Shana Abe Read Online Free PDF Page A

child like that?
    Elfrieda was leaving, bobbing more curtsies at the door, mumbling something incoherent and thankful before she was gone.
    Avalon went back to the window and stared, unseeing, at the view.

    C ousin Bryce was laughing loud and long at something Avalon had said which was not particularly humorous.
    Avalon found that the evening meal was punctuated with such laughter from him, accompanied by exclamations of her wit and charm. It was both unnerving and tiresome. Perhaps he actually thought her completely lacking in wit, Avalon considered, to think he was fooling her—that she would believe his show was natural, that he really cared enough about what she thought of his presentation of the leek pie to bring it up three times.
    But she smiled cordially and nodded and made the appropriate comments to her host as they ate at his table on the dais in the hall that used to be her father’s.
    Soldiers and nobles alike sat alongside each other in the large room, dining almost in silence as her cousin plowed on with his anecdotes and solicitations of her opinion. He offered her the choicest portions of each serving, fawned over her as she tried to eat, admired her manners repeatedly, and constantly refilled her goblet until it remained brimming with wine, untouched.
    It was almost as if he were courting her, Avalon thought, disbelieving, but then shook her head at the idea. No matter how overly friendly he might be, Bryce d’Farouche was still her cousin, albeit once or twice removed. And he was already quite married.
    Lady Claudia ate almost nothing, Avalon noted. She merely sat back in her chair and sipped her wine, watching her husband, watching Avalon. She had not joined in at Avalon’s tentative attempt to include her in the conversation, but had instead stared at her, silent, letting Avalon’s polite observation of some insignificant fact drift off, unanswered. Then she turned her head away and took another drink from her goblet. Bryce had talked over the moment, distracting Avalon by offering her another serving of venison. Avalon had declined.
    She had never had such a strange meal, not even in Scotland, where the men remained boisterous while they ate, nor at Gatting, where all attempts to show her the world of the well bred had included dinner conversations not monopolized by one person.
    Her father’s hall had always been loud and cheerful, or so it had seemed to the little girl who watched enviously from the top of the main stairs, still too young to join them.
    This was a different time and place, obviously. This was not the home she remembered. There was a tension here, no doubt about it, the
wrongness
around them all fed by the nervous looks of the nobles, the grim chewing of the soldiers.
    Lady Claudia, watchful and filled with wine, now sat with a slightly curling smile on her lips.
    Avalon had to stop herself from leaping to her feet when the last course was finished.
    “I thank you for your hospitality, cousin,” she said, pushing back her chair in what she hoped was a slow enough fashion.
    Bryce stood up much more quickly. “What? Are you thinking of retiring so soon, dear Avalon?”
    The hall fell silent.
    She paused, still sitting, then replied, “Why, yes, I am. It has been a very long day.”
    Bryce maneuvered himself until he was standing behind Claudia’s chair as Avalon watched from hers, wary. He placed one meaty hand on his wife’s shoulder.
    “But the hour is yet early, Avalon! Do not say you will leave us so soon. Why, Claudia has been telling me how much she looked forward to hearing you play for us after the meal, is it not so, my wife?”
    Lady Claudia’s teeth were stained with red wine, making her mouth ruby bright. She licked her lips and gave a lazy smile. “It is so.”
    Avalon stood up and spoke firmly.
    “Indeed, I am sorry to disappoint you both, but I’m afraid I have no talent for music. I cannot play.”
    Bryce put his other hand on Claudia’s shoulder. “Of