How about writing to your brother?" Oria asked at last.
"Bran is good, and kind, and as honest as the stars are old," I said, "but the more I read, the more I realize that he has no political sense at all. He takes people as he finds them. I don't think he'd have the first notion about what makes a good or bad ruler."
Oria nodded slowly. "In fact, I suspect he would not even like being asked." She gave me a straight look. "There is one person you could ask, and that is the Marquis of Shevraeth."
"Ask the putative next king to evaluate his rival? Not even I would do that," I said with a grimace. "No."
"Then you could go to Court and evaluate them yourself," she stated. "Why not? Everything is finished here, or nearly. We have peace in the county, and as for the house, you made me steward. Will you trust me to carry your plans forward?"
"Of course I will," I said impatiently. "But that's not the issue. I won't go to Court. I don't want to…"
"Don't want to what?" Oria persisted.
I sighed. "Don't want to relive the old humiliations."
"What humiliations?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "Mel, the whole country thinks you a heroine for facing down Galdran."
"Not everyone," I muttered. Oria crossed her arms. "Which brings us right back," she said, "to that Marquis."
I sighed again. "If I never see him again, I will be content--"
"You'll not," Oria said firmly.
I shook my head and looked out sightlessly at the snow, my mind instead reliving memories of the year before. I could just picture how he must have described our encounters--always in that drawling voice, with his courtier's wit--for the edification of the sophisticates at Court. How much laughter had every noble in the kingdom enjoyed at the expense of the barefoot, ignorant Countess Meliara Astiar of Tlanth?
"Bran is good, and kind, and as honest as the stars are old," I said, "but the more I read, the more I realize that he has no political sense at all. He takes people as he finds them. I don't think he'd have the first notion about what makes a good or bad ruler."
Oria nodded slowly. "In fact, I suspect he would not even like being asked." She gave me a straight look. "There is one person you could ask, and that is the Marquis of Shevraeth."
"Ask the putative next king to evaluate his rival? Not even I would do that," I said with a grimace. "No."
"Then you could go to Court and evaluate them yourself," she stated. "Why not? Everything is finished here, or nearly. We have peace in the county, and as for the house, you made me steward. Will you trust me to carry your plans forward?"
"Of course I will," I said impatiently. "But that's not the issue. I won't go to Court. I don't want to…"
"Don't want to what?" Oria persisted.
I sighed. "Don't want to relive the old humiliations."
"What humiliations?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "Mel, the whole country thinks you a heroine for facing down Galdran."
"Not everyone," I muttered. Oria crossed her arms. "Which brings us right back," she said, "to that Marquis."
I sighed again. "If I never see him again, I will be content--"
"You'll not," Oria said firmly.
I shook my head and looked out sightlessly at the snow, my mind instead reliving memories of the year before. I could just picture how he must have described our encounters--always in that drawling voice, with his courtier's wit--for the edification of the sophisticates at Court. How much laughter had every noble in the kingdom enjoyed at the expense of the barefoot, ignorant Countess Meliara Astiar of Tlanth?
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Court Duel ]
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