The Dragon of Despair Read Online Free PDF

continued, “and the king is wearied of hard chairs and tables.”
    Derian offered Sir Dirkin a bow.
    “It’s good to see you, Sir Dirkin. Have you wintered well?”
    “Well enough. The cold months have flown by, to be honest, with Princess Sapphire and Prince Shad in residence. There has been much going on.”
    Derian didn’t doubt it. The sporadic letters that residents of the Norwood estate had received from friends and family in the capital city had been filled with accounts of balls, receptions, and less formal social occasions—enough so that Lady Luella, Earl Kestrel’s wife, had been quite put out that she and her children were isolated in the North Woods. Accounts of how she had scolded her husband had quite livened the servants’ hall.
    Earl Kestrel had not given in before Lady Luella’s fury, even though House Kestrel maintained a residence in the capital that could easily have been made ready for them. Doubtless he felt that he had earned enough reputation for his house over the previous summer—and all his children but for Edlin, and perhaps Firekeeper, were too young for him to seriously be playing matchmaker. Even if they had been, it would not have mattered. Norvin Norwood was not one of those who believed that marrying off children was the best way to build social status.
    If he had been, Derian thought, we never would have gone west a year ago, nor would Earl Kestrel have risked his life leading cavalry in King Allister’s War.
    These thoughts flew through Derian’s mind as he followed Sir Dirkin through the conference room and along a minor maze of passages until they came to the king’s winter sitting room.
    Derian had never been here before—in the summer the south-facing windows would have made the room stifling. In winter, however, they added a pleasant glow of sunlight to the warmth from the fire blazing on the hearth.
    When Derian entered, the king was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs nearest to the blaze. King Tedric was a bent man, well into his eighth decade. His brown eyes might have paled with the years, but their gaze remained sharp and he studied Derian as the youth made his bow.
    Without rising, he motioned Derian to a chair facing his own, acknowledging the youth’s deep bow with a friendly nod.
    “Pull the chair back from the fire, if you wish,” the king said. “Your blood is still thick and hot, not thinned to whey like mine.”
    Derian took King Tedric’s advice. The room seemed overly hot, even when he pulled his chair away from the blaze. In any case, he had learned that King Tedric, unlike some of the other nobles Derian had met, saved his subtle games for serious matters, not wasting his energy on little matters of etiquette and precedence.
    Unless, that is, Derian thought wryly, he can use those games to set some adversary off balance.
    “I’ve asked,” King Tedric went on, “Firekeeper, and my heirs to join us. Queen Elexa would do so as well, but she’s resting. Caught a bad chill this winter. It settled in her chest and she’s having trouble shaking it.”
    Derian murmured his concern. It was sincerely felt, though he hardly knew Queen Elexa. All his life and long before that Elexa Wellward had been Tedric’s reliable other self, ruling in his stead when—as last summer—the king had been forced to be away from the capital. Her health had never been sturdy, however, and Derian worried that this illness might be the beginning of a serious downturn. Elexa was younger than her husband, but both were well past the age when the body recovers easily.
    King Tedric doubtless read more into Derian’s expression than into his polite words.
    “Elexa is doing well enough,” he said, “though we did have a scare a few weeks ago when we were both down ill. There’s no keeping rumors from spreading, not with as many servants as we have, but we’ve managed to keep the locals from thinking that it might be a good idea to lay in a few extra yards of fabric