It's a lot easier in pants and boots than a dress and heels. The wolf leaps in next to me and lays his large head on my lap as the boat begins to magically move through the water. It's a warm night, which I wasn't expecting. I slip off my black cloak and lay it by my side. "The air smells different here," I say. "More... dry than your realm did."
I’m sure he would’ve easily won the Kroners over if he had tried. Instead he had assumed it was his role to hide in the background when they were around, so he’d kept his mouth shut. But everything about him was more refined than me. Cool, collected, intelligent, charming, and handsome, he seemed much more like a leader than I did.A foolish man thinks he knows everything. A wise man knows he doesn’t, Finn replied absently, still looking down at the book.
That’s such a fortune-cookie answer, I said with a laugh, and even he smirked at me. But seriously, Finn. This doesn’t make any sense. You should be a ruler, not me. I don’t know anything, but you’re all set to go.I’ll never be a ruler. Finn shook his head. And you are right for the job. You just haven’t had the training that I’ve had.That’s stupid, I grumbled. It should be based on your abilities, not lineage.
It is based on abilities, Finn insisted. They just happen to come with lineage.What are you talking about? I asked, and he shut the book on his lap.
Your persuasion? That comes from your mother, Finn elaborated. The Markis and Marksinna are what they are because of the abilities they have, and they are passed down through their children. Regular Trylle have some abilities, but they’ve faded with time. Your mother is one of the most powerful Queens we’ve had in a very long time, and the hope is that you will continue the tradition of power.
But I can barely do anything! I sat up. I have mild persuasion, and you said it wouldn’t even work on you!When the butler stepped aside, and focused on the silk-covered wall opposite him, walking through that fixed gaze was like getting stung by an electric fence—although at least Saxton was used to it. And he knew where to go.
The lady’s parlor was on the left, and as he entered the frilly room, he put his hands into the pockets of his coat. The lavender walls and lemon-yellow rug were bright and cheerful, and the truth was, even though putting him here was intended as an insult, he much preferred it to the wood-paneled gentlemale’s equivalent across the foyer.His mother had died about three years ago, but this was no shrine to the loss. In fact, he didn’t have the sense that his father had missed the female.
Tyhm had always been most interested in the law—even over matters of the glymera—Saxton stilled. Pivoted toward the rear of the room.