Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1) by Helen Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

meetings often degenerated into shouting matches, neither side willing to cede. Still, he was adamant that no one was to interfere with Alma’s right to choose.
     
    ***
    Later that evening, sitting in his private chambers, Thorion heard a soft knock at the door. He had dismissed his servant, wanting to have time alone; now he wondered who it was had come to disturb him. ‘Enter,’ he called softly, and the door slowly swung open to admit the graceful figure of Adara, still in her council robes. She carefully latched the door behind her before moving towards him, her steps light on the fine soft rug. The flickering firelight played on the sumptuous fabric of her gown and her delicate cheekbones. Rising from his chair Thorion kissed her in greeting. He offered her a seat before pouring her a drink from the silver flagon on the nearby table. Cool droplets misting the shining metal hinted at the rich wine within.
    ‘Welcome, my dear,’ he said, handing her the goblet. ‘It is a pleasure as always to see you.’
    ‘Thorion,’ she said, her musical voice low. ‘I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour.’
    ‘It is of no concern – I was still awake, as you can see,’ he said as he sat down, regarding her fondly. He could see, by the slight furrow in her brow, that something was on her mind, and as she sat down she sighed as though letting out a breath long held. They had been friends for many years, had shared many late nights talking and drinking, though it had gone no further. Sometimes Thorion wondered why; he also wondered if Adara thought the same. Smiling a little at the thought, the High King returned his focus to the woman sitting opposite, relaxed now in her velvet chair and sipping her wine appreciatively.
    ‘I can always trust you to have the finest vintage on hand, Thorion,’ she smiled, raising her goblet to him.
    ‘Well, what use is being High King if I cannot?’ He grinned at her, then his expression grew more serious. ‘But you did not come here to discuss wine with me, dear heart. What is it that troubles you?’
    Adara looked thoughtful for a moment. Shadows danced around the chamber, cast by fire and lanterns. ‘What was she like? I mean, was she…?’
    ‘She was very like him,’ Thorion said softly, his face half in shadow. ‘And her energy shone clear. If she chooses to help us, I think we will succeed.’
    Adara nodded, her face pensive in the golden firelight. ‘And if she chooses the Dark?’
    ‘Why would she do such a thing?’
    ‘Denoris is up to something, I know it. You saw him today, him and that cat Gwenene. I am worried they will try to take the girl.’
    ‘Oh, I think they have already tried,’ replied Thorion, seeing Adara’s golden eyes widen at his words. ‘But now that I have brought Alma to the attention of the Council and placed her under my protection, they cannot move against her without moving against me. They will not take that risk, even to get control of the Regalia.’
    ‘Then you know this is what they want?’
    ‘Of course, my dear. They have wanted it for years, for all their talk of co-operation. That’s why it is so important this is done properly.’ Thorion drained his goblet then refilled it, offering Adara the jug as well. She declined, which made him smile. ‘You would not have done so some years ago,’ he said, placing the jug back on the small wooden table. Adara laughed a little, tucking an errant curl behind one ear, her eyes bright.
    ‘Nor would I still, but I fear it will just make me sad.’ Her lovely face became contemplative as she looked at the High King. ‘I am not quite myself, Thorion. I can feel things starting to move – change is upon us, and I can only hope it is for good this time.’
    Thorion leaned forward, taking her hand in his own. ‘Linked as we are to the Balance, change is the only constant for us – you know this,’ he said. ‘Not until our souls travel to the Realms of Light will we know true peace, my