black, making his skin appear translucent and wan by comparison. The “Crippled Prince,” she’d heard them call the heir to Senet, although from where she stood, she could see no sign of deformity.
In contrast, his brother was a younger version of Prince Antonov. A tawny-headed, strapping youth with a ready smile and golden, laughing eyes, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Marqel watched him ride by wistfully.
“Is that Prince Kirshov?” she asked her companion, pointing to the young Prince. The movement must have caught his eye. The golden-haired prince turned and looked straight at Marqel. He winked at her with a grin before turning his attention back to the rest of the parade.
“Aye,” Lanatyne agreed. “I hear the Lion of Senet pledged his service to the queen as a sign of his goodwill toward Dhevyn.”
“So who’s the little girl?” Marqel asked.
They had ridden close enough for her to see the glint of a golden coronet hiding in the dark curls of the girl on the white pony.
“Princess Alenor, I think.”
“Isn’t she the heir to Dhevyn?”
“Queen Rainan sent her to be fostered in Senet.”
“Fostered!” a man in front of them scoffed, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Marqel turned her attention to the future Queen of Dhevyn and found herself unimpressed. She cast her gaze over the rest of the entourage and spied a small blonde wearing an elaborately embroidered red robe astride a docile looking gray mare. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but there was something about her that caught Marqel’s eye. Beside her was another tall redheaded woman similarly robed in red. Their sleeveless red tunics marked them as Shadowdancers. Behind them rode a younger Shadowdancer branded with the rope tattoo on her left arm, as Marqel was. Feeling an inexplicable bond with the women, she found herself staring at them. “Who are they?”
“That’s the High Priestess Belagren riding the gray,” the man in front explained, obviously rather proud of his knowledge of who was who in the Senetian court. “I think the one next to her is Ella Geon. Don’t know about the other one.”
“I never thought I’d lay eyes on the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers,” Marqel said, with a hint of awe.
“The Lion of Senet never travels anywhere without his spiritual adviser,” the man remarked.
“Spiritual adviser?” Lanatyne chuckled knowingly. “I would have thought a better title would be—”
“Lana!” Marqel hissed warningly. She had heard Lanatyne’s opinion of the Shadowdancers before. It was widely rumored that Belagren was Antonov Latanya’s mistress. Marqel wasn’t sure she believed the things Lana said about them, but even if she did, here was not the place to repeat them.
Prince Antonov and his entourage reached the entrance to the Keep as the nobles walked out to greet them. The Duke of Elcast was a solid, stocky man with gray hair and a barrel chest. The duchess was much younger than her husband, a tall, slender woman with dark hair and a distant air about her. She trailed a pace or two behind the duke and the governor. Tovin Rill, the Senetian Governor, was a big man, tall and well built, dressed in an elaborately embroidered blue silk coat that made everyone around him seem dull by comparison. Behind the adults were the sons of the duke and the governor. The older Provin boy was a stocky lad who looked just like his father. The younger one was taller, more like his mother.
The rest of the welcoming party waited as the Lion of Senet greeted the Duke of Elcast like an old friend. Wallin seemed pleased to see the prince. The duchess was much more reserved, almost to the point of being rude, but Antonov did not seem to notice. In fact, the prince’s manner left Marqel a little puzzled. From what she had heard, there was little love lost between Elcast and Senet, yet the Duke of Elcast obviously counted the Lion of Senet as a friend. Two of the
In contrast, his brother was a younger version of Prince Antonov. A tawny-headed, strapping youth with a ready smile and golden, laughing eyes, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Marqel watched him ride by wistfully.
“Is that Prince Kirshov?” she asked her companion, pointing to the young Prince. The movement must have caught his eye. The golden-haired prince turned and looked straight at Marqel. He winked at her with a grin before turning his attention back to the rest of the parade.
“Aye,” Lanatyne agreed. “I hear the Lion of Senet pledged his service to the queen as a sign of his goodwill toward Dhevyn.”
“So who’s the little girl?” Marqel asked.
They had ridden close enough for her to see the glint of a golden coronet hiding in the dark curls of the girl on the white pony.
“Princess Alenor, I think.”
“Isn’t she the heir to Dhevyn?”
“Queen Rainan sent her to be fostered in Senet.”
“Fostered!” a man in front of them scoffed, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Marqel turned her attention to the future Queen of Dhevyn and found herself unimpressed. She cast her gaze over the rest of the entourage and spied a small blonde wearing an elaborately embroidered red robe astride a docile looking gray mare. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but there was something about her that caught Marqel’s eye. Beside her was another tall redheaded woman similarly robed in red. Their sleeveless red tunics marked them as Shadowdancers. Behind them rode a younger Shadowdancer branded with the rope tattoo on her left arm, as Marqel was. Feeling an inexplicable bond with the women, she found herself staring at them. “Who are they?”
“That’s the High Priestess Belagren riding the gray,” the man in front explained, obviously rather proud of his knowledge of who was who in the Senetian court. “I think the one next to her is Ella Geon. Don’t know about the other one.”
“I never thought I’d lay eyes on the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers,” Marqel said, with a hint of awe.
“The Lion of Senet never travels anywhere without his spiritual adviser,” the man remarked.
“Spiritual adviser?” Lanatyne chuckled knowingly. “I would have thought a better title would be—”
“Lana!” Marqel hissed warningly. She had heard Lanatyne’s opinion of the Shadowdancers before. It was widely rumored that Belagren was Antonov Latanya’s mistress. Marqel wasn’t sure she believed the things Lana said about them, but even if she did, here was not the place to repeat them.
Prince Antonov and his entourage reached the entrance to the Keep as the nobles walked out to greet them. The Duke of Elcast was a solid, stocky man with gray hair and a barrel chest. The duchess was much younger than her husband, a tall, slender woman with dark hair and a distant air about her. She trailed a pace or two behind the duke and the governor. Tovin Rill, the Senetian Governor, was a big man, tall and well built, dressed in an elaborately embroidered blue silk coat that made everyone around him seem dull by comparison. Behind the adults were the sons of the duke and the governor. The older Provin boy was a stocky lad who looked just like his father. The younger one was taller, more like his mother.
The rest of the welcoming party waited as the Lion of Senet greeted the Duke of Elcast like an old friend. Wallin seemed pleased to see the prince. The duchess was much more reserved, almost to the point of being rude, but Antonov did not seem to notice. In fact, the prince’s manner left Marqel a little puzzled. From what she had heard, there was little love lost between Elcast and Senet, yet the Duke of Elcast obviously counted the Lion of Senet as a friend. Two of the
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