Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 41 - Chapitre 45

Breakfast at the royal table was always quiet, but this morning the silence had teeth.Pale morning light entered through the tall windows of the morning room, falling across the white linen and the polished silver. A long table stood in the centre of the room, laid with warm bread, fresh butter, sliced fruit, and a bowl of apricots that nobody had touched. The smell of baked bread and black tea filled the air, yet there was something uncomfortable about the room, something that made even the smallest sound seem louder than it ought to be.King Adrian sat at the head of the table with a letter in one hand and a cup of black tea in the other. His eyes moved across the page, his expression giving away nothing of what he read. He had been that way since he arrived, paying little attention to anyone beyond the words in front of him.Queen Margaret sat at his right, upright and composed. Her hair had been pinned into a perfect coil, and a delicate necklace rested against the high neckline

The queen had rehearsed her speech for an hour, and in the end only one question came out."Has your father told you anything?"Margaret asked quietly, one hand resting on the back of her chair. The fire crackled behind her. Across the room, Jade stood near the door in her grey night robe, holding her left wrist against her side."About the envoys?" Jade said. "No, Mother. I heard it when you did. At the table.""Yes." Margaret's eyes moved to Jade's hand and the faint smudge of rust on her fingertips. She looked at it briefly before turning away. "No. Of course you did."She crossed to the table, picked up the teapot and set it down again without pouring."The courts of the east do not send three envoys for a courtesy," she said. "They do not cross a sea for a courtesy. When they come, they will ask for you. They will ask to be seen with you, and to hear you speak, and to measure you." She paused. "You will say as little as you can. You will smile. You will not agree to anything, no

By the third night, Soren had stopped pretending he wasn't waiting.The new moon had put out every light but the lamp in the cellar. It hung from its hook and burned low, its flame bending whenever a draught came down the stairs. The pallets lay in their rows; four of them were still empty, and a folded coat sat on the end of the nearest one.Soren had not slept a bit , he had changed his shirt and scrubbed the brown stain from his cuff, but he still could not settle. He had spent most of the night at the table of crates, writing on a scrap of paper and crossing out every line. Boots sounded on the stairs making Soren look up quickly.It was only Tobin. He came down slowly, wet to the knees, with his hood still up and mud covering both boots. He stopped at the bottom step and pushed it back."Nothing?" Soren said."His lodging's empty." Tobin wiped his palms down his coat. "I went at midday, and again at dusk. The landlady says he came in four nights ago, wet through, and went straigh