The Twelve Kingdoms by Jeffe Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page B

hilt, elaborate enough to be considered more decorative than defensive. In the banquet hall, Uorsin sat already at the High Table—nothing unusual there, as he often arrived early, which allowed the courtiers the opportunity to circle by, share a toast, and discuss in conversation matters not suitable for either informal or formal court. However—gratingly unusual—the Dasnarian captain also sat at the table.
    I made certain to give no sign that I’d taken note of it, as many sets of eyes scrutinized me to see if I would. The seating arrangement of the High Table echoed that of the throne room, with the King’s chair—the largest and heaviest—at the center. My chair had always been to his right, Salena’s long-abandoned chair to his left, with Andi’s after that and Amelia’s next to hers. When Ami married Hugh, a chair was added to her left. Now, though my seat remained empty for me, another chair had been added to the right of mine.
    Uorsin’s penchant for preserving empty seats for the missing members of the royal family had long caused logistical issues. The arrangement put Andi and Ami far out of speaking distance, even if the King didn’t attend. My mother’s empty chair felt like the bleeding hole of a wound that never healed over, and I secretly hated the sight of it. That distaste naturally extended itself to the spaces left by my sisters’ more recent absences.
    I thanked Danu for Uorsin’s odd habit this time. If the captain had been sitting in any of our chairs, I might have had to kill him on the spot.
    Instead, I managed to serenely make my way to my seat and did not even put a hand to my dagger when the Dasnarian captain stood and held the chair for me to sit. Uorsin, deep in conversation with Laurenne, the ambassador from Aerron, who stood on the other side of the table, her ancient face set in lines of disappointment, took no note. No one had assisted me in such a way that I could recall, though Hugh had unfailingly treated Amelia to the courtesy. I wondered if the Dasnarian would have done so had I not been wearing the gown.
    No sense tipping him off that he’d surprised me—several times now—so I thanked him, with a queenly nod that should have pleased Dafne, and sat.
    â€œWe have not been properly introduced, Your Highness,” the Dasnarian said, in that deep baritone. If a boulder could speak, it would sound thus. “I am Harlan, captain of the Vervaldr, at your service.”
    â€œVervaldr?”
    â€œIt translates roughly as ‘seawolves’ in your Common Tongue.”
    â€œNot a very believable creature.”
    He lifted a shoulder. “But a vivid image, Your Highness.”
    I accepted the goblet of wine from a server, using the moment it offered to order my mind on how to speak to this man. Uorsin clearly held him in high regard, so I could not be openly rude. Nothing, however, required me to be especially friendly. Particularly after the incident at the gates.
    â€œYour man challenged my right to enter Ordnung.”
    â€œAh.” His tone conveyed regret I doubted he felt. “My deepest apologies, Your Highness. We are still newcomers to your realm and you had not been in residence since we arrived. This afternoon you appeared somewhat unlike your formal portrait.”
    He said it with such blandness for the understatement, I nearly snorted. The paintings of my sisters and me had been done some years ago, and the artist had taken pains to exaggerate what little loveliness I possessed.
    â€œI shall have him apologize formally, Your Highness, and will personally ensure you are not insulted again.”
    â€œAddressing me as ‘Your Highness’ can become cumbersome. You may call me Princess Ursula.”
    â€œThe former has two fewer syllables than the latter.” His face did not move from its stern lines, but I received the distinct impression of amusement from him—along with