The Alton Gift Read Online Free PDF

no greater fame than what I earned through my music. Goodness knows, I tried everything to avoid being named the Heir to Alton when I first came to Darkover. When I surrendered my right to Armida to old Gabriel, I thought I was at last free from Comyn politics. But my life didn't work out that way."
    Neither will jours , she said silently. Like me, you will always have the steadfast support of those who love you .
    Marguerida got up from her desk and stood beside Domenic's chair, resting her gloved hand on his shoulder. When he had left Thendara three years ago, thinking to make a new life for himself at Neskaya Tower, he had spared no thought for what it cost her to let him go. He had focused only on his own desires, his own needs.
    In his memory, he saw Javanne as a young woman, setting aside her own hopes, fulfilling her duty to her caste, to her world. Releasing her own infant son to a harsh destiny Her gaze, unflinching and direct, challenged him to do the same. She called upon him to set aside the toys—and the dreams—of his childhood.
    "I am not my father, or Great-Uncle Regis," he said, his voice strangely thick. "But if I have no choice, then I must do my best."
    Marguerida's fingers tightened on his shoulder. "I know you will, my dear, and I have every confidence in you."
    As he forced a smile, Domenic imagined the walls of Comyn Castle closing in on him. One by one, the doors of his life swung closed, leaving only this narrow avenue.
    How could he complain? He had already been given far more freedom than any other young man in his position, certainly more than his own father or Great-Uncle Regis. Neither of them had had the luxury of studying in a Tower, or swimming in the Sea of Dalereuth, or walking the marketplace in Carthon. Why should he want more?
    If only Darkover did not sing to him in his dreams…
    Domenic did not see his father until later, in the cozy room that served as the family parlor and informal dining room. The sleeping chamber used by Marguerida and Mikhail lay beyond it, and their children's bedrooms were down a short hallway. The main hall, little used except for formal occasions, lay in the opposite direction. The great complex of Comyn Castle contained many such apartments, one area for each Domain. Most were used infrequently, only when the families came to Thendara for gatherings of the Comyn Council. Domenic's family was the exception, for Mikhail's duties as Regent required his year-round presence.
    These small, tidily appointed chambers were as familiar to Domenic as any he had known. Through that door, his mother had set up the office where she had received him on his arrival; here she entertained friends and composed music in moments snatched from her official duties. Farther down the hallway lay his father's study, part refuge, part solarium, part library.
    When Domenic entered the parlor, he found Yllana and Rory bent over a low table, playing castles. Marguerida sat nearby, picking out a melody on an old-fashioned rryl . Yllana sprang up and accepted Domenic's embrace. She was fifteen now, with tawny eyes and a girl's willowy grace. From the fleeting touch of her laran , she had clearly inherited their mother's quick wit and their father's cautiousness.
    "So the exile has returned," Rory said, clapping Domenic's shoulder. "For how long, this time?"
    "I am not certain, for there is much to be settled." Domenic felt Marguerida's eyes on him. He added, "I wish the reason had been less unhappy."
    In Domenic's absence, Rory had grown from an unruly adolescent to a man, although echoes of the old wildness still lingered in the roguish glint in his eyes. A curl at the corner of his mouth reminded Domenic of his brother's early penchant for mischief, the murals Rory had emblazoned on the parlor walls in chalk, the tarts stolen from the kitchen. Rory now carried himself with an assurance and restraint Domenic had never seen in him before. Clearly, Rory's training in the Guards had given