waved and headed off into town.
“The Death Dealer,” Hoburn mused.
Broyles looked over at him, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you start spreading falsehoods in this town, Hoburn.”
Hoburn shook his head. “I’d not dream of it. But if one of the maids up at the castle hears what that messenger says, it’ll be all over town in no time.”
Grace turned away to watch the sailors as they resumed unloading the ship. They’d stopped to gawk as Donald recounted news from Glenbard. They all would have heard it already, but were probably interested in seeing how folk elsewhere reacted. Grace turned her expression neutral as she pondered the news.
~*~*~
The sun was setting and the sky was on fire with streaks of orange, red, and pink. Grace stamped her feet, trying to get warmth back into them. She’d just gotten off duty and Donald was late coming in from town. George had invited Donald to the castle to say hello before dinner, and then Grace and Donald planned to head to Cassandra’s to enjoy their own meal.
From the gate, Grace caught sight of Donald sauntering up the road. He’d wrapped a cloak around his shoulders.
“Did the cold finally get to you?” Grace asked when he came up next to her.
“After so long on the islands, I forgot how frigid the air is up here.”
“Well, George has a fire in the private dining room, so it will be plenty warm up there.”
Grace led the way into the castle, taking the same route she took that morning as she led Deidre back to her chambers. She and Donald exchanged polite gossip on the way, although they both knew there would be time to discuss more serious matters later.
Leon, Calvin, and George were in the family’s private dining hall when Grace and Donald were shown in. They sat at a long oak table that had seating enough for ten. George sat at the head, Leon to his right, and Calvin to his left. The servants had already brought up the first course, a weak soup. The soup was little more than broth, and the chicken that would be served next was mostly bone. All the good stores were saved for the wedding. However, as promised, a fire roared in the fireplace. A shield painted with the crest of Arganis hung over the fireplace with a portrait of Grace’s grandfather next to it.
Donald and Grace bowed upon entering, though George was the only one to stand to greet them. “Donald, how fine it is to see you looking well.”
When Grace first returned from Glenbard, she wasn’t sure in what mood she’d find her uncles. Leon put her in the guard immediately, whereas George smiled, patted her hand, and told her to mind her manners. Neither one seemed inclined to bring up what happened at the king’s tournament. It seemed the same held true for Donald.
George crossed the dining room to shake Donald’s hand and pat his shoulder. Leon slowly rose from his seat and put his right hand to his heart, inclining his head slightly. Only Calvin remained stone-faced in his seat, eyes focused on his broth.
“My lords, I am glad to be home.” Donald returned the gesture to Leon.
George beckoned Donald and Grace to come closer to the table. “Should I have the maids bring something up for you?” he asked, settling back into his seat as Leon did the same.
“Please, don’t bother anyone, my lord,” Donald said. “We are going to Cassandra’s; I just wanted to make my presence known and to wish you well in person. You have, after all, been very good to my family.”
“It is good to see you,” Leon
“The Death Dealer,” Hoburn mused.
Broyles looked over at him, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you start spreading falsehoods in this town, Hoburn.”
Hoburn shook his head. “I’d not dream of it. But if one of the maids up at the castle hears what that messenger says, it’ll be all over town in no time.”
Grace turned away to watch the sailors as they resumed unloading the ship. They’d stopped to gawk as Donald recounted news from Glenbard. They all would have heard it already, but were probably interested in seeing how folk elsewhere reacted. Grace turned her expression neutral as she pondered the news.
~*~*~
The sun was setting and the sky was on fire with streaks of orange, red, and pink. Grace stamped her feet, trying to get warmth back into them. She’d just gotten off duty and Donald was late coming in from town. George had invited Donald to the castle to say hello before dinner, and then Grace and Donald planned to head to Cassandra’s to enjoy their own meal.
From the gate, Grace caught sight of Donald sauntering up the road. He’d wrapped a cloak around his shoulders.
“Did the cold finally get to you?” Grace asked when he came up next to her.
“After so long on the islands, I forgot how frigid the air is up here.”
“Well, George has a fire in the private dining room, so it will be plenty warm up there.”
Grace led the way into the castle, taking the same route she took that morning as she led Deidre back to her chambers. She and Donald exchanged polite gossip on the way, although they both knew there would be time to discuss more serious matters later.
Leon, Calvin, and George were in the family’s private dining hall when Grace and Donald were shown in. They sat at a long oak table that had seating enough for ten. George sat at the head, Leon to his right, and Calvin to his left. The servants had already brought up the first course, a weak soup. The soup was little more than broth, and the chicken that would be served next was mostly bone. All the good stores were saved for the wedding. However, as promised, a fire roared in the fireplace. A shield painted with the crest of Arganis hung over the fireplace with a portrait of Grace’s grandfather next to it.
Donald and Grace bowed upon entering, though George was the only one to stand to greet them. “Donald, how fine it is to see you looking well.”
When Grace first returned from Glenbard, she wasn’t sure in what mood she’d find her uncles. Leon put her in the guard immediately, whereas George smiled, patted her hand, and told her to mind her manners. Neither one seemed inclined to bring up what happened at the king’s tournament. It seemed the same held true for Donald.
George crossed the dining room to shake Donald’s hand and pat his shoulder. Leon slowly rose from his seat and put his right hand to his heart, inclining his head slightly. Only Calvin remained stone-faced in his seat, eyes focused on his broth.
“My lords, I am glad to be home.” Donald returned the gesture to Leon.
George beckoned Donald and Grace to come closer to the table. “Should I have the maids bring something up for you?” he asked, settling back into his seat as Leon did the same.
“Please, don’t bother anyone, my lord,” Donald said. “We are going to Cassandra’s; I just wanted to make my presence known and to wish you well in person. You have, after all, been very good to my family.”
“It is good to see you,” Leon
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