Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,20
and nodded his approval. “You’re quite fast, you know. I was surprised.”
“As are you. Sit.” Avian nodded to the small table set up under a brightly colored umbrella just in front of the forest. “Tell me how I ended up with you as my ‘guard’. Other than because my father is a paranoid fool.”
He sat in a comfortable chair and immediately women appeared with drinks for them. Mathieu thanked the women and looked at Avian. “Well, I was raised on the outskirts of the Hart Hills at an orphanage. I left recently and came here, got into trouble for hurting some officer or something, was brought before your father, and here we are.”
Avian stared at him; then she started to laugh. “That’s a horrible story. But you say my father hired you after you hurt his men…” She swirled her fruity drink around the sparkling glass. “Well isn’t that interesting? So, he tells his men that soon one of them will be selected to protect me. He’d choose Jaken, but that’s his personal guard. So, he starts having Jaken test the others. None show promise. Jaken sees you beat up some of his highly trained men. You, presumably, have no professional fighting experience and you’re able to take them down. He’s intrigued. He brings you before the king, thinking that while yes, you are now set for death row, you may be of some use to us. Maybe he thought you’d be another recruit to join the others. But Papa sees someone rogue, strong enough to hurt someone, yet deceptively…girly.”
“Okay, first off, I’m not girly, okay? Quit with that. I’m androgynous. Second, that sounds preposterous.” Mathieu rubbed his forehead. The concept of politics had never been something he grasped, and the female’s train of thought was not a locomotive he felt like following.
“Maybe it does to you now, but you stepped out of your orphanage and into the realm where the big kids play. Plotting, planning, and maniacal laughter are all requirements to play here. Especially with…well, never mind. How do you like the drink?” Avian said, crossing her legs at the knees. They looked at each other for a few seconds.
Mathieu sipped at the colored beverage. “It’s unique. Sweet, tangy…and kind of tart.” He took another drink, liking the way the flavors played across his palate.
She grinned like a cat. “How wonderfully astute of you. I wouldn’t have been satisfied with ‘good’ or anything so mundane. As I’m sure you’ve gathered, I don’t like plain or ordinary. I don’t accept anything less than interesting.” Her glass met the table as she reached for a small cookie.
“I’m beginning to notice.” He murmured under his breath.
Avian covered her mouth as she yawn, then rubbed her cheek. “Good. You pay attention. I like that. Tonight, we relax. Tomorrow, we set to work.” There was silence for a moment and then, “Do you own a suit?”
“No?” Mathieu answered in a confused tone.
“Damn. I feared that. Well, we’ll just have to get you one. Tonight, before you take me to retire, we’ll stop by my tailor and get him to take your measurements.” Her gaze swept across the lawn critically.
Mathieu looked around as well, trying to see whatever it was that she saw. “Um, okay…”
“It’s covered in your compensation for dealing with me, if you‘re worried.”
He folded his arms, an eyebrow raised. “It’s not that…I’m just not a suit kind of guy.”
“I don’t have a dress code, but sometimes you need a suit for…occasions.” Avian kicked her feet up onto a little snack table.
Mathieu fixed her with a look, face still tight with the expected trap that would spring around this concept. “’Occasions’?”
Her eyes sparkled with unspoken secrets. Something told Mathieu that he’d see that look a lot.
“Fine. I don’t know the way around the castle, so you’ll need to lead the way…” Mathieu set down his empty cup, tilting his head to look at the sky. It was tinged pink and blue, an amazing swirling of color. “You don’t dislike me, do you?”
“Not really. I think it’s annoying that Papa stuck me with someone I don’t know, but he could have done worse. Oh! A gift.” Avian reached into the pocket of her silk shirt, pulling out a delicate gold pocket watch with crystal inlay. “This is for you.”
With gentle hands, he reached out for the pocket watch, cradling it delicately. “It’s beautiful…”
Grinning, she surrendered the watch to him. “That’s my personal crest. Don’t lose it. It’s only on loan so you aren’t