 
### Sorrows of Adoration

### A dreadful apprehension seized me as I walked towards the sound...

It was a folded and sealed piece of paper with the words "Deliver Immediately to Princess Aenna" on one side, in unfamiliar handwriting. I cracked the seal and read the note.

"Your Highness," it read, "His Highness Prince Kurit graciously requests that you meet him as soon as you are able in the courtyard." That was all. There was no signature nor other indication of the author of the note, though I knew it was not Kurit's handwriting at all.

I puzzled at the strange request and then thought perhaps Kurit was up to some silly surprise or game. Perhaps he had some gift for me in the courtyard, though that would be a strange place to give a gift to a woman with child on a cold, windy night. I had no notion as to how long the note had remained undelivered in the kitchen, but the idea that the poor man might have been waiting out in the cold for me for some time prompted me to hurriedly rise and fetch a cloak.

There was not a great deal of snow on the ground, as we had been fortunate enough to have had a mild winter so far. There were, however, small drifts about the shadowy areas, and the whipping wind gathered bits of ice from them to be tossed into my face, making it difficult to see. I pulled the cloak around me and looked for Kurit, but the ice-wind and sudden darkness after being in the well-lit palace conspired to blind me.

I stumbled down the steps towards the gate when I heard a voice that I did not recognize call my name softly. I turned to the sound, which came from the south, in the poorly lit end of the courtyard by the smokehouse. I could see no one there, so I called out, "Kurit?" but there was no response.

A dreadful apprehension seized me as I walked towards the sound. This was unlike Kurit, and if he thought he was being amusing he was sorely mistaken. I tugged my cloak tightly around me and shivered as I stepped foolishly towards the dark corner.

Just as I realized that I could make out figures standing in the dark, one of them lunged at me and clamped a hard hand over my mouth.

### Other books by Kimberly Chapman

Gaia Series

Finding Gaia

The Power of a Blush

~

Non-fiction

Flexible, Edible Stained Glass

Cute and Easy Turkey Cakes

### What reviewers are saying about Kimberly's books

### Praise for Sorrows of Adoration

Five Stars

This is a very enjoyable tale that readers will relish... The queen is a delicious villain who readers will love to hate. Author Kimberly Chapman is a gifted storyteller who will be tomorrow's superstar in the fantasy romance sub-genre.

—Harriet Klausner, Amazon's #1 Reviewer

Five Roses

Sorrows of Adoration is such an aptly named story. The emotions were such that I often found myself overwhelmed by them and having to step away from the story for deep breaths to regain my control. I have never read of a heroine as honorable, intelligent, and proud as Aenna is... I was so enthralled with Aenna, Kurit, and Jarik that I truly never wanted the story to end, yet when it did I wiped my tears and smiled for a well written tale that took me away to a time long ago and a place far away. For an emotionally, romantically, and suspensefully wonderful read, I definitely recommend Sorrows of Adoration.

—Vikky, A Romance Review

I laughed, felt love, and shed a few tears

It's a curious thing to read fresh and candid prose, and gradually discover that what you're reading is half fairy tale and half steamy modern romance. Aenna has grace and courage. Her sense of humor and perspective add an engaging touch to this first-person narrative... Ms. Chapman's words flow easily and convincingly, carrying the reader along with the tale as it unfolds with slow grace. I laughed, felt love, and shed a few tears. She attacks a few social issues with great vigor, leaving ideas to mull over after the story closes. If you enjoy a compelling romance, I strongly recommend Sorrows of Adoration.

—Jeanette Cottrell, eBook Reviews Weekly

An unusual romance

It is filled with strife, and gives a view of how hard relationships can be if someone is against the union... The characters are so realistic, I cried... For a book you won't soon forget, try Sorrows of Adoration.

—Angela Camp, Romance Reviews Today

Will pull at your heartstrings

Kimberly Chapman has written a wonderful fantasy tale with Sorrows of Adoration. This retelling of the old Cinderella tale will pull at your heartstrings as you read of the trials and travails Aenna must face as she deals with the Queen's cruelty and plots against her time and time again. This is not an easy story to read as Aenna deals with everything thrown at her, but it is something I highly recommend.

—Chere Gruver, ParanormalRomance Reviews

One of the best historical romances I have read

Ms Chapman just captures the reader's emotions and lures them in this story. The emotions run high and you cannot help but find yourself speechless with the outcome. This story tells the reader of one woman's sorrow, sadness, happiness, love, and heartbreak all in one book. It was awesome. That is all I can say to explain this page-turner. It was AWESOME and definitely a must read for anyone with romance in your heart.

—Ruby, Fallen Angel Reviews

### Rave reviews for Finding Gaia

Get this book. I promise, you won't be disappointed.

When I finished, I sent a quick note off to Kimberly (the author) saying that I found myself wanting to know more about these characters. That I considered them as simply friends I hadn't met in person. I asked if she had prequels/sequels in print or in progress and urged her to cloister herself in a room and keep writing.

If you like romances, if you like strong women, if you like great character development, if you like interesting dialogue, if you just enjoy reading a good story, then get this book. I promise, you won't be disappointed.

—Stephen Kalman "techauthor" at Amazon.com

Five stars – A wonderful yarn

This book is a wonderful yarn that spans history and present day. It borrows from the fantasy world, yet also delves into the romance world without really becoming either one, then sprinkles in a slight dash of Sci-fi to sweeten up the plot. I thoroughly enjoyed the book from cover to cover, felt that it resolved the plot well enough yet still left a solid foundation for a series.

—Bryce R. Alexander "PastorB" at Amazon.com

A must read

This is a lovely thought provoking book that is beautifully written. Fell in love with Trish as she is my kinda gal and a heroine in her own right, but Anna, the true heroine, creeps up quietly and steals your heart, as does the patient, amazing hero.

—Claudy Conn, author

Absolutely amazing

This book was absolutely amazing, and I couldn't put it down. In fact at work, while a group of us were leaving, one of my friends remarked, "I can't believe you can walk and read at the same time!"

—Kristin Plausky at Amazon.com

Five stars – This is a wonderful, fast-moving, romantic story!

A great book by Kimberly Chapman. This fantasy unfolds in real time, while giving the reader a great review of what was! It is written in todays time frame, yet the reader is left with no doubt that much of the story is in the distant past.

This is a wonderful, fast-moving, romantic story! I found it to be quite easy reading, yet moved along at a pace I could follow. I could easily recommend this book to anyone that enjoys historical romance stories.

—Charles J. Kravetz at Amazon.com

# Sorrows of Adoration

By

### Kimberly Chapman

### Copyright Page

Sorrows of Adoration

By Kimberly Chapman

http://www.kimberlychapman.com

Copyright © 2003, 2013 by Kimberly Chapman

First edition published by NovelBooks, Inc. 2003

Second edition published 2013

Edited by: Karen Babcock

www.karenbabcock.com

Cover illustration by Nathalie Moore

All rights reserved

Published in the United States of America

Smashwords edition

May 2013

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Excerpt of Finding Gaia

Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Chapman

Discover this and other titles by Kimberly Chapman at Smashwords.com:

Gaia Series

_Finding Gaia_ – <http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/180554>

_The Power of a Blush_ \- <http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/254043>

### Chapter 1

IT IS ASTOUNDING how a single evening can change the direction of one's life.

My life had been relatively simple up until my twenty-first year. I had no family that I was aware of, having been orphaned as an infant. I have heard tell that my father was a successful, even brilliant, young merchant who made a respectable living by having a knack for knowing what town would pay the highest price for what goods at a given time. My mother was just his wife, I suppose. Nobody remembered her. She may have been a wonderful woman, or perhaps a nasty one. It always troubled me that she was forgettable because she was just somebody's wife. I decided as a young child that I was not going to end up as "just somebody's wife".

Mind you, being raised an orphan in the company of other orphans under the care of priests- and priestesses-in-training at the Aleshan Temple Academy is not a good first step to making a mark on the world. Most of the orphans go on to be servants of the Gods themselves, but I was never that enchanted by the notion. I was and remain a properly religious person, endeavouring in both word and deed to follow the rules set out by the Temple. But I left their care in my fourteenth year to seek a way to be something other than just another priestess, just another girl.

I was fortunate to acquire employment as a barmaid at a fairly respectable inn along a major trade road. I say fairly respectable because it was clean, the owner was not particularly unkind, and although there were women of the sexual profession employed there, I was never asked nor forced to participate in such things—which I hear is not always the case for a young girl out on her own. And it was at that inn, the Traveller's Torch as it was called, where an event occurred in my twenty-first year that dramatically changed the direction of my life, and certainly was a crucial element in my foolish quest to be remembered.

It was a biting winter night and had been quite cold for weeks, though no snow had yet fallen. The inn was more crowded than usual, especially given that it was a slow season for trade. Every room was booked, and down in the pub area where I worked were no less than fifty customers, all packed into their tables so tightly there was little room to move. Only about twenty of them were regular customers. The other thirty or so had arrived together the day before and set up camp in the field behind the inn. I knew none of them, and I rarely forget a face, even when most of the faces I saw in my work were haggard, dirty, and drunk.

These men were not like that. Actually, they were dirty, and some were quite drunk, but they didn't have that tired look a typical travelling merchant does when he finally finds a place to rest in relative comfort for the night. They looked alert, dedicated, as if they were gearing themselves up for some great event. Some even looked inspired. Also unusual was the way the ones who were not drunk chastised those who were. I heard one of the lot, clearly some sort of leader, tell one man quite forcibly to "sober up, or you'll drag us down." That was certainly a strange thing to hear on a cold night in a pub that was far from any town.

Their odd behaviour and demeanour intrigued me, and I made a conscious effort to listen to them above the noise of the rest of the guests. I made sure to be available whenever any of them made an order so I could be closer without being obvious about it.

I heard much that either made no sense without a context or was obviously unrelated to whatever cause they seemed to be gathered for. There was mention of making sure to eat and rest well before the next night, clearly indicating that they were planning some important event for that time. Two men entered a debate as to whether it was preferable to stay up late tonight and sleep late into the afternoon tomorrow, to be rested for this mysterious event, or to rest now and prepare physically in the afternoon.

Then, as I leaned over the table to fetch empty wine bottles, I overheard a quiet opinion that chilled me: "We're better off rested for the attack, because no amount of exercise tomorrow afternoon will prepare us to slit a throat any more than we are prepared tonight."

Quickly I schooled my face and body to not show how the words had frightened me, for logic told me I would be in danger if they knew I had overheard their words. I gathered the bottles and carefully carried them away.

As soon as I was out of their sight, I shuddered and almost dropped a bottle. I chastised myself for nearly attracting attention. My heart raced, and my mind was filled with a thousand possible explanations for what I had heard. Did they intend to slit our throats? That made no sense—most of the money in the innkeeper's safe this week was paid to us by their group. I considered the other guests—none of them were anyone I knew to be important or influential. Being a rather respectable inn, we occasionally did attract wealthy merchants and on a few occasions a nobleman and his entourage. But these current customers were typical stock, and it seemed implausible that they would be the target of an organized group. Perhaps a traveller would arrive tomorrow, but again, why such a large group organized here where there were witnesses?

I realized I was standing still and knew that if the innkeeper saw me doing so he would yell at me. Worse still, I knew that I had made myself a regular presence among those men, and a sudden prolonged absence might arouse suspicion. I scurried to fetch two pitchers of ale and carried them out to be served.

Afraid to hear more but also desperately curious, I found myself focusing on the conversation of the leaders even when my back was to them as I served another table. It was some time before I heard anything suspicious again, and I began to wonder if perhaps I had overheard a jest that I did not understand.

Then behind me, in a low voice, a man proposed a toast: "To Prince Kurit of Keshaerlan on his last night amongst mortals."

I might have been only a barmaid, far removed from the world of kings, nobility, and political affairs, but I knew the name of the heir to the throne of my own kingdom, and to hear such a thing from these men filled me with a dread I had never known before. I almost spilled ale on a man at the table I was serving, but thankfully he was too drunk to notice.

Quickly, I finished delivering the latest round of ale and ran to my small area of the kitchen. In the summer, the other two barmaids and I lived in the loft over the stables, but during the winter we were allowed to sleep on cots in the warm kitchen. The other female employees had rooms of their own, but that was largely because they needed the beds for their work.

I told the innkeeper's wife, who was cooking in the kitchen, that I was going to see if any of the group who had remained in their camp outside wished to order ale or food, and she approved. In truth what I did was wrap myself in my winter's cloak and hurry outside to spy on the men in the camp in the hopes that they were being less circumspect in discussing their plans.

Indeed, I did not have to wait long in the darkness near their fire to hear them say that the outpost where Prince Kurit and his small group were staying was only about two or three hours away by horse. I knew of the outpost, having heard it frequently mentioned as a landmark along the road. I had thought it unused, since our kingdom was at peace. But these men had reason to believe that Prince Kurit and company were staying at that outpost, and they intended to kill him as part of some sort of rebellion. There was little talk of the rebellion itself—no details I could hear given as to why these men sought to rebel, why the Prince was chosen as the target, nor why I had not heard of such unrest previously.

I realized that it was my duty to inform someone of this fiendish plot against the only son of our King and Queen, but who was I to tell? The innkeeper would not have believed me, and even if he would have, there was no reason to believe he would have cared enough to risk himself. There were no noblemen nor guards nor anyone of authority anywhere nearby. I certainly couldn't trust one of the other guests to be bold enough to risk his life to flee and warn the Prince. If I wished to warn him of the imminent danger, it seemed I would have to do so myself. The thought of leaving was unsettling, but I had at no time intended to make this employment a permanent way of life. Weighing my choices led me quickly to decide in favour of my duty as a Keshaerlan.

I crept to the stables, intent on stealing a horse, but stopped short of the gate when I realized the men would undoubtedly check their horses before retiring and notice one missing. Also, the fact that I had never ridden one and really had no idea how to do so made me decide to flee on foot instead. I thought the outpost could not have been very far away, since travellers used it as the landmark before our inn. If horses could get there in two hours, then it seemed reasonable to me that it shouldn't take me very long.

The men inside were already being tended to by one of the other girls, since I was purportedly taking orders from those outside. The men outside, of course, had not seen me in the darkness. Furthermore, the group apparently planned to remain near the inn until late afternoon, that they might arrive at the outpost in darkness. It seemed that the conditions for fleeing were as good as I could have realistically hoped for.

I said a quick prayer asking for speed, my need being noble, and crept away from the inn. As soon as I was out of direct sight, I ran as fast as I could, spurred on by fear for myself and for the Prince, who surely suspected nothing of this plot.

I ran fast and hard, which soon made me quite warm in my cloak despite the frigid night air. The moon was out and, when not covered briefly by cloud or shaded by trees, provided enough light that I could follow the road. I heard noises from off the path, and my heart thumped in fear for what I had done—run off in the middle of the night with no weapon or means of defending myself against animals, thieves, or any of a multitude of horrors that no doubt waited a lone, defenceless girl. The more I tried not to think of how frightened I was of these unseen dangers, the more frightened I became, and the faster I ran.

I continued that way until my lungs were raw from breath and the sweat from my brow dripped stinging into my eyes. I slowed to a walk, wheezing pitifully, and realized that horses must move awfully fast compared to people, because I had run for a good long time and didn't seem to be very close to anything resembling an outpost. I walked until the fire in my chest subsided, and then jogged lightly thereafter, pushed on by fear for the Prince, fear for myself in the darkness, and a dread that the bandits may have noticed my disappearance and could be pursuing me at any moment.

I continued on as dawn broke and still onward as the sun passed overhead. My feet and legs had become numbed with the effort, and my head pounded with exhaustion. I had been awake since the morning of the day before and had not yet eaten dinner when I left the inn. Hunger had long since subsided into a cramp, and I tried to stretch my aching torso as I ran. Determination to do my duty as a loyal citizen of Keshaerlan as well as mortal fear kept me pressing on as the hours passed.

As the sun began its descent, I found myself desperate to rest but too frightened for even a short pause. I knew they must have left the inn by that time and would soon be on my heels. Just as I began to lose hope in my foolish quest, I crested a low hill and saw a squat stone tower joined to a cabin, with a small stable off to the side. I stopped in my tracks, stunned at the sudden realization that I had arrived. I looked behind me and saw no imminent sign of the would-be assassins, but I knew they must not be far off.

Inspired anew by the sight of the outpost, I sprinted hard to the door and banged on it furiously. There was no immediate answer, and I panicked.

What if the Prince knows of the plot and has left? I thought. What if there is no one here at all? No, there is smoke rising from the chimney—

And then the door opened. A short, elderly lady stood in an apron at the door and asked politely what I wanted.

I tried to answer, but found my parched and tired throat unable to make a sound. I forced a cough and hoarsely said, "The Prince. Is he here? It's urgent, there are men on horses coming to kill him."

She opened the door further to admit me, and I stepped inside the little cottage. At a table near the hearth were seated two men, both very handsome, one considerably larger and more muscular than the other. Both had ink-black hair, which I had heard was a common trait amongst Kydrenians, unlike the mix of reds and browns of my own Aleshan people. The larger one's hair was shoulder-length and parted in the middle. He had a moustache and beard around his mouth. The other was clean-shaven, with slightly shorter hair that was parted just off-centre on his right.

They looked at me strangely, not with fear—for what would have been fearsome about a girl in rags at the door—but with an obvious concern as to why such a girl would be at the door of a remote outpost.

I looked at them both, and realized I had no idea as to which man was the Prince, nor who the other might be. As I was exhausted, panicked, and starved, my mind dispensed with any thought of pleasantries or proper discourse, and I bluntly asked, "Which of you is Prince Kurit?"

There was a moment's pause during which I panicked anew, thinking perhaps neither was and in fact these men were part of the group of bandits. But then the larger of the two stood and said, "I am. Who might you be?"

The sound of his voice, sure and strong, reminded me of my station and I fell to my knees before him and bowed my head for a moment. Then I looked back at him and tried not to sound as nervous as I truly felt. "I have overheard a plot to kill you, Your Highness," I said. "I am a barmaid at an inn north of here, the Traveller's Torch, and there last night were gathered no less than thirty, perhaps forty men, and I overheard them speaking of slitting throats tonight. They intended to leave this afternoon, and had horses. I'm sorry I took so long, but I came on foot—"

"You travelled on foot by yourself?" asked the other man incredulously.

I thought perhaps he was angry that I had not taken a horse and felt ashamed. "Yes. I'm sorry, I have no horse. I came as quickly as I could. I ran all night. There was no one there to trust to tell you. The inn is not in a town, so there are no King's Guards stationed nearby."

"And what did these men say that makes you think they intend to kill me?" the Prince asked calmly.

"First I heard them speak of cutting throats, and I was afraid that they meant to rob us, but I heard them later quietly drink a toast to Prince Kurit, on his last night amongst mortals. I went outside where the other men were camped and listened to their plans, and sure enough many times they spoke of coming to this very outpost to kill you, Your Highness, for some rebellion, though I swear I have never heard of such a rebellion before."

"Were you seen? Would your presence have been missed?" asked the second man.

I didn't know how to answer, and my mind was too panicked and fatigued to coherently consider the possibility at that point. I felt tremendous guilt at my lack of knowledge, and bowed my head and said, "I don't know. I'm sorry. It was foolish, I know, to just run off, but I didn't know how else to warn you. I tried to come quickly, but it was so much further than I imagined, and after a while my legs, they just wouldn't move as fast as I wanted them to."

"How far behind you do you imagine they would be?" asked the Prince.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, feeling the urge to weep from exhaustion and shame. "I don't know. They weren't behind me when I knocked, and they seemed to plan to be here after dark, but I don't know if they left early, or if my disappearance was notable to them."

"Are they well armed?"

I tried desperately to think to what I had seen, but felt my mind slipping away as the floor began to feel unstable under my knees. I reached my arm out to the wall to steady myself, wanting very much to stay alert to answer their questions. I looked at the Prince again and said, "I saw a few swords, Your Highness, but most of them carried axes. Their horses didn't have armour that I saw. The men, I don't know if they had armour, but they weren't wearing any in our pub."

