"Mindy L. Klasky - Glasswright Journeyman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Klasky Mindy L)

"I'm here, Orsi, just waiting for you to announce my presence." Rani immediately regretted
her flippant tone as the boy looked confused. After all, the page was one of Hal's cousins, the
king's heir, in fact. It would not be proper to tease the child. Rani glanced at Mair for
reassurance. "Shall we?"

"Go ahead," Mair said, her smile for Farsobalinti alone. "The king asked for you, not for a
dark-haired Touched girl." Rani almost snorted; the young knight did not even wait for the
inner door to close before he sidled closer to Mair. Rani's belly flipped as she watched Mair
raise a hand to straighten the nobleman's band of mourning, but she forced herself to set
aside the picture of Mair's fingers on the man's firm arm, of Farso's widening smile. Rani did
not have time to speculate on what the couple did in the shadows.

Instead, she focused on the room in front of her. OrsiтАФ OrsomalanuтАФRani reminded herself,
held the door open. The boy cleared his throat before addressing his liege lord. "Your
Majesty." Hal looked up expectantly, and the page bowed to his king and the visiting
dignitaries. "Holy Father, Your Grace. The Lady Rani arrives."

Hal crossed the few steps toward Rani, his dark eyes immediately registering the single ruby
around her neck. A flush rose in her cheeks as she remembered him giving her the stone,
presenting it to her at the end of the summer in celebration of her eighteenth birthday. He
had insisted that she wear it, and she had felt his fingers against her flesh, warm and dry. He
had fumbled at the closure, and the ruby had started to slip down the front of her dress. She
had caught it before it slid away, and they both had laughed easily, comfortably.

Now Hal looked as if he would never laugh again. In the five years since he had ascended to
the Morenian throne, Hal had come into his man's height. He was a full head taller than Rani,
and over the past winter, he had increased the breadth of his shoulders, spending day after
day practicing his fighting forms with his broadsword and shield.

Half a decade of ruling had aged the king in other ways, as well. Rani could see dark
smudges beneath his brown eyes, smears of sleeplessness that indicated his suffering over the
latest disaster to strike his city. His cheeks were sunken, the bones standing out beneath his
unruly chestnut hair. Hal continued to wear the black mourning that he had donned the day
after the fire, and Rani wondered if Farso had fought Hal to place the be-jeweled crown across
his brow. Even in the best of times, Hal was inclined to wear only a thin golden circlet, a brief
reminder of the status that he insisted was proved in words and actions more than in jewels.

Nevertheless, the crown that Hal wore that night was fitting. It was woven of interlocking Js,
the letter that stood for Jair, the founder of the royal family and the pilgrim who had first
cemented the faith of the Thousand Gods in Morenia. It matched the heavy chain of office
that hung about Hal's neck, the sole jewelry resting on his mourning velvet. Both crown and
chain contained clusters of pearls and rubies in the loops formed by each J. Hal had worn
them when he was invested with his religious title, an office that ran parallel to his worldly
crown. Hal was the Defender of the Faith; he had received that charge at the hands of the
Holy Father within weeks of ascending to the throne of Morenia.

Most important, the crown and chain reminded all present that Morenia was a long-lived
kingdom, a land that had seen its share of disasters, but had survived allтАФwith the house of
Jair intact. Hal might be reduced to asking the church for money, but his kingdom would
survive. Morenia would prevail.