Fire - Kristin Cashore [67]
Fire stared in astonishment then at the tree beside the house, wondering how she’d failed to notice it from her window. She realised it was because she’d assumed from above that it was a grove of trees and never a single organism. Its mammoth trunk split off in six directions, the limbs so many and so massive that some of them bent with their weight down to the ground, burrowed into the grass, and rose up again to the sky. Supports had been built for some of the heaviest limbs to hold them up and prevent them from breaking.
Beside her, Garan watched the amazement on her face. Sighing, he walked to a bench beside the pathway to the house, where he sat with his eyes closed. Fire noticed his drawn face and his slumped posture. He looked washed out. She went and sat next to him.
‘Yes, it’s extraordinary,’ he said, opening his eyes. ‘It’s grown so big it’ll kill itself. Every father names his heirs. Surely you know that.’
Fire turned from the tree to glance at him, startled. Garan looked back at her coolly.
‘My father never named me,’ he said. ‘He named Nash, and Brigan. Brigan did differently. Hanna will be his first heir even after he marries and has an army of sons. Of course I never minded. I’ve never once wanted to be king.’
‘And of course,’ Fire said smoothly, ‘none of it will matter once the king and I marry and produce a jungle of monster heirs.’
He hadn’t been expecting that. He sat still for a moment, measuring, and then half smiled, despite himself, understanding that it was a joke. He changed the subject again. ‘And what have you been doing with yourself, Lady? You’ve been ten days at court with little but a fiddle to occupy you.’
‘And why should you care? Is there something you want me to do?’
‘I’ve no employment for you until you decide to help us.’
Help them - help this strange royal family. She found herself wishing that it weren’t so impossible. ‘You said you didn’t want me to help you.’
‘No, Lady, I said I was undecided. I remain undecided.’
The door of the green house swung open then and the lady with the chestnut hair walked down the path toward them. And suddenly the feeling of Garan’s mind changed to something lighter. He jumped up and went to the woman and reached for her hand. He walked her back to Fire, his face alight; and Fire understood that of course he’d steered their walk in this direction intentionally. She’d been too wrapped up in their conversation to notice.
‘Lady Fire,’ Garan said, ‘this is Sayre. Sayre has the misfortune of being Hanna’s history tutor.’
Sayre smiled up at Garan, a smile that had everything in the world to do with Garan, so that Fire couldn’t fail to understand what she was seeing. ‘It’s not so bad as all that,’ Sayre said. ‘She’s more than capable. It’s just she gets restless.’
Fire held out her hand. The two ladies greeted each other, Sayre exceedingly polite and ever so mildly jealous. Understandable. Fire would have to advise Garan not to cart lady monsters along on his trips to visit his sweetheart. Some of the smartest men had a hard time comprehending the obvious.
Then Sayre took her leave and Garan watched her go, rubbing his head absently and humming.
The son of a king and a woman who’s a palace tutor? Fire thought to him, propelled by some strange joy into cheekiness. Shocking.
Garan lowered his eyebrows and tried to look stern. ‘If you’re desperate for something to do, Lady, go to the nurseries and teach guarding against monster animals. Get the children on your side so Brigan’s daughter still has some teeth in her mouth next he sees her.’
Fire turned to go, a smile playing around her lips. ‘Thank you for walking with me, Lord Prince. I should tell you I’m difficult to deceive. You may not trust me, but I know you like me.’
And she told herself it was Garan’s regard that had buoyed her mood, and nothing to do with a woman whose significance had