Free The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) by Sharon Shinn

emerge before Amalie is on the throne.”
     
    Kirra dropped her hands to stare at him. “Change is at hand,” she repeated. “But why is everyone so certain that Baryn is ready to die? He’s only sixty-five.”
     
    “His father died before he was sixty,” Romar said gently. “As did his uncles and his grandfather. Trust Halchon Gisseltess to know that. He would be an unusual man of his line to live even another five years.”
     
    Kirra bit her lip. She hadn’t had that particular statistic; she wondered if Senneth knew it. She turned her head to look at Romar more closely. He was sitting next to her on the ground, so he sat in profile to her, the shape of his head illuminated by sunlight now for the first time since this journey had begun. He had pulled his matted hair back to tie it in a ponytail, so the angles of his cheeks were exposed; the stubbled line of his jaw seemed to set even as she watched. Not only a handsome face, but a strong one. No soft, indulged, pretty-boy lordling was Romar Brendyn of Merrenstow.
     
    “You have been given a hard task,” she commented in a low voice. “If Baryn dies, you will be the one to usher in a new era. With all these foes arrayed against you.”
     
    He smiled a little. “I will stand at Princess Amalie’s side as she ushers in that new era,” he corrected.
     
    “She’s a child.”
     
    “Eighteen now.”
     
    Kirra shook her head. “Eighteen is only seven years behind me, and I know that I would not even have been ready to rule Danalustrous at that time. I doubt I would be ready now. This burden will fall on you.”
     
    Romar stared before him a while longer, completely motionless, while Kirra watched him. Then he gave a small shrug. “If the king dies. If war comes. If diplomacy fails. We are not yet at a dire crossroads, though darkness looms in many directions. None of these terrible things may come to pass.”
     
    “Still,” she said. “You are a brave man to answer the king’s call for a regent.”
     
    He smiled. “Amalie is my sister’s daughter. I would protect her with my life even if the king had not given me such a charge. The rest of it, all the political maneuvering, that makes the job more challenging, I admit—but I would have had some part of the job regardless. I am just as happy that he has given me ultimate authority.”
     
    “He may have written your death warrant,” Kirra said.
     
    Romar laughed and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I will be more careful from now on. I will not be taken a second time.”
     
    Kirra fought back a yawn. “Well, if we want to make sure you are not taken again today, we must be on the move again soon,” she said. “Which means, first we must sleep.” She glanced around the camp, suddenly aware that she and Romar had been the only two conversing for quite some time. Cammon and Justin were asleep already, stretched out side by side on the ground. Donnal sat a few yards away, ears up, nose twitching, scenting the wind that blew in fitfully from the north. Guarding their back trail.
     
    “Donnal must have taken first watch,” Kirra said, a little unnerved that all this had been decided around her while she had been oblivious, deep in conversation with Romar. “I assume he knows when to wake Cammon or Justin. You and I should merely sleep.”
     
    Romar nodded. “I am too tired even to protest. Wake me when it is time to move on.”
     
    Kirra tried to smother a yawn and let herself fall back, right there on the ground, with nothing but a light cloak between her and the grass. “Someone will,” she said drowsily. “Sooner than you’d like.”
     

CHAPTER 5
     
    W HEN she woke, the warmth of Donnal’s body was at her back, but everyone else in camp was astir. The sun was high and remote; the cool spring air was sticky with humidity. She sat up and pushed her hair back over her shoulders, feeling irritable, dirty, and far from rested.
     
    “My clothes are damp,” she said with a