The Dragon Lord's Daughters. Bertrice Small
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Averil stood up quietly, her fingers sliding over her telyn’s strings in a brief finish. Her sisters quickly took up a more spritely tune thereby distracting the others from Averil’s departure. Following her mother, she left the hall. “Where are we going?” she asked her parent.
“To your chamber in the tower where you dressed earlier,” Gorawen replied. “The lady Argel and I prepared it for you and your bridegroom this afternoon. You will have privacy for your wedding night, daughter.”
“But what of Lord Mortimer and his son?” Averil inquired.
“They will sleep in the hall,” her mother responded. “There are bed spaces that are clean and ready for visitors. They will be just as comfortable there. Besides, the guest chamber is needed that you and your husband consummate your union. Merin will not allow you to depart until he is certain it has been done, Averil. He would not allow Rhys FitzHugh any excuse to repudiate you.”
“I do not think he would do such a thing, Mother. He is an honorable man,” the girl said as she had earlier.
“Truly honorable men do not kidnap innocent maidens, daughter,” her mother said sharply.
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