Shadow Over Kiriath Read Online Free
room the door opened and closed. Soft footfalls approached, a whispered exchange ensued, and after a moment Haldon cleared his throat.
“Sir?” he said quietly. “They’re ready for you now.”
CHAPTER
2
With the strains of Mandeville’s Second Concerto ringing in the air around her, Lady Madeleine Abigail Clarice Donavan, Second Daughter of the Chesedhan King Hadrich, finally reached the bottom of the Hall of Kings’ sloping central aisle and turned right. Heart thumping against her ribs, she angled across the open forestage in time to the music, her brother, Crown Prince Leyton, at her side. Together they headed for the royal box beside the granite outcropping that was the hall’s stage. In the eastern alcove beside them, an audience glared down at them, just like the larger audience now at her back had glared as she and Leyton had come down the aisle. At least no one had thrown anything or shouted insults. Yet.
Leyton led the way up a short stair into the velvet-swagged box and along the front row to Simon Kalladorne’s side, where he pivoted to face forward. Maddie followed suit, leaving the chair immediately to her left the only one in the box still waiting to be claimed. A raft of the highest nobles in the land stood on the risers behind her, their hostile gazes beating against the back of her neck. Few of them liked her much, anyway, and seeing her standing as her sister’s substitute in the place of highest honor beside Kiriath’s own crown princess only made things worse.
Leyton Donavan had arrived three days before the coronation with the news that his father, King Hadrich, had agreed to the marriage alliance Abramm had proposed. Seeing as the prospective bride would not arrive for at least another month, everyone believed they’d be discussing the matter for weeks. Instead, not twenty-four hours after Leyton’s arrival, Abramm had shocked them all by putting his own signature to the treaty. His privy counselors—and everyone else, for that matter—were still reeling from the speed of it all.
Even Maddie had been surprised.
Surprised. There was an understatement.
The thought knotted her stomach and stirred dangerous memories of last night’s dream—the kind you wanted to forget the moment you woke up and realized it was a dream, because you would never do the things you had done in it. In fact, it was hard for Maddie to accept the fact she’d even dreamt of doing them. And yet the very passion that had made the thing so scandalizing had also burned its images indelibly into her mind. . . .
He stood before her in the practice hall, holding her hands and gazing into her eyes. Even though Briellen stood nearby chatting with the courtiers, Maddie could not make herself look away, not even when his hand slid about her waist and pulled her to him—
Oh plagues! Think of something else .
Grimly, she focused on the rough granite stage below, the High Table of the Regalia to her right and the tall-backed Coronation Chair directly before her. To her left, just beyond where the granite sheared down to meet the carpeted forestage, stood the Receiving Throne on its five-stepped dais. Beyond it, a sea of faces flowed up the natural amphitheater along which the Hall of Kings had been built. Vertical white banners bearing Abramm’s dragon-and-shield coat of arms dangled above the restless crowd. At the height of the slope, a drapery-lined passageway beneath temporary wooden balconies led in from the front anteroom. Kiriath’s crown princess was just now emerging from its opening to start down the aisle. Once she had taken her place in the royal box, Abramm would begin his own procession.
The thought quickened Maddie’s pulse and sent warmth flooding through her again. . . .
Leyton leaned against her to murmur something, and she flinched, embarrassment flaming her face. Thankfully, he was looking toward the back of the stage, and she could gather her scattered thoughts without having to field
“Sir?” he said quietly. “They’re ready for you now.”
CHAPTER
2
With the strains of Mandeville’s Second Concerto ringing in the air around her, Lady Madeleine Abigail Clarice Donavan, Second Daughter of the Chesedhan King Hadrich, finally reached the bottom of the Hall of Kings’ sloping central aisle and turned right. Heart thumping against her ribs, she angled across the open forestage in time to the music, her brother, Crown Prince Leyton, at her side. Together they headed for the royal box beside the granite outcropping that was the hall’s stage. In the eastern alcove beside them, an audience glared down at them, just like the larger audience now at her back had glared as she and Leyton had come down the aisle. At least no one had thrown anything or shouted insults. Yet.
Leyton led the way up a short stair into the velvet-swagged box and along the front row to Simon Kalladorne’s side, where he pivoted to face forward. Maddie followed suit, leaving the chair immediately to her left the only one in the box still waiting to be claimed. A raft of the highest nobles in the land stood on the risers behind her, their hostile gazes beating against the back of her neck. Few of them liked her much, anyway, and seeing her standing as her sister’s substitute in the place of highest honor beside Kiriath’s own crown princess only made things worse.
Leyton Donavan had arrived three days before the coronation with the news that his father, King Hadrich, had agreed to the marriage alliance Abramm had proposed. Seeing as the prospective bride would not arrive for at least another month, everyone believed they’d be discussing the matter for weeks. Instead, not twenty-four hours after Leyton’s arrival, Abramm had shocked them all by putting his own signature to the treaty. His privy counselors—and everyone else, for that matter—were still reeling from the speed of it all.
Even Maddie had been surprised.
Surprised. There was an understatement.
The thought knotted her stomach and stirred dangerous memories of last night’s dream—the kind you wanted to forget the moment you woke up and realized it was a dream, because you would never do the things you had done in it. In fact, it was hard for Maddie to accept the fact she’d even dreamt of doing them. And yet the very passion that had made the thing so scandalizing had also burned its images indelibly into her mind. . . .
He stood before her in the practice hall, holding her hands and gazing into her eyes. Even though Briellen stood nearby chatting with the courtiers, Maddie could not make herself look away, not even when his hand slid about her waist and pulled her to him—
Oh plagues! Think of something else .
Grimly, she focused on the rough granite stage below, the High Table of the Regalia to her right and the tall-backed Coronation Chair directly before her. To her left, just beyond where the granite sheared down to meet the carpeted forestage, stood the Receiving Throne on its five-stepped dais. Beyond it, a sea of faces flowed up the natural amphitheater along which the Hall of Kings had been built. Vertical white banners bearing Abramm’s dragon-and-shield coat of arms dangled above the restless crowd. At the height of the slope, a drapery-lined passageway beneath temporary wooden balconies led in from the front anteroom. Kiriath’s crown princess was just now emerging from its opening to start down the aisle. Once she had taken her place in the royal box, Abramm would begin his own procession.
The thought quickened Maddie’s pulse and sent warmth flooding through her again. . . .
Leyton leaned against her to murmur something, and she flinched, embarrassment flaming her face. Thankfully, he was looking toward the back of the stage, and she could gather her scattered thoughts without having to field
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