Page 48 of The Queens and the Kings
Klipporno could be a bit . . . much.
“Thank you.”
He grunted.
Britt slipped her fingers over his and threaded them together, amused and concerned by his startled expression. When he didn’t resist, she breathed into the win. The air had been understandably tense on the ship since Agnes died. Uncomfortably heavy. The fresh air and new crowd cleared it, making it easier to smile.
Keeping hold of him, Britt tugged them up a pitched road that wound toward the cliff tops. The tour of Klipporno would provide Henrik a chance to get his bearings, at the very least, though he asked no questions. With the ocean sprawling to their west, it wasn’t hard to orient. Traffic clotted the thin footpaths cutting through a switchback, circumventing the longer roads. She avoided those, keeping them in wide spaces with less jostling.
Henrik leaned into the wind that buffeted them at the top of the cliffs. The sea rippled like a quilt with lines cut through, distant speckled white waves, and an evanescent horizon. Pedr’s ship, immediately distinguishable by the lack of boats anywhere near it and the pink mainsails, caught Britt’s eye.
A wyvern cut overhead in the distance, fishing in the northern waters farther from the port. The sight of it sent a shudder through her. A bold reminder as to why she was here.
For Kapurnick.
“What do you think of Klipporno so far?” she asked.
“Busy.”
“That’s it?”
“So far,” he said evenly. “How often have you come here?”
“After my parents died? I came every year with General Helsing. Sometimes twice, depending on what trade and negotiations Kapurnick required. She has navigated many issues with the mainland since she took custody of me.”
“That makes you a ready agent for Kapurnick.”
Uncomfortable with the thought, she simply said, “Maybe. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
With a quirk of her head, she asked, “Soldats don’t experience hunger, eh?”
He sent her a sidelong glance.
She laughed. “The Ladylord might feed us. Depending on whether she offers, it would have been an insult not to eat, which is why Pedr didn’t offer breakfast. The food here is good. Come. The Ladylord lives only a few more minutes away, along the top cliff edge on the outer ring of Klipporno. From there, we can see everything.”
A giant barnacle sat on Britt’s ribs as they closed in on the Ladylord’s residence. It pressed, pressed, pressed, squelchingher breath and courage. She pasted on her smile as servants passed, watching closely for her friends, Carina and Alma. No sign of them appeared.
She didn’t want them to be here to witness her embarrassment as an ill-prepared agent of Kapurnick, out of her depth.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears, her throat tightened. For the sake of Kapurnick and her draguls, she had no choice. Henrik hovered close, releasing her hand to stand on her other side, toward the flow of people walking.
If her loose-hanging, long hair didn’t give her away as an islander—lubbers had a habit towards short-cropped tresses—then the pants under her skirt would. Didn’t matter. The Ladylord expected her, and it wouldn’t be wise to appear insecure with the new leader, even if the lubbers' open stares unnerved her.
The Ladylord’s residence was a simple affair. A handful of catacomb rooms set into cliffs towering over the spit of land separating the rock wall from the sea. In eras past, little land existed between the cliffs and the ocean. Time had widened the beach. Slowly. During storm surges and high tides, homes washed away occasionally. If the house pieces survived, the lubbers reset them and continued on with their lives.
The rock into which the city was set had a porous appearance from afar, but felt smooth. Round circles dominated the view as they closed in. Circular door, circular windows, circular everything. The only variation was a sparkling portrait of a flying wyvern set into an oval window pane. Riderless, of course. No one mounted a wyvern.
When she paused on the threshold, hesitating before stepping on a thin, woven mat, Henrik touched the back of her elbow. He met her gaze in the window reflection. With all thathappened to Agnes and Einar, she hadn’t considered the fact that Henrik could meet his mother soon.
Her lips pressed together as she considered how to prepare him, decided there was no way without being overheard, and tugged on a bell-pull next to the door. Might as well get it over with. Tinny, sweet bells jangled on the other side of the door.
“This is the Ladylord’s residence,” she said under her breath, and without allowing her smile to waver. “There are a lot of ears, and a lot of invisible, protective arcane. The previous Lordlady was friends with the Arcanist of Land, or so Pedr said.”
He released her arm.
She took it as a sign of understanding.
