Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Father has no such issues. He has a bowl of stew in front of him, his second one, and he sips froth from his beer, his manners impeccable despite the sheer amount of food he can put away. Hawk eats just as much as my father, I realize, but Hawk eats nothing save vegetables and grains. My father, however, just likes to eat. And drink. And gamble. He spoons a chunk of meat and shakes his head at me. “Well?”
I glance up, feeling like a chastised child. “I’m sorry?”
“What were you thinking, daughter?”
Ah, yes. I was thinking that someone had to do something to save Honori Hold, but of course I can’t say that to my father. He’ll reach across this table and slap my mouth, and no one will stop him because he’s a holder. I toy with a chunk of carrot in my stew idly. “I thought I could help.”
“It’s lucky for you that we have Liatta to thank,” he grumbles, glancing up. “Ah. Here she comes now.”
The fair Liatta. I’ve never been in the same room as her, because mistresses and daughters don’t mix. We’re kept in very careful circles, and I’m supposed to pretend like I don’t know that my father has a mistress at court. That Liatta is so beautiful she’s slept with the king himself, and that she’s been my father’s paramour for a long while. I’ve never met her, but the woman who glides through the crowd of tables fits my expectations.
She’s beautiful, of course. Well dressed. And from the look in her eyes, sharp. I suppose you need to be all those things to survive at court, and Liatta thrives there. Her brocade dress is sumptuous, her neckline deep enough to show the swells of her breasts just above her tightly cinched corset, and she wears a fashionable little ruff around her neck in lieu of jewelry. Her hair is pulled into multiple knots atop her head, each one covered in a ruby-studded golden net. Her dark eyes are crafty as she flicks her bracelet-encrusted arm, indicating her servant should pull out her seat. The woman attending her does so, brushing off the wooden chair with a napkin and then wiping the table before Liatta sits down gracefully. She has to be at least ten years older than me, but you wouldn’t know it just from looking at her. Liatta makes me feel old and frumpy, with my dirty hair and a freshly cleaned (but extremely plain) dress that Gwenna brought when she’d heard I was going to be released.
“Lady Aspeth,” Liatta says in a rich, careful voice. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”
Is it? Because it feels awkward to me. I smile, but I genuinely don’t know what to do. Society says that I should ignore her, because she’s a courtesan. But then again, society also says I shouldn’t marry a Taurian. “My father tells me I should thank you,” I blurt, parroting his words. That seems safe. “Have you spoken to the king on my behalf?”
Liatta chuckles. “Not quite.” She nudges her servant, and the woman trots off to get her food and drink. “A great deal has been happening while you have been awaiting your trial.”
I’m puzzled, and I glance to my father.
“Your new husband, the Taurian…” Father pauses and gives me another disapproving look, as if he can’t let a moment pass without reminding me that he’s not happy about Hawk. “He sent a crow with a letter. Said you were in Vastwarren and needed the protection of the family name.”
My eyebrows go up. “He said that?”
Liatta shakes her head. “His missive was incoherent, actually. It was full of rambling about marriage and the guild and danger and magpies.”
“Ah.” He must have been totally lost in the Conquest Moon’s thrall, and yet he still knew to contact my father so Lord Honori could throw his weight around. “And after you received that, you contacted the king?”
They exchange a look. “We happened to be at court already, and I suggested to your father that we needed to reestablish business with the guild anyhow.”
So it wasn’t about me. Yet something about all of this isn’t making sense. “But there’s no money—”
Liatta clears her throat. Father just takes another bite of bread and chews, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with me.
I blink at the two of them, wondering what it is I’m missing.
“The queen is pregnant with her second child,” Liatta says delicately after a long pause. “They are hoping this one is a son.”
I wait for a further explanation, because I’m still not following. I take a bite of stew.
My father finally speaks up, seeing my confusion. “Liatta needs to leave court. So I married her.”
I choke on the stew, spewing it into my napkin. “You what?”
It’s commonly accepted that a nobleman will have relations with a courtesan, but marrying one…? Marrying one is about as likely as, well, a noble marrying a Taurian. Still, my father has always been such a stickler for propriety. He’s been seeing Liatta for a decade now and has never mentioned marrying her.