A Strange and Ancient Name Read Online Free PDF

seduction would only have amused a subtle Faerie man. But she had been so sure the prince’s human blood would overwhelm him!
    Fool, the woman told herself without heat. Were he that weak, he wouldn’t have held the throne for a day.
    Charailis smiled sleepily. More experiments were definitely in order, not merely because on a purely sensual level she was wondering if Hauberin’s so exotic coloring meant an exotic taste in lovemaking as well. Sexual magic was a powerful force when properly controlled; bind Hauberin to her, mind and body, and who knew where it might lead? Of course, Serein would still need to be removed, and Ereledan (that hulking boor who couldn’t even control his own will). But they were both fools; they shouldn’t pose any real problems. Particularly once Hauberin was hers.
    Charailis raised a graceful hand to her head, indulging herself in a moment’s fantasy, imagining a crown there. Naturally, once fantasy became fact, she wouldn’t need Hauberin anymore. But with one of the true Faerie blood on the throne, who would miss one little half-human?
    Looking out into the coming dawn, Charailis smiled again.

    ###

    Ereledan hadn’t any intention of rushing off to his home this night. If Hauberin was urbane or foolish enough to offer hospitality to those guests who wanted it, so be it. For one thing, unlike that icy, so-proper Charailis, Ereledan had no pretty little team of winged steeds to whisk him away. For another, after that near-disastrous duel (he didn’t want to think of that too closely), leaving now would have looked like panicky or, worse, guilty flight.
    Besides, what better chance, when the nobility was gathered here from all over the land, to do some delicate prying? To see how many folk were discontent and just how many might consider a chance of leadership?
    But there’d been nothing but frustration! Even before the duel had spoiled everything, Ereledan still had uncovered no secret plots, no festering hate, nothing on which to build. Though, admittedly, there was a certain simple-minded thrill in meeting here, illicitly, within the walls of the palace, with these his fellow conspirators.
    They were his distant kinsmen, actually, related to him in such convoluted Faerie ways that even Ereledan wasn’t sure exactly how. At least, he thought with a touch of wry humor, if he was surprised by Hauberin’s guards despite the faint Warding he’d put on the room, he could always claim this was nothing more than a small family reunion.
    The Powers knew these . . . conspirators weren’t good for much else. Ereledan glared at the six of them and thought, What a lifeless lot! None had inherited the main stock’s flaming red hair or solid build. They were downright trite, alike in slender height and golden hair and that carefully developed air of world-weariness. As Ereledan paced, they sprawled at their languid ease, watching him from half-lidded, amused eyes.
    As though they expect me to entertain them, damn them!
    Of course. They were almost surely here out of boredom, not any true hatred for the prince; long Faerie lives led to mischief in those without any depth of mind. However, Ereledan told himself, one worked with the tools at hand.
    “You know why we’re here,” he began, and languid Astyal murmured: “Because you have dreams of glory.”
    “Because we’ve been ruled by a mongrel too long!” Ereledan snapped. “Because it’s time to put someone of the true blood on the throne.”
    “Your blood?” mused slender Sharial. “It seems to me I remember your grandsire’s deposing some time back. Mm, yes, and the elimination or most of your branch of the family.” A cold light flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t a comfortable time for the rest of us.”
    “What of it? The past is dead, and we—”
    “Must live in the present,” Astyal finished with a yawn. “Yes, yes, we’ve heard all the platitudes before. We know what you want, Ereledan. Tell us why we should