The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

its curved staircase, and its crystal
chandelier. The duke stopped to show Kansten the library filled with floor-to-ceiling
shelves before backtracking a bit and climbing a flight to reach the king’s
antechamber.
    Kansten’s
stomach had never felt so knotted. “What do I call him? What should I say?”
    Vane told
her not to worry, that the king would want her to address him by his name
rather than a title, and he knocked on the door. The king himself opened,
though Kansten didn’t realize he was the king. He didn’t look like any king; he
was dressed as her father would be to go to his smithy.
    Rexson
Phinnean was as tall as Vane, with the build of a man who had fewer than the
king’s almost fifty years behind him. His hair was blond and thinning, his
light eyes bright, and his posture was impeccable. He greeted the Duke of
Ingleton, who began, “This is….”
    “You’re
Kora’s daughter,” said the king. Kansten nodded, surprised, and Rexson Phinnean
shook her hand. “You have your mother’s nose.”
    Vane said,
“I told Kansten to call you by your name.”
    “What other
should she use? Please, come in.” The king led them into a cross between a luxurious
parlor and a spacious, orderly study. His desk was so organized it had no
clutter at all; Kansten assumed he used another room as his functional office,
and calmed herself by imagining that area as far from immaculate. The king and
his guests took seats in armchairs arranged about an empty hearth, and Rexson
Phinnean asked, “Your name is Kansten? I knew the woman who bore it first, and
she’d be honored to know you share it. I hope the Palace has met your
expectations.”
    “It’s
remarkable, Sir. I can’t believe I’m here. People in Traigland talk about the
Palace, and I’d read about its history, but to see it….”
    Rexson gave
a slight nod. “I’m not fond of the building, I have to say. Most people whose
opinion I value feel the same, so it’s nice to know you appreciate the place
for what it is. Vane told me you’d apprentice with Cline Dagner while you’re
here? In architecture?”
    Kansten admitted,
“I’m trying to feel more excited than nervous.”
    “You’ve no
reason to fret. Your mother could adapt to anything, and I imagine you’re very
much like her.” A light gleam came into the king’s eye. “Just try not to
outshine your master, if you don’t mind. He’s one of my more renowned subjects,
and his fame is very much an asset to my realm.”
    Kansten
laughed. “I don’t think you need to fear for him, Sir.”
    “Feel free
to call me Rexson, like Vane told you.” Kansten nodded, and the king went on,
“I have Dagner employed at the moment, if you didn’t know. My sons wanted a
vacation home in a more rural area. Well, the youngest did. Dagner’s designing
his cabin.”
    Vane told
Kansten, “I suggested Fontferry for the location.” The duke had spent his
childhood there, in the care of an innkeeper.
    “Fontferry
sounds lovely,” said Kansten. “Up north on the river, near the mountains. I
bet….”
    She got no
further. A sharp, insistent pounding on the door cut off her voice.
    Vane and
Rexson exchanged startled looks, and everyone rose as the king admitted a
soldier, one wearing a dirt-stained uniform. The newcomer looked to be the
king’s age, perhaps some years younger. His face had few lines, but his hair
was a brilliant shade of gray beneath his rimless cap. The man’s air was
powerful, his step strong, and Kansten almost thought she smelled impatience
reeking from his pores, but the odor that reached her was sweat. Dark circles
lined his eyes. He bowed to the king, while Vane said, “Gratton?”
    “Gratton,”
said Rexson, “what are you doing here? Have you come from Partsvale?”
    The soldier
affirmed, “Almost without sleeping. Killed two horses and had to change
uncounted more.” Then he noticed Vane. “It’s good Ingleton’s here. We’d have
had to send for him.”
    Vane asked,
“What