Page 19 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
“I don’t, Ehmet. I think they’ll be fine with one per carriage and another assigned to the children. Best not to draw attention to the group.”
“Is the journey particularly dangerous?” Nes asked, having noticed the king seemed preoccupied with their safety.
Queen Hevva sputtered with laughter. “Not at all, Miss Kiappa. It’s quite safe. My dear husband here is a worrywart and would send an entire battalion along if I allowed it.”
Nesrina was relieved to hear that the road to Stormhill wouldn’t be paved with danger. Though, she wasn’t sure about the halls of the estate itself.
“I’m allowed to send one soldier of my choosing,” the king lamented, a charming pout on his face. “I’m sending Sarma, by the way,” he added for the queen’s benefit.
“Good choice. He’s a fine young man.”
A fine young man, indeed.Nesrina couldn’t help the heat rising to her cheeks at the thought of Rihan Sarma escorting her—well, escorting the prince and princess—to Stormhill. Forget the stress of the dratted duke and travel days ahead, everything felt bearable knowing her golden-haired guard would be coming along.
“Oh, Miss Kiappa!” The queen startled. “While you’re at Stormhill, would you please keep an eye on my brother, too?”
Her Rihan-induced blush drained away, and her brow pleated in spite of her best efforts to remain neutral.
Queen Hevva continued, “He was looking far too thin for my liking on this past visit.”
The king grunted his agreement.
“I want you to ensure he’s eating, as often as you’re able to, of course. Kas...” She scrunched her brow. “He gets lost in his own head, regularly. And I’m entrusting you with this task. Reminding him should do the trick.”
“Five additional gold pieces per month,” the king added, “for aiding my beautiful queen in her endless quest to keep her baby brother fed.”
Queen Hevva laughed, while Nesrina balked at the absurdly large sum of money being offered. Her salary was nine pieces per month, and with the Rashooli family it had been four. She’d be a fool to decline, especially when that amount would allow Mama to retire as planned before Papa’s passing. She sipped the last of her wine and mulled the offer over. All she had to do was remind the lanky lord to eat a meal from time to time? Permission to pester the infuriating mananda larger paycheck?
Nesrina smiled placidly at the king and queen. “I’ll do it.”
“Ah, fantastic!” The king moved to clap his hands, forgetting he was holding a tumbler of whiskey. One of his rings tinged loudly against the glass, startling them all.
The distinctly human error reminded her, these were people too, not just nobles. Emboldened, she asked, “May I make one request? Would you be able to have payment sent directly to my mother for the extra task? I would send a portion on my own, but with the distance between here and Stormhill, and back to Napivol...”
“Certainly,” Queen Hevva agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s no trouble at all. And thank you for agreeing to assist me with my whims.”
With that, Nesrina was dismissed.
TheroadtoStormhillwas long and dusty. On their third and final night of the journey, Rihan invited Nes for a walk around the town. She readily agreed to join him, in dire need of fresh, cool air, and a moment alone with the handsome man.
“I don’t think I’ve ever asked where you’re from,” she mused as they ambled back toward the inn.
“In the west, near Midlake. My cousin’s the earl, actually.”
“Of Midlake?” She cocked her head at him as he led them down the road.
Nodding, he flashed her a charming grin. “Yep. My dad was second born. He’s a knight, though. What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Napivol,” she offered.Did that make him a commoner or an aristocrat?“But my mama’s from Midlake.”
“That’s really interesting,” Rihan murmured as the back of his hand brushed hers.
Passing beneath a back gateway they found themselves by the quiet stables. Inside the inn, however, was a raucous affair. The ground floor burst with light and sound as boots stomped and a jaunty tune shook the walls. When the lively song ended and the din of applause wafted from the open windows, Rihan stepped in front of her, offering a hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
The new song seemed a bit depressing and slow; she imagined the folks inside were taking the opportunity to catch their breath and maybe grab a fresh pint before the tempo kicked up again. Still, she accepted, allowing him to sweep her into a slightly plodding routine on the hard-packed earth.
Little clouds of dust kicked up from Nesrina’s slippers as he draggedher about, and a giggle escaped her. The song came to an end, and Rihan held her in position, one hand laced in hers and the other resting on the small of her back.
