The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin

Tassin enjoyed Victor’s company on their stroll through the palace gardens, since he was polite and attentive. Strange, exotic plants and trees crowded the vast acreage, and a veritable menagerie of creatures populated it. Numerous ponds housed bright fish and flowering lilies, and birds with stilt-like legs waded in them. Victor pointed out some of the more bizarre flora, enumerating their peculiarities with a depth of knowledge that made her wonder if he was a closet horticulturist.

  Tassin plucked several sweet-scented flowers, and Prince Victor laughed and flirted with her, apparently charmed by her light-hearted prattle. After Sabre’s rude company, he was a delight of decorum. All too soon, however, a messenger interrupted their jaunt to whisper in the Prince’s ear. Victor issued muttered instructions, and the servant trotted away.

  The Prince turned to her with a rueful grimace. “It seems I am required elsewhere, but I have asked Queen Mirrial to keep you company. I am sure she will be delighted to talk to you while I attend to this trifling matter.”

  Tassin smiled, surprised. “Must you hurry off? If it is such a trifling matter, perhaps it can wait.”

  Victor returned her smile rather tightly. “I am afraid I have to go, but I shall hurry back to see you again.” He glanced around. “Ah, here is Mirrial now.”

  A petite, stately woman approached them, her black hair swept up in an elaborate coif studded with jewelled pins. A gold necklace clasped her slender throat and emeralds glowed on her fingers. Mirrial possessed the dusky skin and exotic beauty of her people, and her elegant, peacock blue silk gown, trimmed with white lace, swept the ground in graceful folds. She bestowed a warm smile upon Tassin when Victor introduced them, and, as soon as he had performed this duty, he bowed and strode away. Tassin gazed after him, wondering what required his attention so urgently. Princes generally did not have many duties, and those they did, they usually preferred to avoid, yet Victor seemed eager to attend this business.

  Mirrial indicated a quartet of cushioned garden chairs around an ornate wrought-iron table. “Let us sit and chatter, Tassin. I am so curious about your kingdom. You must tell me all about it.”

  “Yes, of course,” Tassin replied, tearing her thoughts from Victor.