Hecht had Boniface’s permission to attend. Indeed, he would stand in for the Patriarch, Boniface being too frail to cross the Jagos.
Colonel Smolens overheard. “Go ahead. Sir, you’ll never enjoy a grander honor. Sedlakova, Brokke, Consent, and I can keep the outfit from falling apart.”
King Jaime of Castauriga was just tall enough not to be accounted a dwarf — in Piper Hecht’s opinion. He disliked the Direcian at first sight. The man had a dramatically inflated notion of his own worth. So much so that Cloven Februaren proved incapable of restraining his inclination to deflate swelled heads.
After just two days of sharing the road with the future Imperial consort, Madouc observed, “They say the Empress is mad about Jaime. She’d have to be.”
Pella cackled like an old woman. Hecht said, “We’ll reach Alten Weinberg a week before the wedding.
That should give Katrin time to see through the dusky little bastard.”
He knew that was wishful thinking, though. Katrin had her mind made up and her heart set. Her Council Advisory were not, supposedly, even a little thrilled. Especially not those members who had seen Jaime at Los Naves de los Fantas.
Piper Hecht did not worry about Katrin. He could not drag his thoughts away from Helspeth. In just days he would see her again. How much had his imagination run away from reality?
He felt like a callow youngster. And wondered what the Princess might be thinking. Might be anticipating.
And never stopped worrying about the soldiers he had left behind, tasked to tame the Connecten Night.
How could they possibly manage without him?
Glen Cook, Lord of the Silent Kingdom
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