Page 95 of The Warlord's Princess
The room goes silent again.
“Lies!” Grixis finally roars, refinding his fury.
“Ask Caen, who gave me the rough side of his tongue for doing so.”
Grixis lunges toward me again, but Ulof holds him back, whispering things into his ear.
“Let me go!” Grixis growls, reaching for me.
“Clear your head,” Ulof urges.
“I swear to Greater Tempest and every outlying territory, you will be exiled until there is no more?—”
“Stop yelling!” Meg shouts. Out of nowhere, she places her small body between Grixis and me.
Grixis quiets.
Meg looks from Grixis to me, sneering. “Look at you, acting like children.”
Eddard leaps to his feet, gesturing at me. “He threatens?—”
“He’s threatened nothing! In fact, if you had listened to him, you would have heard that he’s concerned.” Her throat jumps when she swallows. “And maybe we should be too.”
The room quiets save for the beating of our rushing hearts.
Meg plants her hands on her hips and looks at each of us. “Sit down and behave!”
We obey, knowing one carelessly said word will lead to war.
The women look terrified, particularly Elena, whose hands are on her round belly.
“Eh-hem.” Nori clears her throat. “I would like to speak.”
Elena nods slowly. “Of all the people, it should be you.”
She gets up and paces in the center of the room for a solid minute before turning to Asha.
“I’m afraid I will have to say some things you may not like.”
“I already know that I’m weak,” Asha whisper-snaps.
“No, you are not. What I must speak of is a truth my family came upon that cost us dearly. It cost you dearly, too.”
Asha lifts her head, brow pinched. “What do you mean?”
Nori pivots and begins pacing again. “Back in Penticar, my family is known for two things: being socially awkward and ridiculously intelligent.”
Meg nods. “That’s the right of it.”
“Many second, third, and fourth sons serve other nobles, for a fee, and the daughters in my line are often highly sought after, as they provide their husbands with wise counsel.”
“Get on with it,” Meg says tersely.
“My grandfather served the king himself, giving him sound and solid advice over the years?—”
“Must we?” Asha interrupts.
“I’m sorry, Asha. I know we’re not supposed to apologize because that makes us weak, but in this case, I don’t care. I truly am sorry.”
