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there is some urgent reason to go, we will follow the court until October ninth, at least." |
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A black cloud passed over Henry's face, and he bowed stiffly to Rhiannon and moved away. |
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"Was that wise, Simon?" Ian murmured. |
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"Yes, because he thinks now that we do not yet know or believe what is planned for Richard. I gave no promise. We may leave tomorrow if we choose." |
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Rhiannon shook her head. She had recovered from the momentary sense of claustrophobia that had nearly choked her when she saw what seemed a threat of imprisonment. "I must sing for him again," she insisted, "and also promise to return to his court in the future. Otherwise he will be bitterly angry and hurt, and what good my father hoped I could do would be turned all to evil." |
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But Simon was angry still. "Jewel in his crown," he muttered, "you are none of his." |
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"Indeed I am not. He is an artist in his soul, but not a creator. He does not mean ill, only desires to draw into himself what he lacks. Yet, not being a creator, he cannot understand that to bind the art is to destroy it." |
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"Then perhaps it is not wise to tempt him?" Ian was uncertain. Would it be worse if Rhiannon left at once or sang again, as tacitly promised, and then openly refused to perform a third time? Henry had a horrible tendency to agree to somethinglike Rhiannon's leavingand then keep putting it off from one day to another until it never happened. |
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"I am near certain I have an answer that will satisfy the king," Rhiannon offered. "Certainly it will not anger him more than departing without leave or farewell. Let me try." |
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