Queen Shalia smiled at her son as she poured tea in his cup. "You have lost a lot of weight, Auril," she said in a lilting voice. Her hair was a deep amber mop of waves that cascaded to her waist and her eyes were just as blue as his.
Her son had inherited those features, except the looks. His father's portrait in his mother's room was the only portrait in the villa and sometimes Auril marveled the uncanny resemblance he had with his father. Other than his black hair and green eyes, he got his straight nose and high cheekbones, which were so jagged that they seemed to cut the air around him. Auril's gaze traveled from the portrait to the mantle under which the fire was burning giving a soft buttery glow to the room. And right there over the mantle, he looked at two new stuffed heads of stags. He clenched his fists.
Shalia's gaze tracked every breath he took. She chuckled and said, "Those are the latest gifts from Orla." She passed the cup to him.
