[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mean, but he gendered enough awe and respect that if he made noises about it being a possibility, people would take it for
a genuine possibility - he did not make idle threats - and that would be that.
"What is the nature of this altercation?"
"Beast versus Beast is all I know," Seraphin said, torn between dry amusement and the same frustration that made Gael
glower as they entered the private gardens of the Golden Palace. Gold-flecked stones wove footpaths through the garden,
which had been carefully arranged to look almost but not quite wild, the trees, plants, and flowers carefully tended to by a
staff of thirty gardeners.
All the footpaths met in the center, around a large artificial pond over which spanned a delicate green and white bridge. In
front of the pond were four Beasts - Countess Matilda Hardy, the White Fox and Marchioness Elianne Poulx, the White
Eagle, seemed currently to be pitted in heated debate against Duke Rodrigue Sauvegeon, the White Lion and Marquis
Honore DuChamps, the White Stag.
"What is the nature of this squabble?" Gael asked, and though he had not raised his voice in the slightest, the four shouting
Beasts immediately ceased.
Elianne immediately bowed her head, the long strands of her hair falling over one shoulder. Usually, she was one of those
three Gael would never have felt like killing. "Our apologies, your Grace." Her cool, dark blue eyes landed briefly on
Seraphin. "We did mean to disturb you with our disagreement."
"It's not me you should be worried about disturbing," Gael said. He let his senses loose, feeling out for whoever might be in
the area. "It is the six gardeners and three maids who should be the source of your concern. Even now they listen to their
Beasts bicker like children. Why?" Even as he said it, Gael worked gently to send the hidden workers off. Time and again
he and Freddie had struggled with this dilemma - the Beasts forgetting their place, their importance, except where it didn't
matter at all. When the garden and rooms immediately surrounding it were well and truly empty, he asked again more
sharply. "Why?"
For a moment no one answered him, and Gael was on the verge of losing his temper when the White Fox, Matilda, finally
responded. "We were debating the spring and summer festivals, your Grace."
"What about them?" Gael asked. "The spring fairs should be coming up soon, yes? I am surprised that I've not had
requests for funding and such already submitted, come to think of it."
The White Stag, often very high on the list of people Gael wanted to pitch into the river, answered the question. "What is
the point? In three weeks we will all be dead."
"Yes," Gael said, voice low and calm - but the entire group recoiled, the White Lion nearly tumbling straight back into the
pond. "We very likely will be. You, however, do not say that. You project an air of confidence. You act as though everything
is normal. You plan for the spring and summer festivals and be enthusiastic about it.
"How often, little children, must I remind you of your place? You are the Beasts of Verde; the people see you in a way they
do not see myself or the Grand Duchess - we are too remote, too far away, for the people to truly look up to us. It is to you
Beasts they turn for guidance, for assistance. Do you think you wear those expensive clothes, live in my palace, have your
pretty manors and cottages because you're simply entitled to them?" Gael fell silent a moment, then shouted the next word.
"No!"
He stalked closer to his Beasts, longing to just shove and send them all into the pond. "Your duty, by right of birth, is to
protect the children of Verde. That means you put on a brave front no matter how scared and worried you are; it means
when they need comfort, you comfort. I do not care if you're miserable yourself! You will plan for the spring and summer
festivals, and you will be certain those plans are ready and everything in place before the Ceremony. We might be dead in
a matter of weeks, but the rest of Verde will not be, and it is for them those festivals are planned - not you. Have I made
myself clear, Beasts?"
"Yes, your Grace," Matilda and Elianne said quietly, bowing their heads low. He would be willing to bet they had been
defending the festivals, in favor of holding them - but the point remained they should not have been arguing about it where
file:///H|/NOVEL/New%20novel/4.htm[9/25/2009 10:25:21 AM]
AmaSour Fiction
the servants could hear, because the servants had been listening and now word would spread that the Beasts were worried
and squabbling.
Gael glared at the Stag and Lion until they too finally muttered acknowledgement of his words. Then he turned sharply on
his heel and stalked from the garden, dropping the light compulsion that had kept everyone away while he yelled at his
Beasts.
Too many messages from Freddie had spoken of exactly the same problem with her Beasts. It meant somewhere along the
way, they had both failed to properly teach the Beasts their place& though it was hard to teach men and women who
ranged in age from his own thirty years all the way to nearly forty. Why should half of them even think of listening to him,
never mind turning to him for guidance?
He tried, though. Instinctively, he knew, the Beasts would always feel compelled to follow and obey the Guardians
Prospective. Still, with Freddie so mercurial and himself so& remote& why should his Beasts listen to him?
Except that wasn't really the point. They could ignore him all they wanted if they just saw to their people instead of sniping
at each other and complaining of wearing white. Not that he blamed them for those complaints, but it was one more thing
they should keep to themselves and speak of only in absolute private. They wore white to always separate themselves out
from the crowd; so that even in the middle of chaos, the Beasts would stand out like beacons.
Though, the way they squabbled, all one had to do was follow the shouting.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]