Another quick shot of my upcoming novel, The Girl in the Fountain. Out 7/15!
It’s not really a question; it’s a demand. But the inflection rises. A queen is solicitous. She is grace. She is steel but always carefully masked behind yards of silk and stones sparkling so they blind the idiot masses.
Gregor though, he’s no idiot. He blinks past it. And he knows a demand when he hears one. He straightens.
“She’s snowed in by this point,” Elana murmurs. They both know it. The words are unnecessary. But again, there is an expectation. Something about voicing your thoughts aloud that brings import to them. “I think it’s time I have a discussion with young Rafe.”
Again, Gregor knows the truth of what lies behind an apparent suggestion. He steps to the side as Rafe enters without any further prompting. He must have been waiting beyond the door. With his three middle fingers extended on his thigh, Rafe makes a show of a formal bow, even murmurs, “Mother.”
She can’t resist running a hand through the gorgeous ebony of his hair, tilts his head up and motions for him to rise. Gregor has cleaned the boy well. Usually tromping around in those ridiculous pants with a hundred pockets, a similar black vest that seems a favorite. Usually covered in sweat and grime and he always seems most contented when he’s filthy. But today he is wearing a dark suit, no tie but a well-tailored shirt and a handkerchief in his breast pocket. He is her ideal image of a Barracks man. This was not by accident.