Lubonne’s small eyes ratcheted to slits. “That sounds . . . utterly disgusting.”
Carthea raised her head as if to trumpet out a whinny; but no sound emerged. :I’m not talking about your bowels, Beloved Idiot. I mean your soul. It’s gorgeous . . . : The words came with a wash of love bordering on awe. :And you’re more Gifted than I initially guessed. Look how quickly you picked up Mindspeak.:
The Companion’s words gave Lubonne pause, but only for a moment. Just call me Hawknose Gorgeoussoul, a Collegium trainee. It all seemed a ridiculous fantasy. “Look, Carthea. Those sound like lovely compliments, aside from the ‘idiot’ part. It’s not a matter of whether I’m capable of becoming a Herald; I’ll take your word that I am. It’s just that . . . I’m happy with my current life. I want to live it out fully and completely. And I made a lifelong promise to Honoria.”
Carthea’s gait went stiff. She clearly wished to say something, and a hint of an unidentified emotion that seemed rough and unkind slipped through the mental contact. However, she remained silent.
Rinny did not need guiding to take the left fork toward Honoria’s family home.
“Do you understand?” For the first time, Lubonne actually wondered what Carthea might have been thinking, what cruel words she had kept to herself.
:Responsibility. Heroic devotion.: Carthea seemed to be thinking aloud. :These are the virtues, and the curse, of a Herald.: She bobbed her head. :I understand.:
Lubonne heaved a sigh of relief. “Then you’ll leave me alone?”
Carthea melted into the woodland shadows, but the mental contact left a lasting impression.
Lubonne scarcely dared to believe that, this time, it might actually, finally, be over.
A private, sunny picnic with Honoria drove all thought and concern about the Companion from Lubonne’s mind. Their engagement felt so right, so normal, as opposed to the odd conversations he had shared with the magnificent horselike creature moments earlier. Though barely a day’s ride away, the country of Valdemar seemed like another world in another time, and its self-named city even more so. Lubonne could almost convince himself that Carthea had merely appeared to him in a series of weird and consecutive dreams.
It took most of the afternoon for Honoria to pick out her dress, the process every bit as tedious as the decoration of the feasting hall. Blurry-eyed and bored within the hour, Lubonne found himself saying the same flattering words over and over until they sounded insincere even to himself. Then Honoria’s sisters combed and cut and perfumed the couple’s hair until Lubonne thought he could stand it no more. In the end, he looked exactly the same, at least to his own eyes, but he complimented the girls to the sun and beyond just to get them to finish.
Dusk darkened the horizon by the time Honoria’s parents and sisters rode off in their small, family carriage. They lived a modest life, their fortune more meager than Lubonne’s own. Honoria planned to use Lubonne’s inheritance to fix up the small piece of soupy land that served as her dowry. Then he would secure a guarding job in the city to support her and their forthcoming family.
Honoria perched delicately behind the saddle while sure, steady Rinny picked her quiet way across the packed earth roadways through the forest.
“Must we go this way, my darling Hawk?” Honoria asked sweetly. “I’m afraid things falling from the trees might muss my hair.”
The thought had occurred to Lubonne, but he still worried about the need to explain Carthea. The Companion had left him to his own devices since he had chased her away that morning, but she had a habit of turning up inconveniently. Lubonne removed his coat and held it over Honoria’s head with one hand, the other clutching Rinny’s reins. “Here. Use this.”
Honoria looked up. “I don’t want your coat stained, either. I want a perfect entrance.” Nevertheless, she took the coat in both hands and held it over her hair to protect it from the wind, leaves, and elements.
“Perfect entrance, eh? Then I’ll have to walk in backward,” Lubonne quipped. “Or this nose will precede us and spoil everything.” He expected Honoria to laugh, but she did not.
Instead, she muttered, “At least our children won’t have to worry about it.”
Lubonne’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the comment. “About what, my darling?”
At his back, Lubonne felt Honoria stiffen. “Nothing.”
Nothing? Lubonne frowned, wondering what she had intended to say. “Our children will have your stunning beauty. No one will even notice the size of their noses. But even should one inherit my beak, it’s not such a bad thing. I’ve done well enough with it.” He reached back to pat her hand. “I’m blessed enough to have you as my future wife.”
Honoria gripped his hand. Released on one side, the coat flapped over her. “My darling, Hawk.”
Rinny bunched beneath them; but, accustomed to boys’ play, she did not shy at the noises the wind made of his coat. Honoria let go of Lubonne’s hand to grab up both sides of his coat again, and the fluttering sounds ceased. Soon, however, Rinny’s walk slowed to a crawl as she navigated jutting roots, rocks, and pocks in the makeshift roadway.
As the earthern path met the cobbled one, Lubonne pulled Rinny up to wait for two servants to assist a cousin’s family from their coach. As the cousins headed for the house and a groomsman led their horse and vehicle away, Lubonne reined Rinny at the gate.
Vannath took the bay’s reins, while a servant Lubonne did not recognize helped Honoria dismount. Apparently brought in by one of the hires, the young, handsome man seemed to enjoy his duty a bit too much. He cradled Honoria in his arms as he carried, more than assisted, his grin containing a hint of interested leer. “My lady, you shouldn’t ride in a gown like that. Horse hair doesn’t become anyone, and the stench of the beasts is hardly perfume.” Without so much as a glance toward Lubonne, he held out the young lord’s coat.
Lubonne accepted it curiously. “What’s your name, groomsman?”
The young man finally spared Lubonne a haughty glance. “Haralt, sir. And I’m not a groomsman. I’m a server. I’m just helping until my job comes up.”
Lubonne pursed his already thin lips into a taut line. “Well, Haralt. You may place my bride on the ground now. Last I checked, she did have feet, small and delicate though they are.”
Honoria giggled coquettishly as Haralt obeyed. “Yes, sir.” Turning on a heel, the servant walked stiffly back toward the house, while Vannath took Rinny to the stable.
Lubonne crooked a brow, uncertain how to feel about the exchange. “Do you know that man?”
“Of course I do. A friend of my family. He’s sweet, really.”
“Sweet, maybe.” Lubonne pulled on his coat absently. He watched the man’s back as he headed up the walkway, fine blond hair splashing over muscular shoulders. “But he certainly took a few liberties.”
Honoria hit Lubonne’s arm in mock irritation, then set to work preening her dress and hair back into proper order. “Oh, please. Don’t be so priggish. You’re not going to be the kind of husband who lords over me and bridles every time a man looks in my direction, are you?”
“That was hardly looking in your direction.”
She hit him again, a bit harder. “You’re going to have to get used to it. When you marry an attractive woman, men are going to stare.”