Daughter of Regals Read Online Free Page A

the
applause faded, I looked to him, letting him see in my eyes that, whatever
transpired later, much would be forgiven him for what he had done here. Then,
before the assemblage, I said, “Mage, I thank you. The Phoenix-Regal held you
to be the one true man in the Three Kingdoms. I am gladdened to learn that
there are others like you here.” I spoke brightly, so that no one would miss
the threat I implied toward those who did not support me.
    Bearing
my smile and my plain white dress in the place of Magic, I moved to greet King
Thone and his party, choosing him because he stood nearer to me than the other
rulers.
    Around
the hall, another murmuring arose and subsided. Everyone wanted to hear what
would pass between me and my principal enemies.
    Thone considered
himself a sophisticate, and he bowed over my hand in a courtly and suave
manner, kissing the backs of my fingers—the only public display of which the
Regals had ever required of the three rulers. Yet his eyes disturbed me as much
as ever. They appeared milky, opaque, as though he were nearly blind. And their
colour concealed the character of his thoughts. As a result, the simple quality
of his gaze seemed to give everything he said another meaning, a hidden intent.
    Like
several of his adherents, he wore at his side a slim sword as if it were merely
decorative, a part of his apparel.
    Nevertheless,
I greeted him with an air of frankness, pretending that I had nothing to fear.
And likewise I greeted his Mage, Cashon of Canna, though that man perplexed me.
He was tall and straight; and until the passing of the Phoenix-Regal his repute
had matched his stature, for both strength and probity—and perhaps also for a
certain simplicity. Though his home was in Lodan—and though his arts would have
been highly prized in Nabal, for the smelting and refining of ores—he contented
himself with Canna, where the most arduous work asked of him was the clearing
of stubbled fields, or perhaps the protection of frost-threatened orchards.
This he did because he had wedded a woman of Canna. Doting on her extremely, he
had set aside numerous opportunities to stand among the foremost folk of the
realm. So I had been surprised—and Ryzel astonished—when Cashon had suddenly
declared his allegiance to King Thone, displacing the monarch’s lesser
dependents. We had not thought that this Mage would have stomach for Thone’s
invidious pursuits.
    He
greeted me at his chosen lord’s right hand and kept his gaze shrouded, hiding
his thoughts. But he could not conceal the lines, which marked his face. Some
acid of sorrow or futility had cut into his visage, wakening his mouth, causing
the flesh to sag from the line of his jaw. He had an aspect of secret suffering
which both moved and alarmed me.
    “My
lord Thone,” I said, still smiling, “I have not yet had opportunity to
congratulate you on winning such a man as the Mage Cashon to your service. You
are indeed fortunate.”
    “Thank
you, my lady,” Thone replied in a negligent tone, as if he were bored. “I have
great need of him. He has made himself a master of Fire, as you know.”
    By this
he meant, of course, that Cashon cast images of the Real flame that melted and
flowed deep under the mountains of Nabal. There was much debate in the realm as
to which form of magery was most powerful. The images of the great Creatures
were certainly potent, but many argued that in practical application either
Wind or Fire was the sovereign strength. No one comprehended the uses of
Wood—no one except Ryzel, who said nothing on the subject—and Stone appeared
too passive to be considered. King Thone’s milky eyes gave the impression that
he had offered me a hint, which I was too obtuse to follow.
    When I
simply nodded, he changed his topic without discernible awkwardness or obvious
relevance.
    “Have
you heard,” he said in that same tone, “that Kodar and his rebels intend to
commemorate this night with another attack? My spies are