The two men looked at each other, and I could not tell if they believed my tale or not. "Please," I said, "You have to leave. I don't know if they're trained or well armed or even if their plan is sound, but there are two of you and so many of them. Your Highness, please, you have to flee this outpost, and they could arrive at any moment. I'm sorry, really I am, to have burst in here with an incredible tale but you must believe me—I did not imagine what I heard, and it was repeated enough to not have been misunderstood. I know it is terribly rude of me to come here unannounced and tell you to leave, but..." I could not think of what else to say, and stopped my own babbling before they thought me a complete fool.

They started talking to each other in low tones, and I prayed that they would hurry up and leave. I realized I too had to flee, knowing full well those bandits would not suffer me to live for having warned the Prince. I tried to turn and reach for the door in hopes of running out to the now dark woods, perhaps to find a place to hide and rest overnight.

The old woman saw me reaching for the door and said, "Where are you going, girl?"

I tried to look at her, but my eyes would no longer focus. I closed them and said, "I must take my leave so the Prince can prepare to escape." Closing my eyes turned out to be a poor idea, and I found myself unable to open them again. I heard the old lady say "ridiculous", but I didn't know whether she meant me or my story. I tried to reach for the door again and felt myself slumping against the cold stone floor. I fought against the fatigue, desperately afraid I would be left behind to die, but I could no longer tell what direction I was facing, let alone where the door might be.

I felt myself being lifted from the floor and managed to open my eyes enough to see the Prince himself lifting me. My mind cried, No, there is no time, and I tried to tell him to hurry up and leave, to go to a safe town, that I was just a silly barmaid and not worth wasting the time over. I wasn't sure if I spoke aloud or not and worried greatly that, because of my weakness, he might remain too long out of chivalry and be killed for it. But I could fight the fatigue no more, and a sea of greyness clouded over my eyes as he carried me.

* * *

When I awoke, I was cold despite being under two heavy blankets. I found myself on a thin pile of straw in a cart that was not moving. The other man who had been with the Prince was gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me. He softly said, "Wake, good lady. Please wake up." When I looked at him, he said, "Sorry, I don't know your name."

"Aenna," I said hoarsely, my throat still dry from the run and now numbed from sleep.

"Aenna, the men you saw have reached the outpost. We can see it burning from here."

I sat up and looked where he pointed. We had travelled downhill to the south, and indeed I could see the outpost at the top of the path, glowing brightly against the night sky.

"We have only two horses, so we started off with you and Gilaela in the cart, but by now the assassins know we have fled and will surely follow the tracks of the cart. It is too slow to pull it behind us, so you, Gilaela, and the Prince must share the two horses between you and flee faster. I shall go on foot—I know the way, and I can go through the woods without a horse. They won't think to do the same, so I shall be safe and you three can move faster," he said.

I saw that the Prince was seated on a horse already, wearing a great flowing cape embroidered with his crest. The old woman sat uneasily on the other horse.

"I'll slow them down," I said. I didn't know where I would go otherwise, but I was determined not to allow my weakness to cause the Prince's death. "I can go off another direction on my own. You shouldn't be pausing to worry about me."

"No, I won't hear of it," said the man who had woken me. "You saved our lives, and I don't think any of us wish to see you crawl off alone to die in these woods. You're in no condition to flee alone."

"Come, ride with Gilaela," said the Prince. "The horse is used to carrying Jarik here, and can manage your weight with hers. We will be able to ride fast enough."

"No," I said, shamed at my defiance but intent on allowing the Prince to escape without my encumbrance. "They are on our heels, and I won't be responsible for slowing you down. You'll barely make it as it is. I can go off another direction, and perhaps slowly enough to lure them away." I realized what I was offering as the words came from my mouth, and my heart thumped in my chest. I was offering to be killed, and the idea was unsettling, to say the least.

I was, I admit, relieved when the man the Prince called Jarik wouldn't hear of it.

"Certainly not! Men of honour do not use defenceless girls as decoys!" he said.

"Indeed," said the Prince. "But your bravery is appreciated."

"Go with Jarik, dear," said the old woman. "You'll be safer with him than on your own."

"Only if you're sure you won't come with us," Prince Kurit said.

"No, I'll be fine. Forgive my boldness but go, Highness. They could come down the path any moment, and I could not bear to be the reason you slowed your flight." I worked my way out of the cart and stood with the blankets clutched around me, watching my breath turn to fog in the cold night air.

"Yes, go," said Jarik. "We'll find shelter for the night off in the woods and start a journey back to Endren in the morning. We'll see you back there in a few days' time."

The Prince nodded, and the two horses were made to hurry off down the path.

I noticed Jarik had been laden with several packs, no doubt of supplies and gear for a trek by foot through the woods. I offered to carry something, since he was clearly being quite kind by allowing me to join him, but he refused, saying I must still be exhausted.

"In the morning, perhaps if you're up to it you can carry a portion of the gear. For now, we must hurry to get far off the path and find a safe place to camp for the night," he said.

The trees were thick on either side of this part of the path, but Jarik said the western side would be easier to follow eventually, since the road lay at the western foot of the mountains after this valley. We hurriedly entered the woods, Jarik in the lead.

The darkness was thick and blinding in amongst the trees, and I felt very afraid. I was able to follow Jarik only by the sound of him walking in front of me, occasionally whispering to be careful of a low branch or warning me of a root I might have otherwise tripped over. Though I was still tired from my earlier journey, fear and adventure filled me with new energy, so I was able to keep up with his pace rather well.

I lost track of how long we walked or what direction we travelled, but we eventually came across a rocky ledge with a hollow beneath it. Jarik suggested that we hide out in the hollow until the light of day, and I had no reason to argue. He apologized that he didn't wish to make a fire, but I assured him that I understood it was only logical to not attract such attention. He placed some rocks over the pack that held food, and we each took one of the blankets I had carried and wrapped ourselves in it. He bade me to crawl into the hollow first, so I nestled myself against the rock tightly to allow him as much room as possible. He positioned himself at the mouth of the hollow, sitting upright, drawn sword in hand.

It may sound silly, but seeing a man like that, ready to defend both me and himself, gave me great peace. I no longer felt afraid. The bandits would no doubt chase the Prince, and for him I worried, but for us I no longer feared. I was able to fall asleep quickly and deeply, and my poor exhausted body was glad of it.

### Chapter 2

THE CRY OF a bird in a tree overhead woke me, and I found myself stiff, sore, cold and completely disoriented. I sat up, thinking I was in my cot, and in doing so bumped my head soundly on the rock above me.

Jarik was already awake, searching amongst the food pack for something edible for breakfast, and saw me bang my head. He leaned over to me and asked if I was hurt. I remembered where I was and all that had happened, blushed as I rubbed the small bump growing under my hair, and said, "I'm fine. I forgot where I was."

"I know the feeling. I almost rolled over onto my own sword last night. Wouldn't that have been heroic, to escape a pack of bandits only to impale myself in my sleep?" he asked, chuckling. I smiled at his good humour and gladly accepted the food he handed me. It was preserved meat on slightly stale bread, but I had not eaten in so long that it was a feast to me.

"Your name is Jarik?" I asked as we gathered the packs to head off.

He looked at me strangely for a moment—I assumed because he had forgotten that both Gilaela and the Prince had spoken his name the night before—and then nodded. "I'm the Prince's cousin," he said as I emerged from the hollow.

Realizing such a relationship meant he too was royalty, I started to kneel. He stopped me and said, "None of that now. I don't need it, and we don't have time for such things." He handed me a very light pack to carry and started down the slope of the valley.

I told him I could carry more, and he said that he wasn't about to ask a lady to travel across rugged terrain as a packhorse.

"I'm hardly a lady, Lord Jarik," I said, trying not to sound flippant. Abbottess Mercia was forever rapping my knuckles for being flippant. "Until yesterday, I did work for my living."

He looked back at me with a jovial smile. "I know you're not a lady of the court, but you did, after all, travel a great distance to save our lives. That, in and of itself, deserves some measure of respect. And what I carry isn't heavy. Not yet, in any regard. And don't call me 'Lord'."

"Forgive me," I said in earnest. "By what title are you known?"

"Jarik will do for now, and I shall call you simply Aenna, since you say you are no lady," he said, winking like a rascal. I laughed at his teasing, for it was clearly that, and followed him down the side of the valley.

* * *

For many hours we walked amongst trees and rocks through the valley. Though the air was crisp with winter's impending chill, the sun shone brightly overhead and I was not too cold. We kept up a steady pace, and Jarik was kind enough to ask frequently if I needed to rest. I rarely did, and when we did stop, I did not feel guilty of it because he seemed to appreciate the repose as well.

We spent much of the time talking of many things, and I grew to like this man very much. He was pleasant, polite, good-humoured, and a little silly, which I admit I found quite endearing. He was so unlike the men I knew from working at the inn. Not that they were all ruffians, and some indeed were very sweet, but this man was like those of the bards' songs—handsome, elegant, and well-educated, and yet he seemed to enjoy my company. Me, the little peasant girl, in the company of royalty. What a notion!

I learned that he was not quite a year older than myself, and his cousin only two years older than he. It seemed strange to realize people of such high status were close to my own age.

He frequently referred in his conversations to great writers, poets, and other thinkers who seemed always to have something to say about, well, everything. I was suitably impressed at first, and then I wondered if perhaps he was trying to impress me, which in turn made me wonder as to why a man of nobility would seek to impress a poor girl such as myself. I told myself I was being silly, that this must be how the nobility speak at all times—poised, informed, and proud to show it.

Yet he was not poised at all times. He would often make a wry comment and then wink at me mischievously. The wink would inevitably be followed by a roguish smile that always made me laugh. This was how we remained throughout the day—laughing, chatting, and forgetting that we were supposed to be fleeing for our very lives.

But the truth of the matter was that there seemed to be no sign of the would-be assassins. The few times I thought of them, I was filled with worry for the good Prince and the Lady Gilaela, a title which made Jarik laugh—he said calling her "lady" was like calling one's nurse a Princess. Having not had a nurse, I didn't know what he meant, but his infectious laughter made me giggle nonetheless.

Jarik seemed to catch on quickly when my mood turned to worry and often assured me that the Prince would certainly be safe. In the evening as we sat to eat, he tried to convince me that they would already be safe at Endren.

Endren—it seemed a strange thing to be headed there. It was the capital city of my kingdom, yet I had never imagined going there. What reason would I have had? I was neither a trading merchant nor nobility, no one who would ever have reason to travel to Endren. And yet there I was on my way, and with the cousin of the Prince no less. I must reiterate that fact, for every few minutes it reoccurred to me and my insides would feel shaky, my heart would flutter, and the spirit of adventure and living what was suddenly a remarkable life would make me smile broadly. Then I would blush, feeling so silly, and if Jarik spotted my red face, he would favour me with a gentle little smile that made me blush even more.

At dusk we found a great, wide fir tree under which to sleep. The lowest branches swept the ground at their ends, but were a good deal off the ground near the trunk. A perfect little shelter, so long as it didn't snow and weigh the branches down further. The ground smelled of cold and pine needles. I wrapped the blanket tightly around myself and tucked a corner under my cheek so the needles wouldn't stick my face as I slept.

* * *

We woke early again and were off, after picking the needles from our hair and blankets. This new day was a cloudy one, and it was harder to be so cheery with the threat of possible snow. A cold wind had arrived, and blew through my clothing unpleasantly.

We spoke of less jovial concerns that day, with Jarik occasionally referring to some matter of politics of which I was usually unaware. I would always ask him for an explanation, which seemed at first to surprise him, as if he had expected me not to take an interest in such things. He would patiently explain the issue to me, never once with a hint of condescension, and once he realized I was happy to talk about weighty matters, he began to ask me my thoughts on them. Had he been smug, I would have been reluctant to offer my opinion, as I would have feared it would sound silly. But his continued kind and polite demeanour served as inspiration to discourse, and the talk was enjoyable even if the subjects were not always cheerful.

At one point, I asked him if he knew why someone would want to kill the Prince.

"There are always those who wish to do such things," he said gravely. "It is a fact of royal life. Are you aware of what Raen of Daufrae attempted several years ago?"

I nodded. Everyone in Alesha knew the story of how the Lord of the small Aleshan city of Daufrae had been exiled for threats made against King Tarken. Lord Raen had claimed to be a direct descendant of King Korreg, Tarken's great-grandfather. Raen claimed that Korreg had had two sons: Tarken's grandfather, King Tursk, and some man named Reshtaen, whom Raen claimed was his own grandfather. Despite the fact that no record of such a man existed, Raen asserted that Reshtaen was the true heir to the throne as the eldest son but was tricked out of his birthright because he had been born to a poor Aleshan woman that King Korreg had bedded before his marriage to Queen Shantakh.

Raen thus claimed the throne was rightfully his, and threatened to take it by force if King Tarken did not acquiesce. Of course, King Tarken dismissed the man as a fool, but when a cousin of Lord Raen's was caught trying to sneak into the palace kitchens with a packet of poison, Raen was exiled from Keshaerlan. It was said that he escaped execution only because there was no direct evidence to indicate he had been part of an assassination plot, and he claimed his right under the law as a nobleman to be spared execution in the absence of evidence.

These things were common knowledge, spoken of in taverns and pubs and inns, and I knew the story well. "But that was many years ago," I said.

"Yes, and it is certainly unusual for murderous desire to infect a sufficiently large group to actually present a threat. I do not know what the cause of this particular group is, but I am sure that the truth will be revealed once we're back in Endren."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because any group that large and that dedicated to murder will have left clues to their crime along the way. Even if not one of the bandits is captured to be questioned, the King's Guard will determine their path and deduce the rest."

"Yes, I suppose if their behaviour in the pub was any indication, folks in other places may have overheard their plot as well."

Jarik smiled at me in a way so marked with affection and appreciation that I felt myself blush. Then he said, "Thankfully, there was at least one brave soul who did something about what she heard." I blushed deeper at these words and was thankful when he soon turned the conversation back to less pressing topics.

When we stopped for our noon meal, Jarik set a small trap and caught a rabbit. I offered to skin it for him—that having been one of my less than pleasant but typical duties at the inn—but he insisted on doing it, saying that it suited a man of the court to occasionally have to provide for himself in this way. He cleaned the carcass and carefully wrapped it to be cooked later.

The snow began to fall lazily from the sky in the early evening, advancing the darkness by at least an hour. We were lucky to find a cave—or rather, a wide crevasse in the side of a rocky hill. Jarik said it was better than a large cave, which would probably already have an occupant that would not appreciate our presence. I agreed in mind, but as we crammed ourselves through the split in the rock to the narrow hollow behind, my heart longed to sleep comfortably and for the luxury of a bath. Oh, how I have always detested feeling dirty, and there I was with several days' worth of dirt and sweat covering me. My clothes had been worn but still in respectable shape when I left the inn; now they were torn and looked truly ragged. My hair was a disaster, and trying to keep the smaller wisps about my face or the ends of the wrapped braids from flitting about my eyes and nose was quickly becoming a tiresome task. But I did not complain to Jarik, lest he should think me unable to continue and regret allowing me to accompany him.

For the truth was, and I knew it then, I greatly enjoyed his company. I was happier during this struggle of a journey than I had ever been in my life, all because of this good man. As much as I longed to be indoors where it was warm and clean, I feared the end of the journey, since it would inevitably mean we would part ways. I was, after all, a mere peasant girl, enjoying the temporary company of a nobleman, but temporary it certainly had to be.

We ate the rabbit after grilling it to a succulent crispness over the small fire Jarik built with flint and tinder along with twigs and wood I had gathered for him. As we ate, the snowfall increased, gradually building up to a veritable blizzard. It seemed unending, piling up at the edge of our shelter, threatening to bury us alive. Jarik would kick the pile down the slope of the hill, but it grew in spite of him. He reassured me that it would not bury us, that the pile would fall outward and not seal us in, and most of me believed him.

We stayed awake longer than we should have, watching it fall. Then, within the space of a few minutes, the snowfall stopped. We were glad until we realized that nature had traded the snow for a sudden drop in temperature, and despite the fire, we became very cold. We both huddled and shivered in our blankets, but as it got colder it became impossible to sleep. I heard Jarik's teeth chatter even over the sound of my own.

Jarik sat up suddenly and looked at me, his face lit by the red glow of the fire's coals. "Aenna, this is silly. We're going to freeze to death like this. I know this sounds awfully impudent, but would you consider sharing the blankets and staying warmer beside one another? I give you my solemn word as a gentleman that I shall not abuse your trust. I would never accost you in any way, I swear it, and I also swear not to tell a soul so that your good name would not be sullied by the rumour and innuendo of idle tongues on our return to Endren."

My heart thudded in my chest. He was so forthright, so bold, and yet so eloquent. In truth, I wanted to consent immediately because I was so very cold, but I made myself appear to consider his request. I looked at him, and the thought of lying beside him made me blush. I was glad of the red light of the coals, knowing that it would mask the colour of my face. I schooled my expression to one of practicality, and agreed, telling him I believed his word as a gentleman and hoped that he did not think less of me for accepting the offer.

"On the contrary, I think you're wise to put appearance of propriety aside for reasons of survival. We'll both sleep better for this," he said softly as he moved to me, put his blanket over me, and then crawled underneath both of them.

I lay on my right side, my arms folded across my chest as my teeth continued to chatter. He faced me, close but not quite touching except where his own arm crossed his chest. His left arm was folded under his head as a pillow. He shifted briefly to pull the blankets up to my ears and tuck them around us both, and then he lay back down. Our arms before our chests were pressed together, and once he accidentally knocked his foot into mine and apologized. I said it was no concern and smiled at him as I began to finally feel some small warmth from being so close. He smiled back and whispered, "Sleep. I swear you shall be safe."

"I know," I whispered back, because I did. I completely trusted this good man. I had no reason not to. Had he wanted to accost me or take advantage of me, he could well have done so many times over, knowing that I would have no defence but to run away, likely to my death. There would have been no punishment for such crimes when we reached his home, for his word against mine would have suffered no contest. But I didn't trust him merely because he had not abused me thus far—I trusted him because he seemed to genuinely care for me. He asked my opinions, went to great lengths to ensure my comfort where he could, and made a point of reassuring me even when it was unnecessary. I had never experienced such kind concern before, and it touched my heart.

He fell asleep first—I could tell so by his light snoring. I found the sound to be soothing—if he could sleep so soundly, things could not be entirely bad, I reasoned. And the rhythm of his breath was constant and relaxing. I found myself dreaming of loving such a man and quickly banished the notion from my mind.

Silly girl, I told myself, he is so far above you in station, you should be glad if he lets you mop his floors when you get to Endren.

Indeed, he had spoken several times of rewarding me for my warning at the outpost, and every time I insisted I needed no reward. I didn't. I could find work in Endren and make a life for myself, and I intended to do just that. I thought perhaps if he continued to insist on reward, I might be persuaded to accept a new change of clothes, a bath—oh, how I desperately wanted a bath!—and perhaps a meal to set me on my way. But I wouldn't consider that a reward if it were offered; it would be an appreciated act of kindness on his part.

Yet that thought of having feelings for this good man who slept beside me was hard to banish entirely. I prayed that if the Gods saw fit to reward me for doing my duty—which should not necessarily be rewarded—that they might bring my way such a good man closer to my station. I tried to imagine such a man and discovered he had Jarik's kind face, his smile lines, his bright eyes and layered dark hair. I erased the image and tried to replace the face with another, but Jarik's visage kept breaking through the image, right down to that bit of hair in front that was too long and hung over his eye.

I chastised myself. I had to stop myself from thinking such things before I went and spoiled what pleasant parts there were to this otherwise difficult journey. I reminded myself of the cold, hard fact that this man was the cousin to the future King, was no doubt betrothed to a refined and elegant lady of court, and was probably simply being polite to the dirty little peasant girl in order to have a more pleasant journey himself.

I fell asleep telling myself repeatedly that allowing my heart to get involved with anything about this man was a foolish notion, one that would undoubtedly result in great pain.

* * *

In the morning when we woke, we looked out upon a world blanketed in white. It looked beautiful for the first few moments, until I remembered that we would have to walk through it; then it lost its charm. Jarik leaned against the rocky wall, sighed, and suggested we wait to see if the sun would come out and melt it away.

