The Seascape Tattoo Read Online Free PDF

Already, my suitors will grow more insistent.” The princess scowled. “Since father’s death, Quillia is perceived as weak. My mother is not weak!” Her eyes flashed fire.
    â€œShe is the very strength of Quillia,” Neoloth said, attempting to sooth her.
    â€œMother adored Father,” she said. “Even though their marriage was one of state, there was great love between them. Tell me, wizard. Can your glass tell me if I will find the same?”
    Her smile was not cruel. There was, in truth, no spot of cruelty in her, although she had her mother’s strength. Yes, that was one of the paradoxes of power: to be able to do cruel, necessary things without poisoning your own heart.
    â€œI will look deeply, Princess,” he said.
    Suddenly she asked, “Can you see your own future?”
    â€œNo, Princess. It’s like trying to tickle yourself or see through a mirror.”
    She nodded. “They say that.”
    He stood by her side, watched the new sun play on the fine, strong cheekbones, the gentle curve of her lips. Her pale, lovely, intelligent eyes.
    He had sworn fealty to her mother, to the kingdom, and he would keep those oaths—for unexpected reasons. But it was a strange feeling, to be as bound as any of the slaves and servants scurrying in the streets below them.
    But then … the princess too was bound, by her obligations of birth. She might be traded to a handsome prince (oh, Nandians were usually blue-eyed and square-jawed, damn it) in exchange for improved trade relations or reciprocal defense treaties.
    On the other hand, her mother had been just as bound. And her father had been bound to ride into battle at the head of his army. Even protected by magical armor, in battle he had suffered the head wound that had eventually cost him his life.
    And the peasants were bound to each other. Everything bound together, the entire universe, and the wizard who had once thought himself special, unique, apart from the forces he had resolved to control … was just another human cog in the whole clockwork design.
    Was anyone, anywhere, really free?
    â€œIf I was free,” she said, as if reading his mind (and who was to say she could not?), “there might be different choices.”
    â€œBut you are not,” he said. “And we all have our obligations, Princess.”
    She gazed out at the kingdom below her, the morning sun playing on her jawline. What was it, when you began to think of someone in terms of separate body parts? The swift intake of breath, the sway of a hip beneath silk …
    He shuddered. Neoloth … you’re in trouble .
    â€œIf you could make your own choice?” She turned and gazed at him, eyes steady but lashes fluttering.
    Yes, she was about to say it, the words trembled at her lips …
    Then Drasilljah, her maid in waiting, stepped onto the porch. An older woman of Celtic extraction, her red hair faded with gray. Drasilljah had the mark of a magic user about her, even if she had never displayed such skills in his presence. Retainer? Mentor? Bodyguard was more like it, and her attitude toward Neoloth reeked of suspicion.
    â€œMy lady,” Draz said. She was tall and almost elementally thin, as if there was nothing of her but bones and magic. “You must make choices for the presentation gown.”
    The princess sighed, as if a spell had broken. She smiled at Neoloth and touched his hand. “We will speak again when I return.”
    â€œEver at your service, m’lady,” he said, inclining his head as she walked past him and out.
    Neoloth stood on the balcony for a time, staring toward the east, across the roofs and gardens. The kingdom. It would belong to whoever married the princess, the sole heir. Why not him?
    Magic had kept him looking forty for, oh, almost thirty years. He had served the kingdom well …
    But that wasn’t enough, and he knew it. The princess was both amused and