A Hunger Most Dark novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: The Feast

The Guild Feast fell on the first night of harvest, and every house in Halvarrow came to the hall.

Three hundred merchants sat at long tables under garlands of wheat.

I sat at the high table, and Lenore sat at my left in a dark green gown with sleeves to the wrists and a collar to the chin.

She had chosen it herself, and it was the first thing she had worn since the pledge that was not grey.

I had not been able to stop looking at her all night.

"You're staring," she said into her wine.

"I'm checking my property."

"Of course you are."

Down the hall, the Master of the Scales sat among his friends and looked at the tablecloth.

He had not looked at me once.

Corwin Rooke came up the aisle between the tables and bowed to me with his hand on his heart.

"Lord Ashkarr. May I greet my sister?"

"She's at the table."

"Len." He kissed her on the cheek, and I watched her hold perfectly still for it. "You look well. He's feeding you, I hope?"

"Your concern is touching," Lenore said.

"I only want what's best for you." He smiled at the guests who had turned to look, and raised his glass. "To my sister, happy and well kept!"

A few people laughed.

I did not.

Lenore put her fork down very carefully, and the knuckles of her hand went white against the cloth.

Corwin drifted off to his own table, and the music started.

Keep reading free with an account. Start A Hunger Most Dark from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.