““Donal—come with me. There are men you should meet.” Politics, of course. “I mean to dance with Aislinn.” He thought perhaps an appeal to Carillon’s parental prejudice would delay the need for such discussions. Carillon smiled, seeing through the tactic at once. “Aislinn can wait a few moments. These are men you will need to know.” The Mujhar’s hand was on Donal’s arm as he turned him away from the dance floor. “I know, this is your wedding celebration—but you will soon learn that such occasion...s offer opportunities other times do not.” Reluctantly, Donal went with him to the knot of noblemen. Two of them he knew, having seen them year in and year out in Homana-Mujhar while they danced attendance on Carillon. Three others were strangers to him, but their accents were Solindish. Carillon conducted the introductions smoothly with light-handed authority. The nuances told Donal the Mujhar meant to emphasize that this Cheysuli was now the Prince of Homana; did the Solindish seek to discount him, they discounted the man who would one day rule their realm.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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