Flann sees ice in the rain
“Sister!”
Flann moaned.
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Britamund gives the most beautiful answer
Britamund turned her face into Dunstan’s collar and yawned. The poor darling was too tired even to lift her hand to her mouth. Dunstan rubbed her arm.
“Oh, Dunstan,” she whispered. “How can I yawn at a time like this?”
Cedric makes a promise
Cedric wished he had made more noise when he had climbed out of bed. He shuffled his bare feet and gave his arms a brisk rub against the cold, but Colban went on digging through his bag like a terrier in pursuit of a juicy rat, and the tall man beside him simply studied the silhouette of his hands before the fire. Cedric did not know whether he was being ignored or had simply gone unnoticed.
Malcolm learns the trick of bedtime tales
A moment ago Lasrua had clung to Malcolm with both hands. Now she could only find one.
“Daddy! I can’t feel my hand!”
“Hmm hmm…” Her father’s fluttering hand stroked her good arm from elbow to wrist and cradled her hand in his palm. “Can you feel this one?”
Malcolm pleads
Malcolm sprawled onto the floor, his skull still ringing from its whack against the mantel. Overhead a fight commenced without him: shouts and scuffling, a screech of table legs over wooden planks, a smash of shattered glass.
Malcolm asks and is answered
Alred lolled his head and massaged the back of his neck. “I beg your pardon if I seem to doubt your honor, sir, but recent events impel me to inquire: Did you truly surrender all your weapons at the gate?”
Malcolm wears the ghost of a band
Colban slowed to a creeping walk as he stepped out of the stairwell, preparing himself to press his back against the wall and listen. After a peek around the corner, however, he simply strode in. The Countess sat alone outside the chapel, and if the Countess was outside, it stood to reason that someone else was on the other side of the door.
Malcolm is welcomed like the seven plagues
“Garrie, isn’t it?”
That did it. The startled guard staggered back from the doorway he had been peeking around and thumped against the far wall.
“Aye, sir!” Garalt tugged his tunic straight and attempted to look like a man at his station.
Saeward unlocks an empty room
This was how his dreams fell apart. A snap, and the languid procession of memories scattered like amber beads come unstrung, upending the pristine dioramas of family life englobed within.
Donnchad feels an unfamiliar ache
She was not dead, but sleeping. Donnchad wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged gently in time with the rise and fall of her breath, seeking to ease out one of the fists she clenched beneath her chin. He wanted his sister to awake with her hand clasped in a loving hand.
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“You have been nothing but a scoundrel from the day you were born.”
“And I have loved you since the day you were – my lord’s son, and then my lord, and then my son.”
“Damn you.”
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