Page 7 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
“I was covering for Aram when you met with the king, but now I’m on duty.”
He probably shouldn’t be telling her, a near stranger, quite so much about the guard rotations, but who was she to judge? Instead, Nes smiled and nodded along as he spoke about shift changes and assignments, finding his handsome visage a welcome balm to the stress of her day. Eventually, he remembered his duties and opened the door for her.
Thanking him, Nesrina was stepping forward, when a noise drew her attention down the hall. That rude man ambled her way, yet again. He’dchanged his jacket, but there was no mistaking his wild hair or his imposing height. Luckily, he seemed deep in thought, offering her a moment to escape and avoid possible confrontation. She bestowed a smile on Rihan, then fled through the doorway to face the king and queen.
Already seated at the circular table, King Hethtar and Queen Hevva chatted quietly, sipping their goblets of wine. They stood when she entered, and Nes half-expected a butler or other servant to announce her arrival. But no one else was there.
The pair were dressed far more casually than earlier: the queen in a deceptively simple periwinkle gown that Nes could tell, even from a distance, was made of fine silk; and the king in a solid white tunic, his top buttons undone and chest hair poking free. He reminded her of her father, and she swallowed down the bitter taste of melancholy.
Had they dressed down for her sake? Or was this how they typically dined?
“We like to keep things casual, whenever possible.”The king’s words from earlier rattled by, reassuring her she’d made the right choice by not crafting a glamorous dress for the meal.
“Miss Kiappa, welcome,” King Hethtar boomed, and she wondered if he was capable of a whisper.
Nes curtsied as his wife said, “The twins will join us shortly. Adella and Ataht are excited to meet you.”
Sitting in the chair the queen indicated, Nesrina crossed her ankles and tangled her fingers atop her lap. There were two empty seats to her left, between her and the king, and a single chair to her right, between her and the queen.
As if on cue, the door opened and the twins scampered in. The ten-year-olds were nearly the same height, but similarities ended there. Where Princess Adella was slender and fair-haired like her mother, Prince Ataht was stockier and had his father’s chestnut waves.
Nes moved to stand in the presence of the young royals, but the queen tutted softly and motioned that she should remain seated.
“Are you our new tutor?” the girl squealed as she bounced over and sat on Nesrina’s left.
The boy hurtled past, flying into the seat between his sister and papa so fast she thought the entire chair might tip. The king tossed out a steadying hand and scooted his son closer to the table.
“Della, Ataht, we have someone for you to meet.” Queen Hevva ignored their question, coaxing them to behave, all with the tone of her voice.
The twins sat tall on their chairs, and Nes had a feeling they were as settled and patient as they could manage. Two sets of legs swished beneath the table while they awaited their mother’s next words.
Introductions were made all around, and as Nesrina returned the princess’s adorable and unprompted handshake, several servants bustled in to place an array of dishes before them.
“Hmph,” the king grunted, looking pointedly at the empty chair on Nes’s right.
“I know.” The queen spoke softly, though her tone carried annoyance as well. Nesrina didn’t miss the way Queen Hevva placed her palm on the king’s burly forearm, placating him from whatever was bothering them both.
“Let’s eat,” King Hethtar proclaimed, the empty dining chair forgotten as he reached for a serving spoon that appeared normal-sized in his gigantic hands.
When their plates were filled, he raised his glass. “May we give thanks to the great people of Duhra whose toil ensures food upon our tables. May the gods bless our homes with honey, wheat, meat, and mead for many years to come.”
“To Duhra,” the group intoned.
“And to Selwas, may our forests grow green, our rivers reach the sea, and our honey flow free, forevermore.”
“To Selwas, forevermore.” They spoke in unison, lifted their goblets, and drank to the toast.
Not for the first time, Nes wondered how old the words of the common pre-meal toast could possibly be. Each of the four territories were thanked: Selwas, their home, a huge producer of honey; Gramenia in the west, respected for its great harvests; Karova in the east, the land of meat and fur; and Domos in the north, best known for their delicious whiskiesand decadent wines. The words could be as old as the territories themselves. Older perhaps.
She was pulled from her reverie by the strange way the candles flickered—or didn’t. The frantic dance of flames slowed before her eyes, and Nes watched for a moment, wanting to be sure it wasn’t her imagination before she spoke.
Across from her, the king and queen casually debated who the goblet between them belonged to as they’d both been drinking from it. To her left, the twins bickered about something trivial, as siblings do.
The princess jabbed at her brother with a fork, and the prince reared back before pulling a blob of something from thin air, flinging it at his sister’s face. She shrieked, her small hands flying up as she struggled to pull the sticky substance from her skin. Wide-eyed, the prince’s gaze darted between his hand and his sister’s face.
The queen and Nesrina moved at the same moment, but Queen Hevva retook her seat, giving Nes a nod to go ahead and handle the situation.
Mind clear, her humming body calmed by the opportunity to teach, Nesrina moved between the two siblings to squat behind their chairs. First, she turned her attention to the girl. “Are you all right, Princess?”
