A Flight of Ravens John Conroe (great books for teens txt) 📖

“You imagine me to be free of duty?” I asked, incredulous.

“Oh, don’t spout off about that duty to the crown nonsense… We all have that.  I’m talking about the bonds of family obligation that Father so neatly released you from,” he said, waving a hand as if to sweep away my life’s obligations as inconsequential.

“You only have a family to be obligated to because the Paul’s been kept from feeding this entire lot to his pets,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“Ouch. I think I fanned a coal,” he said with a languid smile.  “Enjoy the refreshments, Savid. I’ll make sure the servants keep your cup full.”  He moved off as if he were scraping me from his presence like horse dung from his shoes.  This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to come to this damned thing.

People nearby were staring at me, but they looked away when I looked back at them.  Then a commotion near the ballroom door captured everyone’s attention.  Brona had arrived, fashionably late as always.  She had explained the lateness to me once, long ago.  She’d said that royalty needed to arrive last to allow everyone else time to get to the gathering, gala, or party, as arriving after the crown was a grave breach of decorum.

She came through the door in a whirl of activity, shining in a white dress with dark blue accents that drew the eye and almost made you miss the tough Wenkroy warrior by her side and the small form of Rose, who wore a dark blue dress with white accents.  My first thought was that I had tried to protect Brona and ended up getting her an accessory for her wardrobe.  But I shook that thought as I watched how closely Rose was watching the people who approached Her Royal Highness.

First in line were my father and eldest brother.  Rucian said something that I couldn’t hear that made Brona’s smile tighten, even though he wore a smile of his own.  Even money that he had greeted her, complimented her looks, and then slid in a comment about Lady Dominick.

Beside my father, Gracid stiffened slightly, then waved his wife, Camella, over with the baby, Ircian, in her arms.  Bishop Miller trailed along behind her, as he had no doubt been going over her lines for the ceremony.  Camella was pretty and petite, but not the sharpest pin in the pack.  Her family were important traders in foodstuffs and spices but had fallen on bad times.  Father, sensing weakness, had arranged the marriage and thus gained control of their valuable networks and resources.

Brona exclaimed exuberantly over little Ircian, who I had to admit was kind of cute.  Must take after his mother.

Kiven Armstrong wasn’t far behind Bishop Miller in greeting the princess, and I saw Rose tighten up ever so slightly.

“Somehow, I think this is easier for me than you,” a familiar voice said next to me.

“Lord Sampson,” I greeted him. “I’m told that family can be rewarding… I’m just trying to figure out who is offering the rewards and how much they want for them.”

“Now, now, Savid. Surely not all of them are so onerous?” Lord Sampson admonished.

“Oh, no. My mother and Jolanna are treasures, but I wouldn’t turn down a little treasure for some of the others,” I said.

He happened to be taking a sip of red wine and almost choked on it.  I patted his back as he sputtered a bit, waving a hand at the few faces that turned our way in either concern or annoyance.

“You have your grandfather’s sense of humor,” he said when he had recovered.  By that, I knew he was referring to Lord Reis Leica, my mother’s father and not Lord Arcan DelaCrotia, my father’s father, now deceased.  Although it was said that Grandfather Arcan had possessed much more humor than his son.

“You know, I believe he must be around here somewhere, but I have yet to run into him,” I said, glancing around for my grandfather. When I turned back, I saw my mother and sister had joined the greeters of Her Royal Highness, who was already moving about the crowd.

“Oh, he is,” Lord Sampson said.  “He’s back in the corner by the wine pouring station.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” I said.  “He would probably offer a reward, himself.”

Lord Sampson laughed out loud just as the swirl of people that surrounded Brona arrived at our position.  “Ha, Lord Sampson,” the crown princess of Montshire said, all attention still on her even as her attention was now on us.  “I keep saying that Savid has a wicked sense of humor, but no one believes me.  It’s gratifying that you have provided a measure of support to my argument,” she said.

“Oh, Your Highness, people have no idea!” Lord Sampson said, gallantly kissing her hand. It was shocking, stunning the entire crowd to silence.  Once upon a time, people touched hands to greet one another, regularly.  And there was a time, long before that, at least according to the church, when some men kissed the backs of women’s hands.  The illnesses of the Punishment put an end to that. “Probably something about his dangerous appearance, but suffice it to say that I always seek him out at events such as this.  His outlook always brightens my own.”

“You know, Victor, I find him much the same,” Brona said, smiling brilliantly at the small lord who had just given her the highest token of honor and trust that could be bestowed: to kiss the hand of a person who was not family, not a lover.

The room had gone completely still, breathless, as the crown princess turned my way, her elegant eyebrow raised as if to ask how will you top that?

It was easy—and simultaneously went against everything I’ve ever been taught. I kissed her hand too, the same hand, on the same spot that he had.  I trust you, Princess, so implicitly that I trust whoever you