Chapter 6
That evening, as Neeve and I entered the tall-ceilinged dining room, an air of suppressed grimness greeted us. A handful of the king’s advisors stood in a clump by the doorway, and Jarl Eiric was speaking in low tones to Kian in the far corner.
“What is it?” I whispered to Neeve, but she shook her head, clearly as uninformed as I.
Then Lord Raine strode in, my mother at his side, and we dipped into our formal curtseys of greeting. Neeve’s not so low as mine, of course, as she was the king’s daughter by blood.
The king paused before us. I shot him an apprehensive look as I rose, but his attention was focused on Neeve.
“We had hoped to celebrate this meal by marking your birthday,” he said. “But unfortunately, an urgent matter has arisen. Know that we are thinking of you.”
He
