The Black Prince: Part II Read Online Free PDF Page A

Rowena replied. “How can you not take pride in such a thing?”
    “And isn’t that what you were saying, that you objected to being treated like a piece of meat?”
    “But you’re beautiful, too.” Rowena took a step toward him. “So you understand.”
    Callas, once again, said nothing. Nor did he react, when Rowena placed a hand on his chest. They stood like that for a long moment. It was only when she leaned forward, as if to kiss him, that he took a step back. “Rowena, please.”
    “I just want beauty in my life. Love. To feel wanted.” She took another step forward, heedless of his rejection, and threw her arms around him. She kissed him, or attempted to. “I know you want me.” Her words had an almost pleading tone. “All men do. And you can have me. However…however you want.”
    Callas disengaged her, planting her firmly on the ground before him. “No.”
    “Is it because I’m married? Because Rudolph isn’t—”
    “It’s because,” Callas said, “you’re not my type.”
    Rowena blinked, stunned. “Why not?”
    His eyes, on hers, were hard. “Because I avoid shallow people. Especially those whose hearts are all but consumed by the same jealousy they attribute to others. To substitute judgment for a commitment to learning. A commitment that, I might add, has shaped my adult life.”
    “But you’re…not like these other people. Not like my husband.”
    “Yes. He is the son of a baron. Whereas I, my lady, am the child of yeoman farmers. I possess no title, and no wealth.”
    “But that doesn’t matter now, you’re—”
    “It matters to me.” His tone was impossibly cold.
    “But you can’t—”
    “And now,” he said, “I bid you good evening. Before you embarrass yourself further.”
    And with that, he turned on his heel and left.
    Rowena called after him, but to no avail.
    And then she turned, and came face to face with Isla.
    They stared at each other for a long moment.
    And then, “how much did you hear?”
    “How did you trick him into coming out here with you?” At first, Isla hadn’t been sure. Had wondered, briefly, if she’d misjudged Callas. If they all had. But then, as she’d studied their—not even words, but body language—she’d understood. Rowena had gotten Callas alone on some pretext, with the intent of seducing him.
    “I didn’t trick him.”
    “You’ve been married to Rudolph for less than a moon.”
    Rowena threw her hands up. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.
You
have everything: a husband everyone wants. Everything.”
    And thus it came full circle.
    “I don’t have everything, Rowena.” Isla was calm. “No one does.”
    “Rudolph…looks so stupid here, next to all these Northmen. And they
think
he’s stupid. You can tell by how they talk to him. Indulgently, like they’re talking to a child.” Rowena had worked herself up into a state and was on the verge of tears. “No one’s impressed with him. Not with him and not with his family. He’s just—he’s ridiculous! That’s all he is. A ridiculous, stupid no one from the middle of nowhere and I hate him! I hate him!”
    Rowena ran off, hands pressed to her face.
    Isla stood there, well and truly alone this time, for a long time.



FOUR
    W hen she came back inside, the feast was over.
    She walked across the great hall, filled now only with the music of snores, toward the door to their private rooms. Snores, punctuated by the occasional snort. She’d been outside longer than she’d thought. Although these things tended to end rather quickly, as a man could only drink so much before his body rebelled. Some had managed to stumble off, to rooms if they had them or to the stables, to bed down with the horses. But just as many had passed out on benches, or slept now with their cheeks pressed to their trenchers.
    Isla passed through the family’s private living room, past the candelabra that had been extinguished and the fire that had been damped down for the night, and ascended