Page 110 of First Light

“We’re not like humans in the Brightlands,” Elanor said. “And you are family. Please.” She motioned to a servant to pull out Carys’s chair. “Eamer, this is your daughter’s Brightkin, Carys Morgan.”

Eamer, despite her pinched mouth, had kind blue eyes. “It’s very nice to see you again, Carys. We didn’t get a chance to speak at the banquet, and I have been busy with state business.”

“I’m glad we can speak now,” Carys said. “It’s been wonderful to get to know King Dafydd a bit.”

“I’m sure you have much to talk about,” Eamer said. “And I’m sure you have many questions.”

Aisling laughed. “Carys is full of questions. As much as Seren always was.”

Eamer sent her niece a look, and Aisling went silent.

“That seems natural to me.” Elanor sat down. “I’m sure if I ever visited the Brightlands, I’d have many questions as well.”

As soon as Queen Elanor sat, the servants began bustling around the table, serving the food and filling goblets with water and cider. Carys took a portion of eggs and sausages, eager to fill her empty belly with food that smelled amazing.

She’d been sticking with the apples, cheese, and bread that Duncan brought most days. Cadell didn’t want her eating much of anything unless he could smell it, and Cadell wasn’t always around. But eating food from the queen’s personal table seemed as safe as she could get.

Carys glanced at Aisling. “I feel like I know you a little bit already from knowing your niece, Queen Eamer. Aisling has been a great friend since I came to the castle.”

Eamer looked at Aisling. “My niece has a true heart and a generous one. She trusts easily.”

Aisling beamed. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“I didn’t say it was a good thing.”

Queen Eamer was less intimidating on close inspection. She had areserved demeanor and a quiet voice. Her hair was deep brown, the color of stained walnut, and she had blue eyes the same color as Aisling’s set in an angular face.

Her features were dramatic at a distance but almost awkward on close inspection. She looked tired, tension evident in the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Carys wondered if she was the type of person who didn’t sleep well in a foreign bed.

“I understand there are a lot of meetings and things like that on a visit like this.” Carys took a bite of sausage and nearly rolled her eyes in happiness.

“Indeed there are.” Eamer glanced at Elanor. “The men always think they don’t need our input, but if we left them to their own devices, I imagine not a single child in Briton would know how to read.”

“Not a village child anyway.” Aisling looked at Carys. “It was Queen Elanor’s mother who pushed for public schooling funded by the local lords across Briton. She was well-traveled and worried that Anglian children were falling behind foreign populations.”

“They were,” Eamer said bluntly.

“So there are public schools now?”

“For boys and girls up to age fifteen,” Elanor said. “After that, most of them choose to work, but there are some universities for higher learning and of course there are mage schools.”

“The mage schools are very exclusive,” Eamer said. “It’s rare for them to take children not from high-born families.”

“My aunts were both educated in the fae court.” Aisling lifted her chin proudly. “As was my mother.”

“The art and music of the fae surpasses anything that humans can produce,” Elanor said graciously. “A very fortunate education.”

Eamer asked Carys, “And where were you educated?”

“Uh…” She set down her water goblet. “I went to a… village school in Baywood, where I grew up, and my father was a teacher there. It was small, but the teachers were great. And I went to a university not far from where I grew up.”

“A university.” Aisling’s eyes glittered. “No wonder you became a professor.”

“Oh well.” She glanced around the table. “I’m not a full professor yet. I teach though. And hopefully with enough experience and some more published work?—”

“What do you teach?” Eamer asked.

Carys cleared her throat. “My specialty is world mythology and fantasy literature.”