The Kingdom's Crown (Inheritance of Hunger #3) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,45
origins. And Camellia's for that matter.
My mother had mentioned a man's name once. Matthew…or, or…
My search stopped as I found a pair of eyes on mine. I couldn't tell their color from this far away, but I knew their narrow, angled shape, lids heavy and lashes thick.
Michael, I remembered suddenly. I recognized him, although not as well as some of my mother's other Chosen. He wasn't one she had constantly at her side. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if we'd ever spoken, ever even looked at one another this way. Aside from his eyes, a near-exact match to mine with deep crows feet at the corners, I didn't really see any other similarities. I had my mother's face and mouth and dark golden hair, Vincent's features really.
"Come," Wendell whispered, he and Aric ready to shepherd me out of the room.
I pulled myself out of my thoughts and away from my men, rushing back to my grandmother and pressing a long kiss to her clammy cheek. She nodded and waved me away with a roll of her eyes, but she was still struggling to breathe, so I didn't wait for her goodbye.
"Bryony love," my mother murmured, taking my hand as we left my grandmother's chamber together. Her skin was pale, smile not quite as easily full and beatific as usual, but she was recovering from my grandmother's fit quickly. "There is someone I thought I ought to introduce you to."
It was obvious immediately. The man I'd been studying smiled tightly and waited for us as the other Chosen pulled away, and my mother began to bounce on the balls of her feet.
"Your Highness," the man said with a respectful bow of his head. As my mother's Chosen, he wasn't quite my rank as princess, but he also didn't owe me the deference anyone else would.
"Bryony, this is my Chosen Michael. I know it's very silly and I really couldn't say one way or another, but I think there is a likeness, don't you?" she asked, but she was turned to him and not to me.
Michael's smile to my mother was fuller than the one he'd granted me, but I knew those eyes and I didn't think the warmth was reaching there.
"We really aren't supposed to make a fuss about this kind of thing, but I am so proud of you, Bryony. And I thought it might be nice for the two of you to speak," my mother said, teasingly bumping her hip against Michael's.
His eyes glanced in the direction of her other Chosen, and then he stepped and turned, so they could only see his back. His smile brightened then, one hand lifting my mother's knuckles to his lips as he mouthed 'thank you' and winked.
My mother blushed, and I recognized immediately that hazy happiness and tip of her chin right before she called a Chosen to her service. But this time, she shook herself and blinked, glancing at me.
"See Bryony back to her suite, Michael. And then come back to me immediately, won't you? I shall practice waiting," she said with a little conspiratorial laugh for me.
I grit my teeth and ignored the urge to wrinkle my nose as my mother bustled to her Chosen. Aric and Wendell stood at either side of me, Wendell's hand resting on my waist and Aric's cupped possessively around the back of my neck.
Michael's smile was benign, and he gestured for me to lead the way. I followed my mother out of my grandmother's suite at a slower pace, letting her hurry her Chosen back to their rooms until they were far enough ahead of us not to overhear. I turned to ask Michael some innocent question, what part of Kimmery he was from, or if he had any interests—outside of making love to my mother, of course—but he beat me to speaking.
"I've always wondered if you might've been mine," he said, still smiling, but I thought I knew the grimace of discomfort wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "We aren't supposed to… Well, a Chosen's duty is to his lady's pleasure."
Aric was practically simmering at my side as we walked, his finger's a comforting kind of pressure on my skin.
"But I…I've been hinting to your mother about you for a number of years," Michael said, his tone light, but his eyes making a constant study of our surroundings. "I'm not one of her favorites. I think Lady Amelia was more indispensable than I am. Of course, that was Lady Amelia's aim."