The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley Read Free Book Online

loss
    of her eyelashes just when she knew Perlith had decided to offer for her—which
    offer had then had to be put off till they were long enough again for her to look
    up at him through them. (She had actually been weak enough to wonder if Aerin
    was Gifted after all, her timing in this case being no less than diabolical.) But it
    had occurred to her lately that it would be a boon to find a way to keep Aerin out
    of the ceremony itself, without giving visible public offense (and since the surka
    hadn’t killed her off, which, to give Galanna what little credit she deserves, she
    had not been attempting). Galanna understood as well as Perlith did why Tor had
    been asked, and would stand as first companion; but Tor was reliable, for all his
    disgusting sympathy for his youngest cousin. He believed in his first sola’s place as
    Aerin had no reason to believe in her place as first sol; and Aerin, if dragooned
    into performing some ceremonial role, would by fair means or foul mess things
    up. Nothing was going to spoil Galanna’s wedding day. She and Aerin understood
    each other very well when Aerin, formal and smiling, offered her apologies and
    regrets, and Galanna, formal and smiling, accepted them.
    Tor had been busier since then, often away from the City, showing himself to
    the Hillfolk who came rarely or never to the City, that they might one and all know
    the face and voice of the man who would be their king someday; and it had also
    been soon after Tor’s coming of age that Aerin had eaten the surka. While it lay
    heavily on her she had not wished to see much of him even when he was at
    home, though he had come often to sit by her when she was too sick to protest
    and even, without her knowledge, put off one or two trips that he might stay near
    her. But as she got enough better to be surly about not being well, and as his
    absences of necessity increased, a barrier began to grow up between them, and
    they were no longer quite the friends they had once been. She missed him, for
    she had been accustomed to talking to him nearly every day, but she never said
    she missed him, and she told herself that it was as well, since the surka had
    proved Galanna three-quarters right about her, that the first sola not contaminate
    himself with her company too often. When she did see him, she was painstakingly
    bright and offhand.

    A few days after Talat had trotted halfway round his pasture with Aerin on his
    back, she asked Hornmar what had become of Talat’s tack. She knew that each of
    the court horses had its own, and Kethtaz would never be insulted by wearing bits
    of his predecessor’s gear; but she was afraid that Talat’s might have been
    destroyed when his leg had doomed him. Hornmar, who had seen Talat jogging
    around his field with Aerin at attention on his back, brought out saddle and girth
    and bridle, for while he had thought they would never be used again, he had not
    had the heart to get rid of them. If Aerin noticed that they appeared to have been
    freshly cleaned and oiled, she said nothing but “Thank you.” The same day that
    she carried Talat’s gear up to her room and hid it in her wardrobe (where Teka,
    finding it later, also found that it had left oil spots on Aerin’s best court dress), she saw from her window Tor riding in from one of his rounds of political visits; and
    she decided it was time to waylay him.
    “Aerin,” he said, and hugged her gladly. “I have not seen you in weeks. Have
    you your dress made yet for the wedding of the century? Who won, you or Teka?”
    She pulled a face. “Teka has won more ground than I, but I refused to wear it in
    yellow at all, so at least it’s going to be a sort of leaf green, and there’s less lace.
    It’s still quite awful.”
    Tor looked amused. When he looked amused she almost forgot she had
    decided that it was better that they weren’t such good friends any more. “Have
    supper with me,” he said. “I must have dinner in the hall—I