Twelve Days of Faery Read Online Free Page A

and flicked them back up at the doctor. “You seem disturbed, Romalier. Are your concerns for the fact that I hired another practitioner, or that she’s female?”
    “I’m certainly not threatened by the investigations of an enchantress ,” said Doctor Romalier stiffly. “If your majesty chooses to hire a woman to do the work of a doctor, that is of course your right. I was merely concerned about the young woman’s safety. She is young and fragile.”
    “She’s certainly very young,” agreed Markon. “I think you’ll find that she’s reasonably resilient, however.”
    “I see,” said the doctor coldly. “I’m sorry your majesty felt such a lack of confidence in my abilities, and in Wyndsor’s willingness to assist.”
    “I’ve never doubted Wyndsor’s willingness,” said Markon. “However, in Montalier we have a saying, doctor: One man may eat a pie, but two men can eat three .”
    “How—er, pithy—your majesty.”
    “Yes, isn’t it?” said Markon, and for the first time during this interview, his smile was a real one. “The enchantress is conducting a rather different kind of investigation. I’m sure your two styles can coexist.”
    “I will not be responsible for any danger the Young Person may find herself in,” said the doctor, more stiffly than ever.
    “Then I suppose it’s just as well I haven’t asked you to be responsible for her, isn’t it?” said Markon gently. He didn’t add that he was quite capable of looking after the young women of the castle because it occurred to him just in time that the trail of bodies and mutilated young women would prove an embarrassing veto.
    “Wyndsor has been very... attentive ...in this matter, but I do expect cooperation with anyone else I choose to hire for the job. Thank you for your concern, Doctor.”
    “I will of course cooperate to the best of my ability,” said Doctor Romalier, an angry light to his eyes. And then, since he couldn’t do anything but accept the dismissal, he bowed short and sharp, and said: “My apologies for interrupting you, your majesty. I shall remove myself.”
    Oh, if only! thought Markon wearily, and went back to his trade papers.
                  By evening there were two trays of cold food on the occasional table beside Markon’s desk, and he had managed to lose the important part of the Avernse/Montalier export proposal. He was engaged in sifting through the mess on his desk when Althea’s voice said: “You should try a new filing system.”
    Markon looked up rather wildly through the sea of paper. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder why I employ a guard for that staircase.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Althea. “I noticed your Doctor Romalier slipping past him earlier, so I showed the guard how to look at things from the corners of his eyes. You shouldn’t have any more unexpected visitors.”
    “Yes, but you’re here,” protested Markon. It was obvious that the Avernse/Montalier trade agreement was not going to be finalised today.
    “Well, yes. I didn’t show him how to stop me getting past.”
    “Of course not!” said Markon. “How can I help you, lady?”
    “You should eat more,” Althea said. She was looking over the two trays of untouched food. “You’re too thin.”
    “You said I was handsome yesterday,” said Markon, forgetting about the trade agreement in pursuance of more interesting topics.
    “You are,” Althea told him. She tossed him a peach from one of the trays, and took another for herself. Markon found himself eating it because it was there, and discovered that he was really very hungry. “But you need to take care of yourself.”
    “In Montalier we have a saying,” said Markon, enjoying himself.
    Althea looked unimpressed. “Does it have anything to do with pies?”
    “ The baker of the pies is the last to taste their sweetness ,” Markon continued, ignoring her. He picked through the rest of the cold food and found an apple tart.