"Only if you care to wait all winter, which I certainly do not," I grumbled, seated at the mouth of the crevasse. Our words had that softened, muffled sound that always comes from speaking whilst surrounded by snow.

"We can still make it to Endren. I still know my way, and we have enough food that even if we aren't lucky enough to get another rabbit, we shall not starve. But I am concerned for you," he said.

"I'll be fine. It's just snow," I replied.

"I know, but your boots look so thin. Do they remain dry inside?"

"No, of course not. Why, do yours?"

"Well, yes," he said. "That's the point of good boots, to keep your feet dry and warm."

"I suppose I've never had good boots."

"You shall have some when we return. I shall see to it," he said, kicking aside the snow that had drifted at the entrance to our shelter.

"I need no reward, Jarik. I—"

"You were only doing your duty. I know. You keep saying that. Well, I consider it my duty to ensure that you at the very least are properly outfitted before you leave the palace. That is, if..." He paused, then stammered, kicking idly again at the snow, "That is, if you want to leave."

I wasn't sure what he meant. Was he offering me work at the palace? I dared not hope for it and certainly dared not ask. I chose to say nothing rather than risk saying something absurd.

He turned to me, seeming to expect a response. When none was forthcoming he continued awkwardly, which was quite different from his usual elegance. "Because, you know, there is no one who would make you leave. Not after what you did for me. And the Prince. The Prince, of course, you saved his life. He, well, he's unlikely to forget that. In fact, I can assure you with certainty that he won't. And he'll definitely want to reward you whether you want it or not."

Again he looked at me as if expecting a response, and again I was afraid to say anything lest I should appear presumptuous.

"Well, regardless of that, that's days off and we should start moving, if you think you're able."

I nodded, because truly I was saying yes to his seeming offer of employment.

"But your boots. Aenna, the snow will melt under your feet and make them wet. You'll catch your death of cold. We have to do something about them."

I looked thoughtfully at the thin, cloth boots. The leather soles were almost worn through and had already been patched from the summer. I looked back at Jarik and confessed that I didn't know what to do.

He stared at my feet in thought for a few minutes and then looked to the pile of gear beside him. He bent to the pile and set about putting the contents from two of the smaller bags into one of the larger ones. One of the smaller bags was really a large leather pouch with a thin leather cord to close it. The other was made of heavy burlap. He knelt beside me in the confined space and slipped the leather pouch over my foot. It fit, albeit awkwardly, and he arranged it so its bottom corner was over my large toe. He asked how that felt, and I stammered, "I suppose it's fine, but—"

He held up a hand to silence my rebuttal. He took the pouch off my foot and removed its tie cord. He cut the cord in half with a knife and rethreaded half of it in the pouch's holes. Then he placed it back over my boot and tied the small cord around my ankle. There was barely enough of the cord to make a knot, but he managed to do so, and asked if it was too tight. I shook my head, and he immediately set about putting the burlap sack over my other foot, and threading the remaining piece of cord through the burlap's weave to tie it similarly.

He bade me stand and walk, so I did feeling silly and awkward but dearly appreciative of his efforts. The Temple folk who had raised me as a child had cared for my well being but never with such intense concern and effort. I was so touched by his efforts my throat felt tight, and I found myself fighting silly, girlish tears.

He had me walk about, as much as our tiny shelter allowed, and he decided the burlap was too loose and I might trip on it. He looked through the packs to find something to wrap it tighter with but found nothing. Then, to my shock and dismay, he began tearing a piece of his own cloak.

"No, don't do that!" I cried, stopping his hand, though the tear was already begun.

"Aenna, we can't have you falling, nor can we have you freezing to death with wet feet. This is just a cloak. I'll get a new one when we're home." He looked at my hand on his arm, and I realized I was being very bold in touching him so. I went to pull my hand back when he placed his other hand over it gently. I looked at him and found that he was looking at me with great concern. "Aenna, really. It's the least I can do. Please, sit."

I sat back down and watched as he tore a strip from the bottom of his fine cloak. The strip was wide and long, and he was able to wrap around my foot several times, like a dressing, tightening the burlap and giving me an extra layer of protection from the snow. He wrapped it slowly and carefully, being sure to pull it snug and asking me frequently if it was too tight, then adjusting it accordingly.

I stood again and walked out to the snow. It was amazing—I couldn't feel the dampness at all. The foot with the leather pouch was colder but would probably stay dry longer. I looked back at him and said, "Thank you."

He nodded and smiled at me. Then he picked up the remaining packs and handed me one to carry, and we were off.

We spoke little on that third day of travel, as the snow was shin-deep and tiring to trudge through. In some places, drifts were hip-high and we had to assist each other through with the packs. In the afternoon the sun shone down and warmed our upper bodies, though our legs and feet were still encased in cold.

No shelter was found that night, and so Jarik and I dug the snow away from a large rock with our hands. We took turns, as only Jarik had gloves. They were awkwardly large on my fingers, but it was sufficient protection to pull away the snow. We managed to carve out enough that we would be sleeping on frozen ground instead of wet snow, ate quickly, and slept sharing the blankets once again.

In the morning Jarik tried to be cheery, but in pointing out that we would likely reach Endren in two days more, he inadvertently depressed me. On one hand, I was sick of the cold and the dirt on my skin, and on the other, I didn't want my time with him to come to an end. My attempts to keep romantic thoughts at bay were failing more and more with his every kind gesture, smile, and word. I grew sad to think that it was likely I would not see him again, or if I did, it might be worse to watch him marry a lady of court, knowing I could never win the heart of such a man. These thoughts occupied my mind and made me feel hopelessly lowly and insecure.

Jarik sensed my melancholy mood and kept making little jokes to force me to smile. I did every time and even laughed once or twice, but the very fact that he went to such efforts and seemed so concerned made my heartache worse. I abandoned hope of preventing my feelings for him and instead concentrated more on keeping them from him. I might have been falling for him, but I decided that there was no need to embarrass myself in doing so.

After a pause to eat and a failed attempt to catch something for a later meal, we continued walking along the increasingly rugged terrain. As we crested the rocky hills, we could see the entire mountain range stretching far to the east, and the green valley to the south where Jarik said Endren was situated. He explained this was why he had chosen to go west of the road in the first place, for if we had gone east we would be scaling true mountains instead.

The sun shone overhead, but a cold wind prevented its warmth from reaching us sufficiently. It was, however, enough to heat the top of the snowdrifts so they melted slightly, only to be quickly refrozen by the winter wind. A crust of ice was thus formed over the snow, and walking was difficult. We had to crunch through the thin ice, and frequently in doing so our shins would collide with broken edges. Jarik earned himself a particularly nasty scratch on the inside of his left knee, right above where his boot would have protected him, of course. He insisted it was fine, but I made him sit on a rock and tear another strip from his cloak, which I wrapped around his knee as best I could with numbed fingers. The frigid air helped to numb the wound as well, and we were able to continue.

As we walked along a sloped ridge down the southern face of a hill, I almost slipped on the ice because of the smooth surface of the leather pouch on my foot. Jarik caught my arm, preventing me from going over the edge, although the fall would not have been far enough to kill me. His effort left my shoulder sore from being yanked, but it was certainly better than a broken limb from a fall. The worried look upon his face was touching as he helped me back to my feet. I could not help but smile at him, only to blush immediately thereafter.

Closer to the bottom of the ridge, the slope increased drastically, and Jarik bade me go first, that I might hold his hand behind me in case I slipped again. He anchored himself by grasping a protruding tree root and helped me ease myself downwards. I did not slip, and he was able to lower himself behind me. I led us down the ridge thereafter.

When we were about a man's height from the bottom, the rock of the ridge disappeared, leaving only ice. Unfortunately, we did not know this until I had stepped on it, breaking through and sliding down the hill to land in a snowdrift at the bottom.

Jarik cried my name out so loudly that it echoed between the hills. As I picked myself out of the drift, he came rushing down the hill, half stumbling, until he was at my side, panicked. He quickly asked if I was all right, and his face was so pale with concern that I could not help but laugh.

"It's only snow, Jarik. I'm fine!"

I was about to continue brushing myself off when he pulled me towards him and held me. Before I had a chance to enjoy the sweet embrace, however, it was over and his hands were on my shoulders, his eyes staring at me in worry.

"Are you sure? You fell so hard! You should sit—we should make sure you haven't injured yourself," he babbled.

My heart raced from his touch, and yet I could not let him see how much his tenderness meant to me. I made myself laugh again, hoping it did not sound forced, and said, "Really, Jarik. Your concern is kind, but I just slid into snow. We peasant girls are not delicate, fragile flowers."

He let go of my shoulders and stepped back. Putting forth a smile but clearly still worried, he said, "I'm starting to realize that. You're the strongest lady I've ever known, peasant or otherwise. You're one of a kind, Aenna."

I blushed at his compliment. "Hardly," I said, starting to walk again. "It's just that poor girls can't waste their time being pretty and proper like your court ladies." I stopped, realizing how rude I had been in my attempt to seem nonchalant about his compliments. I turned and said, "Forgive me, that was rude. I didn't mean to—"

He waved off the apology. "You speak the truth, and I know it, Aenna. There's no need to apologize for it."

"But I said it based on rumour and the very few ladies I've seen stop by the inn. It's awful of me to make such statements of things outside my experience. I am sorry."

"Well, the rumours you've heard are true. Court ladies do spend their time being pretty and proper, sitting up very straight in their tight corsets," he said, standing tall as if to mimic them.

"Corsets?"

"Yes. They've been the fashion around the palace since I was a boy. Wretched things, really. It's a garment of cloth and wire and rope that the ladies must have their servants squeeze them into, lacing it up tight in the back."

"Why would they want to wear such a thing?" I asked, trying not to seem rude again.

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't try to understand women's fashions. My father says it's supposed to make them appear thinner and more graceful, but I know he hates them as much as I. Most of those ladies are already willowy—they hardly need to be squeezed any smaller. Mother says it's proper—it holds one's back straight and prevents proper ladies from exposing their seductive curves to eager men. I don't know what that's supposed to accomplish. Dancing with ladies in corsets, it's as if they're in bandages from some great wound. So stiff and unable to move. Father told me once that he remembers in his youth when the fashion was loose dresses, and when he danced with ladies he could feel their hips moved as they..." He stopped himself and blushed. "Forgive me. I shouldn't say such things in a lady's presence."

I smiled and said, "I told you. I'm not a lady."

"Perhaps not like one of the tea-sipping, court variety," he said, mimicking dainty hands holding cup and saucer, tipping the imaginary cup delicately to his lips. We both laughed. "But, Aenna, you are a lady. You're very brave and noble in your actions. Birthright or not, you're a lady in my estimation." He turned and continued walking, and thankfully didn't look back to see how deeply I was blushing at his kind words. Blushing was becoming so common to me that I wondered if my face would soon give up and remain red!

That night as we slept close together again, I found myself unable to sleep despite the soothing sound of his breath. I dearly wished to lean my head forward that it might rest on his shoulder, but I dared not for sake of propriety and my own sanity. I knew by that time that I loved him, and the pain of knowing it was a love that could never be fulfilled sent my emotions on a chaotic ride of alternating delight in his company and depression at knowing we would soon be separated. His consideration of me as a lady was sweet, but once we reached Endren I knew all too well that I would cease to hold such esteem, perhaps even in his eyes, and he would no longer be simply Jarik, but instead Lord Jarik, cousin to the Prince, nephew of the King.

My heart fluttered when I recalled how he held me when I fell or his worried face when I slipped. Then it sank as I imagined him returning to his station and I to my own. Such madness kept me awake until just before dawn, when finally I managed to sleep long enough to continue walking the next day.

* * *

The fifth day was windy but not as cold, yet the blowing snow slowed our progress. Our food supplies were almost gone, and we had been rationing small meals since the day before. We decided not to wait for a trap to snare something else, as we simply wanted to return to civilization as quickly as possible. Jarik promised me a great feast on our return, and when I started my now traditional refusal of reward, he cut me off yet again and said, "You will be a guest and treated as such. And my family will be happy to see me safe, so they'll no doubt have a wonderful meal prepared on our return."

"Do your parents live in the palace as well, then?" I asked.

He gave me that same confused look that he did whenever I asked about anything personal, and then, as always, collected himself and answered. "No, my parents are deceased. I meant my cousin's family, who are also my family, you see."

I shuddered to think that this good man was without a proper family, as myself. I considered offering sympathies but did not wish to sound trite. Instead, I avoided the subject and asked, "So you live with your cousin's family all of the time, then?"

"Yes," he replied. "Since Kurit has no siblings, I suppose I am next in line to the throne after him, so I have been raised alongside him." Jarik spoke awkwardly, and I assumed it was merely an uncomfortable topic. I set about speaking of other things as we continued our trek.

We crested what seemed to be the last of the rocky hills on our route just as a magnificent sunset coloured the sky. I stood facing the west, admiring the spectacle of fiery lights reflecting off the bottom of the few clouds that drifted lazily overhead. Jarik stood behind me. After a moment he put his hand gently on my shoulder and bade me look south.

There I saw in the distance the walls and towers of Endren, reflecting the deep reds and oranges of the sunset. The city was surrounded by green hills and glowed there like an iridescent jewel. The size of it astounded me, even from that distance. It was all I could do to whisper, "It's beautiful."

I stared at it for some time and then looked to Jarik to see if he was gazing fondly at his home. Instead, I found that he was staring at me.

"Jarik, you're not even seeing how lovely it is," I said.

He turned briefly to glance at the city and said, "Home always looks beautiful when one is hungry and cold."

"It's more than that," I said, looking at it again. "I've never seen a city. Not a large one with walls and towers. I always pictured them as imposing and dreary. Endren is lovely, at least in this light."

I felt him touch a stray lock of hair that had been blowing in my face all day. I looked at him again, and my heart leapt in my chest at the expression of tenderness in his eyes.

"My attention seems to have been stolen by a lovelier sight," he said, and I felt as though my knees had become water. He held my hair gently, letting the wind roll it from his fingers. "Your hair, it's like spun copper in this light. I've never seen its equal. The women I know, their hair is dark as night. I've admired the colour of yours by daylight, Aenna, but it is now more enchanting than anything I've ever beheld."

I stood very still, fearing that if I even breathed, I would fall. These were words fit for a bard's love song, and this man whom I had tried not to adore was speaking them to me. As my heart soared, he moved his hand from my hair to my cheek. He touched me with such tenderness, caressing my cheek so softly, that I lost the ability to withhold my emotions. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek into his hand.

When I opened my eyes again, he was gazing at me, and my heart fluttered anew. "Everything about you is like nothing I've ever known," he murmured. "Never have I met a lady so strong, so brave, and so very beautiful."

I know not why my mind chose that moment to blurt out, "I'm not a lady," but that's what I said, feeling a fast guilt for ruining his perfect words with my bluntness.

He put a gentle finger to my lips as though to silence any further self-depreciation. "You may have been born a peasant, but you are nobler than any lady I've met, Aenna." His hand moved under my chin and raised it slightly as he moved to stand quite close to me. Before I knew what was happening, my eyes had closed, this man was kissing me tenderly, and the world spun about in my mind.

An eternity passed—or a second, I could not honestly say how long it was. But when his lips left mine, I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me with great affection. My heart raced such that I thought it might burst from my chest. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks. Speechless, I could not resist as he pulled me close to him and kissed me again, sweetly but harder than before, with a passion that made me dizzy in his arms.

He moved the kiss to my cheek, to my forehead, and then held me tight, and I found my arms clinging to him as all the feelings of attraction I had suppressed during our trip overwhelmed me. The whole of the King's Guard could not have pulled me from his arms in that moment. My head rested on his shoulder, his arms around me and one hand stroking my hair. I imagined that he must be able to feel how my heart pounded against his chest, but I didn't care! I didn't care in that moment whether any of it was proper or unseemly or right or wrong. The love I had felt over this short journey, which might as well have been a lifetime, all poured forth into that embrace, and it frightened me and exhilarated me and made me believe I could fly right off that cliff if he asked me to.

Then I heard him whisper, "I should build you a fire. I can feel you shivering."

"I'm not cold," I replied, barely able to speak. "I'm warmer now than I have been since leaving the inn." My words sounded so absurd, and I was embarrassed to have said them.

"Then why do you tremble? Please tell me I haven't frightened you," he said in a voice rich with affection.

"I'm not frightened. I... I don't know why I'm trembling. I didn't even know I was. I'm sorry. I've never felt..." I stopped speaking before I said something silly again. I knew I must have sounded like a child desperately trying to recite romantic poetry.

"Surely someone as enchanting as yourself has not gone unkissed?" he asked softly, pulling away enough that he could look at me again.

"I was a barmaid," I said, looking up at him. "The women who work in the inns do not allow themselves to be kissed unless they have more than kisses to sell." I could have hit myself for sounding so uncouth. I wondered where in Keshaerlan my mind had gone.

But he was not put off by my words. "Noble, brave, and virtuous, too," he said, smiling. "You are a rare find, good Aenna."

He kissed me on the forehead again, and then apologized if he had been too bold. "If you wish me to leave you alone with the blankets tonight, I understand, for I did promise to be a gentleman, and now here I stand with you in my arms, kissing you like a scoundrel. And yet look," he said as his hand touched my cheek softly again. "I am unable to stop." He stepped backwards, letting his hand drop from my cheek to grasp my hand. He lifted my hand delicately and kissed it.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't wish to be silly and let either of us freeze in the night. I also didn't wish to appear indecorous and agree to lie beside him. Additionally, I didn't like appearing indecisive about the matter, lest he think I was leaning one way or the other when both decisions held such potential repugnance.

"You look upset. I've upset you, haven't I, with my boldness? Aenna, I'm truly sorry, I was swept up in the moment with your beauty—"

"Please," I said, unsure from where the words came. "Please don't be sorry." My heart was on the verge of breaking if he should regret the kiss, but I couldn't tell him that. I could not be so bold. How ironic, that he thought me so brave and bright, yet my mind was shaken to pieces by a simple kiss.

Then I noticed he was at an equal loss for words. "I'm not sorry, but I am, well, sorry for being so bold." I found his stammering endearing, for it must mean he was as delighted and alarmed and as confused as I. "Not for the kiss, unless if offends you, because if it offended you than I would be sorry for that—"

And that's when I seemed to have lost my mind entirely, for I did something so brazen, so unexpectedly forward that to this day I don't know what demon or deity inspired me. As he rambled apologetically, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to him, smashing my lips hard against his and kissing him with every dream of passion fuelling the rush. I believe I startled him as much as myself, for at first he threw his arms into the air in surprise. Then he wrapped them around me and returned the kiss, igniting my entire being with desire and longing and love.

As the kiss ended and I fell into his embrace, he held my head against his shoulder again and said, "I'm not sorry. Not in the least."

I realized what I had done and stepped back, ashamed of myself. I could not speak; it was all I could do to breathe. We stood like that, facing each other two paces apart, silent, for some time. He must have heard my thoughts of shame, for eventually he said, "Don't be sorry, either. It wasn't wrong. It can't have been."

I felt my face turn red and could look at him no more. I turned my eyes to the ground and worked my hands into a knot. He approached me and took my hands, parted them gently and held them in his own. I looked at him, and he seemed like he was going to say something but then didn't.

"I trust you," I blurted out.

He seemed confused but said, "That's a good thing."

"I mean, I trust you, with the blankets." I paused until he understood what I meant, that we could still share the blankets and not have to freeze for propriety's sake. "Does that make me..." I trailed off, unsure what word I wished to use to describe my concern that he would find me indecorous.

"No, not at all," he said softly, squeezing my hands in emphasis. "I can still be a gentleman. I... you... we'll be..."

"Just sleeping and staying warm," I said.

He nodded. Again we stood frozen for some time, locked in each other's gaze. My heart pounded so loudly now, I wondered that it did not echo in the hills.

He let go of my hands and bade me take his arm, just like a lady of the court. I could not help but smile and blush at being treated so kindly, and allowed him to gently guide me to our shelter for the night.

