The Jewel of Kamara (The Delthenon Chronicles) by Bridie Blake Page A

she usually had on when they talked but a wide, bright one. She
couldn’t help it.
    “They
think I’m boring.”
    She
let out a short, sharp laugh. “Boring?”
    “They
do not care much for politics or our foreign neighbors. They turn a deaf ear
when I try to talk of such things.”
    “That
does sound like Chae.”
    “Yes,
but he mentioned that you might be interested. Or at least will feign
interest.”
    “Did
he now?” She shook her head at her brother’s scheming. “Just don’t expect me to
agree with you just because of your title.”
    “When
have you ever agreed with me?”
    She
chewed her bottom lip as she tried to think of an answer.
    “See?
You’ve never once agreed with me.”
    She
smiled at him. “Now that’s not true. I believe you once suggested it would
rain, and I agreed with you.”
    “That
doesn’t count.”
    “You
can’t put restrictions on my answers now.”
    “Fair
enough,” he laughed and then gave a nervous cough. “Would you care to join me
for lunch?”
    Tempani
froze. Lunch? It was one thing to have him drop in for a short conversation but
sit down over a meal and talk was another. Their friendship was new. She didn’t
want to rush it. “I’m expecting Dahlia here at any moment. We were going to
spend the afternoon together.”
    “Oh,
all right.”
    “Another
time?” She asked quickly when she saw the disappointment on his face. “I have
no plans tomorrow.”
    He
nodded eagerly. “Tomorrow it is. I’ll see myself out.”
    She
was nervous as she waited for him the following day, but her nerves disappeared
the moment she was on Mincha. As they rode, he entertained her with stories of
the previous week’s sitting of the Royal Parliament.
    “Poor
Darby almost had a fit when father mentioned his plans to visit the convent in
the summer,” he explained. “Darby believes it would create nothing but further
dissent in the lower classes.”
    “He’s
right. The convent is the one place in this kingdom where people aren’t judged
by their station.” Just their race, she thought to herself. “If the king
visits, it will give the impression that he is seeking to control them. The
ramifications would be huge.”
    “I
agree. We should be working harder to appease them.”
    She
eyed him warily.
    His
smile widened. “I’m not entirely predictable, am I?”
    “Not
entirely,” she said. “Race you to the river?”
    “Only
if we make it interesting,” he said. “If I win, you accompany me to dinner this
evening.”
    “And
if I win?”
    “I
accompany you to dinner.”
    She
laughed. “Either way you win.”
    “So
it would seem.”
    She
kicked Mincha into a gallop and the two took off, her black hair flying behind
her as her wrap fell in her wake. She heard him swear under his breath and then
take off after her. But his mare was no match for Mincha, and Tempani whooped
when she pulled up at the river and waited for him.
    “If
you were that keen for me to accompany you to dinner all you had to do was
ask.” His breathing was haggard as he climbed from his saddle. He turned to
assist her but she’d already dismounted and was busy cooing to Mincha. She
pulled an apple from her saddlebag and offered it to her mare.
    “I
figured I should at least win something in this game.”
    She
led Mincha over to the river and stroked her back while she took a long drink.
She had forgotten how much she loved to gallop. These days the only riding she
did was short trips into Fenella or to the palace, and they never even got
close to a trot.
    It
was a feeling of freedom. A feeling that she was untouchable. The wind rushing
past her skin as her body molded against Mincha’s, the two of them becoming
one. Her mother used to tell her that her people shared a special bond with
animals, but Tempani had thought that was nothing more than a story to
entertain a child. The older she got, the more she believed it.
    She
removed her shoes and gathered up the hem of her dress in her hand