Free The Whisperer by Fiona McIntosh

you’ll have to ask her that. She may be thinking about a new gown for all you know.’
    ‘I’ll tell her you said that,’ Lute threatened. They both knew Queen Miralda, although renowned for her beauty, was far more likely to be thinking politics of the realm than shallow thoughts on fashion.
    Pilo sighed. ‘Prince Lute. There is nothing for you to worry about.’
    ‘I’m not worried. You are. And my mother is. The King doesn’t seem at all bothered, simply pleased that his brother is returned. Why do I sense that no-one else close to him feels the same way?’ He swallowed the remains of his fourth cake.
    ‘Well, perhaps you should search your own heart, Prince Lute. I didn’t notice you leaping out of your skin to reacquaint yourself with the Duke this morning.’
    Lute felt he had finally got to the bottom of what was troubling the normally unflappable Pilo. ‘I hardly know him,’ Lute said, defensive now but aware that his guide and mentor was the least chatty person in the palace and rarely wasted words. Everything Pilo said to him was usually for the benefit of teaching him and Lute sensed this occasion was no different. Pilo was being oblique, deliberately avoiding coming out and saying what was on his mind but clearly urging Lute to work it out for himself.
    Pilo turned from the cityscape at last and fixed Lute with a keen stare. ‘But you don’t like him.’
    Lute shrugged. ‘I didn’t say that.’ He couldn’t hold Pilo’s gaze and knew, by looking away, that he revealed his true thoughts to his companion.
    ‘You don’t have to,’ the man said gently. ‘But then, neither do I,’ he added.
    Lute looked up, surprised by the admission. ‘Can he sense my reluctance?’
    Pilo thought about this. ‘Possibly. But he doesn’t know you nearly as well as I do and you’ve conducted yourself impeccably this evening. Your parents will be proud. Have you finished? Any more and you’d surely burst.’
    ‘Actually there is something I wanted to discuss with you.’ He considered a fifth cake but decided four was enough.
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘I overheard some soldiers talking in the bailey as the Duke’s party was arriving. It was probably nothing—in fact, I likely misunderstood—’
    ‘Don’t justify it, Prince Lute, just tell me,’ Pilo suggested, closing the first of the doors to the balcony and checking the locks repeatedly.
    ‘I just caught a snatch of conversation—a comment, really…’
    Pilo turned. His close-cropped beard twitched as his mouth narrowed with irritation. ‘Spit it out.’
    Lute yawned helplessly. He was tired after his early adventure in the streets of Floris and now tonight’s big feast. ‘One of them said something about knowing that Janko disliked his brother.’
    ‘Is that so?’ Pilo didn’t seem surprised.
    ‘Yes, but watching my father and the Duke tonight you’d think they were the closest of friends.’
    ‘You would, wouldn’t you,’ Pilo said, his tone loaded with scepticism.
    Lute regarded Pilo. ‘You don’t trust him.’
    ‘It’s not my place to trust anyone, Prince Lute. I am yourguardian. And I would run a sword through anyone—Duke or otherwise—who might wish you harm. Hopefully he will hate the claustrophobic atmosphere of city life and he’ll be gone as fast as he’s arrived.’
    Lute nodded. ‘Let’s hope so, because he makes my mother act very strangely and I think my father feels obliged to overcompensate.’
    ‘King Rodin loves his brother. And we should not forget that Duke Janko is loyal to the realm. Without him we might well be bowing to a different king,’ Pilo said sagely.
    ‘And now you admire him,’ Lute said dismissively.
    ‘I admire what he’s achieved for Drestonia. I’m not so sure what he plans to achieve on this visit.’
    ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘Nothing specific. It’s my job to be suspicious of everyone…otherwise what’s the point in giving me the role of your champion?’
    Lute gave his companion a