### Chapter 3

WHEN I WOKE THE next morning, Jarik was already awake, sitting nearby watching me. I looked at him, and he smiled back me.

"We should reach the gates of Endren by mid afternoon, if the weather is kind to us," he said.

I stretched and sat up. Smiling back at him, I said, "A bath. That's all I want right now, more than food or mended clothes, or even a soft bed. I really want a bath."

He laughed and said, "At least it's been cold. Can you imagine how we'd stink travelling like this in summer's heat?"

"Ugh," I grunted, wrinkling my nose at the thought.

"The guards would smell us before we were even in sight." He chuckled.

I wrinkled my nose even more and replied, "Don't even mention it. I couldn't bear to be that filthy. This is bad enough, and there's been snow to wash my face."

We ate the last of the preserved food, little that there was, packed the gear, and headed off. The sun was nowhere to be seen, and snow had fallen during the night, adding a powdery layer over the ice crusts we had battled the day before. As the day warmed slightly, the powder became wet enough to give us better traction as we walked, and our steps made loud creaking noises.

Once we were down that last large hill, we could no longer see Endren, but we were clearly passing through farmland surrounding the city. We came to long fences cutting across our path, and a few times were able to make out farmhouses in the distance.

The approach made me worry again for the Prince, and I said to Jarik, "I hope the others returned safely."

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "Jarik's one of the wisest and mightiest warriors in Keshaerlan. He can care for himself."

I stopped walking. I thought I must have misheard, but still I said, "You called him Jarik."

Jarik stopped and turned back to face me, wearing that confused look again. As usual, he quickly composed himself and said, "Did I? I must be tired from lack of comfortable sleep and decent food."

There was something wrong with his dismissal, and the fact that he'd kept looking out of place in such a fashion ever since our journey began. "No," I said. "You said it casually, as if that was his name."

A brief look of panic crossed his face as he stammered, "I'm half out of my mind with hunger and fatigue, Aenna, really—"

"No," I said again. "That's not it. Look at you, you're like a boy with his hand caught in the pastry cupboard." He looked as though he was struggling to think of something to say, and I started to feel queasy as I put the pieces together. "He's not the Prince, is he? I knew the plan seemed foolish. I knew it. It made more sense for the Prince to flee on foot and hide himself on the way home while the other would be a decoy, but I didn't say it because who was I to question your plan? But you knew that. You both knew what you were doing, and he's the decoy, which makes you..."

My heart felt as though it had stopped dead in my chest. I could not catch my breath in the moment that I realized I had not been travelling with Jarik, cousin of the Prince, but instead with Prince Kurit himself. It all made sense, how he spoke oddly of himself with a confused look when I would question him—he had to think about it, for he was pretending to be his cousin.

I fell to my knees at the foot of my Prince and future King, ashamed of myself for everything that had occurred, from my open discussion of everything we had ever talked about to allowing him to kiss me.

He came to me immediately and pulled me to my feet, brushing the snow from my knees. "Don't do that, Aenna," he said. "You'll freeze in the snow!"

I looked at him seriously, one of his hands still on my arm from having lifted me to my feet. "I'm right, aren't I? You're Prince Kurit."

He seemed about to deny it, or explain it, but opted instead to simply say, "Yes."

A rage filled my mind. I shook his hand from my arm and walked away from him. I thought, How could this be? How could I have not known, not realized the obvious truth sooner? What a fool I am!

"Wait, Aenna," he called, and I stopped but did not turn to face him. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. But Jarik claimed to be me when you asked at the outpost because, well, because that's his duty. You could have been coming in to kill me. Of course you weren't, but had you been then you would have gone to strike Jarik instead. That's his role, at the moment, to ensure that I live.

"Then you fainted, and on the road we decided to do as you say was wise, to have Jarik wear my cloak and serve as a decoy while I went to fend for myself. I would have revealed myself to you then, but Jarik had planned that you would go with him, and if you were leading us to a trap, knowingly or not, he would then be taken to the trap instead of me. But you insisted on not slowing him down. He wasn't going to drag you along against your will, and I wasn't going to let you go off on your own, because truly we did believe you to be good. We just would have been fools to not take precautions." He approached and tried to look at me, but I kept my face turned from him. "Aenna, really, we didn't think you were lying, and we didn't mean to lie to you—it was just prudent, given that we didn't know you."

"I understand that," I said, shock, dismay, and fury bubbling inside me dangerously. "I would have recommended the same course of action in his place. But..." I had started to say there was no reason for the lie to have continued, but I was too furious to put the words together. I started towards Endren again, my footsteps hard and loud in the creaking snow.

"Aenna," he called after me, "please don't be angry with me. I was going to tell you the truth."

I stopped again and spun myself back towards him. "When?" I cried, too upset by then to keep my tongue. "When we arrived at the city and the guards recognized you?"

He was clearly at a loss for further explanation and held his hands out plaintively. "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Splendid," I spat in fury and started again to storm away.

He ran to catch up with me and put himself before me. I did not stop walking, just lowered my head to not look at his face. He matched my steps walking backwards, placing his hands on my shoulders, trying to stop me. I refused to look at his eyes, knowing well that if I did I would burst into tears. That was the source of my anger—the knowledge that I had made a fool of myself in thinking my silly dreams that such a man might love me, a poor little peasant girl. Those dreams were now as the wind, fleeting and gone, and I was hurt and angry for it.

"Aenna, please," he said, finally managing to stop me, but failing to make me look at him. "I'm sorry. Truly I am. Please don't be angry at me for what I had to do."

Under my breath, such that it was barely audible to either of us, I muttered, "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand." I tried to pull myself free, but his hands remained gripped to my shoulders as he tried to make eye contact with me.

"What wouldn't I understand? Please, I'm truly sorry."

"Sorry that the poor peasant girl wasn't willing to give up more than a few kisses?" I snapped, finally looking into his eyes. I saw them widen in shock at my words, but I was too enraged to have the sense to stop speaking. "Just because I'm poor, alone, and have nowhere to go doesn't mean I'll be your tawdry little tart!"

He stepped back, letting go of my shoulders, and it was obvious my words had cut him. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, and I cursed myself inwardly for them. This was no time to weep like a weak little girl.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, clearly aghast at my accusation. "That I was trying all along to seduce you?"

I could look at him no more, not with the look of shame and pain in his eyes. I put my hands over my face to hide the sight of him from myself and to hide my now freely flowing tears from him.

"Is that what you truly think?" he asked, his voice pained.

"Why else would you show me affection?" I said quietly through my hands, ashamed that I had spoken so rudely to him. My anger gave way to great heartache, a deep agony that I had allowed myself to dream of a future that could clearly never be.

He came to me again, laying a gentle and tentative hand on my arm. "Because I meant it. I meant every word I said, and the affection of my kisses was real. Whether my name is Jarik or Kurit does not change that."

I looked at him through my fingers, feeling a greater shame than I had known possible. I wished desperately that the snow beneath my feet would melt into a river and carry me away. My throat was tight, and fighting sobs, I barely was able to whisper, "But being the Prince changes it."

"How?" he asked. He tried to pull me into an embrace, but I stepped back from him. "I'm the same man I was last night. I still find you enchanting."

I dropped my hands to my sides in frustration, the cold air stinging my wet cheeks. How can he go on like this, I wondered, playing this game that is tearing at my heart? "Until we reach the palace gates," I said, "and then you'll realize you've had an infatuation for a dirty little peasant girl, and you'll send me merrily on my way."

"No. No," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. You saved my life."

"And I told you I expected no reward. It was my duty."

"So you keep saying. And I deeply admire that. I do. You are a remarkable woman, Aenna of Alesha. I spoke honestly when I told you that I had not met your equal. And it matters not to me whether you're the poorest peasant girl in the kingdom, or the daughter of the wealthiest lord. I know some very wealthy, beautiful, eligible maidens that I utterly detest. I am enchanted by you for who you are. You amaze me."

"Stop, please." His words were kind, but they cut my heart like a cruel blade, for I knew that despite his good intentions, I would not be allowed to love him as I already did.

"No," he said again, loudly this time, with a force behind it. "I will not stop. I adore you. Please, don't push me away." With that he embraced me, and though I wanted to back away, I found myself allowing him to hold me as a fresh batch of tears poured forth from my eyes.

"But it can't be," I said. I felt so stupid and pathetic to weep so, but I could not seem to stop. Never before had I felt so weak, but then, never before had anything moved me the way this man did. "Why are you breaking my heart? Why do you insist on pretending that you could have feelings for me that could last, when we both know full well that the Prince cannot love a peasant?"

"Under what law?" he asked, pulling back to look at me again.

"The law that makes you the heir to the throne, and makes any woman that you—" I could not finish. I dared not say the words, lest I reveal the future of which I had indulged myself to imagine the night before.

His expression lightened as he understood me. "Any woman that I marry must eventually be Queen?" I lowered my face quickly, ashamed that I had implied such a thing. But he would have none of it and tipped my chin up. I tried to avoid his eyes but became locked in his gaze. His expression was of tender concern. "Aenna, is that what these tears and this anger is about? That you worry that I could not feel affection for you because I must marry a woman worthy of being Queen?" I said nothing, too ashamed and hurt to speak. "Is that why you're so upset?" he asked tenderly.

I closed my eyes, overpowered by the intensity of his look. "Forgive me, Your Highness, I didn't mean to sound presumptuous," I whispered, my throat locked. I tried to gulp the lump away but gave up and whispered again, very quietly, as if it made my thoughts less shameful. "When you kissed me last night, I foolishly allowed myself to dream of a future with you. Now that I know you are not Jarik, who I already felt so far beneath, but in fact the Prince himself, I know I am unworthy of such a future, and my foolishness leaves me broken-hearted and ashamed."

"Oh, sweet Aenna," he said softly as he pulled me back into a tight embrace. My head was on his shoulder, and as the night before, he cupped it tenderly. "You are worthy," he said intently, kissing my forehead after he spoke. "You are more worthy than any woman alive. I would not have allowed myself to develop this adoration for you otherwise. People cannot travel together as we have these past days without having an idea of what the other is truly like. There has been no time for pretence, no energy to spare for silly charades or games of courtship. And you have demonstrated yourself to be brave, strong, even fearless. Never once have I seen you shy away from danger. You have not asked for help—indeed, you have offered your assistance. You gave up your entire life to alert me to a danger, though you did not even know me. You have shown dedication to your kingdom and to me, both as a Prince and a man with whom you travelled. If these things do not make you worthy of respect and affection, I cannot imagine what would."

He lifted my face with both hands and brushed away my tears with his thumbs. Then he kissed me, not with the jubilance that he had the night before, but with a deliberate and intense passion. I could not help but return it, loving him already as I did. When he embraced me again my tears continued to flow, but I didn't know what to feel. I was unconvinced of my alleged worthiness and certainly doubted it would be believed by anyone else. But I was also filled with relief that it seemed he had not been manipulating me intentionally, and deep inside me lurked the desperate hope that he spoke the truth.

"Please, Aenna, I'm sorry I did this to you. It was unfair. I should have told you who I was, if not days ago then at least before kissing you last night. That was wrong—I know it now. I just wasn't thinking. It was foolish and irresponsible, and I'm honestly sorry for that. But, please, give me a chance to redeem myself. Let me prove to you that I was not infatuated by convenience, by the fact that you were simply there. Please say you'll give me that chance, that you'll still come to the palace with me."

What was I to say? Deny that which I desired above all else? Refuse to forgive him, when I already had? I could say nothing.

He raised my face in his hands again, this time kissing away my tears from my cheeks. Then he looked at me, expecting an answer.

Still unable to speak, I nodded slowly.

"You'll give me a chance then?"

I nodded again, although I was already putting my heart in a safe place within my soul, since I suspected that once we returned he would brush me aside in favour of a more worthy choice. But none of these thoughts did I betray to him, neither in expression nor word.

He was delighted that I had agreed to give him a chance, and he kissed me again, as he had the night before, merrily and with an ease of spirit. I tried to return it in kind despite my doubts.

Happily he grasped my hand and said, "Let's be off then, shall we? And, please, no more tears. Aenna, it breaks my heart to see tears on the cheeks of such a strong woman. I promise, I shall prove to you everything I've said. You shall see soon that I am sincere."

* * *

I tried to cheer up as we walked hand in hand towards the city. I was unable to entirely hide my concern from him, though—that much was clear from his behaviour along the last stretch of the journey. He was as he had been that first day, roguish and full of jests, trying to make me smile, and his very silliness often made him succeed. Still, my heart was heavy with the fear that it would all soon end.

When the city walls came into view, I stopped. Kurit stopped with me, still holding my hand in his own, and asked what was wrong.

I looked at him worriedly. How could I explain that despite my concession to allow him to demonstrate his affection, I doubted very much that he would do so? Beyond those walls was not a bright future with this man as he promised but inevitable sorrow, and I was afraid. He had told me I was worthy of him because I was so brave, and yet there I stood, fearing so much.

He misinterpreted my worry. "Aenna, we're safe now. Guards stand ready at that gate to escort us to comfort and safety. They are probably expecting us to emerge from the wilderness any day now."

Wonderful, I thought. Guards stand ready to take us to the palace where I shall be told, 'Thank you very much, now please don't make a scene on your way out.'

My continued silence and refusal to continue walking seemed to worry him. I thought, Ah, now he'll see that I am not so brave and bold as he imagines. Now he shall realize how wrong he was and reconsider his feelings for me. Here begins the end, I told myself.

Instead, he touched my cheek softly and smiled at me with great compassion. "Our future is bright, Aenna. I know it's a new world for you, but I'm here to help you into it." Then he kissed me, and I didn't know whether to be overjoyed, deeply touched, or despondent.

When he tried to pull me along again I went, forcing my feet to move as opposed to trying to explain to him my tumultuous emotions.

We approached the northern gates to Endren just as the cloudy sky began to show signs of impending darkness. It was a busy gate, with all manner of people entering and exiting the city, some on horseback, some in traders' caravans, and some on foot pulling carts behind them. Several guards stood questioning those who entered, and scribes were at hand, no doubt recording what goods were being imported and exported for tax purposes. Archers stood watch atop the walls, surveying the commotion below.

Kurit gave my hand a gentle squeeze and winked at me. "We'll sleep in soft beds tonight, our bellies full."

"After a bath," I said, trying to seem happy.

"Indeed. You'll enjoy a hot bath with scented salts to wash with."

That, at least, was a pleasant thought. I tried to relax as we approached the gate. Within a few paces of the guards' station, I heard a robust voice cry out, "The Prince returns!"

The assorted folk near the gate moved out of the way at the announcement, and an armed man sporting the King's crest on his armour stepped forward quickly. He bowed to Kurit and said, "The Temples be blessed, you have returned safely." Then he looked at me, saw my hand in Kurit's, and bowed his head again. "My Lady," he said, clearly not knowing what to say after that.

"This is the Lady Aenna of Alesha, who has travelled with me after bringing me news that saved my life," Kurit said in a clear, proud voice that made me smile and blush. Then he pointed to the man in the crested armour and told me, "This is Graek, Captain of the Endren Force, the guards that protect the city."

Graek bowed again to me and said, "Lady Aenna, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." He rose again and turned to Kurit, which I was glad of, since I could feel my face warming and suspected I must look like an overripe tomato.

"Highness, Lord Jarik returned several days ago with the maid Gilaela. He went back out immediately with no less than a full battalion of the King's Guard to seek those that plotted against you."

"Has he returned?" Kurit asked.

"Yes, Highness. They met with the wretched rogues along the road and slew most of them on the spot, capturing the rest for interrogation."

"Were any of our men hurt?"

"Only one, Highness, and he is already recovering. The bandits were unprepared for our forces, I've been told. Several other groups of men have been sent to search for you, but Lord Jarik forewarned them that you would be attempting to hide yourself."

"Are they still out?"

"Yes, Highness, but of course they'll be recalled as soon as possible now that you've thankfully returned safely on your own."

Kurit nodded. I had turned to face him, trying to hide my blushing face, which was finally fading. Our hands were still entwined, and I tried not to let his public affection steer me away from my determination to withhold my heart in doubt of the bright future he had promised. In fact, as we stood, I had noticed a man coming slowly through the crowd, staring at us, and felt greatly self-conscious, wondering if he saw how Kurit held my hand and disdained such a filthy girl being touched so by the heir to the throne.

"Have the prisoners been interrogated?" Kurit asked.

"I suspect so, Highness, but I have not been told of the results. I do know, however, that the rogues were of Daufrae."

"Daufrae?" Kurit asked. "We pondered the possibility, but the problem with Raen was so long ago."

"Indeed, Highness. It seems that Raen recently returned in secret to Daufrae to gather those loyal to him and hatch a mad plot to take the throne of Keshaerlan." As Graek said this, I wondered if any of the men I had seen at the Traveller's Torch had in fact been Lord Raen himself.

My pondering was interrupted as I again found myself distracted by the man who was still watching us. I peered at him around Kurit's right shoulder, wondering if I looked so despicable that I was worthy of such a stare.

Then I realized he was not looking at me at all, but rather glaring at Kurit. The very moment I wondered why Kurit's return would illicit such a hateful glare, I saw the man flip aside his cloak and lift a crossbow towards Kurit.

I remember every moment that followed in sharp clarity because time slowed to a crawl, and all sound melted into a low hum. Without hesitation or thought, I shouted in alarm and pushed Kurit with my free right arm. I shoved him hard to my left as the man fired a bolt. Kurit had not expected to be shoved, and he fell easily to the side, letting go of my hand in the erupting chaos.

I neither heard, saw, nor felt the bolt as it landed, but there it was, protruding from my left shoulder, where a moment before it would have gone through Kurit's back into his heart or lung. I stared at it, dumbfounded—still not feeling it, time still crawling.

Then as I inhaled after my cry of alarm, I did feel it and cried out again, this time in pain. I fell backwards to the ground, landing in the well-trampled snow. As the injured shoulder hit the ground I was wrenched with a horrific agony, and the shock of it made everything loud and fast again—too loud, too fast. I tried to lift my head, and before pain from the movement forced it back down, I saw guards rushing to the man who had tried to kill Kurit, the assassin's fallen form already stuck with several arrows.

My head rolled to the right, away from the pain of my left shoulder, but when I turned back to look at it I saw Kurit on the ground underneath Graek, who had no doubt thrown himself in protection over the Prince. Kurit scrambled out from beneath the captain and half crawled, half slid in the snow over to my side.

"Aenna," he cried in anguish, reaching my side and moving as though he wished to hold me, stop the bleeding, or any number of actions between which he could not decide. Panicked, staring at the bolt, he shouted, "Brave Aenna, what have you done?"

It seemed silly that he would call me brave, for I had certainly not intended to take the bolt for him! I had meant only to push him out of the man's aim and simply hadn't thought of the consequence of then being in the bolt's path myself. My act was not brave at all, but rather quite stupid.

I reached up and touched his worried face to let him know that I was not dead. It was harder to do than I thought, as I found myself unexpectedly weakened. He took my hand, pressed it to his cheek, and then kissed my palm. He leaned forward on his knees and brushed my hair from my face and kissed my forehead.

"You will be all right, dear Aenna. I swear it, you shall live," he said in anguish, which told me he doubted his own words.

I nodded slowly and carefully, trying not to move the injured shoulder. "I can breathe enough," I whispered, wanting to assure him, "although it hurts to breathe deeply and move my shoulder."

He seemed comforted, for he smiled and told me again how brave I was. I began to seriously question his understanding of the word. Kurit held my hand, stroked my cheek, and then shouted to a nearby guard to fetch a litter to carry me to the palace.

"I've walked all this way, and now you offer to have me carried," I said softly, trying to smile without wincing.

"Aenna! How can you jest at such a time?"

"Because if I don't," I explained slowly, "I might begin to cry, and I am trying very hard not to do that."

He looked at me with grave concern, squeezed my hand, and said, "You need not be that brave. Cry if you must—there is no shame in it."

"No, you don't understand," I said, feeling nauseous and dizzy from blood loss. I held my breath and closed my eyes until the feeling subsided, and then looked back at him and continued whispering, feeling quite weak. "If I cry, my shoulders will move with the sobs, and it will hurt worse. Tell me something pleasant, so I won't weep."

