Page 68 of Heart of Winter
“I like the blue,” Rune offered. He was lounged negligently in a chair in the royal family solar, booted feet propped up on the edge of a table, head tilted in consideration so that his wild, unbraided hair caught the sunlight and flared all in a rich brown and red spill across his shoulders.
Tessa stood on a low stool in the center of the rug while Astrid measured the length of her hem for the tenth time and Revna held up swatches of crimson and midnight velvet to her face for comparison. The Yuletide Feast was in two days, and Revna had insisted she needed a special gown for the occasion. Tessa had protested, not wanting to put anyone to any inconvenience, but as had become usual, Revna had swept her along with gentle insistence. Tessa hoped that she had a place at all Aeretollean negotiation tables, because there was no refusing her.
She rolled her eyes, now. “My son the fashion expert.” Over her shoulder to Rune: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying? But, yes, the blue, I think.”
Rune grinned, and winked at Tessa.
Thatwas her problem. Leif was wonderful, but Rune left her biting back giggles at every turn.
Revna turned and flapped a hand at him. “Out with you. Go learn something.”
He heaved a theatrical sigh and got to his feet. Headed for the door – but leaned in close, when his mother’s back was turned, to whisper to Tessa: “Blink twice if you need rescuing.”
She gave a very unladylike snort of laugher, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. Rune grinned – the quicksilver, beautiful, grin that reached all the way up to his eyes and pressed lines at the corners that would deepen as he aged; his was a face printed with joy, and made all the lovelier for it.
“Rune,” Revna said, in warning.
“I’m going.” He left with one more wink that left her stomach somersaulting.
“That child,” Revna said, shaking her head, when he was gone. She selected a bolt of velvet and set it aside with the silver threat and tiny seed pearls and sapphires. “Ah, here it is.” She lifted a bundle and turned to Tessa with it held out in offering.
It was fur, she saw, a heavy, black-flecked gray; she reached for it automatically, and felt its cool, slick hair slide through her fingers. She knew where it had come from before Revna said, “The wolves that Leif felled.” She glanced up, gaze gone serious. “He wanted you to have one.”
“Oh,” Tessa breathed.
“You can wear it as a stole,” Revna said, unfurling the length of fur and wrapping it around her own shoulders and throat in demonstration. “That’s how we do it here at festivals.” She struck a regal pose, and then transferred the fur to Tessa’s shoulders. “Or as a cape. A topper for your cloak, on really cold days.” She smoothed her hands over its plush surface, across Tessa’s shoulders until she gripped them lightly through it. Her gaze was searching.
Revnameantraven, and Tessa found that wholly appropriate, the way the woman could stare at you and know things.
She swallowed and said, “It’s beautiful.” Stroked the ends of it. “I’ll have to thank him when I see him next.”
Revna smiled, wistfully, and cocked her head. It was a look that reminded Tessa much of her own mother, in one of Katherine’s rare soft moments. Revna said, “You know, my husband grew up here in the palace. Torstan was Lord Trostann’s second son, my father’s ward, and here to be made a knight. He, and Bjorn, and my brother were fast friends.” She smiled, gaze turned inward, remembering. “My mother used to always talk about finding me a ‘smart match.’ Said it was my duty to marry a powerful lord who could serve as an ally to my brother, and a defender of the realm. It was all very dramatic.
“I was, of course, completely against the idea. Tor was a lord’s son, and he was Erik’s best friend – but I never saw him as an important lord’s son. It wasn’t a duty, marrying him. In fact, we surprised everyone when we announced we wanted to be wed.
“I married for love.” Grief touched her face, old but no less fierce. And then her expression turned probing. She slid her hands down Tessa’s arms until she could take both her hands into her own. Squeezed. “My hope is that you will be able to do the same.”
Tessa blinked in surprise. “My lady?”
Revna smiled, and squeezed her hands again. “I know that you are a sweet and dutiful girl, but I hope that you’ll be able to follow your heart. To be bold and honest when it comes to what you want for yourself. I love both my sons very much.”
“My lady, what are–”
Revna let go and stood back, winking just as Rune had. “I think you know what I mean.”
~*~
For all that he loved research, Oliver thought he might scream if he had to look at one more Drakewell tax document.
“But…why are thereso manyparties?” Leif asked, braids swinging side-to-side as he shook his head over the parchment Birger had just passed him.
Oliver tipped his head against the back of his chair and studied the ceiling, vision faintly blurred from squinting so long at cramped handwriting. “Because Drakewellians are extremely shallow.”
Erik snorted from behind his desk. “It’s because Drakewell lies in a warm valley, with good roads, and plenty to eat, and so rarely goes to war that its citizenry – minor lords especially – don’t look to their duke as a source of protection, but of entertainment.”
Oliver pointed toward him without looking. “That, too. But I’m feeling rather uncharitable after poring over three years of expenditure figures.”
There was a rustling of pages. “Gods.” Leif had found the sketches, then. The fashion plates from last year’s galas. “I wouldn’t have to dress like this, would I?”
