Karigan could have jumped up and down and yelled in victory at the darkening expression on Celesta’s face. She was fuming so much, Karigan envisioned black smoke roiling out her ears.
After Celesta exited and the door shut after her, King Zachary said, “I trust this is a merchanting issue you wish to bring up?”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Is there some feud between your clans? If so, you know I cannot show favoritism, and you must not use your access to me for your clan’s profit.”
Karigan was disappointed he thought she would misuse her position in such a way. “I admit there is little love between Suttley and G’ladheon. I also admit I am interested in the well being of my clan, and at this moment I am taking advantage of my access to you.” When he did not comment, she took a deep breath and continued. “However, this proposal of Clan Suttley’s would not only endanger my clan’s ability to contribute to commerce in Sacoridia, but every textile merchant in the country. It would have widespread effects across the provinces, and here’s why.”
The king listened intently as she explained, and when she finished, he rubbed his chin. “Truth be told, I had never heard much of Bioordi before today, but you have quite enlightened me, and I will now pay closer attention to trade in Huradesh. I am wary of granting exclusive rights in any case, and your words have sealed it.”
Suddenly he smiled and it was like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “I am very pleased with your intervention in the matter. Never hesitate to speak up if you have advice that may guide me.”
Karigan’s mind was awhirl from the trust implied by his words.
Old Brexley, tired of being ignored, let out a long whining yawn, and nudged her leg with his nose. She bent to pat him.
“Seems the old boy has taken a liking to you,” the king said with a laugh. “He’s a choosy bugger, but he’s got good taste.”
Karigan’s hand froze atop Old Brexley’s head. The king had caught her off guard and she dared not speak or move, or even breathe at all, lest she spill out something of her true feelings. Maybe his words meant nothing at all, then again . . .
The moment of danger passed as the king shifted in his chair. He seemed to sink into himself. “I appreciate your counsel, and it reminds me of why I miss Laren.” He paused, and added almost as an afterthought, “She won’t talk to me, plead as I might at her door.”
Karigan hadn’t known he’d done this, but it only served to elevate her regard of him even higher.
“Perhaps I’ll call upon you more often,” he said. His smile was genuine.
Karigan thought her own responsibilities heavy to bear with Captain Mapstone out of commission, but it was nothing compared to what the king must endure, and on his own. The captain had offered him support, as only a good friend could. The king’s responsibility was one of a country and a people, and the thought of it humbled Karigan.
A light tapping came on the door.
“Come,” the king said.
The chief administrator, Weldon Spurlock, entered. He bowed meekly. “I’ve some documents requiring your seal, Excellency.”
“One moment, please.” The king stood and picked up a handful of letters. He rounded the desk and handed them to Karigan. “Here are the messages I require to go out this afternoon. All but one are going to lord-governors. Urge your Riders to make all haste. The other is a less significant message to the mayor of Childrey.”
Karigan bowed. Before she could leave, the king placed his hand on her shoulder.
“You did well today,” he said, “and I look forward to hearing more of your input.”
His smile was warm, and his words soft. Or was Karigan’s mind wishfully playing it up? They gazed at one another for what must have been but mere seconds, yet seemed like much more. She didn’t want his hand to leave her shoulder.
Weldon Spurlock coughed, and Karigan stepped away from the king. With another bow, she dashed from the study and out into the garden, confusion and fear knotting her heart more than ever.
Outside the stable, Karigan watched Harry ride off on a long journey to Arey Province. She had sent off all the king’s messages, all but the letter to the mayor of Childrey, because there were no other Riders left to take it. The only Riders left in residence were her and Mara, and Ephram who had managed to break his ankle this morning on a loose floorboard in the stable.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. Here was her opportunity to escape the castle grounds, to flee all the responsibilities, the ghosts, and the problems that had been cropping up of late. She would carry on her duty as an ordinary Green Rider and return to the freedom of the road, with the wind in her hair and a fast horse beneath her. No doubt Condor would be just as eager as she to run.
She’d also escape proximity to the king, to ride away from the complex feelings he stirred in her.
“I don’t see any other choice,” Mara said glumly when Karigan caught up with her outside the castle entrance. “You’re up to this?”
Karigan flexed her arm. Where once this would have caused intense pain, there was now only the slightest twinge. “I’m more than ready.”
Mara sighed. “Rats. Wish you had said otherwise so I could take the message.”
“What? And leave me to the wolves?”
Mara smiled. “Have a good ride, and think of me in that meeting with the stablehands again.”
Humming, Karigan hurried back toward barracks to prepare for her message errand.