The War of The Magi : Book Two

Chapter Three

"My Queen!"

Without even touching Magnar, Senea could feel his entire stance change. He gripped the hilt of the sword tighter, his head held up high. "Lord Allard, it's an honor to see you again," Senea said as he bowed at her, his grin infectious. With the nod of her head, Allard moved closer, grasping her wrists tight.

"I travelled straight through the night and still it seems I missed all the fun." Allard moved closer, but stopped when he heard the clearing of Lord Snowthorne's throat. "Or perhaps not."

Senea nodded her head and averted her sight to where a man stood just to the side of Lord Snowthorne. He had brown hair that was balding on the top and travelled down along the sides of his face and formed a bushy beard. He was rotund, body and face, with a broken nose. "My Queen," he said, his voice thick and heavy with sleep. "It is an honor to meet you, finally. I fear I was quite ill when you arrived at Pryston Keep."

Senea moved past Allard, Magnar hot on her tail. She bowed her head, placing on her most sympathetic smile. "I'm glad you are feeling better. Was the travel harsh for you?" This man looked nothing like Allard.

He grunted and turned towards Lord Snowthorne. "I never understood why you stayed up here, Magnere. Snow for moon passings on end, with barely a break for the vernal season before harvest begins. I'll be happier when you move back down to Itod, your grace."

Lord Snowthorne sucked in a breath. "The snow fends off unwanted visitors, Aldrick, and with the Wolral pushed back, there isn't a safer place for her highness."

Sir Braund waved his hand at the Lord Commander. "No matter. We have made it in time for the offering, I assume? Allard, have you already -"

Allard bowed his head, tufts of blond hair falling over his forehead. "Yes, father. Just prior to her grace coming."

Lord Snowthorne gestured his hand towards the door and Senea saw a glimpse of a roaring fire pit. "This way then, Sir Braund. Magnar, if you would continue to escort her grace to her room?"

Magnar bowed, his sight caught Allard's deflated grin. The two older men walked past the benches and towards the door, speaking amongst themselves. "I have a gift for you, Senea," Allard whispered, quiet enough for only the three of them to hear it. "I do apologize for it taking so long, but I wanted it to be perfect."

Allard gestured towards the main door, excitement returning to his face. Senea turned towards Magnar, an unreadable face was her only response. "Perhaps it could wait until tomorrow? It's been a long day and I want nothing more than to sleep."

A deflated smile replaced his once brilliant one as his hands returned to his sides. "I suppose so."

Senea gave him a kind look before allowing a small nod of her head of approval. "Alright, Allard. Go and retrieve this gift."

Happiness sprung into his face as he bowed his head and rushed towards the main door. Magnar's fist tightened, his knuckles pale against the warm leather of his hilt. "Senea, is this really necessary?"

Senea kept her eyes on the door, her body turning towards Magnar. "Better for it to be now and pray that he leaves tomorrow." Magnar shook his head, his grip loosening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Senea kept on talking. "Besides, the anticipation of what awaits in my room is quite thrilling, if I must admit it."

Magnar felt his stomach twist in a knot as the look that he caught from her changed from her regal face, one she had mastered, to a look of longing for him. He let out a slow breath, hearing the footsteps echoing into the great hall, and whispered, "You continue to make me wait and tease me so. What's waiting for you may change."