Page 24 of The Cornish Princess
Nothing he did was ever… extraneous.
In fact, where Málik was concerned, there was economy in his every movement, and more to the point, he never went out of his way for any reason at all that didn’t somehow serve him, which only made his betrayal of Bryn this afternoon even more unpalatable.
What could have been his reason?
He was watching the dancers, but there was nothing in his expression that gave Gwendolyn any sign he was enjoying the show.
Rather, she had the sense that he was otherwise attuned to every movement in the hall—every gesture everyone made, and perhaps all that was said.
The stories she’d heard about thefaewere innumerable. They could grow silver limbs. They could read thoughts. They could shift shapes.
But how curious the thought—how tedious it would be to hear everyone’s conversations all at once. If that were one of Gwendolyn’sfaegifts, she would certainly go mad.
Once again, averting her gaze from the thorn her father had burrowed in her side, Gwendolyn peered up at the Prince as he, too, surveyed the hall. She hadn’t even realized he was talking, and he suddenly knit his brows as he noted the direction of her gaze.
Gwendolyn pretended not to notice—it was that or apologize, and somehow that felt wrong, as though she were confessing to something despicable.
Instead, she dared to ask about the one thing she most wished to know. “Was it fascinating?”
“Quite,” he said, and another slow grin unfurled. “Though not in the way you might think. Tell me, Princess… do such things normally entertain you?”
“Immensely,” Gwendolyn confessed. “Someday, I hope to visit Cnoc Fírinne for myself, and mayhap when ’tis completed, I should like to see the new Temple in Eastwalas as well.”
His brows twitched. “The Æmete Temple?”
Gwendolyn blinked, careful not to frown. “Well, yes, though… that is not whatwecall it. Nor do I believetheyrefer to it in such manner themselves.”
Theybeing the Dobunni—a consortium of tribes occupying much of the borderlands. Eastwalas was essentially Dumnonii territory, but it also bordered upon Silures, and Ordovices in Loegria, as well as the Catuvellauni to the east, and Atrebates to the south.
“Æmete is whattheycallus,” she explained, “Though I do not believe ’tis meant to be kind.”
“What does it mean?”
“Æmete?” she asked. “Well—” She lifted her brows. “It means… ant.”
He made a scurrying motion with two fingers. “You mean those crawly creatures?”
Gwendolyn nodded.
“Ah, yes, I see,” he said. “Alas, if anyone should be called such a thing, it should be them. Shouldn’t it?”
Gwendolyn blinked. “Because they are a multitude?”
“Nay, Princess.”
The way he said her name—or rather, not precisely her name, only her title—gave Gwendolyn gooseflesh.
“Because they are inconsequential.”
The woven spell was suddenly lost.
“They are not even canny enough to join forces as we have.”
“Oh,” said Gwendolyn.
“Really, had they done so, perhaps Cornwall would not have stood so long.”
The furrow in Gwendolyn’s brow deepened. So far as she was concerned, no one was inconsequential, not even Málik. But Cornwall hadnotendured so long because Pretania’s other tribes were ignorant or insignificant. Although she appreciated the fact that he was treating her as an equal, neither dismissing her opinions nor behaving as though she hadn’t the mental acuity to discuss political matters, Cornwall had remained strong because theywerestrong.
