Page 43 of Dragons' Bride
“So you’ve been saying.”
A corner of Tavias’s mouth lifts, making a rare dimple touch his face. “And you’ve not been listening.”
“Neither was Hauck. Or Quinton. I think you and Cyril were the only ones listening, actually.”
Tavias chuckles softly and kisses the top of my head, just as someone bangs on the door again.
“Time to go,” he says.
“Wait.” I grab his arm, his bicep rock hard beneath his formal tunic. “Can I ask you something before we go in?”
“Of course.”
“Has a meeting between the whole pack and your father ever gone well? Or at least as you’ve intended? You know, in the past few hundred years?”
Tavias lips press together. “There is a first time for everything.”
22. TAVIAS
Marideth, the chamberlain who’d been running the palace since before any of the princes were born, met Tavias and the others in the grand foyer.
“My princes!” She clapped her hands together, the neat graying bun on top of her head bobbing about as her round face lit up with a warm smile. “Massa’eve has not been the same without you.”
“You’ve been out and about much, have you?” Tavias asked, raising a brow. The chamberlain knew and loved every inch of the palace – but she also seldom left it. Not even to go to festivals. The familiar grounds were a comfort to her and in return, she made the grand structure into a home for the royals.
“Never you mind that, Prince Tavias,” Marideth said primly. “The palace speaks to me as always.”
He snorted. “Your staff speaks to you, Marideth.”
“We expected you over a week earlier, my prince,” she continued as if Tavias had not spoken. The small round female was a force as strong as any of the ocean waves that Cyril tamed. “With the Equinox pledge ball tomorrow night, I feared you might not make it. It will be a masquerade as always. I do hope the masks I’ve prepared are to your liking. And your fit. Have you lost weight in the human lands, Prince Tavias? Was there little food to be had?”
“Tavias – would you stop gabbing and let the rest of us through?” Pushing Tavias out of the way, Hauck enveloped the chamberlain in a warm hug, gently lifting her off the floor. “Hello, Marideth.”
“Put me down this instance, Prince Hauck,” she swatted at him. “This is undignified.”
Hauck chuckled, but obeyed, letting Cyril get by to greet Marideth with a kiss on both cheeks.
Quinton being Quinton, remained in the back. And Marideth being herself did not let that stop her from marching right up to him and patting his face with her weathered palm. “Welcome home, Prince Quinton.”
He gave her a bow. “Marideth.”
Blading his body to nudge Kit toward the chamberlain, Tavias held out his hand in a sweeping introduction. “Marideth, allow me to present Lady Kitterny to you. Our bride apparent.”
Kit curtsied. Passably.
Marideth returned the gesture with a good deal more experience and grace. Her lips pressed together into a thin tight smile. “Welcome to Massa’eve, my lady,” she said with none of her usual warmth.
It wasn’t the greeting Tavias expected, but Marideth always had her own mind – and was protective of the four princes to a fault.
“Is Ettienne waiting for us in his study?” Tavias knew he would be. Ettienne always wished for his sons to come to him, not the other way around. He also wanted such things done without delay. Even the short greetings exchanged with Marideth were likely stretching the limits of Ettienne’s patience.
“No, my prince,” said Marideth. “But he asked that you join him at dinner in an hour in the family dining room.”
Well that was different. Tavias glanced at Cyril, who shook his head. He didn’t understand it either.
“Marideth,” Tavias said, “why –”
“Lady Kitterny, allow me to show you to your room to freshen up before dinner,” Marideth said smoothly. She had perfected the art of not hearing anything she didn’t wish to. “And perhaps I might have the hairdresser stop by to help take those pretty combs from your hair? We wouldn’t want such precious things misplaced.”
