The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) - Plot & Excerpts
The king had ridden to Oakdowns in no robe of office but in plain clothing, such as any man in the street might wear. Kora preferred Rexson, always, in that kind of garb, garb that reminded her of the time he had spent disinherited and hunted. The time he had spent with her. Kora had removed her bandana, for the day was hot and the fabric made her forehead sweat. She saw no harm in going without; Rexson was no stranger to her ruby. He’d first met her the day the Giver had marked her with it. At this point the two hadn’t spoken in a decade, and when Kora and Rexson found themselves alone, he told her, “It’s always a joy to see you. Always, no matter the circumstance.” Kora sighed. “I wish I could say the same. It’s always a crisis that brings us together. Some horror or other.” “The occasions may turn more frequent soon enough, and more pleasant, if my suspicions are correct.” Kora sent him a questioning stare, so he said, “Your Kansten. My Hune.” Kora paled. “That isn’t possible.”
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