Just then the guards arrived with a cart and horse, no doubt appropriated from one of the people entering or exiting the city. Kurit and a guard lifted me, trying not to allow the injured shoulder to move, but movement in general made me feel ill again, and I heard myself moan in pain and nausea.

I think I must have fainted momentarily, for when I next opened my eyes the cart was already moving, Kurit holding me in his arms, pressing a cloth around my wound as we sped through the city. I looked at him, and he said, "Don't fret, we'll be there soon, and you'll be all right, I promise."

I nodded and whispered, "Something pleasant. Tell me something pleasant." He looked so worried, I began to wonder if there was something I didn't know, that perhaps he suspected the bolt was poisoned. I was afraid and wondered if the feeling of sickness could be poison and not just loss of blood after all.

"Pleasant. I can't think of anything," he said frantically. His usual propensity for eloquence and poetic words had clearly left him. Then his face softened, and he said, "I know. I will tell you about the palace gardens. Oh, Aenna, when you are well I shall take you to the palace gardens, and I promise you have never seen such a sight! A stream runs around the hedges and flowerbeds, passing around great sparkling fountains with majestic sculptures. There are little footbridges over the stream, and in the summer fish are brought in, and you can watch them swim by. And the flowers are many and of every lovely colour you can imagine. Some of them climb on trellises, where young lovers hide to steal an unseen kiss, although everyone knows that if a couple goes walking in the garden, they are seeking to do just that.

"It was built generations ago. My ancestor King Rueklin commissioned it for his beloved daughter, who was injured as a child and could not walk. He built her this garden that she might be carried out to a different part every day and enjoy the beauty of it and not have to stay locked behind dark palace walls. And I shall take you there when you are well, my Aenna, and perhaps steal a kiss of my own, if you would allow it."

He let go of the cloth momentarily to lift my right hand, kiss it softly, and then press it to his cheek where I could feel tears. I deeply moved that this good man, this Prince, was so adoring of me that he would weep.

The cart passed under a great arch, and facing upwards, I could see the pointed iron spikes of the portcullis directed imposingly towards us. The cart stopped abruptly, and I tried not to let Kurit see how the sudden jolt had hurt, but the look on his face proved me unsuccessful. I felt nauseous again and struggled to calm my stomach, knowing full well that to be sick would be unbearably painful.

A litter was brought from inside the palace. Kurit started to move me, but despite his efforts to minimize my discomfort, I cried out in pain and lost consciousness again for a moment. I awoke again on the litter, afraid to faint again, thinking that if I did I might not wake up.

The litter was carried swiftly through the palace. I wished that I could look around me to see the splendour of it, but the speed at which I was carried and my decreasing ability to focus my eyes cast everything into a blur of walls and strange people pointing and gawking. I imagine we were quite the spectacle—the Prince returning not in triumph and pride, but rushing alongside a litter carrying an injured stranger dressed in rags, bags tied to her feet with strips of torn cloth.

The rush ended in a large bedchamber, possibly meant for guests. The men who carried my litter held it beside the bed while Kurit and some unseen other moved me over. I made a cry of pain as they moved me, though I did not wish to upset poor Kurit, who was clearly in full panic by then. The choice had been to cry out or to lose consciousness again, and I was dearly afraid of the latter.

The men bearing the litter left quickly, and a tall, thin, bald man dressed in long black robes and carrying a large black satchel entered. Without question or other hesitation, he began to tend to the wound, cutting away the tattered, blood-soaked clothing.

I assumed he was a healer, and managed to whisper, "I can feel my hand. I can move it too, but it hurts."

He looked at my face for the first time since entering. "You're a very brave girl," he said with an air of authority, "but lie still now, and don't speak unless I ask you a question." He removed the clothing entirely from around the wound and began to inspect it closely.

I turned my head to the right when I felt Kurit take my free hand between his own. He looked less panicked than he had before, which helped me to relax in turn.

"This is Tash, the royal physician," Kurit said as he rubbed my hand comfortingly. "He will make you well—you shall see."

Tash began to move the bolt slowly, which naturally hurt a great deal. I turned to him and saw him poking at the wound. He looked over me to Kurit and said a single word that I think I was not intended to understand: "Barbed."

I wanted to ask if that meant it couldn't be removed but elected to follow his order not to speak. I must have looked worried though, because Kurit said, "Aenna, don't be afraid. Don't worry about a thing now."

Tash stood and started pulling things from his bag. I heard liquid being poured, and what sounded like something being stirred. He came back into my view with a small cup and began to move it to my lips.

"This will make you sleep," he said, offering me the brew.

I turned my head away, trying to keep it from touching me. I felt frantic and afraid, desperate to not be made to lose consciousness. He tried to fight me with it for a moment and then stood back and said, "The bolt's head is barbed. That means I cannot remove it without slowly cutting it out. It will hurt you a great deal, and when I have to cauterize it after, you will not be able to bear the pain. Drink this now, and you will feel nothing."

I shook my head defiantly.

He looked at me as though I were a delinquent child. "Listen to me. I understand that you're trying to be very brave, my dear, but this is for the best. If you flinch as I work you'll make the injury worse. Furthermore, I can't in good conscience allow you to suffer needlessly."

"Trust him, Aenna," Kurit said, leaning forward to brush the hair away from my forehead. "He's very skilled and very wise. I'll be right here when you wake. Everything will be fine. Just do as Tash says, please, for your own good."

My fear of losing consciousness had become irrational, and I knew it, yet there it remained. But I knew fighting it would be stupid, so I finally agreed to drink what Tash had mixed, though my heart raced in fear.

He put the cup to my lips and slowly poured as I drank. "It's bitter," he said, "but drink it all down." As he removed the cup I felt whatever he had given me take immediate effect. I began to feel as though I was floating in a warm lake, reminding me of my childhood when I would sneak away after completing my chores to swim in the springs near the Academy.

Kurit leaned over me and kissed my cheek softly. Between the drug, the childhood nostalgia, and his affection I felt more at ease, but still something in me fought against sleep. He kissed my cheek over and over and whispered, "That's my brave Aenna, rest now."

As my eyes clouded over and closed, I heard myself slur a whisper back to him, "I'm not brave at all. I'm frightened—please don't leave me alone." If he answered, I did not hear it as I drifted off.

### Chapter 4

I AWOKE ALMOST A full day later, just as the sun was setting. The room in which I found myself had a window to the south, so the bright light of the sunset reflected from the uppermost portion of my eastern wall, casting a warm glow throughout the room. It was that glow that woke me, and I opened my eyes to see a figure silhouetted at the window, looking outside.

I tried to look at my wound, but the act of turning my head in that direction moved a muscle in the shoulder, and pain flared through it as a result. I made a soft noise at the discomfort.

The figure turned and faced the bed, then quickly approached. As he sat in the chair beside the bed, he moved out of the window's glare, and I saw that it was Kurit, there when I awoke, just as he had promised.

He took my hand and said, "Careful, Aenna, you're not well just yet."

I smiled at him weakly.

"Tash removed the bolt, and he stopped the bleeding, but you lost a great deal of blood before that, and you're very weak. You must rest."

I tried to talk, to ask him if my arm would be useable, if there had been any poison, or even just to tell him that I was quite hungry, but he stopped me.

"Hush, Aenna, don't try to talk. Save your strength. You're going to be just fine, Tash said so himself. He said that once the bolt was out, he was able to stitch you up well without having to cauterize much of the muscle, which means you should regain full use of your arm. There's nothing to worry about. You're safe here, and I'm going to stay with you, right here by your side, until you're well."

He rose from the chair and leaned over the bed to kiss my forehead. Gently, he set my hand down on the bed, went to the door on the other side of the room, and opened it. He stepped half out, said something I could not hear, and then re-entered and closed the door.

"I know you're very tired, but just try to stay awake for a little while. A servant will bring some soup in a few minutes. You need to eat something, even if it's just a little bit, to keep your strength up. Especially since we had so little food on the way home."

I could hear that he was doing something on the left side of the bed, but it hurt too much to look that way, so I just closed my eyes and relaxed. Aside from hunger, thirst, and a great fatigue, I did not feel all that poorly. My shoulder was a persistent, dull ache, and I was aware of a pungent and familiar odour from the wound's dressing. I had learned to make that numbing salve as a child from a particular variety of tree root. Unfortunately, it really only worked on the upper tissue layers, so the deeper part of my injury hurt a great deal every time I breathed deeply.

Kurit returned to the side of the bed with a cup in his hands and a damp cloth. "Here," he said, putting the cup to my lips. "It's cold water. You must be parched." He tipped the glass so I could drink but poured a little too fast, and some of the water dribbled down my cheek.

"Ah, I knew I would be dreadful at this," he said, removing the cup and patting my cheek with the cloth. It was warm and felt very soothing. "Sorry," he said, smiling at me. "Shall I try again, or do you fear I'll drown you?"

I smiled at him in return and nodded.

He laughed. "I'm a mad fool. I expect you to nod an answer, yet I ask you a question that cannot be answered by yes or no. Hopefully you were nodding that you want more water, and don't truly think I'd drown you. Do you want some more?"

I prevented myself from laughing, lest it cause me further pain, but smiled broadly and gave another little nod. He put the cup to my lips again and poured again but more slowly. When I had taken several sips, he put the cup aside and patted my lips with the cloth again. Then he sat holding my hand, looking at me with great tenderness.

"I'm sorry you didn't have the chance to have a nice hot bath when we returned, but that will come in a few days. After you fell asleep, Tash shooed me away while he tended you, and when he was done his nurse cut away your old clothes and washed you, so you shouldn't be too uncomfortable. I hope you don't mind that we discarded your old clothes, including those ridiculous boots I made you." He chuckled, and I smiled at him.

"She put a simple gown over you for now, but don't worry, I promise you'll have an entire wardrobe of beautiful dresses when you're well. And your own room, upstairs. Much nicer than this small guest room. This was just a fast place to bring you. I hope you're not offended. But then if I let you speak you'd probably tell me it's beautiful because it's not your old cot in the inn's kitchen, right?"

I nodded.

"I've only known you a few days, and yet I can predict your thoughts, Aenna." He laughed again and lifted my hand to his lips, where he kissed it delicately.

He sat quietly like that until a servant brought the soup, which he insisted on feeding me himself. Ridiculous, I thought, that a Prince should be hand-feeding a peasant. And yet the way he looked at me and touched me and cared for me with such sweet tenderness made me almost forget how far apart in station we were.

Kurit wanted to stay in the room with me all night, but Tash convinced him to get sleep of his own. As a result, he was not in the room when I awoke the next morning, but I didn't mind—it was the first time I had been on my own since reaching that outpost. How long ago that seemed, and yet it had only been a few days.

I kept drifting in and out of sleep, reasonably comfortable despite my injury. I thought of many things, but my thoughts always returned to my feelings for Kurit. He was not what I thought a Prince would be. Oh, he was eloquent, refined, intelligent, and most handsome, but he seemed to lack a certain seriousness. He had dignity, and even when he winked and made silly jests he was still articulate and elegant, but there was a playfulness about him, a need to be joyous that was not what I would have expected in the nobility. Perhaps that was why I did not suspect him earlier of being the Prince. Perhaps that was what allowed me to fall in love with him despite my low station.

I found it increasingly difficult to doubt his affection for me. Not because of the way he tended to me, but in fact because of how distressed he became when he was not allowed to continue it throughout the night. Even then, I truly believed that his reluctance to leave me was not out of fear for my health—for I seemed to be recovering well, given the nature of the injury—but instead of a desire to be with me. In the last moments that Tash permitted him to stay, he clung to my hand, as though he were being sent away for much longer than one night.

So, with this newfound sense of faith in his fondness for me, I was able to think more positively about the situation and even allow a glimmer of hope to creep into my heart.

The nurse brought me lunch, and still I had not seen Kurit. I wondered if he was all right and asked the nurse if she had seen him. She said she had not, but she would inquire on my behalf.

After I finished eating—which I had discovered was a great joy here, the food being magnificent!—Tash came to check my wound and informed me that Kurit had not slept in his own bed since our arrival. Thus, he was understandably exhausted and had been left to continue sleeping all morning long. Then Tash ordered me not to fret about him. Tash seemed to be rather fond of giving orders.

I was tired, comfortable, and had a full belly, so I fell asleep easily after Tash left.

When next I stirred I did so because I heard the sound of hushed voices in the room. I opened my eyes to see that in the far corner stood Kurit and someone who appeared to be Jarik. I first identified him in my mind as "the Prince" but quickly corrected myself.

"Kasha will not approve," Jarik muttered.

"I don't care," Kurit whispered with a hard edge to his voice. "She was always mad to think I'd consider Sashken."

"If this is what you truly want, then you know I shall support you, but—"

"But nothing," Kurit whispered. "I'll handle my mother."

Jarik looked about to reply but noticed that I was awake. "I apologize if we disturbed your slumber, good lady," he said, nodding to me politely.

Kurit turned to face me and smiled upon seeing that I was indeed awake. "Good afternoon, fair Aenna." He went immediately to the chair by the bed and took my hand, just as naturally as he had the day before. "I'm sorry I wasn't here this morning for you."

"You needed sleep yourself I hear," I said. "Don't make yourself ill worrying for me."

"I seem to recall you worrying for everyone but yourself in the same fashion when last we met, Lady Aenna," Jarik said. His manner was warm and friendly, yet his face yielded no matching expression.

Kurit laughed. "Give her a moment, and she'll tell you she's not a lady, right Aenna?"

I smiled. I had not actually been about to say it, but indeed, I had thought those very words.

Jarik smiled, but somehow it seemed pained. I surmised that perhaps he was tired if he had only just returned to the palace. "From what I have heard told, you possess the nobility of a lady," he said.

"Indeed she does," said Kurit, a beaming smile on his face. "She is magnificent."

I felt my face turn so red it felt hot enough to boil water. I wanted to pull the blankets over myself and hide!

"Kurit, you're an uncouth rogue, making her blush like that. Don't fret, Aenna—we'll teach this scoundrel some manners yet." Jarik gave Kurit a light smack to the back of his head, and it so shocked Kurit that I could not help but laugh. It seemed that these cousins were more like brothers.

Kurit pretended to glare at Jarik, who in turn pretended to ignore Kurit and instead bowed to me deeply. "I'll take my leave now, Lady Aenna, but should this rapscallion offend your good nature again, simply summon me, and I shall take him outside for a sound thrashing."

I smiled at Kurit, who was feigning putting a hand to a sword, though there was not even one there to draw in jest. Jarik continued to pretend to ignore him and kept bowing to me on his way out of the room.

When he was gone, Kurit looked back to me, a happy smile on his face. "I'm sorry if I actually embarrassed you," he said. "But I meant what I said, and I would proudly proclaim it to the world." He reached forward and gently caressed my cheek. "With all that you've done for me, with all that you've demonstrated of yourself in such a short time, how I could not love you?"

My heart thundered in my chest. That was the first time he had used that word.

"And I do love you, Aenna. I wanted to wait to tell you, I wanted to take you out to the gardens and kneel before you to tell you, but I can't wait for that. I cannot wait for you to be strong enough, let alone wait for spring. My plans and intentions flew away when I held you in that cart. Do you remember that? I shall never forget, holding you like that, trying to stop your bleeding, your blood on my hands when it should have been my blood that was spilled. I was so terrified you would die in my arms, you can't know how that shook me to my very soul."

He closed his eyes and bowed his head as if reliving the moment, squeezing my hand between his, pressing the back of my fingers to his forehead as though in prayer.

"Did you know that I wept for you? Thoughts of strength and honour were far from my mind. I didn't care who saw me," he said, lifting his head to look at me again. "I didn't care what anyone thought. I cared for nothing in that moment but you. Nothing else mattered. That changed me, Aenna. I've many times been accused of not taking things seriously, that I jest too easily. And it's true. You know yourself, as we fled—supposedly for our very lives—I could not help but pretend it was all a game.

"But, Aenna, the game ended as you were bleeding in my arms. That was the first time I felt true fear, true loss. I've been sad in my life, as anyone has, but never have I come so close to such misery as I did imagining that I would not ever kiss you again." He paused to slowly kiss my hand. "Does that sound foolish? I feel like I sound foolish."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "I wish I hadn't put you through that."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant at all," he said, rising from the chair to move to sit beside me on the bed. He continued to hold my right hand in his left and moved his right to gently stroke my hair. "You have to stop feeling responsible for everything that goes wrong, or you'll go mad. I was afraid for you because I love you. I knew it then. I know that love is supposed to grow over time and that it's foolish to let oneself fall too deeply too fast, but none of that mattered to me at that moment because I thought that I was losing you and could only think of how horrible that would be.

"And as I watched you sleep after you'd been tended to, I knew you would live. I believed that, and I was relieved, and I thought that intense feeling of adoration would fade somewhat once you were out of danger. I suspected it had been caused by the threat of loss.

"But, Aenna, it hasn't gone away. Not even now. I love you. I know it's too soon. I know it's been only days since we met, and even though those days were as months insofar as the amount of time we spent talking and being together, still, I know I should not realistically feel this way for you. But I do. I do. I can't deny it—I won't deny it! Not unless you tell me it upsets you. I pray that it doesn't, but if it does I shall do whatever it is you want of me—"

I moved my hand to his mouth and placed a finger on his lips to stop his nervous babbling. I wanted to say something reassuring. I wanted to express to him that I understood how he felt, that I too felt emotions than were stronger than they ought to have been. I wanted to tell him that time didn't matter, that what felt right must be right and I too was overrun by intense feelings. My mind tossed about these notions, but none came forward as clear words in proper sentences. So instead I simply said, "I love you."

A look of incredulity passed over his face. "Say it again, so I know I didn't imagine it."

I touched his cheek. It was smooth—he had shaved the few days' worth of beard that had grown on our journey. Any hope of continuing to withhold my heart was shattered as I said again, "I love you."

He smiled at me, then leaned over to kiss me. I know how silly and girlish it all sounds, but my heart raced, my mind whirled, my soul was filled with every joyful proclamation of love I had ever heard a bard sing.

As he sat back upwards, he smiled again, the roguish charm making itself known once more. "I am a beast," he whispered. "Jarik should rightly give me a sound thrashing for kissing you in a bed, when I have not yet married you."

As I tried to prevent myself from pondering that little "yet," he swept away any doubt of what he meant by moving from the bed to his knees on the floor. I could see only his head and shoulders as he knelt, and it seemed absurd, but he took my hand between both of his own again and then said, "Aenna of Alesha, you have twice saved my life. My life is yours. Would you do me the honour of marrying me, that I might spend the rest of my days at your side? I owe you everything that comes, and wish dearly to share it all with you."

My throat locked, and I wept. My shoulder hurt, but I didn't care. If someone had told me two weeks before that soon I would be in a palace with a Prince asking me to be his bride, I would have called them insane. Yet there I was. I wondered if it was a dream, thinking perhaps I had bumped my head at the inn and would wake there soon, all of this passing as fantasy.

Kurit misinterpreted my tears and fretfully said, "I'm sorry—it's too soon! Forgive me if I've been too bold." He brushed the tears from my cheek, looking so worried.

"I will marry you," I heard myself say, though I know not how my chaotic mind conceived the sentence.

His concern quickly turned to elation, and for once even he was at a loss for words. He came back up to the bed and kissed me again, no longer apologizing for its inappropriateness. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, and then my lips again.

"I wish I could embrace you, pick you up, and whirl you about in delight, but I wouldn't dare cause you injury," he gushed happily.

I smiled at him. "Is that what you were discussing with Jarik when I woke?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I told him I was going to ask you to be my wife. Although to be quite honest, I didn't know I was going to do it now. It just happened. And you've made me the happiest man alive, dear Aenna."

A small sense of disquiet seized me and I said, "He didn't seem to think your mother would approve."

"I don't care what she says," he said quickly, dismissively. "I love you."

I looked at him seriously, the full impact of what had just occurred taking hold of my consciousness. "If she doesn't approve, then it does matter. It matters a great deal."

