could just make out his salt-and-peppered beard, tapered to a point beneath his chin. He’d have looked comically villainous if his meaty fingers weren’t gripping his daughter’s thigh.
That just made him a villain.
Isahn sneered.
“Tomorrow youwillbe at my banquet. Is that understood?”
George flinched as the king dug his fingertips into her flesh. “Yes, Father,” she ground out.
“Good. You haven’t graced my table since returning. I’ll not abide such insolent behavior again. Not on the opening night of the Great Assembly.” He released her leg. “You’ll be paired with an aide, like the viceroys.”
