“Pardon?” Darshan softly enquired.
The eldest of the trio pointed at Darshan’s plate. “I said: are you going to eat that?”
“I cannot even be certain what that is,” he confessed. “You are welcome to it.” He went to push the plate the boy’s way, but the boy leant across the table and snatched up the dish before Darshan could finish talking.
“Bruce!” the sandy-haired woman snapped, instantly getting the boy’s attention. “Put that down.”
With his ruddy-brown cheeks growing darker, Bruce immediately returned the plate to the table.
“I’m sorry about that, your highness,” the woman continued, fixing the boy with a sharp look. Now that she had turned her attention to him, there was no mistaking her as being one of Queen Fiona’s children, not with her face a replica of the queen’s narrow jaw and high cheekbones. “The wee devils would starve you skinny and pick your bones clean if they’d half a chance.” She gave the boys another stern look, although her glower quickly softened into a fond smile.
“It is quite all right,” Darshan insisted, nudging the plate ever closer to Bruce until the boy was able to sneakily slide it on top of his own bare dish. “I rather doubt my ability to eat another bite.” At least, not without it coming back up.
“Really?” The woman eyed him as if he were some wretch that’d washed up in the last storm. “Pardon me for saying, but you look like there’s barely anything to you.”
“Nora,” Hamish growled, nudging the woman with his elbow. “Knock it off. He looks fine.” Panic flickered across his face and he glanced at Queen Fiona before lowering his gaze to his own plate. “I mean in a perfectly healthy sense,” he mumbled.
Darshan gnawed on the inside of his lip as he eyed Hamish’s plate. That has to be his third helping. Where was he putting it all? The man ate more than a ravenous spellster returning from battle.
The sandy-haired woman giggled.
“So, you are Nora,” Darshan said in an attempt to deflect the woman’s interest from her brother. The name had been mentioned in passing as he’d exited the docks and Hamish insisted she knew more about the kingdom’s trade than most. Odd how he hadn’t met her when the other children had been expected to greet his arrival.
“Have me brothers been talking about me?” Grinning, Nora gave both of the men a light-hearted shove. “Good things, I hope.”
“I believe so.” He glanced at Hamish, looking for any sign that he should stop speaking, but the man merely gave a faint smile as he met Darshan’s gaze before returning to his food. “I heard you have an excellent grasp on the trade records.”
Nora beamed, pride squaring her shoulders. “Aye, I do!” She steepled her fingers on the table, all attention focused on Darshan. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to enquire about them?”
“He was asking about linen earlier,” Hamish said around a mouthful of food.
“Linen?” Nora frowned at her brother, her brows knotting further in thought before she grinned. “You want to ken about the flax plantations? I can tell you a lot there.” She leant over the table, very nearly putting her bosom into her food. “You see—”
Queen Fiona cleared her throat. “Rein it in, Nora dear. We can discuss all this in greater detail tomorrow.”
Nora hung her head, a knuckle pressed to her lip. “Aye, Mum,” she mumbled.
“There is one thing I did wonder,” Darshan said. “Your brother mentioned much of the wares go by land, would it not be favourable to send them by ship?”
The gentle clink of plates and cutlery halted. Everyone grew still, some scarcely daring to chew the food still hanging out their mouths. One by one, their gazes left him to focus solely on Nora.
The woman’s face, which had been so cheerfully expressive a mere moment ago, was now wiped free of all emotion. “If you will excuse me,” she murmured, standing woodenly. “I’m a wee bit more tired than I thought.” The woman didn’t linger around for anyone to utter a word, opting to hurry out of the nearest door.
The three boys looked amongst themselves before scampering after her. Upright, they seemed a good deal taller than he had first judged, with the eldest looking as though he could easily rival the height of Darshan’s twin sister. Or maybe even himself.
“Well,” Queen Fiona said. “That was not quite the ending to dinner I was hoping for.” She stood, along with her husband who still towered over her even though she was a good half-foot taller than Darshan. She halted as they went to leave the table. “Do send your wee lass to bed, Gordon dear. Just look at her, almost asleep in her food.”
Gordon circled the table to gently shake the auburn-haired girl and whisper in her ear.
The girl jolted upright in the chair. Those wide, green eyes surveyed the table, her brows lowering and her lips pursing. “Where’d everyone go?”
“Bed, lass,” Gordon said. “You should be off, too.”
Nodding, the girl dutifully hopped out of her seat—her height not far off that of the eldest boy. She gave the ghastly bearskin a brief pat before trotting off towards the same door the rest of the family had vacated through.
If only my siblings were as complacent. He had lost count of the times the palace servants had been reduced to chasing his half-sisters through the corridors. Did a lack of magical talent make children less likely to be unruly, or did his father merely have the ill-fortune to sire disobedient offspring?
Darshan waited until the girl was well out of earshot before speaking. “I am dreadfully sorry for upsetting your sister.” There was no question her exodus had been his doing. He stood and made for the main door alongside the two princes. It’d likely be for the best if he sought a different route back
