Page 39 of To Touch A Silent Fury

I scanned for the old man, and found him fast, for he walked towards me. I took him in, still in his grey robes even here, but he had taken the time to comb his hair at least. His fellow Threads were dismissive of him at best, and he read as a pure simpleton, with easy smiles and nothing to say.

He approached, and bobbed a bow. I returned it, and when our eyes met again, I saw something new there I hadn’t seen before. Wariness and cunning.

“Prince Langnathin,” he said. “May I speak with you?”

I smiled. “You are speaking with me now, Thread.”

He nodded. “Then, may I speak plain?”

Now, I was truly curious. I raised an eyebrow. “You may.”

“Do you intend to compete in tomorrow’s Games?”

I blinked. “Why do you ask?”

He had told me he would speak plain, and yet, I still expected him to talk around his thoughts more than he did.

Part of me had considered competing, if only to win and then reject the girl. That would be the easiest and most humane way to prevent her powers from growing, for the victor to refuse to marry her. But it was far too risky. The Sightlands were formidable and, as with every formidable dynasty, we had enemies. Enemies that would like nothing better than the chance to murder me in good faith at a sporting event. There were too many ‘accidents’ that could befall me. Father would kill me for even considering it.

The Brother studied my face with a candour usually only reserved for members of my own family. I felt embarrassed by his uncompromising stare, made to feel younger than my twenty-seven years. “Why do you evade the answer?”

I glanced then at the Moontouched girl as she placed her gold slipper-clad foot down onto the ballroom floor. I wondered if she knew how to dance.

No sooner had I thought it, than Brascillan blocked all view of her. He bowed before her, and outstretched his arm. Septillis frowned, and there was one of my questions answered. He was sweet on the girl after all. It was a shame for my cousin what her Fate had dealt her, for otherwise he might have claimed her for himself.

I returned my attention to the Thread. The intensity of his stare began to unnerve me. “I don’t intend to participate.”

He released a breath and nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Good,” he said, half to himself. “That is good.”

“And what if Ihadintended to compete?”

His watery white eyes creased at the corners, and he spread his palms. “I would have tried to dissuade you.”

He had intrigued me again.

“Why is that?”

He smiled, but it looked strained. “You know her Fate.”

Her Fate? To marry the victor of the Games? Yes, I knew it. Why would that make him dissuade me from competing? A Moontouched married to the future King of the Sightlands would be a feather in the cap of the Brotherhood. They could only wish for such an alliance. I bristled. “You would not want me as a suitor? The heir of the most powerful kingdom in all the near lands?”

His smile flickered more genuinely now. “It is not my wants that I am beholden to.”

Not his wants?

I glanced back at Tanidwen. She spun in Brascillan’s arms, her steps light and her arms shimmering in the candlelight of the room. A vision. I found myself wishing to be him, wondering how her waist might feel under my hand. I was nearly as jealous as Septillis. It must be a new form of madness, wanting to dance with a weird Brother of Eavenfold, simply because she was a girl.

“Do you mean you discourage my suit at her bidding?” I asked the Thread softly, as I kept my eyes on her mesmerising form.

“You do not wish to compete, so no discouragement is necessary.”

The answer was yes, then. Tanidwen wanted nothing to do with me. Beyond that, she had ordered her man to warn me off.

In my head, I heard Chaethor’s laugh. Of course, she would find this amusing, when I only found it confusing.I scanned back to our meeting. I had said nothing, done nothing, to cause her to dislike me so much. Nothing I could recall.

“What issue does she have with me?” I asked, posing the question half to myself.

“Most women would hesitate to marry a man,” the Thread began, and his frosty tone forced me to look at him once more. The amusement had been replaced by something far darker. “If he had hired another to end her life.”