I did not lie. “Some days he goes early to his tower. Or he may be breakfasting, I suppose. Or in the baths …” I offered.
“Useless bastard,” Regal dismissed me, and whirled, to hurry off in the direction of the tower. I hoped the climb would amuse him. As soon as he was out of sight, I broke into a run, not to waste the precious time I had gained.
The moment I entered the courtyard, the reason for Regal’s fury was made clear. Kettricken stood atop a wagon seat, and every head was turned up toward her. She wore the same clothes she had the night before. By daylight, I could see how a spray of blood had marked the sleeve of the white fur jacket, and how a heavier plume of it had soaked and stained her purple trousers. She was booted and hatted, ready to ride. A sword was buckled at. her hip. Dismay rose in me. How could she? I glanced about, wondering what she had been saying. Every face was turned to her, eyes wide. I had emerged into a moment of utter silence. Every man and woman seemed to be holding breath, awaiting her next words. When they came, they were uttered in a speaking voice, calmly, but so silent was the crowd that her clear voice carried in the cold air.
“This is not a hunt, I say,” Kettricken repeated gravely. “Put aside your merriment and boasts. Remove from your bodies every bit of jewelry, every sign of rank. Let your hearts be solemn and consider what we do.”
Her words were accented still with the flavor of the Mountains, but a cool part of my mind observed how carefully chosen was each word, how balanced each phrase.