Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [49]
He found the two princesses puzzling. Elis, the taller, had silvery-blond hair and light gray eyes; she sat erect, almost stiff, in a blue gown that lent only a little color to her eyes and none to her face. She spoke little to him, in a cool, remote tone, answering his first polite questions without enthusiasm and ignoring Sier Halveric to her right. Mostly she looked down or across at Ganlin. Her hands were larger than he expected; they looked strong and capable; he saw a mark on her heart-hand that might have been a training scar. He wondered what had made it.
Ganlin, another blond, had more color—hair more yellow, blue eyes, and more color in her face. More animation in her voice and face, too: Kieri noticed her smile for the man on her other side, Sier Belvarin. She answered Kieri’s questions with a smile. And yet—she looked most at Elis, as Elis looked most at her. And yet again, Ganlin’s hands looked like Elis’s—more the hands of a young woman trained to boys’ pursuits than the soft hands of an idle princess.
Kieri glanced down the table. Countess Settik, across the table and down eight places from Elis, was obviously trying to catch her eye and signal something. The man next to her, Sier Halveric’s eldest son-in-law, a man of phlegmatic temperament, already looked frayed, and Kieri was glad he hadn’t asked any of the younger men to sit there. Elis avoided her guardian’s gaze. Ganlin’s guardian—one of her aunts, he’d been told—was chatting with Garris, the King’s Squire next to her.
No, Kieri thought, nothing could make him marry a Pargunese. Yet courtesy demanded that he share his attention between the two girls. Perhaps if he got them talking more … “Do you know each other?” he asked. They locked gazes across the table at each other rather than at him. Both flushed a little; he had the sense that one wanted to nudge the other under the table, but it was too wide.
“Um … no, lord king,” Ganlin said, with Elis a beat behind with her. “We’ve met, lord king. That’s all.”
So both were prepared to lie; Kieri had not lived so long not to recognize the signs of a covert agreement of some kind. “Well,” he said, “perhaps you should become more acquainted. Pargun and Kostandan are, after all, neighbors.”
“My guardian wouldn’t—” “They don’t want—” came simultaneously from both girls.
Oho. Another complication. He could imagine that the guardians would have preferred to present only their own princess to avoid competition, but since they were both there, surely it was natural for girls that age to spend time together. He struggled to find some topic that might interest them, but he had no idea how princesses were reared, what they valued. Taking a cue from their hands, he said, “Do you like horses?”
A patch of color came out on Elis’s cheek. “Very much, lord king,” she said quietly. “I—I like to ride. Fast.”
“Then you should ride,” Kieri said, relieved to have found some common interest. “We have both an indoor school and the Royal Ride—a long stretch of grass through the forest. Perhaps if Ganlin—”
“I like to ride,” Ganlin said without his asking. “But—but more informally.”
Kieri felt his brows rise. “Informally?”
“My—my aunt thinks it improper to ride astride.”
“Does she indeed? Here, most women ride astride,” Kieri said.
“Really?” Elis’s voice rose; down the table, Kieri saw Countess Settik glare at her, and Elis looked down.
“My aunt says it’s not proper for a princess,” Ganlin said more quietly. “Certainly not while visiting … I used to …”
“We both did,” Elis said under her breath. She stabbed a medallion of venison with unnecessary force.
“Then consider that you are free to use the Royal Ride,” Kieri said, applying himself to his own meal. He glanced down the table to where Arian, just back from Riverwash, was listening to Count Settik of Pargun and Kaelith doing the same with Ganlin’s male escort—her uncle or uncle-in-law,