Free The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) by Sharon Shinn Page B

to think twice before joining a rebellion.”
     
    “I think only one of Ariane’s sons is unmarried, and he’s almost ten years younger than Senneth.”
     
    Romar made a dismissive sound. “What does that matter when there’s a kingdom to secure? But if not Rappengrass, then Nocklyn, perhaps. I know that Els has only got the one child, a girl, but I think his brother was widowed a year or so ago. Senneth could marry there.”
     
    Kirra laughed. “Actually, I fear there is little chance Senneth will marry to oblige her king,” she said. “Regrettable but true. She’s found love in a less—conventional—place, and I doubt either Kiernan or Baryn will persuade her to give it up.”
     
    Romar looked instantly intrigued. “Really? A mésalliance? With whom? Kiernan must be beside himself.”
     
    “Kiernan lost all hope of influencing Senneth when he allowed their father to turn her out the door when she was seventeen,” Kirra said. “He’s lucky she’s willing to attempt reconciliation now.”
     
    “Yes, no doubt,” Romar said. “Who’s she lost her heart to?”
     
    Kirra bubbled with laughter. “A King’s Rider. Tayse. He rode with her to Brassenthwaite a couple of months ago and I’m dying to hear how the journey went.”
     
    Romar appeared to be completely dumbfounded. “Senneth Brassenthwaite in love with a King’s Rider ? Surely not. Never. I won’t believe it. There’s—there are standards to uphold, even among the most wayward of the serramarra. She can’t be considering marrying him, can she?”
     
    Kirra pulled her horse to a halt, and Romar, after continuing on for a few paces, reined back around to face her. She was suffused with fury. “You know, I hate the smug, suspicious, stupid aristocrats who believe an accident of birth makes them better than all of the ordinary people in the realm. I hate that sense of privilege and entitlement and outright arrogance that makes people like you believe someone else isn’t as good as you are, not fit to touch your hand, or—Bright Lady forbid it!—the hand of your wife or daughter or sister—”
     
    Romar, incredibly, was laughing. He flung up a hand to stem her tirade. “I was only joking,” he said. “I think it’s marvelous.”
     
    She was so angry that it took a moment for his words to register. “You’re so—What did you say? And it’s not funny. I don’t know why you’re laughing—”
     
    Ahead of her, she could see Justin had turned around to see what the holdup was, while Cammon was no doubt just a few yards behind and greatly entertained by what he could pick up of the argument. Kirra kneed her horse forward and battled back her rage.
     
    “I was joking,” Romar repeated. “I don’t feel that way at all. Frankly, I think the bloodlines could stand a little mixing up. Though, it’s true, it’s rare that a serramarra would mate with a soldier, even a high-ranking one, or someone else of a lower class—say, a household servant. In fact, the only instance I can recall is when Kallie Fortunalt ran off with her husband’s steward, and you know that affair didn’t end up so well.”
     
    Kirra took a couple of deep breaths to dispel the lingering effects of anger. In the calmest voice she could muster, she asked, “What happened to them? I was only seventeen when the story came down, and my stepmother wouldn’t tell us the details. And my father never bothered with gossip of that sort.”
     
    “Rayson won’t talk about it—she was his mother, you know. The story at the time was that Reynold hunted them down and had them killed. For the dishonor to the name. But I’ve always wondered about that. It’s just the story Reynold would have put out, even if he’d never been able to track them down. I like to think they escaped on one of the small ships you can always find in Forten City and took off for foreign lands, where they built themselves a small house and settled down to live happily for the rest of