The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,1

of warlike kings that flowed in her veins.

Then a trumpet blasted, and he was jerked out of his reverie. He needed a drink. And to find that rat Fulcher before he started spending their winnings.

*

“A pity, a great pity,” Wymer tutted as he sat back in his gilded seat. “If only De Bussell could conquer this wild inconsistency in his performance, he could be a fine champion one day.”

Queen Armenal, sat at the King’s left, did not bother responding, so Una sat on a seat behind the two of them, leaned forward to give a murmur of agreement to her royal cousin.

“He looks a fine figure of a man, cousin,” she commented in her most colorless tone. She did not lie, for not only was De Bussell’s build athletic and muscular, his tanned face was also undeniably handsome. He looked the very image of knightly prowess, and it was a sad fact of life that appearances could often be deceptive.

Wymer gave a bark of a laugh. “You’ll catch cold looking in that quarter. His family has been loyal to the Argent throne for centuries,” he said, jutting out his chin.

Which meant they have also been an enemy of mine, thought Una. Wymer never failed to rub such things in her face where he could. If only he knew how much she loathed any loyalty to her own family’s cause, she thought with wry amusement. Northern followers were the bane of her existence. Their insistence that she was the true ruler of all Karadok had nearly sent her to the executioner’s block on several occasions over the years.

Would her royal cousin, as she was now bid to call him, ever forgive her for existing? She had such hopes for reconciliation when she had first come to court eighteen months ago. But now, her only wish was to marry some obscure knight and be allowed to sink into obscurity, tucked away in some remote spot where she could at last be free of her bloody heritage.

She felt her stomach lurch as the next two combatants took to the field. Surely, that was Otho. What on earth was Otho doing here? And why, oh why, would one of her own half-brothers be fighting in a contest to find her a bridegroom? It made no sense! Craning her ears, she made out the name the herald announced: Sir Bavistock of Leigh. Una’s heart sank, he was fighting under a false name. What on earth was she going to do if he made it through to the final? Could she really denounce Otho, the only one of her father’s numerous bastards, who she actually held some affection for? She certainly could not marry her own brother!

“Never heard of this pair,” Wymer muttered irritably, jerking her out of her thoughts. “Northerners?”

Una hesitated. “I do not know them, cousin,” she answered and wondered if she was, once again, setting her head on the axman’s block with this lie. Would it never end?

Wymer waved a hand and a servant darted forward. “Fetch me Vawdrey,” he said plaintively, asking for his chief advisor.

Una’s heart sank. Most people knew Earl Vawdrey was also His Majesty’s spymaster. She felt a good deal of anxiety whenever she caught sight of his tall, elegant figure about court, dressed head to toe in unrelenting black. What if he recognized Otho as one of her half-blood siblings? She wouldn’t put such knowledge past him. He knew so many unexpected things, that people sometimes whispered he was in league with imps and demons. Not that Una believed in such things. She was all too aware of the horrors men were capable of, to start inventing ghouls and beasties to account for them.

“Can you not go one morning without consulting Vawdrey?” Queen Armenal sniped with a roll of her eyes.

“Why should I?” Wymer asked shortly. “Besides, he organized this May Day debacle.” He shifted restlessly in his seat. “It’s an insult having this damned bunch of no-names competing!”

“You’re just cross because De Bussell went crashing out,” Armenal said with a tinkling laugh. “All because he looks exactly to you as a knight should. Did you wager on his winning?” She sighed. “You never learn! Just because he looks the part, you’re determined to back him, despite all evidence to the contrary.”

Wymer’s glower increased and Una guessed the Queen had guessed right about the wager. A footfall behind them had Wymer swiveling around in his seat. “There you are, Vawdrey!” the King cried out as Earl Vawdrey appeared