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

before
wading into the water. She found that whenever she was near water she had an
urge to immerse herself in it. Even just thrusting her foot in sent a strong
jolt of energy through her, and she felt she could do anything. She could
gallop forever if she wanted to.
    “What
are you doing? The water must be freezing!”
    “I’m
Kalaowin,” she laughed. “We don’t feel the cold.”
    “Oh
really?” He reached out his hand and helped her out. “Then why are your teeth
chattering?”
    She
grinned at him and pulled a blanket from her saddlebag. “Well, I’m only part
Kalaowin.”
    That
drew a hearty laugh from him. “You definitely are unique. No other lady would
dare show her bare ankles to a man.”
    “That’s
me,” she said. “Paving the path for women everywhere. Soon all ladies will be
running around with their hair loose and their feet bare.” She pulled out her
spare wrap and folded it lengthwise, shaking out her hair so she could cover it
properly.
    “Don’t,”
he said and held her wrist in place.
    “But
it’s unseemly,” she said sarcastically. “I will be taken before the Master
Priest for daring to have my hair uncovered outside the confines of a palace
social engagement.”
    “Leave
it free,” he said. “And that’s a royal order.”
    “If
you insist.” Her heart raced at the look in his eyes. It was one she had often
seen in her father’s eyes when he’d looked at her mother.
    He
traced a finger along her cheekbone and over her lips. “You are beautiful,” he
whispered, inching his face closer to hers.
    His
breath tickled her skin. Her body was weakening against his touch, but her mind
was panicking, screaming at her to pull away. “You’re being pert,” she said
nervously.
    “I’ve
been accused of worse,” he murmured before drawing her lips into his own, and
her mind was silenced as she let herself be kissed.
    They
pulled apart when they heard approaching footsteps.
    Nic
grinned at her. “At least you didn’t slap me this time,” he whispered in her
ear as he rose to greet his bodyguard, Dagan.
    —
    The
day of Hamalia’s funeral was overcast. Storm clouds hovered in the distance and
threatened to roll in and wreak havoc on the day. Mourners had been pouring in
for days, and the castle at Amarill was full to bursting. Otto’s sister, Lady
Sofhia, and her husband Lord Burron had been the
first to arrive and had taken charge of the household and the arrangements for
the burial.
    Hamalia’s
body was to be burned, her ashes cast to the winds so her spirit would live on
in the earth it touched. It was a Kalaowin tradition and one sure to raise a
few eyebrows among the nobles in attendance. But Otto had been adamant.
    Tempani
had spent the morning in the watchtower, observing the mourners arriving at the
chapel. She sat there, hugging her knees to her chest and wrinkling the black
gown her aunt had forced her to wear.
    But
now she was seated in the cold, draughty chapel. The only light came from the
dozens of candles that had been lit in her honor. She gripped her brother’s
hand tightly and tried to force back more tears.
    She
watched as the royal contingent arrived. King Wimarc walked down the aisle,
dressed in his finest, and holding up Queen Tryphena. She had almost forgotten
that Hamalia had considered the queen a close friend. Trailing behind them was
Prince Nicolass, his proud face showing no emotion, and Prince Theodore, his
eyes glistening with tears.
    Chae
had to pull Tempani to her feet so she could curtsey, and she had to fight the
urge to disregard the tradition. It made her blood boil that the attention was
diverted from her mother, even if it was just for a split second.
    There
was a small yelp from somewhere behind them as the flames on the candles grew
dangerously large. Teddy caught Tempani’s eye, and he gave her a small, sad
smile. She felt her anger subside. The servants who had rushed forward to blow
out the candles took a step back as the flames shrunk