“That certainly helps paint a picture for me. Besides hunting, what are her interests? Does she like poetry? Can she draw? What about needlepoint?”
“Heavens, no.”
“Okay. And other than her… height, does she have any noticeable personal attributes I should be made aware of before I make my decision?”
By the nine circles, Brandth was about to make a decision. Levi’s life hung in the balance. “Listen, you will never find a fairer, more capable, intelligent, funny candidate than Alia. Not just a good leader, but a protector, a defender. She would never ask more of others than she demands from herself. Alia would be a breath of fresh air at your stodgy Palace.”
“The Royals are not typically big advocates of fresh air, they like tradition and no surprises.”
“The Vallas Realm, no, the Prince, would be lucky to have her take on the role of Queen one day.”
“She sounds quite the unique marvel… but Gloomenthrall is a long way from Pallene and the Golden Palace. The aristos can be quite judgemental of anyone they deem different. Not to mention the King and Queen have very high standards when it comes to the choice of a future daughter-in-law. Further, there is our beyond picky Prince to consider. I just do not think-”
“Please.” Perri interrupted, she couldn’t bear to hear the word no. “If no previous candidate has been deemed suitable, perhaps the fault lays with the similarity of the candidates. If they’re all pretty, modest, pleasant and good painters, what makes any of them stand out? I’m not saying Alia will be the Prince’s choice by any measure, but perhaps by showing him such a sharp contrast, one of the other candidates may shine in comparison.”
“You have many pretty, modest, pleasant female kin, some of whom are a dab hand with a brush. Why not push them forward as a candidate? Or yourself for that matter? You sound about the right age. You’re graceful. And I heard you close up that stable hand’s leg wound the other day, so I can’t fault your needlework. Ditch the scarf, and grab a pretty gown, you could be a candidate.”
Her? Her? Perri couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “Never, I would loathe the attention. No, I shall be very content with my role as chaperone.”
“You would accompany Alia to Court if she was chosen as a candidate?”
There was something in Brandth’s tone. And the twinkle in his decadent golden brown eyes brightened. Perri badly wanted to know what he was thinking at that precise moment but kept her questions to herself. She had stated her case. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no, either.
“Tell you what.” She stood, surprised to note that she had to disentangle her hand from his. How long had they been holding hands? Heavens, that was potentially embarrassing, thankfully her veil hid the blush that stole into her cheeks. “Why don’t you sleep on your decision. There’s no need to rush.”
“Except for the fact that if we wish to make the first day of end of summer festivities, then we would have to leave the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Perri hadn’t considered that.
“And then there are my injuries to consider. Will Master Healer Mary sign off on such a long journey, given my recent fever and the state of my leg?”
Gods, Perri would carry the man on her back if it meant getting them to Pallene and invited to the same aristo parties as Regal and Levi. “You just rest. Think on what I said. I’ll take care of everything in regards to getting you ready to travel.”
“That is most… kind of you.”
Damn, had she overplayed her hand? She sent up a quick pleading prayer. Watching as Brandth’s eyelids grew heavy, the nightly elixir finally kicking in. She had done her best. Stated their case. Now all Perri could do is pray that Brandth would make the right decision. Was there anything else she could have done? Maybe introduce him to Alia? No, that sounded like a recipe for disaster. Alia was nothing but blunt. Yes, she could just imagine her sister snapping at the first personal question, proceeding instead to hold a knife to Brandth’s throat and demanding he give her the invite.
Perri had sold the idea as best she could. She had little choice but to play up Alia’s sharp differences than the normally chosen candidates. A babe in arms could see Alia was no pretty sweet maiden who dabbled in watercolours and simpered over poetry.
Brandth had yet to say no outright, but she sensed his hesitation.
Perhaps Perri could somehow place obstacles in his way to slow his healing, or delay his release from the hospice. Then she and Alia could race on ahead to the Golden Palace… by the nine circles, what was she thinking? Not only would that be unethical, but Brandth and his master spy entourage would eventually catch up. Having them point an accusing finger and outing her and Alia as imposters would not help their cause.
No, all Perri could do was cross her fingers and hope. Brandth’s eyes lit up when he was up to mischief. She’d seen that as he poked at her earlier with all his never ending demands. Here’s hoping he would be willing to bring a little of that mayhem to the Golden Palace end of season festivities. Even if it was just to amuse himself.
Damn, now Perri was wondering if there was anyone at court with whom Brandth indulged in a little one on one mayhem. Not that it was any of her concern… but she couldn’t help but idly picture what such a woman would be like. Probably flawlessly beautiful for a start. Someone Perri didn’t have a hope of competing with… competing? For Brandth? Heavens, no, she had learned her lesson well. Never again would she be bamboozled by a pretty face, and glib poetic words.
Besides, she had no need of a man in her life, but if she did, no doubt he would be plain, sturdy, dependable, and gruffly sincere with the sparse words he did issue.
Yes, when she was Mary’s age, and the cold began to seep into her bones, Perri was reasonably sure she would be ready to seek out such a man for… companionship. Yet why did the idea of that suddenly sound boring beyond measure? Stress. It was the only answer. A nice calming cup of tea, that’s what Perri needed. Her gaze returning to Brandth, so handsome in repose, her fingers actively itching to brush away the hair teasing his closed lids. Gods, she needed that calming tea, and she needed it now. Perhaps the entire pot.
Chapter Sixteen
“Why do you look as if your favourite hound just died?” Talac queried, settling into the chair beside Brandth’s bed.
“Worse, I’ve just had a second pair of hunting boots destroyed, thanks to this Gods forsaken wooded hell.” Brandth knew he shouldn’t pout, but the sight of his friend looking tanned, relaxed, and walking on two solid dependable pain-free legs irritated him beyond measure.
“A second pair of boots?”
