Читать книгу Royal Exile - Fiona McIntosh, Fiona McIntosh - Страница 11

7

Clovis sat silent and rigid, his fists clenched in his lap, the stone wall hard against his back. His life had been what many might describe as perfect. He was not a rich man — not yet, anyway — but he had been happier than many of the wealthy men he was required to offer his services to. Nor was he poor, not by a long shot. Work was regular and it didn’t require him to ruin his back toiling out in the field at the mercy of Lo’s moods. He was not old but he was no longer what could be described as a young man; middle years was perhaps the kindest way to term it. But he was hale and he had not yet found grey in his beard or experienced aches in his knees. He had no complaints.

And yet in a heartbeat the world he’d got used to — the routine life he was so comfortable in — had been turned upside down. He’d never loved Leah, not in the way that some people describe love; an angelic chorus didn’t strike up in his ear whenever he saw her and his pulse didn’t quicken, nor did he feel the rise of passion that he knew he should feel. But Leah was kind, and good. She loved him and he was fond of her. He liked her soothing prattle. She was not beautiful, not even pretty. But she was sunny. She laughed a great deal, especially at his jests, and her big bright smile could light a small room.

Leah had enough love and laughter for both of them fortunately. But what Leah had given to him — where all of his love was given in return — was their daughter, Corin. And whereas he and Leah would describe themselves as plain, Corin was sweet on the eye of all who beheld her. His child had the temperament of an angel and she bound Clovis and Leah, smothering the shortfalls they had as a couple, with her addictively fun personality and stealing Clovis’s heart so that he could never leave, even if he wanted to. And the truth is he had never wanted to leave since the day of Corin’s birth. For five peaceful, plentiful years Clovis had overlooked the lacklustre nature of his hasty marriage to Leah when she’d discovered her pregnancy, and considered himself a blessed man.

His role as a diviner was in brisk demand and although he charged the everyday folk just a few trents for a quick ‘impression’ as he termed it, the richer people of Vorgaven — of which there were plenty — threw grand parties at which they invited diviners to foretell the future at far greater expense. The wealthiest of all — the shipping families — would invite him to their magnificent homes for personal ‘tellings’.

It had become very fashionable to have a personal diviner on the payroll, someone who would advise on everything from best sailing times to which crew to select. It was a lucrative way to earn a living and recently Clovis had been able to build his small family a dwelling of their own on a tiny parcel of land he’d bought from one of his clients. It looked out to sea toward the Isle of Medhaven and Leah had begun to talk about no longer having to work at the inn. This had pleased Clovis, for he liked the idea that Leah would be at home all the time with Corin, rather than dropping her off at Delly’s for a few hours until Clovis could take over child-minding duties.

Corin had been an accident, of course; the result of a dry, hurried copulation one evening in the cellar of The Fat Badger where Leah worked as a barmaid. He had been so drunk he was cross-eyed and honestly believed that he’d had it off with Alys Kenric, who wasn’t unlike Leah in colouring, except much prettier. He had been celebrating a particularly rich haul from a wealthy merchant from Cremond who had revisited with a heavy purse to thank Clovis for his advice in buying black tourmaline from a small mine on Medhaven. The merchant had thought him mad at the time but Clovis realised the man had nevertheless taken his advice and purchased a substantial amount of quality stones. Who could have known — other than Clovis perhaps — that the second son of the Vorgaven royals, Danre, would choose for a bride the daughter of a very senior noble in Cremond. Or that this bride would have a fascination with black silk and black jewels. The merchant made a handsome profit from his tourmalines and had been anxious to thank the diviner from Vorgaven. Clovis had lived to quietly rue the day of that purse landing in his lap, because he certainly had held no ideas about marriage or even falling in love. But Leah had become pregnant and Clovis was pressured by her folk to do the right thing and Corin was the reward for his sacrifice.