such wisdom.
“Peasant, noble, I am neither. I feel their anxiety to please. That is all.”
Annatrice looked up to Charleroux who stood lingering on her every word.
“I am sorry.”
Charleroux looked baffled.
“For what?”
“For the way I have embarrassed you, I have regretted the words I used at the feast but they were in some ways, necessary. I needed to earn your favour and demonstrate my usefulness.”
Charleroux was somewhat taken back by the welcomed but belated apology.
“I accept your most sincere words; my heart has carried a heavy burden since that moment. You are however, a rare and formidable ally to those who pursue power in this land or any other. If that display was even the limit of your abilities, people will seek you out.”
Annatrice sat back and closed her eyes. Charleroux had brought up a relevant point. Annatrice could feel her powers growing stronger by the day, even with the mild discomfort from the horses back on the long journey, her senses were coming alive, and the voices in her head floating in and out of her thoughts like a wisp of ether. When would these feelings stop and how would she ever be able to trust herself not to invade the privacy of the people that she met, her irrational yet increasingly paranoid fear of betrayal beginning to grow by the day?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Annatrice awoke the next morning in Charleroux's long, soft bed. He had curiously not attempted to consummate his marriage as he had stated the day before, but had slept soundly beside her, his eager hands resisting the urge to touch. Annatrice rolled over and saw her husband, quite awake and looking at her with his dark brown eyes.
“Did I snore?” Annatrice inquired, her juvenile sense of humour finding its way to the surface.
“Absolutely not. You took the form of a sleeping goddess and did not utter a sound.”
The flattery was unwarranted but received with a smile.
“After you retired, I sent a messenger to Deo Canthi requesting a conference. Things will proceed quickly now, he is impatient to move forward.”
Charleroux was straight to business, Annatrice sensed that he was making a conscious effort to be rather matter of fact about things and not let other issues cloud the reason why they had joined.
“So Deo Canthi is close by?” Annatrice asked.
“Close, yes. Forgive me for being vague, for me to disclose such things would be careless, although if you wanted to find out you need only administer another cut?”
Annatrice sat upright and looked down at the smooth flesh of her inner arm. A series of healing wounds were clearly visible as the sleeve of her nightwear had ridden up. Annatrice felt threatened by her husband's new knowledge, it was one aspect that she did not care to share with anyone.
“These wounds were from a fall, my pony took flight, and I fell upon a bush of thorns.”
Annatrice was a poor liar. Charleroux rolled back and looked up at the ceiling.
“You shall have no such dramas with Majestic; she is a fine mare with impeccable breeding.”
Annatrice agreed hoping her tall tale had ended the thread of the conversation.
“When I receive receipt of my request, we will have to ride out to a location of his choosing. I should like you to come for obvious reasons; I trust this to be agreeable?”
Annatrice nodded, it was agreeable. To finally meet the opposing King would be quite a moment. Her research had led her to believe that he was a just and wise ruler, not without a taint or two on his record but worthy of removing the tyrant of Araman.
When Annatrice rose, she realised that Charleroux's servants had been busy during the night. A wardrobe of fine clothes had been gathered. She had left Fontayne with almost as little as when she entered. It was obvious that her husband was making efforts to appease her and earn her favour. The pressure he exerted was tangible, she felt that despite his most courteous behaviour, the expected end product was obvious and
“Peasant, noble, I am neither. I feel their anxiety to please. That is all.”
Annatrice looked up to Charleroux who stood lingering on her every word.
“I am sorry.”
Charleroux looked baffled.
“For what?”
“For the way I have embarrassed you, I have regretted the words I used at the feast but they were in some ways, necessary. I needed to earn your favour and demonstrate my usefulness.”
Charleroux was somewhat taken back by the welcomed but belated apology.
“I accept your most sincere words; my heart has carried a heavy burden since that moment. You are however, a rare and formidable ally to those who pursue power in this land or any other. If that display was even the limit of your abilities, people will seek you out.”
Annatrice sat back and closed her eyes. Charleroux had brought up a relevant point. Annatrice could feel her powers growing stronger by the day, even with the mild discomfort from the horses back on the long journey, her senses were coming alive, and the voices in her head floating in and out of her thoughts like a wisp of ether. When would these feelings stop and how would she ever be able to trust herself not to invade the privacy of the people that she met, her irrational yet increasingly paranoid fear of betrayal beginning to grow by the day?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Annatrice awoke the next morning in Charleroux's long, soft bed. He had curiously not attempted to consummate his marriage as he had stated the day before, but had slept soundly beside her, his eager hands resisting the urge to touch. Annatrice rolled over and saw her husband, quite awake and looking at her with his dark brown eyes.
“Did I snore?” Annatrice inquired, her juvenile sense of humour finding its way to the surface.
“Absolutely not. You took the form of a sleeping goddess and did not utter a sound.”
The flattery was unwarranted but received with a smile.
“After you retired, I sent a messenger to Deo Canthi requesting a conference. Things will proceed quickly now, he is impatient to move forward.”
Charleroux was straight to business, Annatrice sensed that he was making a conscious effort to be rather matter of fact about things and not let other issues cloud the reason why they had joined.
“So Deo Canthi is close by?” Annatrice asked.
“Close, yes. Forgive me for being vague, for me to disclose such things would be careless, although if you wanted to find out you need only administer another cut?”
Annatrice sat upright and looked down at the smooth flesh of her inner arm. A series of healing wounds were clearly visible as the sleeve of her nightwear had ridden up. Annatrice felt threatened by her husband's new knowledge, it was one aspect that she did not care to share with anyone.
“These wounds were from a fall, my pony took flight, and I fell upon a bush of thorns.”
Annatrice was a poor liar. Charleroux rolled back and looked up at the ceiling.
“You shall have no such dramas with Majestic; she is a fine mare with impeccable breeding.”
Annatrice agreed hoping her tall tale had ended the thread of the conversation.
“When I receive receipt of my request, we will have to ride out to a location of his choosing. I should like you to come for obvious reasons; I trust this to be agreeable?”
Annatrice nodded, it was agreeable. To finally meet the opposing King would be quite a moment. Her research had led her to believe that he was a just and wise ruler, not without a taint or two on his record but worthy of removing the tyrant of Araman.
When Annatrice rose, she realised that Charleroux's servants had been busy during the night. A wardrobe of fine clothes had been gathered. She had left Fontayne with almost as little as when she entered. It was obvious that her husband was making efforts to appease her and earn her favour. The pressure he exerted was tangible, she felt that despite his most courteous behaviour, the expected end product was obvious and
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