Page 18 of To Touch A Silent Fury
I heard feet shuffling, though which of them it was, I could not say.
Then the prince spoke again. “You are dismissed, Thread.”
“My prince.”
I pressed my back against the wall, then released a relieved breath as Groulin’s steps retreated down the corridor in the other direction rather than heading towards me. The other steps moved forwards, and then a door opened and closed. Total quiet fell in the corridor, except for my quick breaths.
I waited a full minute, counting each second. Even after they passed, I waited longer still in the silence, steadying my heart and reshuffling my beads. It should seem like a natural length of time before my arrival at his door.
When I stepped into the corridor, my heart stopped.
It wasn’t empty.
The Dragon Prince stood before me like a statue, his arms folded in front of his chest. His cold face was just as sharp as it had been on the dais. He was no paler than the rest of the Sightlands Brothers, and yet with his dark hair and black robes, he looked luminous in the dim light.
“I’ve spent enough time in the Soundlands to hear a mouse move,” he said. “And you, strange girl of the Brotherhood, are far louder than a mouse.”
Dread fell over my body like cold rain. I ducked my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were curious,” he said. “I don’t begrudge you that. But if you’re going to spy on people, you’ll need to be smarter.”
I kept my head down, the blush rising sharply to my cheeks as I waited for him to dismiss me. A scolding from the Threads would soon follow, I was certain of it. Embarrassment didn’t cover it; I felt entirely mortified.
“My name is Langnathin,” he said. “You are Tanidwen.”
He said it in the same way all of the Brothers did, quickly and emphasising each part the same, as if it was recited off a page and not a living name. There was no care given to the ‘a’, no warm rounding of it, no elongation of the first syllable. I was certain if I was a Tastelander, or from the Scented Hills, he would have taken the care. But as ever with Touchlanders, even our names were not granted a drop of the prince’s respect.
I nodded nonetheless.
“I requested an audience,” he said, and his tone lifted my eyes. He inclined two fingers towards him, ushering me forwards. “Let’s move inside. There may be more than your ears in this hall.”
Before I could react, he turned and opened the door again, stepping inside with his back to me. Curious, I followed him inside and closed the door.
His rooms were far grander than even Seth’s. The men bound to stay upon the island, such as Threads or the men who served it, were granted their own rooms. I, too, had my own room, but that was more from the accident of my womanhood than from any esteem. My room was plain, a cot bed and a small desk. Seth had plush sheets, a thicker mattress, and a freshly carved desk.
The Dragon Prince hadtworooms.
The one we walked into seemed to be for the sole object of sitting. One armchair sat opposite a narrow lounging chair, with a small table between the two. A steaming pot sat on a silver tray with two empty cups. Through an ajar door in the left corner, I saw the edge of a huge and comfortable bed, with the linens strewn across the mattress and a pillow lying discarded on the floor. I knew nothing of the politics of a man and a woman meeting alone, but it felt wrong for me to see his unmade bed, and I couldn’t help my blush.
“Tea?” Prince Langnathin asked, taking a seat and sweeping his hand in the direction of the steaming container.
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
“Your Grace.” His voice was lazy, but his piercing study was anything but.
I blinked. “Sorry?”
“You’re supposed to call me ‘Your Grace’.”
My blush grew. “Of course, Your Grace. I wasn’t thinking.”
He narrowed his eyes, but not unkindly. It was a look of discernment. I didn’t like it. He reached for the pot, and poured himself a cup of dark, hot liquid. I wasn’t sure why I’d said no. Itwas cold, and I did want tea, but it seemed more polite somehow to refuse him.
“Come closer.”
I shuffled a few steps forwards until I stood before the other chair. I rested my shaking hands on the back of it, using the soft velvet for support.
He watched me with such intensity that I desperately wanted to turn, but I was certain that would be rude. “How long have you been here?”