"Why? Aenna, what matters is how we feel, not anyone else."

"No, Kurit. She's not just your mother. She's the Queen of Keshaerlan. You are one day going to be King, and your choice in a wife must be made not only from the heart but with a sound mind."

"Aenna, I told you before not to worry about that. I may have fallen for you rather quickly, and certain events may have made me act faster than I otherwise would have, but I should like to think I'm not so mindless as to choose a wife that is unworthy of the position. Don't worry about my mother. She will get to know you as I have, and she'll surely recognize that you are special, that you are more than just a pretty peasant girl tugging at my heartstrings, and she'll see your potential. How could she not?"

I decided that he had been right about so many things in which I had doubted him, that this time I would believe him and not worry. I basked in the delight of knowing he loved me and that he intended to marry me. I wondered if it was wise to leap into something so fast, but I was so happy I couldn't make myself care. The worries and dangers that had set me on the path to this place were now behind me, and that was where I wanted them to stay.

* * *

The next day Kurit told me he had informed his parents of our engagement. He refused to tell me how his mother took the news, which made me suspect she did not approve, and it irritated me that he was too wrapped up in the giddiness of the moment to take her disapproval seriously. He said his father asked many questions but did not seem to object.

"He wants to meet you today," Kurit said.

"Today? I can barely stand!" Not that standing was truly the problem—I was just nervous about the entire idea and wished to put it off as long as possible.

"He knows that, Aenna, and he doesn't care. He doesn't expect you to get out of your sickbed and kneel before him. I realize to you he's the King, but to me, he's just my father. He's a good man, and he doesn't judge people for silly things that are out of their control. He's wiser than that."

"What if he dislikes me? What if I say something foolish?"

"Aenna, you're a bright lady. You'll do fine."

I sighed heavily. It was silly to try to avoid this—sooner or later I'd have to meet this man. But it was not every day that someone of my low station was introduced on a personal level to their King. I feared he would find me immediately unworthy of his son. I was not, however, about to deny it, for that would be foolish and presumptuous.

"Very well. When is this to occur?" I asked.

Kurit looked to the elegant brass and wood clock mounted near the window. "Uh, in about five minutes."

"Five minutes!" I cried. "I'm a disaster! Tash hasn't even let me have a full and proper bath yet, and my hair is a revolting mess, and I'm wearing a nightdress in bed! By the Temple, Kurit, he's going to find me revolting!" I started to pull the blankets to the side in an effort to get out of the bed, which I had not yet done on my own. I felt a little shaky as I stood, but certainly much stronger than I had since my injury. I had grown used to the pain in my shoulder, and it no longer bothered me so long as I was careful when I moved.

I started walking to the dresser, desperate to at least brush and pin the mop that was my hair. Kurit was already on his feet, trying to get me to lie back down.

"No," I said frantically. "Go now—I need to change. Do I even have a dress to change into? Curse this hair, it's disgusting!" I hurriedly began to brush it, not caring when the tangles were roughly yanked.

"Aenna, you don't need to worry about all this. He doesn't care how you look! He just wants to meet you. You look fine!"

"You know I have been desperately waiting to be able to take a real bath. You know how ashamed I am to feel unkempt like this!" Having finished brushing one side with my good arm, I tried to brush the other half of my hair by reaching around, but bending my head sufficiently hurt a great deal, and I could not help but wince.

"That's enough, Aenna. You're going to hurt yourself, and there's no reason!" Kurit exclaimed, trying to pull me back to the bed as there came a knock at the door.

I froze. Kurit opened the door, and in walked a handsome, older man of medium height with great wide shoulders. His hair was a mixture of black and dark grey. He looked nothing like Kurit, and I dared to hope this was not his father.

"Is everything all right in here? I could hear a bit of a commotion from the hall," said the man in a voice that was quiet yet resonated deeply throughout the room.

"It's fine, Father. Aenna was concerned that she did not look her best to meet you, and I was trying to convince her that you wouldn't care."

I turned a deep shade of red and prayed that the floor would open beneath me. Kurit's father turned to me and nodded politely. "You needn't have gone to the trouble, my dear."

"She was afraid you would find her unworthy," Kurit said as he tried to guide me back to the bed.

"Don't tell him that!" I said to Kurit, then realized I had just given an order to the Prince in front of the King, and became even more flustered and ashamed. "Oh, I didn't mean to sound like that!" For some absurd reason, my mind decided that that would be a good time to curtsey, but my legs didn't agree and I began to fall over.

Kurit was beside me, so he caught me as I fell but inadvertently pulled my left arm upwards in the process, which, of course, hurt. Despite myself, I cried out, and in panic, Kurit dropped me the rest of the way to the floor. I landed roughly, making an "oof" sound.

King Tarken came to my aid just as Kurit did the same. I looked at one, then the other, and then, just because it was the most insane, ridiculous thing I could possibly have done in that moment, I laughed.

Hearing myself do so was a bit of a shock, and I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth. Kurit and Tarken looked at me strangely and with worry. Again, I could not help but laugh.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, trying to control myself. But the more I realized how foolish I must have looked, the funnier it became, and I laughed again.

"Did you hit your head, Aenna?" Kurit said as they both helped me gently to my feet.

"No," I said, forcing myself to stop laughing. "I just feel like such a fool. You must think me mad," I said to the King. "I'm so sorry, really, I don't know why I'm laughing. It's insane, I know. I mean no disrespect."

"Hush, dear," Tarken said. "You're panicking for no reason. I did not come to judge you. Come now, you should be in bed."

"Aenna, you're bleeding," Kurit fretted.

Sure enough, fresh blood had seeped through the shoulder of the nightgown. The two men walked me quickly back to the bed, and Kurit ran to fetch Tash.

And so I was left alone in a room with King Tarken of Keshaerlan. I had no notion as to what to say, especially after the ridiculous performance I had just given. I covered my face with my hands, horribly embarrassed, certain that he would now tell me that under no circumstances was I going to be allowed to marry his son.

"I'm sorry if my visit has upset you," he said.

"No, Your Majesty, it's my fault. What an awful mess I've made of things! I wouldn't blame you if you sent me away immediately for seeming to be such a raving lunatic." Behind my hands, tears began to fall.

"I did not come to pass judgment on you. I simply wished to meet the girl who has my son's heart so enthralled that he can speak of nothing else but how magnificent you are." He touched my arm softly, prompting me to move my hands from my face. "What is it that makes you so nervous?"

I looked at him incredulously. "I'm a peasant meeting a King. What isn't there to be nervous about? You're going to tell me that I shall certainly not be allowed to marry Kurit, aren't you?"

"That, my dear, is a complicated issue, and one we shall all discuss together calmly and rationally when you are well. Peasant or not, you've clearly impressed my son, and I did not raise him to make foolish choices. There will, however, be no more of his spending time in this room alone with you. It is unseemly. I've arranged for a maidservant to be assigned to you by tomorrow." He picked up a clean handkerchief from the dresser and handed it to me. "Now do please dry your tears before Kurit gets back and thinks I've done something awful to you."

No sooner had he spoken the words than Kurit entered again with Tash behind him. The physician gave me a reproachful look and asked the others to leave.

After ensuring I had not torn the stitches, Tash gave me a lengthy lecture on my need to remain in bed and adhere to his directives. As he left, he readmitted Kurit.

"I'm not supposed to stay in here alone with you," Kurit said. "Father says it would reflect poorly upon you. So until you have a maidservant, I can't stay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt."

"My shoulder is fine, although I can't explain what madness overtook my mind. Kurit, I hope I haven't ruined everything."

"What, with Father?" He made a wry face and said, "He found you amusing. I told you, he's a good man. He seemed worried that he had upset you. Trust me, if he had hated you or found you immediately unworthy, he'd have said so when we spoke as Tash tended to you. He's a man of few words, but when he does speak he means what he says. Don't worry about him. He's bound to adore you." With that, Kurit kissed my cheek and left the room.

* * *

That evening as I sat up in the bed after eating a delicious dinner, a beautiful, dark-haired young woman knocked and entered, carrying what appeared to be several dresses over one arm.

"Pardon me, Lady Aenna, I hope that I have not disturbed you. I am Leiset," she said, curtseying delicately. "I have been assigned to serve as your maidservant, if you should approve."

I felt the urge to laugh at the thought of having a maidservant, but I didn't wish to offend her so I pressed my lips together tightly and said nothing.

She put the pile of clothing over the back of the chair at the dresser. "I know you're too weak still to rise and try any of these on, but I wanted to have something on hand for you when you are well enough. Of course, you are to have a wardrobe of your own made for you eventually, but, well, it has all been rather short notice, hasn't it? I hope you don't find it presumptuous, but I took the liberty of selecting some of the tailor's general fare for the time being. His Highness told me you are close to my height, but quite..." She seemed unsure how to continue.

"Larger?" I suggested, noting that she was rather willowy.

She smiled kindly and said, "His word was curvaceous. So I selected several dresses that I thought ought to fit well enough until you have your own made. If you would like, I shall hold them up for you, and whichever you dislike I shall return to the tailor immediately."

I nodded.

She picked up the top dress from the pile and held it against herself. It was a dusty pink, with full sleeves that were pleated at the top to give the gown a soft look. The neckline was modestly high, and the dress flared at the bottom.

"It's beautiful," I said.

"It's not bad but rather dowdy," she said, approaching the bed with it. "And the colour, oh dear, no, not with your hair. I apologize, my Lady. I had not taken that into account. I assumed your hair was dark, but I should not have, for I've seen red-haired Aleshans before. His Highness failed to mention it. Men never think about how colours clash." She went back to the pile, dropping the first gown on the dresser. She flipped through the other dresses, automatically disqualifying several of similar colours. From the bottom she pulled a deep blue gown, simple in design with short sleeves and a high collar. She brought it to my bedside, and I reached out to touch the lovely fabric. It was soft and rich, unlike any material I had ever handled.

"This colour suits you very well, if I may say so, my Lady. The pattern is simplistic, I know, but..." Leiset trailed off, noticing my reaction. The full impact of what was occurring had hit me with the touch of that luxurious fabric. These elegant gowns, they were the simple starters that this woman hoped I would suffer whilst my own dresses were made. My own dresses. I had never owned more than two at any time in my life, and here was presented to me a choice of no less than ten. A month before I would have considered this dress she held for me to be an unrealistic dream—perhaps an unaffordable treasure seen in a merchant's caravan. Now this woman, who called herself my maidservant, was presenting me clothing greater than I ever would have prayed for. I was overwhelmed and struck by quiet tears of disbelief and gratitude.

"My Lady, have I offended you?" Leiset asked.

I looked at her with empathy, wanting to explain that she had done nothing wrong, but I was at a loss for words and could not make my hand let go of the soft fabric.

"Forgive me. I should have realized that you were not feeling well enough for this tonight. Shall I take them away, Lady Aenna?"

"No," I said. "It's so beautiful. I've never had anything so beautiful. By rights, you shouldn't call me 'Lady'. Living in the palace, you are of higher station than I."

Leiset looked at me strangely and said, "But you are to marry Prince Kurit, are you not?"

"Yes, but despite his kind words, I'm still a peasant girl. Less than a month ago I was a barmaid. Did you know that?"

"It was the rumour I had heard, my Lady, yes. But that is of no importance. You're the betrothed of the Prince. It is not my place to judge who you may have been before today, my Lady."

"I'm the same person I was then. I would not have been deemed qualified then to be your maidservant, let alone have one myself. To be quite blunt, I am rather uncomfortable with the title. I know nothing of being a Lady." I let go of the dress finally, moving my hand to my forehead, where an uncomfortable ache had begun. I sighed and said, "He's mad to think I shall ever fit into this world."

Leiset set the beautiful blue dress down gently on the back of the chair and then brought me a handkerchief with which to dry my cheeks. I thanked her and pressed it to my face.

"Are you unwell? Shall I fetch the physician?" she asked quietly.

"No," I said, dropping my hand and the handkerchief to my lap. I rolled my eyes at the thought of another lecture and said, "I'd rather see him as little as necessary."

Leiset tried to hide a smile. "You've been subjected to one of his speeches, I assume."

"One? Several," I muttered.

Leiset covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh, and the sight made me laugh myself, which in turn I tried to hide for decency's sake, knowing it was impolite to laugh about someone who was not present. But it was too late, for the more each of us tried to suppress the giggles, the funnier it became, until we both sat on the bed red-faced with laughter.

Leiset managed to gain control over herself first, and pressing her hands together as if in prayer, said, "Oh, it's wicked of me to laugh at him. But he is such an autocrat, isn't he? I suppose he's entitled, since he's very good at what he does. He's healed people who were otherwise doomed to die. But, Lady Aenna, you should hear how he speaks down to even the King. It's almost treasonous!"

I smiled at her. I had only just met her, but already I had decided I liked her very much. Enough, in fact, that I was quite uncomfortable with the idea of her serving beneath me. That just simply was not right, and I tried to explain that to her.

"Would you rather have someone else assigned to you then?" she asked.

"No, not at all! But could you not refer to me with a title? At least not just yet. I'm sorry if that's inappropriate, but truly, it makes me nervous."

"It is only inappropriate if you deem it so, Lady—I mean, Aenna. I shall call you whatever you request me to. Though it would only be wise for me to address you formally in public."

"Also, I am used to caring for myself. All of this concern while I've been injured, it's been very nice and I appreciate it, but I'm not about to go ordering anyone to serve me."

Leiset nodded, seeming to understand how I felt. I thought perhaps she was imagining herself in my place and could thus understand how strange and awkward it all was. "I shall try not to make you feel waited upon, then, but I am here to work for you. You shouldn't feel that it is putting me out to ask me to do something for you, for that's my job. Why, if you were to go fetch yourself a meal in the kitchen, the poor cooks would be mortified, thinking that you had come to scold them!"

"I wouldn't scold them at all! The food I've had has been better than anything I've been privileged to eat before."

"It may well be, but there's a structure to life in the palace. The royalty do not tend to daily concerns such as fetching meals, drawing baths, arranging schedules, and the like. They have other important things to worry about."

"But I'm not royalty," I replied.

"You will be, Aenna. When you marry the Prince."

I sighed heavily. There it was again—the knowledge that I was not ready for this world. "It's all too much. It's all so foolish and ridiculous, like a bard's tale for children." I said.

Leiset put a gentle hand on my arm and said, "I cannot imagine how difficult it must be, to go from being a humble barmaid to the bride-to-be of the Prince. But that shall be part of my job, to help you prepare for that. You will take lessons in geography and economics and the like—the sort of lessons that daughters of nobility are raised with as children. I have worked in the palace all of my life, my mother having been the cousin to a wealthy nobleman. I can help you learn what you need to know, and I would be honoured to do so."

I smiled at her. "I must have done something very right in the eyes of the Gods that I would be blessed first with Kurit's love and now with a kind friend such as yourself. I am allowed to think of you as a friend, aren't I?"

She nodded. "If it pleases you, then I would appreciate it, yes." After a moment of silence, she said, "Now shall I continue with the dresses, or are you too tired? It is a late hour already."

I told her I'd rather continue the next day, when hopefully I'd be allowed to be out of bed long enough to actually try them on and see them in the daylight from the window. She agreed, tidied up the pile left to be decided upon, and bade me goodnight as she left with those dresses that had been rejected.

### Chapter 5

IT WAS NOT long until I was back on my feet more often than I was in bed. The blue dress Leiset had shown me fit, although it was rather snug around the chest and upper arms. I loved it so much, though, that we asked the tailor to make one suited to my measurements.

The first day I wore the dress was to be the day I would first be allowed to walk about the palace. Kurit arrived at my door in the early afternoon just as Leiset finished pinning my hair into an elegant style that I could never have achieved on my own.

Kurit beamed as I rose to face him, his face lit up with some mysterious joy.

"What is it, Kurit? You look positively boyish," I said.

He shrugged mischievously. "Am I less a man today?"

"No." I laughed. "Not at all. It's rather endearing."

"Perhaps it's because I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" I couldn't imagine what he would have for me, and I saw nothing in his hands. "Why?"

"A man shouldn't need a reason to bring gifts to his beloved. Here," he said, pulling a small packet from his pocket. He opened it in front of me and poured into his hand a pretty gold chain with an exquisitely wrought gold pendant in the shape of two entwined hearts.

I looked at his eyes; they were filled with a boyish sweetness as he unravelled the chain and held it before me.

"It's beautiful," I whispered as he stepped behind me to affix it about my neck.

"I know it's not very fancy nor expensive," he said as he fumbled with the clasp, "but I looked at the more luxurious pieces and thought, 'No, it's too soon—she'll be uncomfortable with that.' But this looked simple and elegant, and I thought it a little romantic as well, perhaps."

I looked at it in the mirror and raised my hand to touch it against my chest. It sat beautifully against the deep blue material of the dress.

"Do you like it?" he asked as I stared. "Because if you don't—"

"It's perfect," I said. I turned to him, determined not to well up with tears yet again—I had been doing far too much of that lately, and the mental image of my constant weeping was starting to make me ill. "It's perfect, and very thoughtful." I turned to show Leiset.

She nodded politely to Kurit and said, "A splendid choice, Your Highness."

I faced Kurit again and emphatically said, "Thank you. It means a great deal to me."

He beamed again, very pleased with himself, and deservedly so. Taking my hands in his, he looked over my shoulder to Leiset and said, somewhat mockingly, "What say you, maid who guards sweet Aenna's virtue, may I give my love a kiss?"

I heard Leiset behind me reply in a similarly mocking tone, "I must turn my back for a moment—and just one moment—to put this hairbrush away."

I knew she had turned when Kurit swooped in for a hurried yet delightful kiss. And I knew when she had turned back a moment later when I saw him cast his eyes quickly away as if playing innocent. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and I loved him for it.

For the next two hours, Kurit and Leiset gave me a tour of the palace. I saw the Great Hall, where court was held and the King and Queen sat on their thrones; a splendid ballroom of absolutely breathtaking architecture and decoration; a gallery of art and historical relics; an enormous library with shelves so high that ladders were left about everywhere; and a myriad of other rooms, all beautiful and elegant. I was introduced to so many people, from servants to nobility, that I could not possibly recall any of their names. Most were polite, though some of the noblewomen cast harsh glances in my direction and whispered behind me as we left.

When Leiset and I returned to my room—still the guest room while other preparations were being made—there was a note card from Queen Kasha, requesting my presence in her workroom as soon as I was able to come. I showed it to Leiset, who said she would escort me there right away.

Leiset announced me to the guard at the Queen's door, who in turn said I was expected and admitted me quickly.

In the room sat a tall, thin woman, writing at a desk. She glanced at me briefly and said, "Sit. I shall be with you in a moment." I sat down in a high-backed wooden chair and tried to look refined and mask my anxiety. I tried not to look at her, but she was quite the commanding figure—deep black hair pulled into a tight wrap, a narrow face with solidly defined cheekbones, and dark, deep-set eyes. She continued her writing for a few minutes in silence, then set down the pen, and put the paper aside to let the ink dry.

She moved to a chair facing me and sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap neatly.

"So," she said coldly, "you are the barmaid whom my son imagines to love."

I was stunned. What answer was there to such a statement?

"I see you've been decorated well, if simply, from the palace stocks. It must be quite the adventure, I imagine, to dress up in lovely clothes and pretend to be a noblewoman?"

"I don't mean to pretend... I just—" I stammered.

"You just thought that you'd won a great prize in my son, knowing that he would bring you wealth and power beyond your peasant's dreams. Yes?"

Her face betrayed no emotion; it was as stone cold as a statue. I tried to compose my thoughts, to respond with something that would communicate to her that I sought neither prize nor power, but that I had indeed fallen in love with a man who happened to be her son. But her accusations were stated in a way that they could not be answered without admitting guilt. Unable to conceive of something intelligent to say, I sat in shock, saying nothing.

"You do, of course, realize that being Queen is more than wearing pretty dresses and dancing at balls."

That I was aware of, and could answer. "Indeed, Majesty, I am well aware that it is a position of tremendous responsibility. I do not take the notion lightly at all, in fact—"

"So surely you understand," she said, the corner of her mouth turning upwards slightly in an icy smile, "that in my position of tremendous responsibility, as you say, I cannot allow the future King to wed the first pretty little strumpet who catches his eye."

