Queen's Heart: An Arthurian Paranormal Romance (Arthurian Hearts Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Whitehaven. The mourning cloth that covered Yseult’s skirts and worn by half the House was proof of that. My kin and hers were enemies. The Morholt’s death only solidified the ugly hate between our Houses, though I was hard pressed to name the thing that had turned one against the other.
    Yseult’s father was a cordial king, her mother full of kindness. The knights were loud with quick tempers and lewd manners who bickered and fought no differently from how my uncle’s men commanded themselves. In short, there was little difference between us save for the small breadth of sea that divided us.
    If I could win Yseult’s heart, perhaps I could also win a peace between Tintagel and Whitehaven. A bond forged in blood and tempered by the eternal flames of love.
    But the first step to winning her heart was to win her favor.
    And to do that, I would have to put aside the harp and take up the sword. On the tourney field there were none better than I save for the knights of legend.
    I could—almost—feel sorry for Palomides.

CHAPTER EIGHT

YSEULT
    When we arrived back at Whitehaven, Brangien was beside herself, meeting us breathlessly moments after we turned our mounts over to the horse master to stable.
    “My Lady! I’ve been waiting for you! There’s news from—” Mouth and eyes went wide at sight of Palomides as she caught up to us. I hoped I hadn’t looked quite so ridiculous as she when I first laid eyes on him. In other circumstances I would have laughed and needled her as best friends will. But the word ‘news’ only made me anxious to hear what she had to say, and being struck speechless was less endearing than irritating right now.
    “Brangien! You were saying—?”
    Blushing almost as deep a red as the strands of hair that framed her pretty face, she swallowed hard. “News from Cornwall. A messenger from Tintagel. Your father commands you to dine with him this evening, and invited all the House to do the same. He ordered a roast pig.”
    Drustan grabbed Brangien’s upper arm and I could plainly see the control he exerted to not bruise her in his haste. “Tintagel? You’re sure?”
    She nodded, eyes wide as twin moons against a pale sky.
    “Do you know what news?”
    She shook her head. “Only that King Anguish seemed pleased. After that business with The Morholt—begging your pardon for bringing up his memory, my Lady—I thought for sure we’d see war. But the king’s mood is… light.” She turned back to me. “Not so much your mother’s, though. But she seemed more angry at the king.”
    Angry? I could feel my forehead crease. Mother was the indulgent and easy-going sort. That she could be brought to anger—especially toward her husband whom she adored—only piqued my interest in the news from Cornwall.
    “Sir?” Brangien squirmed under Drustan’ hard grip. He blinked, and as his distant stare returned to the handmaid I was certain he had quite forgotten she was there. Releasing her, he retreated into himself, as if somehow this news were personal to him. Had he guessed something I had not? Something sinister that Brangien too had missed? I looked to Palomides to see if he had the same reaction, only to find him staring at Drustan with a brow as furrowed as mine.
    Whatever the issue, it would have to wait as the sun was sinking fast to the west and Father would be expecting me soon. “Drustan, see that Sir Palomides finds a place at the table this evening. Brangien, come help me change.”
    I nudged the handmaid to get her attention as Drustan led Palomides off to acquaint him with the House. For a breathspace, I had seen the look of a hunted deer in Drustan’ eyes. Then that flash of panic passed to be replaced by a haunted expression so uncharacteristic of him I blinked to see if I had mis-seen. Whatever he’d reacted to, however, would need wait now till morning at the earliest before I could question him about it.
    “Who is he?” Brangien asked as we made our way to the wing of