Page 24 of The Mountain King
“Father wanted you to feel comfortable,” Amnan said, sipping a clear drink. She had to give him credit; he didn’t seem bored, following her and the girls around.
“You don’t have to stick to us like a burr,” she said, lifting a well-cut denim duster from a stack of gently used clothing, inspecting the hems to see if the seams were hand sewn or machine stitched. “I’m sure there will be no mischief, and we can handle ourselves, after all.”
“I’m not here to protect you from them,” he said, continuing to watch the crowd. “But them from you. We’ve been warned about your temper concerning your daughters, mistress. My father prefers there be no bloodshed tonight.”
His answer satisfied her. Proper respect paid to her abilities didn’t trouble Kailigh—she was gratified her reputation preceded her.
“Regardless, I’d like to wander a bit without a man hovering over my shoulders. Go play, Princeling. Loosen the corset a bit.”
He turned his head and looked at her, a long, steady look she returned, unperturbed. Maybe one of the girls might have been pulled under by that stare—but he wasn’t his father, and she wasn’t one of the girls.
“Very well. I’ll be within shouting distance if some poor fool needs rescuing from you.”
“I can behave myself.” She paused, eyeing him curiously. “I’ve met you—and I’ve seen that ne’er-do-well you call a brother—Hrutha. But I haven’t met the third. Your Da said there were three.”
Amnan’s expression darkened, just a bit. “You’ll see him soon enough, mistress. He doesn’t care for company these days.”
The words were neutral, but she understood that neutrality often hid painful things. And found, oddly enough, that she cared. “Is he well?” she asked “Don’t neglect your family on account of my daughters and I—we can fend for ourselves, and have been for years.”
He inclined his head. “My brother will keep for now, but I thank you for the concern.”
She kept close to the tent at first, wanting to see how her daughters would behave when not under her watchful eye—conveniently forgetting that the two eldest were, at least legally, considered adults. It was a good thing, too, since Persia approached a while later, her brow furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” Kai asked. She sat on a bench just outside the square with the tent, watching foot traffic go by.
Persia chewed her lip. “I think I saw some of Ruthus’ men.”
“What?”
Persia gave a quick description. “Why would Maddugh let all the humans in? They usually don’t just open the flood gates.”
“It’s supposed to be a special occasion.” Kailigh rose, worried. “What were they doing?”
“Just wandering around. I couldn’t tell if they were scouting or just getting a lay of the land—taking advantage of the opportunity to sneak in with everyone else.”
Kai’s mouth thinned. “Let’s find Maddugh or one of his sons.”
They ran into Amnan first, who evidently hadn’t been that far away himself, since he appeared out of the shadow almost as soon as they began scouring the crowds.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice sharp.
Kai glanced at Persia and her daughter recounted what she’d seen.
Amnan looked thoughtful. “Your youngest child stayed behind, correct?”
Kai nodded. “She wasn’t feeling well at the last minute.”
“What would Ruthus do if he knew Cin was by herself and we were all at the faire?” Persia asked.
“Distraction,” Kai said.
“I’m certain my father had Hrutha set extra guards in that wing of the house. But.” Amnan nodded. “Come, I’d rather be over-cautious than not at all.”
