Elegy for a Lost Star by Elizabeth Haydon Read Free Book Online Page B

family’s home since the death three years prior of his father, Stephen Navarne, who had been Ashe’s childhood friend. Their presence was the only thing that had made living in Haguefort tolerable; otherwise the memories would have been too strong to bear. Even though he had been a young boy, and Melisande an infant, when their mother was murdered on the road to town, he still remembered her, and missed her when the night winds shrieked and howled around the castle parapets, or on warm, windy days, like the ones on which he and his mother had flown kites together. And the loss of his father in battle, before his eyes, had dealt a death blow to his optimism. Though he knew he would always carry the weight of these tragedies, the load seemed lighter when shared with people who loved him, and who had loved his father.
    â€œWe also think it would be a good idea for Melisande to come with us for the time being, and live at the new palace,” Ashe continued.
    â€œMelly? But not me?”
    â€œRight. We will get to that in a moment.”
    Gwydion nodded numbly, his every nerve screaming inside.
They
are
sending me away
, he thought, his mind reeling at the thought.
    â€œSecond,” Ashe continued, oblivious of his consternation, “Rhapsody and I would like to reinstitute the winter carnival this year.”
    Gwydion’s nausea grew exponentially. The winter carnival had long been a family tradition at Haguefort, something his father had relished hosting, on the days that spanned the winter solstice. Each year a great festivalwas undertaken, coinciding with holy days in both the Patriarchal religion of Sepulvarta and the order of the Filids, the nature priests of the Circle in Gwynwood, the two faiths of the continent. The festival lasted for three days, marked with games of winter sport, feasting, singing contests, minstrelsy, and dozens of other forms of merrymaking.
    The last of the carnivals had taken place four years before and had turned into a bloodbath. The horror of it was still raw in Gwydion’s mind.
    â€œWhy?” he asked, unable to contain his revulsion.
    â€œBecause it is time to get back to the business of living,” Rhapsody said gently. “Your father loved that celebration, and understood how important it was to the folk of his province, and in fact all of Roland. It is the one time of year that the adherents of the religion of Sepulvarta and that of Gwynwood convene for a happy purpose; that is critical to advancing understanding between both sects. And besides, we have an announcement to make; that seems like the best place to make it.”
    â€œWhat announcement?”
    â€œThird,” Ashe said, “we have decided, after deep discussion and consultation with a few of our most trusted advisors, that you are ready to take on the full mantle of your inheritance, as duke of Navarne.”
    Gwydion stared at his guardians in silence.
    â€œThat is why we are offering to take Melisande with us,” Rhapsody said quickly. “Once you take on the responsibility of the duchy, there will be much for you to accustom yourself to, and caring for your sister, as much as we know you are willing to do it, should not be a distraction to you. Our new home is less than a day’s journey on horseback anyway; she can come and see you whenever either of you wish.”
    Ashe came over to the young man and stood in front of him, looking down gravely into his eyes.
    â€œYour seventeenth birthday is the last day of autumn,” he said seriously. “You have more than proven yourself worthy of being fully invested as duke; you are both brave and wise beyond your years. This is not a gift, Gwydion; it is both your birthright and a title you have earned. I need you as a full member of my council, and Navarne needs a duke who looks out for its interests as his main concern. Anborn believes you to be ready, and that is high praise indeed. My uncle is not the quickest to