Page 56 of Immortal Sentry

Would Eron have learned to arrange hair if his younger sister had survived, or would that task have always fallen to his motheror a servant? “You make me long for the younger sister who died.”

Kerric's voice was a low murmur. “My mother was there in the end. Your mother’s last thoughts were for her husband and children.”

Aha, a chance to learn more about Kerric. “If you don’t mind me asking, whatever became of your family?” Dwelling too much on his own mother might reduce Eron to tears.

“I do not mind.” Eron heard the smile in Kerric’s voice without having to look directly. “After your mother passed, Mother could no longer bear to be here. Your father settled a goodly sum of coins on her, and Mother moved to Spolsia to live with her sister.” A frown spread across Kerric’s face, and he looked away. “I overheard that she died shortly after I was cursed, likely wondering what happened to her son.”

“Do you miss her?” What kind of question was that? Eron missed his mother, and he barely remembered her.

Kerric's voice was choked. “Because of circumstances beyond my control, I didn’t see her after she left the castle. I could not be with her at the end.”

“Do you have any other family you’d like to see? Aunts? Uncles? Cousins? Once you can travel again?” Eron would want to see family. Couldn’t wait to see Lessa and her sons.

“It’s… complicated.” Kerric quickly returned his gaze to Eron’s face and moved to a different topic. “Now, remember Miisov’s instructions. You cannot seek out Queen Lessa. If you find yourself close to her, make excuses to move away, but be unobtrusive. We don’t want courtiers seeing you two with your very similar heads together, even if Miisov’s illusion spells hold. Why tempt fate?”

Fate. Bah! “Where will you be?”

Kerric brushed imaginary lint from Eron’s shoulders. “I’ll be at my usual post on the ramparts but will be there if you need me.So far, I don’t think any of Bain’s men have noticed the missing gargoyle. The quality of soldiers has fallen since my time. Nevertheless, I’ll keep watch for anyone who shouldn’t be there. Miisov doesn’t want me near the ballroom. My appearance hasn’t changed enough to hide me, and the silver hair would draw unwanted attention. Crau knows me very well.”

Was that an invitation to visit? Eron could hope.

Kerric ushered Eron toward the door with a hand to the small of his back. “I’m glad the days are short during the fall season, allowing us our time alone. However, now you must join the other nobles. You are to arrive in time to socialize, but not too early. The less you mingle with these vultures, the better, and the less opportunity to come face to face with your sister. Immediately after the meal, approach the main table, pay your respects to the king and his guests, and then return to your rooms. Your guards will attest to your being here all night.”

“I think Bain underestimates me.” Eron grinned. “That’s never gone well for people in the past.”

Kerric made a final adjustment to Eron’s tunic, his hands lingering in certain places, causing pleasant feelings in Eron’s chest and stomach. “I would imagine not, Lordling Night.” He brushed a kiss over Eron’s hair.

Chapter Twenty-one

Gatherings at Kene’s estate hadn’t fully prepared Eron for the pomposity of the king’s banquet. Guests wore clothing so ostentatious they could hardly move freely. Oh, to have been hunting on the road when their expensive carriages passed. The price of one woman’s necklace could’ve fed two villages for seasons upon seasons.

Eron’s fingers itched to steal, and he mentally plotted which baubles he’d take and how. Then he’d sigh and move on.

Kene kept a comfortable home but never tried to lord her position over others. Several merchants in the nearby town had comparable dwellings—maybe not with exquisite stolen crystal goblets, but close.

Eron mingled, speaking softly when spoken to but not seeking anyone out on his way to his designated table, where he’d join two dignitaries, their spouses, and a merchant couple. Four murmured offers came his way for a later rendezvous as he passed—offers he didn’t decline outright but was careful not togive false hope. There’d been a time when he’d have jumped at the chance for a bit of dalliance with the prettiest of them. Now, however, his thoughts were only for one man. Gargoyle. Whatever.

Eron spotted Lessa several times, but the gathered crowd kept her at a distance. Her radiance needed no jewelry to enhance her beauty. The simple green stones adorning her ears and neck might have once belonged to their mother. Even dressed rather plainly in comparison to some, she stood out as a rose among thorns.

She laughed, smiled, and otherwise charmed all she spoke to, acting nothing like the miserable spouse of a pompous man. If memory served, she’d always been an astounding actress.

Her husband, whom none seemed to want to talk to, glared at her, seething. No love lost there. Eron approached on a contrary impulse. No one told him to avoid his loathsome brother-by-law.

They also hadn’t told him he couldn’t take the man up to see the gargoyles and give him a hearty push over the edge. Too tempting. A pity the king’s guards wouldn’t allow it.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.” Eron bowed enough to satisfy etiquette but not a hair’s breadth more.

King Selin nearly bristled. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” He raked a critical gaze over Eron, from fashionably tousled hair to the tip of his new boots. Selin’s sneer said he didn’t like speaking to people who hadn’t been introduced because he’d yet to learn if they were worth his time. Being this close, Eron noticed every gray hair, every wrinkle, every other flaw on the impeccably dressed man. Too bad tailors couldn’t repair character flaws.

Miisov approached and threw a comradely arm around Eron. “Your Majesty, may I present Lord Edry of Estia?”

Eron bowed again, this time not as deeply as before, leaving just a hint of a disdainful smirk on his lips. “At your service, Your Majesty,” he uttered in Estian.

Lines formed between the king’s brows. So, he hadn’t bothered learning the language of Estia. Arrogant or undereducated? Most noble families of Eron’s knowledge trained children from an early age to better enable them to deal with other monarchies.

Miisov raised a brow. Eron simply grinned. That would teach the man for underestimating Eron, and Kene, by extension, since she’d ensured Eron’s education included all the major languages of Ala.

The king’s hostility eased but didn’t completely disappear. Then he spoke. “Miisov. You haven’t had the good graces to die, I see.”

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