Maire was unaccustomed to sneaking about in her own house. She had not known there was a creaking board in the floor at the end of the hall. She had not known how loudly bare feet slapped on bare wood. She had not known that the door to this room squeaked on its hinges.
In his own house, Godred Whitehand wore fine leather shoes of such softness that any cat would have liked two pair to muffle the sound of his tramping paws.
There were many people whom Cedric did not want to see, but there were few whose knocks he could honestly ignore.
He wiped his nose a last time and hid his handkerchief beneath his pillow before calling, “Enter!” His own voice sounded as gruff as a grown man’s after so many childish tears.
“No, you may not have a new dress,” Sigefrith announced as the Queen came in.
The men laughed, and Eadgith smiled nervously, as timid people smiled at jokes they did not understand.
Sir Malcolm seemed to stumble in surprise as he hurried into the hall.
“Captain!” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”
Eithne still giggled, but the hand that stroked Sweetdew seemed to be shaking, and her heart was beginning to thud. Something had changed in the last minutes.
Devin on
New Server
"Oooh that explains it,..."