Now, I had been self-conscious about my low social standing, my minimal education, my poverty, and my lack of a family, but I knew without question that I was no "strumpet". It took great effort to remind myself that I was speaking with the Queen of Keshaerlan, and the mother of the man I hoped to marry, and that blowing up in anger at her obvious jab would accomplish nothing. But her insult galvanized my will against her attack, and I was able to speak back to her.

"Your Majesty, I know not what you have heard that you would think me a strumpet, but I assure you, I am nothing of the sort. My feelings for Prince Kurit developed before I knew his true name, and since he revealed it I have many times told him myself that I recognize I am not of the nobility, and thus have a great challenge to rise above my history to be worthy of him. He continues to tell me that he believes in me, and while I do, admittedly, find myself somewhat awestruck by the fashion of living here in the palace, I am confident in his acceptance of me, for he is an intelligent, good man."

Her icy little smile faded, and she glared at me intensely. I don't think she had expected anything other than tears and apologies. She pressed her thin lips tightly together for a moment and then said, "My son is a good man. He is very kind and generous."

"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied. "That he is."

"He deserves a wife of good upbringing who can fulfill the duties of a noble wife and mother, as well as serving as Queen. He may believe in your abilities at the moment, but when you both realize how greatly you underestimate the level of performance that will be required, you will suffer under the pressure and he will resent you for your lack of ability. Surely you must know that you are doomed to fail his expectations, and how do you imagine that will affect both of you then? Your marriage will fall apart, and you will have weakened the nation with your folly. This cannot be allowed to happen."

I had not considered that. She was correct that if I failed to live up to his ideals of what I could achieve, I would be failing not only him but the entire kingdom. I was not sure which was the more horrifying prospect. My spirit sank as I pondered her projection of tragedy.

"Now, do not mistake me. I am not angry with you, nor do I seek to insult you personally. I am indeed quite grateful to you for having warned Kurit and Jarik of the danger posed by the Daufraemen, and grateful again that you had a hand in preventing him from being struck down at the gates to this fine city. I even understand why you would wish his company. He is, as we agreed, a good and kind young man. Of your own sense of duty, however, you must acknowledge that he cannot marry you."

I told myself that she was right. Undoubtedly Kurit's affections arose from gratitude—I had considered that before, but he had always argued against it.

"But as a good man," she continued, "and thinking that he loves you, he will no doubt try to convince you to stay. That is why you must leave immediately and must not see him before you go. Tash tells me you are well enough healed to leave the palace on your own."

I clenched my jaw in an effort to not shed tears as my fantasy crashed before me.

"Of course, my son's well-meant sense of dedication will no doubt inspire him to seek you out, once you have left. For that reason, it is imperative that you leave Endren entirely."

"And if he finds me?" I asked.

"Then I charge you to remind him of his duty and deny him your affection."

My throat tightened, and tears lay in wait at the corners of my eyes. I avoided blinking so that they would not fall. Queen Kasha rose from her chair and went to the desk. As her back was turned I quickly wiped the tears away. She returned with a small purse, which she handed to me.

"There is more than enough here for you to acquire passage far from Endren and start a new life for yourself."

I looked at the purse and found myself wondering if there could possibly be enough to sell my heart and soul, for that was what it felt like I would be doing if I accepted it. "I need no payment to do my duty, Majesty," I said.

"Girl, don't be foolish. You have nothing. I want you out of this city by nightfall. That requires money. Take this and be gone."

I rose slowly, took the purse from her hand, and then left before she could see me weep. I held the tears back as I hurried through the halls back to the guest room. Leiset was there when I arrived.

"Aenna, what is it? What happened?" she asked, coming straight to my side.

"I am to leave immediately," I said, stifling sobs, feeling pathetic and ashamed.

"Whatever for?" she asked. Then her eyes widened with understanding. "Oh... oh, dear. Aenna, Queen Kasha didn't approve?"

"She thinks I am some sort of harlot out to win her son's favour for my own greedy desires."

"That's absurd! I shall fetch His Highness, and this whole matter will be straightened out." She headed for the door, but I caught her arm as she passed.

"No," I said. "I am not to see him. He will fight her decision, and that cannot happen."

"But don't you want to stay?"

"Of course!" I snapped, and Leiset took a step back from me. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude to you, not when you're trying to be so kind. Of course I want to stay. I don't care about the dresses and the riches, but I dearly love him, which I know is absolutely ridiculous under the timing and circumstances, but there it is: I love him!" I sat on the edge of the bed and covered my teary face with my hands. "I've never felt like this before. Nothing even approaching it. Had I known from the start that he was Prince Kurit, I never would have allowed myself to have such feelings. I would never put myself in such a position. Oh, how I wish he was a simple farmer or merchant or anything but what he is!"

"He loves you, Aenna. One would have to be blind to not recognize that. Certainly, he has always been a bit of a winking scoundrel, but it is common knowledge that he has never before professed actual love for any woman. If you had ever seen him with the likes of Lady Sashken or Lady Keshella, you would know he has no patience for their lofty behaviour and vanity. When he speaks of you, his eyes are like a child's, dreamy and full of affection. He won't want you to go."

"I have no choice. Her Majesty is right—I shall inevitably disappoint him, and I couldn't bear to do that. No matter how much he may love me, he has a duty to choose a bride who can serve the kingdom. I am simply not qualified. Now please, don't try to convince me to stay—it only breaks my heart further. I need a simple dress—this one is impractical for returning to the life of a peasant. And I need a winter's cloak and boots, if it is not too great a trouble."

Leiset nodded and left, returning not long after with the clothing I had requested. Though the dress was plain, it was still nicer than anything I had owned since leaving the Temple Academy. I supposed it wouldn't do to have even the servants in the palace to look as drudges.

While she was gone, I had removed the necklace Kurit had given me a few hours earlier. I handed it to her as I took the dress from her arm.

"Aenna, don't. Keep it. It was a gift."

"It was a gift for his bride-to-be. That is no longer me. I cannot bear to keep it. Please, when he asks where I have gone, would you give it to him, and tell him that I loved it but..." I could not go on. I turned from her anxious face and removed the beautiful blue dress.

As I changed my clothes, Leiset suggested I at least write a note for Kurit, that he not think I had run away, not loving him.

"I cannot write. Well, I learned the basics many years ago in my childhood, but I have not held a pen since. I wouldn't know how to spell the words," I said bluntly.

"Then I shall write it for you," Leiset insisted, taking pen, ink, and paper from a dresser drawer. "You say what you wish, and I shall write it down."

"I don't know what to say. How do I break his heart?"

"You could say that you are leaving under duress, and not of your own choice," she suggested.

I shook my head. "No, that won't do. He'd only chase after me, and I don't want to put him through that when I have been ordered to deny him, should he find me and ask me to return. But neither can I say that I don't love him. It would be a lie, and it would hurt him greatly."

"Then say that you must go, even though you love him, that you cannot stay because..." Leiset trailed off, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

"Because... because of the simple fact that I am not worthy." Leiset started to write, and I paused to allow her to do so. "Tell him that I know he imagines me to be worthy, and I am very grateful for his many kind words, but the truth is I shall inevitably disappoint him, and I cannot bear to do so."

She finished writing and then asked, "Can you sign your name?"

I shook my head. "I could probably attempt it, but again, it's been years, and it would appear scrawled next to your handwriting."

"How shall I sign for you, then?"

I sighed, feeling numb inside. "Just Aenna, I suppose. Anything else will imply too much."

She signed the note and set it aside. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know. I know nothing of this province."

"You mustn't return to Alesha, Aenna. Not right now. The King's Guard is still going through the area around Daufrae, seeking out any remaining sympathizers or members of Raen's family. Everyone knows by now that the Prince's life was saved by a barmaid who overheard the assassins plotting. If any remaining sympathizers remember you and know that it was you who warned His Highness..." She didn't need to finish, as the danger was obvious. It wasn't behind me after all.

"I know. I have to start over again, where nobody knows who I am. Her Majesty said I am to be out of Endren by nightfall. I suppose I should hurry, or I won't find safe passage away. She gave me enough money with which to travel." I rose to go to the door.

"Wait, Aenna. What do I say to Prince Kurit?"

I paused by the door. "Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him not to come looking for me." I wiped fresh tears from my eyes. I knew I had to appear calm as I left, or someone would notice and Kurit might hear of my leaving too soon and be able to catch up with me. "Wait until tomorrow, unless he comes to see me. And please, give him no idea as to what direction I may have gone. The search must be hopeless, or else he might attempt it."

She nodded, looking worried for me. I could not bear to say good-bye to this good woman who had already become my friend, so I turned and went out the door.

* * *

I walked through the ankle-deep snow on Endren's streets to the south city gate. There I watched many merchants and tradesmen in final preparations to leave the city, as it was late afternoon and to leave the city after dark would be foolish. I wandered through the parked caravans and waiting horses until I spied a respectable-looking man locking down his caravan's doors. He looked very clean, as did his wagon, and did not curse as he worked like some of the other nearby men did.

I approached him and asked about the possibility of purchasing travel away from Endren, but when I could not tell him where I wanted to go, he grew suspicious.

"I don't aid criminals, girl," he said.

I quickly thought of a tale to tell. "I'm no criminal. My mother died, and I have no job here in Endren, and the city reminds me of her and breaks my heart." It was not difficult to fake tears—all I had to do was think of Kurit and wonder if he had yet come to my room and found me gone. "Please, I have some money, what was left when she died. I just want to start a new life, perhaps as a barmaid, if I could find one that wouldn't make me do, well, unseemly things."

My tears unnerved him, and I suspect my stated desire against working as a woman of the night made me appear more sweet and virtuous. "Oh now, girl, don't go crying," he said. "By the Temple itself, I can't stand that." He sighed and said, "I'm headed down the King's Road, then on the west fork to Southpath, then up Westpath. Do you know if you want to go that way?"

I shook my head. I hadn't even heard of such places.

He sighed again. "Just want to go away, do you then? Can't blame you, poor thing with no family here. All right then. Last time I was by Deggle's place over there in Mikilrun, he was shorthanded, and he's a good fellow, runs a good place, none of them filthy girls working in the rooms. I can't guarantee you now that he hasn't hired on some others—it was nearly two months since I was there last. But if you say you can pay your way, I'll let you ride with me. But you better not be a lying criminal, because I'll rightly turn you over to the King's Guard, I will."

We agreed on a price for the travel, and that I would pay for my own lodging and meals when we stopped.

In three days we were at the inn of which he spoke, and it was my good fortune again that after travelling with this good and honourable man, the innkeeper Deggle did still require more help. I agreed to work for only a warm cot and two meals per day until he was satisfied that I could do the job, thereafter to be paid a decent wage.

### Chapter 6

I HAD EXPECTED THE first days in Mikilrun to be the most difficult, but there was sufficient daily change and adaptation that the hours flew by. Kurit remained in the back shadows of my mind as I began my new life.

As I settled into a routine, however, my mind state changed. Kurit invaded my thoughts more and more every day, and I grew increasingly despondent with the fear that I might not ever be able to truly move on with my life.

I worked harder, very much impressing Deggle with my diligence, all in an effort to crowd my mind with anything other than Kurit's face, his eyes, his words, his kisses. Oh, his kisses! When my poor head did bring back those particular memories, my belly fluttered and my knees grew weak. Then the agony of missing him would hit with its fullest force such that my chest and head would ache. There were times when I was alone—in bed or somewhere on a solitary chore—when I would quietly weep. On three separate occasions I whispered his name and sobbed.

Yet even as four months crawled by and spring threatened to banish the snow from the landscapes of Mikilrun, the pain did not fade. I remained as polite and friendly to the customers and other staff as was necessary, but every day it became more of an act as I withdrew further into depression.

I tried to convince myself that he must have forgotten about his affections for me, and perhaps had even mocked me and deemed himself quite silly to have ever desired me. I thought believing such things might make me stronger and better able to move on without him, but instead the thoughts haunted me and made my despair that much worse. I battled thoughts of returning by believing such terrible things, but again the notion that my beloved Kurit could be so callous only increased my pain.

So I worked on in a vague trance of despair, dragging time listlessly behind me. Then, early one afternoon I was washing the tables clean after lunch—a busy time, as local merchants frequented the pub of the inn almost daily for their midday meal—when I heard a voice behind me say, "You didn't even see me before you left."

I turned, my rag and bucket of water in my hands. There he stood. For a moment, I thought myself to be dreaming, as I often had. But Kurit truly was before me, and in shock I dropped the rag and bucket. They splashed to the ground, covering both of our feet in dirty water.

Deggle witnessed the scene and came rushing out from behind the bar. Recognizing Kurit, no doubt by the fact that the Prince wore a royal blue tunic and cloak, both embroidered with his crest, the innkeeper scolded me and apologized to Kurit for his sloppy barmaid.

Kurit waved him off without looking away from my eyes. "It is my fault. I startled her. And she is more than your barmaid. She is the lady I love."

"No," I said, hating myself for being able to say it so easily. "No, Kurit, go. Forget you saw me. Go back to your palace." I was aware that my casual used of his name and my blunt directives were unbecoming to my station. I hoped my emphatic unseemliness would give him further cause to leave.

"I cannot do that, Aenna," he said, dismissing my words in an instant. "Not without you by my side."

I stood my ground. I was not about to let my emotions rule as they had before. "No. I don't belong there. You deserve better. There are many eligible noblewomen in Endren. Forget me and seek one of them instead."

"Those selfish, arrogant, scrawny little gadflies?" He sneered at the thought. "They could never catch my eye after I have known someone as brave and generous as yourself."

"I cannot be what you need. You must adhere to your duty and marry a noblewoman, not squander your love on an uneducated, unqualified peasant." That's it, I told myself. Concentrate on the duty part of it. At all costs I had to keep the issue of affection out of play, for there I could not fight him for long, and I knew it.

"You can have whatever education you require. I remember how we spoke during those first days, how I explained complicated concepts of politics and economics and the like to you and asked your opinion. Without fail you impressed me with how eager you were to learn, how quickly you took hold of the new information and were able to form competent opinions, right on the spot. You're clearly intelligent enough to learn whatever you need to."

"Even so, I would never be respected as your wife ought to be. I would not be accepted, no matter if I became the foremost expert on any topic."

He stepped forward to touch my arm, but I stepped back to prevent it. If he touched me, my resolve would crumble. "Anyone who takes issue with you will have to deal with me, Aenna. I won't stand to hear you belittled."

"That's no way to run a kingdom," I said, breaking his gaze by bending to the floor to gather the rag and bucket. "You can't annoy everybody who matters and then demand that they accept it." I rose with the rag and bucket and turned to set them aside. In doing so, I noticed Jarik was with Kurit, standing in the background, watching. I also noticed that the entire staff of the inn was gathered at the bar and door to the kitchen, spectators to the event, with the few customers left from lunch also in the audience. They must have thought me mad. I knew better.

And then he played his gambit, hitting the one weak spot I could not dodge with remarks of duty or questions of my worth. "Do you love me?" he asked, and I was glad my back was to him, that he could not see my pained reaction. "Because if you are sending me on my way on account of a lack of love for me, well then, as much as that would sadden me, I shall accept it. I don't wish to pressure you into being with me if it's not what you truly want. So, lovely Aenna of Alesha, if you can honestly tell me that you do not love me, I shall take my leave."

I breathed deeply to prevent myself from displaying emotion. I gathered in my mind every reason I had for leaving him in the first place and used them to push aside my true feelings. I told myself that if I did love him, I had to do right by him, and that meant convincing him to leave me behind. And so I managed to say it, tripping over the words only once: "I do not... I don't love you."

Then he was behind me, hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him. I closed my eyes before I could see him.

"Say it again. Say it while you look at me. Look at me, Aenna."

"Stop," I said, a hint of a quaver to my voice. I kept my eyes closed tightly. Crying could not be tolerated. If I cried, there would be no hope of making him leave.

"No," he said harshly; I couldn't tell whether from anger or frustration. "Tell me again. If you can look me in my eyes and tell me that you don't love me, I shall leave and never disturb you again. But if you cannot, if there is enough love in your heart to prevent you from saying it, then I shall not rest until I've convinced you to come home with me."

Angry, I told myself, be angry at him. Be furious at him. I won't cry if I'm furious. I won't break if I'm furious. Be enraged that he does not listen, that he has come all this way for a foolish infatuation that must not be allowed to continue.

The anger rose in me, and I took strength from it. But then I made the mistake of opening my eyes to see his earnest and pained expression, and that strength dissipated in an instant.

Quickly I turned my head away. "It doesn't matter how I feel."

"Do you love me?"

"Kurit, let go of me."

"Do you love me?"

"Go, Kurit. Please."

"Do you love me?" he repeated again, always in the same blunt manner, driving me insane.

"Stop this madness and go, please, just go."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," I finally said, broken by his insistence and his touch. I looked at him and sighed. "But what of it? It doesn't matter in the end."

"It is all that matters," he said softly. His hands slid down my arms to my hands, which he lifted and kissed. "Be with me, Aenna. You said you'd marry me before. Say again that you'll still be my bride."

I pulled my hands hurriedly from his grasp. "I cannot. It would be wrong. If I marry you, I am doomed to fail your lofty expectations, and then you shall resent me for it. You'll regret your choice, and as our marriage fails so too will your governance, and I will not be responsible for that sort of detriment to Keshaerlan!"

"Who filled your head with such nonsense?" he asked, and then his expression was one of sarcastic illumination. "Oh, how could I even ask? My wretched mother got to you, didn't she? She drove you away, filling your mind with her insanity and prejudice!"

"You speak treason against the Queen!" I exclaimed, aghast that he would denounce his mother so in public.

"No, I speak the truth, don't I?" he asked, clearly incensed. "I know she spoke to you right before you ran off. What did she tell you? That you're not worthy? Pah! She thinks that about everyone but her pet Sashken! Did she say our marriage would tear apart the nation? Again, pah! She uses that ridiculous threat every time I do something she doesn't like. Did she insult you, scoff at you, berate you? Well then, she spoke treason against the future Queen!"

"I'm not fit to be a Queen!" I exclaimed in return and then threw my hands in the air in frustration. I clenched my fists and brought them down hard onto a table, making a terrible racket. "Curse it all, Kurit, if you weren't the Prince and the sole heir to the throne, then there'd be no issue, but you are and there is!"

He came behind me again, seeking to embrace me. "If that's what it takes to win your heart, Aenna, I'll renounce the throne. I'll do it."

I wrestled away from him, no longer having to feign fury to inspire myself to send him away. "Absolutely not!" I shouted. "You have a duty, Kurit. You have benefited from a life of wealth and status, and your payment in return for that good life is to accept your duty and birthright. I will not—hear me, Kurit!—I will not be the one known to history as starting a war for the throne amongst the noble families by seducing the only child of the King into abdication!" My face felt hot as my blood boiled at his appalling offer.

We stood, staring at each other in exasperation and heartache, silently waiting for the other to say something. Instead, Jarik came to my side and quietly—at least it seemed quiet compared to the shouting—said, "You have just proven yourself worthy, Aenna. In front of everyone here you have espoused duty over your own happiness. I can't imagine a more fitting quality for a Queen."

Kurit latched onto Jarik's idea. "Yes, Aenna, you speak of duty. You have an opportunity to bring your unique wisdom, untainted by the frivolities of court or prejudices of class, to the throne. There is much that you can teach me of how most Keshaerlans live. You will be a remarkable Queen, loved by the people because you are one of them. You have admitted your love for me. Without you, my life would be empty and without inspiration. I will be a better King if you are by my side. If you are so concerned with duty, then ask yourself if you do not have a duty to your own feelings, to the one who loves you above all else, and to the lives that you could touch with your wisdom.

"I would not ask this if you didn't love me. I would never ask you to do anything out of duty alone."

I weighed his logic against that of his mother and could not choose the winner. It all depended on whether or not I could live up to his expectations. If by some miracle I could, then he would be right, and I could surely support him in all things and perhaps inspire him to greater rule. If I could not do what he thought I could, then the other predictions would come true, and I would be responsible for great tragedy.

