“It’s an old blade Hod told me to take to practice with,” I defended myself. “It works.”
“Obviously. I shall have her select a better one for you, and do a bit of fancywork on the hilt and scabbard. Would that do it?”
“I think so,” I said awkwardly.
“Well. Let’s back to bed, shall we? And I shall be able to sleep now, won’t I?” There was no mistaking the amusement in his voice now. My cheeks burned anew.
“Sir. I have to ask….” I fumbled the hard words out. “Do you know who I was dreaming about?”
He shook his head slowly. “Do not fear you have compromised her honor. I know only that she wears blue skirts, but you see them as red. And that you love her with an ardency that is appropriate to youth. Do not struggle to stop loving her. Only to stop Skilling it about at night. I am not the only one open to such Skilling, though I believe I am the only one who would recognize your signature on the dream so plain. Still, be cautious. Galen’s coterie is not without Skill, even if they use it clumsily and with little strength. A man can be undone when his enemies learn what is dearest to him from his Skill dreams. Keep your guard up.” He gave an inadvertent chuckle. “And hope your Lady Red-Skirts has no Skill in her blood, for if she does at all, she must have heard you all these many nights.”
And having put that unsettling thought into my head, he dismissed me back to my chambers and bed. I did not sleep again that night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Queen Awakes
Oh, some folk ride to the wild-boar hunt
Or for elk they nock their arrows