Back to Chapter 15
Interested in keeping this going? Time to as for tribute to keep the Web Mistress in coffee and chocolate.
Ifahyd had never heard the Royal dining tent quiet as it just had become. Never. He turned and then stood, watching the visiting Royals come into the shade and towards him.
They were perfect. Lord Salam-Dir had chosen an outfit that showed his muscles off under the light cover of hair, the color making his Midland’s paleness under his brown hair more exotic than Ifahyd had seen in the man before. The Princess... She was wrapped from head to toe, the outer layer sheer and shimmering in the evening light, the most modest he had ever seen her. He could see glints of what was beneath, and she was walking carefully, daintily.
“Your Highness, My Lord. Please, sit.”
The low couch was cleared of everyone else. Ifahyd motioned to the couch and the two did not seem to look at each other or communicate, but they sat on either end. Obviously waiting for the Rosemond monarch to sit between them. Expecting him to sit between them.
King Ifahyd blinked and sat, not knowing which one to look at, to lean towards. Laun leaned forward, the sheer overtunic showing thru some of the skin that had been hidden before. She reached for a goblet and it was given to her, the hand being one of the Peaches in a servant’s outfit. Edgar reached and a plate of fruit was in his hand.
The conversation in the tent started to pick up, slowly. Most of the nobles and others were watching the center of the tent, watching the Royalty who were sitting together and only speaking to each other. Well, speaking would have been less obvious.
They had not discussed, but Laun and Edgar had lived with each other for so long that they knew each other. They knew subtleties of movement, of eyebrow and of breath. They knew there was danger around them, but that was not the mission for right then. They had been invited, as Lord and Lady Salam-Dir, to the couch of King Ifahyd Bedral, for his pleasure. »Read More