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Page 164
if it could. Later, because of her reaction, she wondered whether she had really seen the Queen hesitate before she lifted the young man to his feet and kissed him.
The caress was affectionate more than politic, and Alinor realized that this was the youngest of the brood, Lord John, the favorite who had turned against his father when he saw the old eagle was failing. He could not have been more different from his brother. Richard had taken his father's coloring and the height of his mother's kin. John had exactly the opposite heritage. He was short and broad, like Henry, and dark of hair and eyes like his mother.
John had raised his voice to greet Simon, whom he knew very well, and Alinor heard him speak. It was the most surprisingly thing yeta beautiful voice, rich and sweet and smooth. The greeting was both warm and courteous, and Simon replied in kind, smiling. Only Alinor knew Simon now, not only the expressions of his face and voice but the tales told by the stance of his body. She had felt relief when Simon responded to Lord Richard; she felt apprehension anew now. Simon's voice was smooth, his face was pleasant, but his body was poised, the shoulders tensed as if he were ready to ward off or launch a blow.
That, of course, was impossible. It was only Simon's unconscious response to his dislike and distrust of Lord John, and it communicated itself to Alinor to reinforce the shock John's glance had given her. Nonetheless, she found her eyes drawn back to the Queen's youngest son. There was a deadly fascination about him, a kind of black charm that in the end might draw one as a willing sacrifice into that rapacious grasp.
A new fear, bred by the Queen's slight hesitation in greeting this youngest of her fledglings and Simon's peculiar behavior, seized upon Alinor. Ordinarily she would never have thought of herself in connection with John. Her estates were rich, but not a dower for the

 
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