11.

Inri slid the drawer closed slowly. Groping in his mind he could not come up with anything appropriate to say in a situation like this. The green flecks surged across his vision again.

There came an incongruously gentle knock on the closed library door behind him. Inri glanced back at the woman as if expecting some kind of moral support from a person he did not know at all.

She remained rigid oh her posture, but one eyebrow arched very slightly upwards.

With a stifled sigh, Inri turned and opened the door with a wane, polite smile. The chief servant of the house, Matron Fortia, stood stolidly on the other side.

"Your royal mother would speak with you," she said. "Her royal highness is in the Dawning Parlor."

"Thank you, of course." Something made him open the door only a little and stand such that Fortia would probably not see the lady inside. Maybe it was for the sake of propriety, but it felt like something else was afoot in her movements.

Closing the door again he tried to take a deep breath but it threatened to whistle out and bring the contents of his stomach with it. He turned back to her and offered, "Perhaps we should both just consider this meeting did not happen?"

It took more effort than it should have to raise the big cloth wrapped book and slid it into a gap on the lowest, tallest shelf. The books in that particular shelf were clad in dusty dark brown leather marked with faded inscriptions, The were, as best he could recall, copies of royal grants and charters offered in by his later grandfather and kings and a queen or two going back a generation or three from then.

As the cloth cover fell back from the magic book Inri felt muted surprised that its cover had changed to the same color and texture so that, but for a little extra width, it fitted neatly into the row--even with what looked like a matching veneer of dull grey dust.

Inri tore his eyes away and tried to act casual. He then tripped over his own toes and almost face-planted into the doorframe, raising his hands just in time to catch himself and dropping the amulet in the process. Dropping to his knees he scrambled to grab it.

[Right. So now I am on all fours with my forehead bumping the door and my ass towards a lady I do not know who is allegedly princess.]

He got to his feet with all the refinement and grace of a newborn foal.

"It would be a great courtesy to me," Inri reiterated. "If we did pretend this never happened. I hope you might also do me the favor of assuming you are not seeing me at my best."

The lady in question had still barely moved. This time she deigned to nod, slightly.

[Inri had only a few memories of his father's mother, who had once worn the velvet nightgown embroidered with lilies and bullrushes. She had been a notably tall woman who was remembered mainly for being quiet and pious and a very good advisor to her husband. But at that moment it did seem poor taste to have offered a garment with a motif of waterside flowers to a lady who almost drowned.]

Eve a small kingdom like Teluus had a lot of royal protocols. None of them seemed to quite cover leaving taking from a lady in nightwear after barfing to the furniture and then crawling around on the rug.

Inri settled for bowing very slightly and saying, "I look forward to meeting you."

She just continued to stare at him.

"Right." He tried to slip out the door but collided immediately with the solid form of Fortia, who hadn't moved at all.

The Matron was stoic by nature and meticulous by training. In retrospect, she was hardly likely to leave his delivery to the Dawning Parlor purely to his own initiative. She stepped aside just enough to let him pass and followed a few steps behind him.

It was up the corner stairs and down a gallery dotted with almond-shaped windows. The Dawning Parlor faced predictably, due east. It was a small room and only for private receiving.

His mother was sitting in several layers of fine garments, but not yet her dress of the day. Snow rabbit fur was draped over her shoulders and hung down like snow from a drooping eave. A very slight breezed stirred the fur just enough to flicker with pallid light.

"A, my dear. You look unwell."

Inri came an sat opposite her.

"It is natural of course," the queen continued. "For a young man to celebrate the event of his majority. I know you do not tell your mother everything that you do."

[Oh dear. Because I more or less do. I only leave out the parts I think you would find tedious. Until very recent;y of course. And I am inclined to think that might be a mistake.]

The amulet warmed slightly in his hand again. He was, belatedly, getting the idea that was how it warned him that his thoughts were ill-advised. Which was a realization that kept packed within it the revelation that it, or the book, or both, could, in fact, read his thoughts.*

Queen Storgie didn't seem to mind his lack of response. Inri was glad of the respite and the chill in the room which was helping clear his head just a little.

Storgie continued: "I hope you would agree that I have done my best to arrange an agreeable life for you."

The pause lasted long enough that response seemed to be required. "Of course, yes."

"So I have reason to expected…" She smoothed a small blanket over her knees. "That you will continue to have faith in my decision for you going forward."

"I… suppose. I mean, of course."

Storgie nodded wisely. "So you will understand I have a very good reason for suggesting we arrange that you are married to our guest Princess Nanteuse, as a matter of alacrity."

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* Which is undoubtedly more commas than any coherent thought should contain.