To Green Angel Tower, Volume 1

To Green Angel Tower, Volume 1 by Tad Williams

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Authors: Tad Williams
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interrupted by a knock at the door.
    “Lady Marya? Are you awake?”
    She did not answer. The door slowly swung open. Miriamele cursed herself inwardly: she should have bolted it.
    “Lady Marya?” The earl’s voice was soft. “Are you ill? I missed you at supper.”
    She stirred and rubbed her eyes, as if awakening from sleep. “Lord Aspitis? I’m sorry, I am not feeling well. We will talk tomorrow, if I feel better.”
    He came on cat-soft feet and sat down on the edge of her bed. His long fingers traced her cheek. “But this is terrible. What ails you? I shall have Gan Itai look to you. She is well-versed in healing; I would trust her past any leech or apothecary.”
    “Thank you, Aspitis. That would be kind. Now I should probably go back to sleep. I’m sorry to be such poor company.”
    The earl seemed in no hurry to leave. He stroked her hair. “You know, Lady, I am truly sorry for my rough words and ways of the other evening. I have come to care deeply for you, and I was upset at the idea that you might leave me so soon. After all, we share a deep lovers’ bond, do we not?” His fingertips slid down to her neck, making the skin tighten and sending a chill through her.
    “I fear I am not in good condition to talk about such things now, Lord. But I forgive you your words, which I know were hasty and not heartfelt.” She turned her eyes to his face for a moment, trying to judge his thoughts. His eyes seemed guileless, but she remembered Cadrach’s words, as well as Gan Itai’s description of the gathering he had hosted, and the chill returned, bringing a tremor that she was hard-pressed to conceal.
    “Good,” he said. “Very good. I am glad you understand that. Hasty words. Exactly.”
    Miriamele decided to test that courtier’s sincerity of his. “But of course, Aspitis, you must understand my own unhappiness. My father, you see, does not know where I am. Perhaps already the convent will have sent word to him that I did not arrive. He will be sick with worry. He is old, Aspitis, and I fear for his health. You can see why I feel I must forsake your hospitality, whether I wish to or not.”
    “Of course,” said the earl. Miriamele felt a flicker of hope. Could she have misread him after all? “It is cruel to let your father worry. We will send him word as soon as we next make landfall—on Spenit Island, I think. And we will give him the good news.”
    She smiled. “He will be very happy to hear I am well.” “Ah.” Aspitis returned her smile. His long, fine jaw and clear eyes could have served as a sculptor’s model for one of the great heroes of the past. “But there will be more good news than just that. We will tell him that his daughter is to marry one into of Nabban’s Fifty Families!”
    Miriamele’s smile faltered. “What?”
    “Why, we will tell him of our coming marriage!” Aspitis laughed with delight. “Yes, Lady, I have thought and thought, and although your family is not quite so elevated as mine—and Erkynlandish, as well—I have decided for love’s sake to spit in the face of tradition. We will be married when we return to Nabban.” He took her cold hand in his warm grip. “But you do not look as happy as I would have hoped, beautiful Marya.”
    Miriamele’s mind was racing, but as in a dream of fearful pursuit, she could think of nothing but escape. “I ... I am overwhelmed, Aspitis.”
    “Ah, well, I suppose that is understandable.” He stood, then bent over to kiss her. His breath smelled of wine, his cheek of perfume. His mouth was hard against hers for a moment before he pulled away. “After all, it is rather sudden, I know. But it would be worse than ungentlemanly of me to desert you ... after all we have shared. And I have come to love you, Marya. The flowers of the north are different than those of my southern home, but their scent is just as sweet, the blossoms just as beautiful.”
    He stopped in the doorway. “Rest and sleep well, Lady. We have much to

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