Free The Poison Throne by Celine Kiernan Page B

outside. At the sight of her, Razi’s mouth dropped open and Christopher pushed himself off the wall and stood looking at her with a puzzled little tilt of his head.
    Wynter put her hand up and nervously touched her hair. “Is it not all right?”
    Razi shook his head, then nodded, blinked and muttered something. Christopher ran his eyes down to her toes and back again and said, “You’ll do.”
    As the two men came into the room, Lorcan’s door opened and he surprised them all by stepping out fully dressed and ready to go. Razi made a move to approach him, his face questioning, but Lorcan stopped him with a hooded glare. Razi spread his hands in defeat and turned away.
    Lorcan started back at the sight of his daughter. Pausing in the middle of pulling on a suede glove, he took in her face, her hair, the dress.
    “Izzy…?” he whispered. Then his confusion cleared, and he smiled sadly. “Wynter,” he said.
    His lips are so pale , she thought, frightened.
    Then he smiled at her, his full, broad sunshine smile and she felt herself relax. It would be fine. Yes it would. Everything would be fine.

The Danger of Subtlety
    “C hristopher seems to think he’s coming to the banquet.” Wynter kept her voice low and her head turned towards Razi as they followed the crowd through the long corridors to the dining hall. Christopher was padding along behind them, discussing music with her father, who was a keen but atrocious flautist. Wynter didn’t want to cause him any offence and risk another prickly exchange. If he was of the belief that all and sundry could attend these things, it would be up to Razi diplomatically to set him straight.
    Razi bent his curly head to hers and, with an amused grin, whispered confidentially, “That’s because he is coming to the banquet.” He drew back to see her reaction, his eyes dancing. She tried not to show her amazement but couldn’t quite carry it off, and he chuckled in glee. “It really vexes the lords.”
    Wynter gasped. “Oh, Razi no ! Please don’t tell me he’s seated at the lords’ table! They’ll have him poisoned!”
    Razi made a little sign at his throat. “Don’t even joke, little sister. No, the last four nights he’s been seated at the commoners’ board. A great honour.”
    “A great honour,” she murmured, glancing back at the man in question. He was describing something to her father, waving his hands about without a trace of self-consciousness. Her father laughed at something the young man said. Christopher raised his eyebrows, pausing in mock offence and then continued whatever outlandish rubbish he was weaving. Wynter grimaced. “A great honour, indeed.”
    “He says it’s a royal pain in the arse,” said Razi with a sigh. “God, Wyn, I can’t help but agree. I hate all this, after so long free of it. Father…” he paused to nod at a passing courtier, bowed at a loitering knot of ladies and thought better of saying any more about the King.
    “You didn’t keep a court in the Moroccos, Razi?”
    Again, the generous smile, the rueful quirk of his mouth. “Much to mother’s distress, no, I did not.” He drifted away for a moment, to somewhere warm, somewhere scented with spices. His smile grew a little sad and he looked down at her. “I kept a home there, Wyn. It was lovely. That’s what I want in Padua. A proper home, with proper family and real friend… I want—”
    “We’re here, my Lord,” Lorcan broke in, coming up behind them and taking them both by surprise.
    “Ah.” Razi looked at the door that would lead them to the royal quarters, where only the royal family and its highest honoured companions would gather before a feast. Razi and Wynter’s father would have to break off from them here, so as to make their entrance with the royal party.
    Lorcan bent and kissed Wynter quickly on her cheek, squeezing her shoulder before ushering Razi through the door and then letting it swing shut behind them.
    Wynter looked at the closed door