Free The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare by April Leonie Lindevald Page A

point that would be carefree and secure and predictable. Jorelial Rey felt herself softening. She grasped her sister by the shoulders and turned her so they were face to face once more, “You really love him that much, Sweet Pea?” The expression on Delphine’s face told her all she needed to know. She scratched her head. “Well, alright. I need time to think – it’s still a bit of a shock, you know – but I suppose I can talk to him. No guarantees, mind you, but I’ll see how he strikes me. To tell the truth, I could use a timely interruption to get rid of awful Lord Drogue. I’m late for him now. Hmmmm. Go and find Mark and tell him to come to the Hall of Audience in about half an hour. I will be most grateful for the interruption, and he may have his interview.”
    Delphine jumped up and down in childlike glee, the smile on her face as pure and absolute as the sunlight slanting into the courtyard. She threw her arms around her sister and squeezed the air right out of her lungs. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, dearest. I knew I could count on you. You’ll love him as much as I do, you’ll see. Thank you, Rel.”
    Jorelial couldn’t help her own broad smile, even while trying to be firm. “Half an hour, then, and no guarantees.” That’s how Delphine was, she thought, as the younger girl danced back into the crowd: effervescent, persuasive, downright contagious. She shook her head, wondering how to handle this newest wrinkle, and started back toward the Hall of Audience at the other end of the courtyard.
    Delphine had been the child of her father’s second marriage, strongly urged upon him by King Darian himself. Her mother had been the daughter of a foreign prince seeking beneficial alliances. She had been very beautiful, in an otherworldly sort of way, and Gareth had loved her well, despite the age difference. She might have loved him in her own way too, but she was always somewhat frail and shy, subject to bouts of depression or nervous anxiety. She was homesick most of the time, and seemed oddly unsuited to the social obligations that a wife of such an important courtier incurred. She never seemed to make any real friends at court, spending much of her time closeted alone in her chambers. Gareth had thought that being with child would give her a new sense of purpose and connection to him, and a new level of maturity. But the pregnancy was difficult. She was miserable and resentful of all it brought with it, and seemed horrified at the prospect of being responsible for raising a child. When Delphine was delivered in a long and troubled labor, the babe was taken to a wet-nurse for care, while her mother lay in bed for weeks, pale and listless, ostensibly recovering from the ordeal. One day she just disappeared, stolen away back to her homeland and family, leaving behind a suckling babe and a note with a single word on it: “Sorry.” Gareth was heartbroken, but not entirely surprised. He turned his affections on his baby daughter, who had inherited her mother’s translucent beauty, but not her frailty or temperament.
    A doting father and a competent nanny made sure the child had all her basic needs met. But it was Jorelial, a full ten years older, who stepped into a mother’s role, having fallen in love with the tiny babe on first glimpsing the wide, innocent, green eyes. And now that there was only the two of them, Jorelial still felt the impulse to protect her younger sister as a tiger guards its young. She wanted Delphine to be happy, but it would be difficult learning to let go and allow the young woman to make her own choices – and her own mistakes – in a world of so many dangers and false friends. Rel sighed to think she would not be able to protect her much longer. But that would not stop her from giving this ‘Mark’ a thorough grilling today.
    Arriving at the Hall of Audience, she shifted her thoughts to immediate matters, as she came upon Lord Drogue already pacing the room. She decided that