Page 38 of The Cornish Princess
He was her betrothed. He was the most beautiful man she had ever met… and despite that, she dared to wonder if Málik’s lips would be so cold.
ChapterThirteen
Much to Gwendolyn’s surprise, neither her mother nor Demelza came to inquire about the mishap in the Dragon’s Lair, and as best as Gwendolyn could determine, Prince Loc must have given her a reprieve.Did he feel contrite for his part? Was he as embarrassed as she was?
Whatever the case, she decided that when she next saw him, she would apologize profusely and accept all blame. Too much depended on this union to allow her emotions to rule her, and so, it seemed, she owed apologies to many.
All things in due time.
However, she determined to begin with Ely. And because there was still ample time before the Promise Ceremony, she sought an audience with her mother and father.
Discovering both in convivial moods, she broached the request with abandon, only in a roundabout way. “I do not wish to employ a Shadow,” she said.
Seated upon his throne, with a dingy shaft of dust-mote-filled light spilling over his head, her father scowled. “You have no choice, Gwendolyn.”
“Please, Father! I despise him. If you cannot condone Bryn’s behavior, you mustn’t condone his.”
Her mother’s lovely brows collided. “Málik’s?” She sounded surprised.
“Indeed,” said Gwendolyn.
Her mother’s tone was gentler than Gwendolyn ever remembered. “Has he given you some insult?”Nay.He had not. So Gwendolyn measured her answer carefully, knowing that every word mattered. If she accused him unfairly, it could cost him his life.
“Nay,” she said, honestly. “I merely dislike him. Nor do I trust him.”
Her father sat forward in his chair, studying Gwendolyn’s face as though it were his war table. “Odd, you never complained about your Shadow till we took your poppet away.”
“Bryn is not my poppet. He’s my friend.”
Her father lifted one grey, frizzled brow. “With a twist of the hand, he dances as you please. I’d call that a poppet, Gwendolyn. Regardless, the answer is nay. As the future sovereign of Pretania, you must keep an able Shadow.”
“Why? The Shadow you’ve given me is incapable of doing what he’s told. Thanks to Bryn, I can defend myself. Instead, I’d prefer a lady’s maid.”
“You are my heir,” he said, as though this explained everything.
“And you are a woman,” added her mother. “I would not have it said I allowed my daughter’s integrity to be compromised.”
Gwendolyn flinched, wondering if someone had told her about the day’s outing after all. Her cheeks burned hotter yet, and not entirely with anger. After all, she had no response to that, because what could she say? Remind her mother that a male Shadow—whoever he might be—could as easily taint her honor, even unintentionally?
Yesterday’s ordeal at Porth Pool was proof of that.
“At least give me Ely,” she entreated, which was her intent all along. Despite that everything she’d said about Málik was true, she had known her father would not give any measure where he was concerned. She was stuck with him… for now.
“Alas, Gwendolyn, we’ve discussed this,” her mother protested. But before she could speak again, Gwendolyn rushed to say, “She could not serve me before because of Bryn. Please, Mother! I wouldst have at least one of my most trusted companions with me in a strange city.”
“Oh, Gwendolyn,” her mother said, but this time Gwendolyn sensed she might be wavering. “Elowyn is my most promising pupil.”
As she rarely did, Gwendolyn met Queen Eseld’s gaze directly. “I know, Mother. However, Ely doesn’t wish to be your pupil.”
Her mother’s face twisted over the affront. “Why not?”
“Because she longs for a husband and children. She’s not made for thedawnsio.”
Silence met her declaration, and even as Gwendolyn waited for the verdict, the grey light outside brightened. Although it was impossible to glean what Queen Eseld was thinking, Gwendolyn sensed her capitulation even before she voiced it. No matter what Gwendolyn felt about Queen Eseld as a parent, she knew her mother was neither cruel nor unyielding when a valid argument was presented. At last, she sighed. “And… you propose to find her a suitable husband?”
“I would.”
She tilted her head. “And… if we agree to this, you will content yourself with Málik? Your father is convinced he will be your salvation, and I will not have you disappoint him.”
