3-1
... Ambassador Stellan has informed me of the disquiet happening on the road between Westover and Fort Guildenree. I will be happy to send forty men to post that road, and in exchange ask that Betaliron send provisions to them once a month.
Send my sincerest birthday wishes to young Prince Derek, and I hope that he will accept the gifts I sent along.
Yours Humbly,
King William
Post Script:
I happened on an interesting thought about birthdays the other night. I wondered, as we have agreed that Derek and Odette should spend a season together each year, if we might do it each summer, starting a week before Odette's birthday and ending a week after Derek's. I thought it might be nice for them to have a reason to celebrate each other, in turn.
William put down his quill and straightened, his back cricking and tightening as he lifted his head. His body was old, and well worn. Odette had come so much later in his life than he had wished. And although he wasn't on death's door quite yet, a crown had a way of aging a man.
Odette's youngest nursemary cooed to Odette on the rug of William's office. "Nursemary," William said, and the little women jumped up to curtsy.
"My king,"
William signaled for her to rise, and she straightened only to crouch again to pick up Odette. The baby gargled. Her little eyes, which had been new born grey but had since blued and then purpled as the year had passed, were drawn to the candle on Williams desk, and she reached her little hand for it, despite being feet from it. William took Odette from the nursemary's arms. "You may retire for the night. I think it might rain soon."
As if at his command, a burst of thunder exploded above the castle, and the force of it shook the shudders and hard wood floors. Odette let out a wail, shaking in William's arms, and hid her face in William's neck. "Shh." William hushed her gently, patting her little back. "We are brave, little cygnet. We must be braver and stronger than the rest. It is how they trust us to rule."
He rocked and bounced a bit as he slowly walked her over to the fireplace and took her mother's small rattle from the mantel. He shook it before her, and she lifted her head, reaching for the toy and momentarily forgetting to cry before another roll of thunder clawed through the walls of the castle and Odette screamed anew.
The rain started to fall then, a few pinpricks of sound on the windowsill before they steadied into the low murmur of prattles and pops as the drops crashed down more heavily.
Lightning.
Thunder.
Odette's cries.
William sighed wearily. It was late, he was worn, and he missed his wife. "Shh," he whispered in his daughter's ear as she cried. "There is nothing to be afraid of, cygnet. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you."
There was another crash of thunder, farther away. This time, the floors didn't shake. William continued to rock Odette, speaking to her in hushed tones as her cries dwindled from keens to low whimpers and she drifted off to sleep.
William sighed again, this time in relief, and more thunder rolled outside in the distance. He quietly left his office study and made his way through his castle to his chambers.
