Page 54 of The Queens and the Kings
The Ladylord granted a dazzling smile. “Britt of Kapurnick, what a pleasure.”
Britt blinked, then dropped to one knee. She murmured, “Ladylord,” with her eyes fixed on the leader, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
Henrik didn’t bother with blatant convention. The Ladylord ruled the mainland, not the seas, so he had no politicalcompunction for obeisance. Britt, as an agent of Kapurnick, had reason to appeal to the Ladylord’s powerful side.
Not him.
No, thanks.
A woman with curious brown eyes, short-cropped hair, and a placid expression greeted Britt. Her thin arms gave way to an equally wiry body. She advanced a few steps, loose linen pants swirling around strong strides.
“Dear girl,” she murmured with deep affection. “Welcome back to the mainland. It has been too long since your previous visit.” Her gaze elevated to Henrik. A hint of a smile lingered in her twitching lips. “Henrik, the soldat. Your reputation precedes you. I thank you for coming, also.”
He nodded.
Dear girl,she’d said. That must account for the dazed expression on Britt’s face. She appeared to surface from her shock, blinking fast.
“But . . .”
“The time for the story of my ascension to Ladylord is later,” she said with a bright, though pained, smile. “It is in the history books, Britt. You can find it there. I have set aside the next hour for you and many, many questions.”
Britt’s ruffled brow cleared. “Thank you, Al— Ladylord,” she said in a clear voice. “The Isles are grateful to borrow some of your time.”
“Come into my real office, please. Trusted friends receive the special treatment.”
Trusted friends.
The Ladylord led them through the hidden door. Henrik stepped over a door jamb along the bottom, as high as his shins. The new office appeared far more lived-in, with normal dishabille. It reminded him of Captain Arvid’s desk on Stenberg, before all the . . . upheaval.
Many books, papers, and fountain pens on the desk created a busy ambiance. Nodding flowers and hints of greenery lingered outside three round windows, set at the exact same height and distance along the wall. Braided rugs softened the floor of shiny and sleek polished stone.
No sailors, no guards. No sign of physical protection for the most powerful ruler in the known world, though Britt hinted at arcane. Odd.
The Ladylord, with her billowing amethyst pants, stepped behind her desk barefoot. She had sparkling eyes, a moderately youthful face, and solid confidence. “Take a chair, please.” Despite the polite words, a hint of command lingered. “Carina will return in a moment with food and drinks. Was your voyage eventful?”
“Very,” Britt said as she lowered into a chair. Her fingers braided together on her lap, tap, tap, tapping a rhythm. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip, then stopped.
The Ladylord lowered into a chair cobbled together from driftwood. Stained, polished, and sculpted into an intricate filigree on the edges, it matched the desk behind which it perched. Her voice elevated.
“Oh?”
“There is much to update you on, Ladylord. I won’t ask how you came into power, but, if I may ask . . . ?”
Her trailing question left a hint of mystery.
The Ladylord smiled.
“You may ask.”
A palm upturned, Britt inquired, “When?”
The Ladylord flickered a curious gaze over to Henrik, her lips pulling upward in a half smile. “Henrik, what do you know of our mainland ways?”
“Nothing, Ladylord.”
“Well, now. That can’t be entirely true. Soldats are, by reputation, some of the most educated members of Stenberg society, are you not?”
He kept his face impassive.