And there in the middle of the logic and the weighed consequence was the simple fact that I loved him more dearly than I ever imagined possible.

Jarik gently took my hand in his. I looked at him, and his kind smile warmed my heart. "Aenna, truly you are a good lady. In the end, that is all that matters," he said. The big man guided my hand into Kurit's and let it go.

I turned my eyes to Kurit and saw that he beheld me with tender affection. Wretched tears spilled from my eyes as a result, signalling to me that I had lost my battle. He pulled me close, embracing me, and I no longer had the will to push him away. He kissed my forehead, and when I looked up at him he kissed my mouth sweetly.

When he ended the kiss and looked into my eyes again, he said, "I can only bear to ask it once more. Will you marry me?"

I broke his gaze, searching for the strength to do what was right, but could no longer ascertain what that was. I looked around the room. Jarik watched, expressionless. The other inn staff stood wide-eyed and gaping, like fishes out of water—an image that would have made me laugh uproariously any other day. A customer in the corner caught my eye because he looked oddly tense in anticipation of my answer.

I looked back at Kurit. He, too, was tense in anticipation, and I could see that he was trying to ready himself for another rejection.

"Yes," I said. "Though I fear I do you no favour by saying so. Yes, if I am what you truly want, then I shall marry you."

Delight and relief flashed across his face, and he exclaimed, "Gods be praised, Aenna, thank you!" He threw his arms in the air and shouted, "It is yes! She has said yes!" As the people in the inn cheered, he wrapped his arms around me again joyously, picking me up off my feet and spinning me around. He set me back down and kissed me with youthful enthusiasm as he so often had back at Endren.

Then he stepped back and searched his pockets for something. Out of one he pulled the gold chain and pendant he had given me the day I left. I could not help but smile, and seeing me thus he went behind me to put it back around my neck. I lifted the braid of my hair out of his way as he clasped it.

When he was done I turned to him again and fell into his arms. I had dreamed this dream many a night as I had lay awake missing him, and here he was, and again to marry me.

He startled me as he lifted me off the floor, cradled in his arms. He turned to Deggle and proclaimed, "I am terribly sorry to steal away your employee, innkeeper, but this dear lady is wanted back at home, in Endren." Then he ceremoniously carried me outside, where their horses awaited.

Jarik followed us out, and Kurit turned when he called, swinging me about in his arms.

"Aenna, do you have belongings I should gather?" asked Jarik.

I looked to Kurit to put me down so I could go and fetch my things, but he would not. "I just won you back, and I'm not letting go," he said teasingly.

Jarik gave him an impatient look, so quickly I answered, "I don't have much. Just a dress and a hairbrush. And a little bit of money saved up."

"You won't need any of that anymore," said Kurit.

"Well then, tell Deggle he should divide the money amongst the other barmaids. I suppose that's only fair, for they'll be shorthanded without me. But I'll need the dress to change into, unless you want me to wear this same dirty one the whole way to Endren."

"Home, Aenna. Call it home," Kurit said, beaming at me.

I went on, unable to cope with that notion just at that moment. "And I'll need the brush on the journey as well. I cannot bear to have my hair unbrushed."

"Or go without a bath. I remember." Kurit laughed. He swung me up to his saddle so joyously that I almost rolled right over the horse and would have if he hadn't still been holding my legs.

Jarik went back into the inn to fetch my things, as Kurit took his place on the saddle behind me. Because I was riding side-saddle, as was appropriate to an unmarried woman, he was able to turn my face to him for another sweet kiss.

Jarik returned with my belongings and tucked them into his satchel. He mounted his horse, and we were off.

So there I was once again leaving my own life and employment for this man, and with no less trepidation than the last time. Of course, then I had feared what might have been lurking on the dark path at night, while this time I worried if I was condemning us to misery as Queen Kasha had predicted.

* * *

We rode quickly down Westpath, slowing to rest the horses when we turned onto Southpath. At that pace, Jarik was able to ride beside Kurit and me instead of in front of us, and we were all able to talk.

"How did you possibly find me?" I inquired.

"I didn't," Kurit said, his arms loosely around me as he held the reins. "Jarik did." He told me the full story of how he learned I had gone.

"I came to see you before dinner, and there was no one in your room. I had been planning to ask you if you were up to joining everyone in the Great Hall for dinner that night, but when I couldn't find you I assumed you were off with Leiset somewhere, trying on more dresses or some such thing. I didn't worry in the slightest and simply assumed that I'd ask you to join us for dinner the following night.

"Then as I was climbing the stairs on my way to my chambers, I saw Leiset leaving the south wing, alone, and looking distraught. I called to her, but she pretended not to hear me and hurried away. I found that very odd, but I decided not to pursue her at that moment. Instead, I went to my chambers and found my manservant Gilrin looking sheepish. For a moment I wondered if Leiset and Gilrin had had some sort of romance that had gone sour, even though rumour has it that Leiset is not fond of men. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that Leiset had brought a note from you. When I asked for it, he didn't want to give it to me, as if delaying the truth would make it easier.

"When finally he acquiesced and I read the note, I was naturally upset."

I felt a twinge of guilt and looked away. In doing so, I saw that Jarik was looking at Kurit rather incredulously.

Kurit saw Jarik's expression and said, "Oh, fine. I was more than upset. I... I might have lost my temper a bit." He received another look from Jarik and admitted, "I went completely mad. I ran to your room, and of course you were not there, and neither was Leiset. So I stormed around the palace, shouting out both your names, making several servants go pale with my wrath, I'm afraid.

"I finally found Leiset sitting in the southeast tower steps, weeping pitifully. I ordered her to tell me where you had gone. She replied that she didn't know, that you wouldn't tell her because you didn't want me to find you. She knew only that you had left Endren and did not intend to return.

"I stormed back through the palace, shouting orders to have my horse and travel gear readied immediately. Of course, by that time everyone was buzzing about what was going on, and..." He stopped and sighed a very frustrated sigh. "And that's when my mother approached me. She said she regretted not having had the chance to meet you, but now that you were gone, it was time for me to calm down and go on with my life.

"By then Jarik had joined the discussion and suggested we further question Leiset. He and I went back, found her still sitting on the tower steps, and demanded to know everything—why you had left, what you had said, if there was any hint as to what direction you may have gone. She was reluctant to say anything, clearly wanting to respect your wishes, but I pulled rank and ordered her to tell me. So don't be angry with her, Aenna, because she only told me what she did when I forced her to do so.

"Leiset told me that you had met my mother, and it infuriated me that mother had expressed regret over not meeting you in such a blunt lie. I knew immediately that that meant she had said something to send you away. When Leiset told me that Mother actually ordered you away, I was ready to storm out of the palace again, but Jarik stopped me. He refused to let me out of the tower until I calmed down, at which point we decided that it would be foolish of me to storm out looking for you only to have Mother convince Father to send the Guard out to drag me back home. So Jarik offered to go look for you."

"That wasn't the only reason," Jarik said. "It would not have been safe for you to run about wildly. Not as we had just quelled that little skirmish in Alesha. That was where I decided to look for you first, in case you had tried to return home."

Kurit nodded. "Jarik left that night because we were afraid you might not have considered the danger of returning. But of course you were not so foolish and had gone the other direction entirely. So Jarik rode from town to town along the main roads looking for you, asking if you had been seen."

"We put up proclamations in several cities offering a reward to anyone who could provide us with sound information as to your whereabouts," said Jarik.

"But Mother found out about that and ordered them torn down."

"Eventually," said Jarik, "I was fortunate enough to be passing through Mikilrun, and the Gods clearly wanted you found, for there before me was a woman with red hair, quite unusual in these parts, sweeping the steps of the inn. I watched long enough to be certain it was you."

"He rode fast back to Endren, told me he'd found you, and we rushed here."

"After telling King Tarken that Kurit needed a hunting trip to get his mind off of you," Jarik mentioned.

"Yes, which was a fitting excuse, for I constantly brooded for you, refusing most of the time to even speak to my mother. When I made the foolish mistake of thinking that perhaps I could speak sensibly to her, she kept talking about Sashken. 'Isn't Sashken lovely, isn't she so very well-bred,' Mother would say. I told her bluntly that I despised Sashken and that she could stop trying to make that marriage happen, because it never would. She said my silly, childish behaviour would tear the nation apart if I didn't get my head together."

"But wait," I said, interrupting. "You said you were going hunting? So nobody knows I'm on my way back with you?"

Kurit shook his head.

I sighed heavily. "That will certainly not make things easier when we arrive."

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Kurit asked worriedly. He moved his arms a bit closer around me.

"No, but..." I sighed again.

Kurit pulled me towards him in full embrace. "Don't fret, Aenna. I won't let her send you away again. And I won't let her berate you any further."

"So how do you plan to do this, then?" I asked. "Surely you don't intend to dance through the door with me on your arm."

"Why not?" he asked. "They'll have to get used to the idea that there is no other woman for me and that I am going to marry you. I don't require Mother's approval, so long as Father agrees to it."

"Splendid," I muttered. "He'll no doubt be furious that you're flaunting me in your mother's face and will choose to side with her."

"She's right, Kurit," Jarik stated. "If you storm in there when we return and demand approval, your father's likely to think Aenna is causing you to forget civility and thus might not be an appropriate influence."

"Well, we can't live in secret," replied Kurit.

"No," Jarik agreed. "But I have a better idea. When we return to Endren, which will likely be late tomorrow, you go back to the palace on your own. I'll escort Aenna to the Temple and tell Abbott Jhin the whole story."

Kurit burst into laughter, and I gave him a strange look for it. "Sorry, Aenna, but you have to understand that Abbott Jhin and Mother cannot stand each other. He's the High Abbott in Endren, yet he will not set foot in the palace because she has insulted him far too frequently."

"Indeed," said Jarik, continuing. "He will no doubt be of great help. I'll ask him to hide Aenna in the Temple for a short time. At dinner the next night, you shall announce that you have decided it is time for you to choose a bride and shall make your decision over the next three days."

"Ugh," Kurit groaned. "Sashken will follow me about me day and night."

"Suffer it, Kurit," Jarik retorted without sympathy. "On that third night at dinner, you shall announce that you have chosen your bride and that no one shall ever come between you. I will be waiting just inside the doors with Aenna, and when I hear your announcement echo down the hall, I shall bring her forth and present her to you."

"The Queen will have my head!" I exclaimed.

"No," said Kurit, seeming to understand Jarik's plan. "No, she won't. She won't make a public scene. She abhors the very thought."

"Precisely," said Jarik. "There will be some murmuring, a great deal of surprise, but most of those present will applaud your decision because they won't know what else to do. Then we'll declare an impromptu celebration, and we take Aenna around the room to introduce her formally to everyone—"

"And keep Mother away from her."

"Yes."

"She'll get to me eventually," I said. "Celebration or not, at some point in time she's going to get to me. I don't relish the thought of what she'll have to say."

"Hopefully by that time I will have ensured Father's approval," Kurit said. "Which I don't think will be a problem, because, honestly, he said he likes you."

"After I acted so foolishly?"

"I told you, he's a wise man. He could tell that you were nervous, and I think he found your strangely timed laughter rather endearing."

I was unconvinced of their plan. It sounded quite elaborate and foolish to me, since it would still inevitably result in Queen Kasha's fury. But as we rode on, they continued to work out the finer points and discuss it enthusiastically.

* * *

We reached an inn just as the sunset was coming to an end. Kurit requested two rooms, one for himself and Jarik and another for me. He was, of course, happily accommodated by the innkeeper.

I went up to the room to wash my face and brush my hair, feeling rather dusty and unkempt from the travel and having been working hard before it. Kurit and Jarik went to the pub to order a meal for all of us, and I said I would join them soon.

After making myself more presentable, I hurried back downstairs for the meal. As I entered the pub, I saw them at a table near the back, away from the general rabble. I passed a table of rather drunk and loud ruffians on my way, and one of the lot grabbed my arm as I walked by.

"Come sit with me awhile, pretty thing," he sneered, pulling me into his lap.

My mouth agape in outrage, I promptly shoved my elbow into his ribs. He let me go in surprise, as I expected. I had dealt with such men many times before. I began to walk away, but unlike most of the drunken fools I'd encountered, who would rightly take rejection with little more than a rude comment, this fiend rose after me.

He caught my arm again and forcibly swung me around. I tried to twist myself out of his grasp, but he held tight and began pulling me towards him.

Then he did let go, for the blade of a sword was pointed at his chest. I turned to see Jarik holding the other end and heard him snarl, "The Lady isn't interested."

Kurit was there too, his sword also drawn, sending the room into stunned silence. He held the sword pointed at the man, but a few steps back from Jarik. I went to him, and he put his other arm around me protectively.

The drunk began to blubber at the sight of the blades. He apologized frantically to Jarik, although the words themselves were largely incoherent.

"Don't apologize to me, you filthy mongrel," Jarik said in a dark voice that made me shudder. "Get on your knees and beg the forgiveness of Lady Aenna, the betrothed of Prince Kurit."

The man turned a sickly colour and sank to the floor. He babbled what sounded to be a sincere if not entirely comprehensible apology. As he babbled, Jarik looked at me as if to inquire what I wanted done next.

"Stop your babbling," I said to the man, disgusted by him yet pitying him his unexpected predicament. "I could have Lord Jarik run you through for treating me with such disrespect, but fortunately for you I could not stomach such a thing. So get up and go. But the next time you feel the urge to force yourself upon any woman, consider how close to death you came tonight in doing so. The next lady might enjoy seeing her husband cut you down."

Jarik lowered his blade, and the man shakily rose to his feet. He apologized again, thanked me for my mercy, and ran from the pub out to the night.

The quiet room slowly returned to normal as Kurit and Jarik sheathed their swords. Kurit looked at me with great concern and asked if I was all right.

I nodded and said, "I'll be fine."

Kurit turned to the innkeeper, who began to issue his own profuse apologies. Kurit waved them off and asked that our dinner be brought instead to their room. Of course the innkeeper agreed, so we went upstairs, Kurit's arm never leaving me.

When we went into Kurit and Jarik's room—which was small, yet probably the largest available—Kurit embraced me tightly. It seemed he was more upset than I.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jarik asked, also clearly concerned.

I tried to lighten the mood somewhat by smiling. "Oh, you scared him sufficiently, I should think," I said. "He'll think twice about ever treating any woman like that again." Their worry did not seem to lift at all, so I said, "I should ask if both of you are all right. You look more frightened than I."

Kurit embraced me again, even tighter than before. "Aenna, I don't think you realize what he may have intended."

I rose on my toes to kiss his cheek and then stepped out of his embrace to sit in a chair. "Kurit, I'm not naïve." I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "I know what he wanted. I've dealt with his kind before. Most of the time you can dissuade them with a shove or an elbow to the ribs. Some need a kick in a tender spot to get the message. Then when we bring the next ale, we make sure to slip a little rasset powder in their glass. It makes them tired enough to forget chasing us and go sleep their drunkenness off. It happens rather frequently."

They looked at me wide-eyed, as if they had no idea that men could be such beasts. "I'm sorry if that shocks you both, but you have to understand, that's what life is like for a barmaid. Men get drunk. They come after us. We do what we can to keep them away and hope they don't remember their lust when they wake."

"And if they do?" Jarik asked.

"Most of the time they feel guilty and apologize or pay us extra. Every now and then one gets furious, so they wait until they see you go outside alone, and..." I shrugged, not wanting to be vulgar.

Kurit realized my implication of rape and went pale. "By the Temple!" he cried, rushing to my side.

I quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Kurit, none of them ever got to me. I'm too smart for them. I know how to avoid them until they tire and leave. You need not fret. I'm still a maiden."

"Aenna, that's not what I was concerned about," he said emphatically. "Well, yes, I'm as concerned about that as I ought to be, I suppose, but my first thought was that someone had hurt you!" He looked at me with the same worry that I had seen in his eyes when the bolt had been buried in my shoulder. He took my hand and held it against his chest, and I could feel his heart was racing.

"No, Kurit, it didn't happen to me. In fact, you must understand, that sort of reaction wasn't a common occurrence by any means. Most of these men, they're just drunken fools, and when they sober up they remember their wives who wait for them or their daughters at home, and they feel awful for being such dogs.

"But it does happen. Even at the inn where I worked in Alesha. I suppose I was lucky," I said.

"Luck shouldn't enter into it," Jarik grumbled, taking a seat on one of the beds. "Wretched vagrants."

"Vagrants?" I repeated. "No, Jarik, it's not the poor men who are to be feared. Not at the inns where I worked, where the innkeeper wishes to keep a good reputation. It doesn't do to have unwed mothers in one's employ. No, both innkeepers for whom I worked would cast out any vagrant who became scurrilous. It was the noblemen who we feared."

"Oh, Aenna, really. No nobleman I know of would ever do such a thing," said Kurit.

"Now who's being naïve?" I retorted. "Kurit, they are the worst of the lot! Not most of them, mind you. But of the men who try to have their way with the barmaids, the noblemen are the ones to fear because the innkeeper won't risk his life or business to stop them, and there is no recourse for the poor girl afterwards."

Kurit turned to Jarik, and they exchanged a look of disbelief.

"You don't believe me?"

"Forgive us, Aenna," Jarik replied hurriedly. "It's not that we doubt your words, but it's an alarming thing to hear."

"I can't imagine anyone I know being such a vile cad," said Kurit.

"Well, it happens," I bluntly stated. "They do it because they can, and if she tries to cause trouble afterward, well, it's his word against hers, and who would you believe? The little peasant tramp who got herself in a fix, or the noble lord who denies it ever happened? My kind are always assumed to be wretched little liars."

The two men stared at me uncomfortably, and then both averted their eyes as they realized that I spoke the truth.

"I never thought of it before," Jarik quietly admitted, his voice full of shame.

"Nor I," said Kurit, but with more anger than Jarik. "Aenna, give me names. I want the names of men who call themselves noble and would do such a thing."

"Why?" I asked, looking at him incredulously. "Are you going to ride up to their door and accuse them, with no proof but my word?"

"Well, I can't very well sit and do nothing! I had no idea such things occurred!"

"Kurit, that's the life of the poor. We live under the whim and rule of the nobility. And most of the time, we're fine. Not every nobleman who comes to the inn is a brute. I remember once, several years ago, Lord Cael himself stopped at our inn, and he was most kind. He was friendly and courteous, even to myself and the other barmaids. And before he retired, he gave each of us three gold coins. I bought a new dress, which I sorely needed, and we each bought our own hairbrushes, and some scented bath salts, and still had enough left to save for another day.

"Most of the rest of them come in, have their food and ale, stay the night, and leave without incident. It's just the rare brute, and honestly, you can't stop them without following every man to every inn and watching their every move."

Jarik sat staring at the wall, shaking his head slowly, in sadness or anger I could not tell. "I cannot accept that there is nothing to be done."

I realized this was the opportunity to change a great injustice. I had the ear of the future King and his cousin, so I said, "If you truly want to punish them, there is a way that may work."

"What is it?" Kurit asked eagerly.

"I remember one time, a son of a distant province's lord—don't ask me his name, I don't recall it, honestly—he took a fancy to Elaene, my friend, who being rather dim didn't heed my advice to put the rasset in his wine. He wasn't even drunk when he dragged her up to his room. There were not many people at the inn that night, just this young lord and his entourage. The other barmaid and I, we wept for Elaene, because we could hear her screams. The innkeeper was angry, but did nothing.

"But I noticed others who were very upset: his two guards. They were of the King's Guard, and though they were loyal to the young lord, I saw in their faces a great hatred for him when he returned. They probably had daughters or sisters who work at inns and knew all too well that their own kin might fall prey to the same fate."

"So what are you advising, that they be allowed to slay the lord they are sworn to protect?" Jarik asked.

"No," I said. "That would be helpful to the poor girl, but if a guard ever misunderstood his lord's harmless flirting as a potential danger..."

"Plus we cannot allow the chain of command to degrade. There would be too many other repercussions," Kurit said as he finally left my side to take a seat of his own.

"But what if you empowered the King's Guards to make testimony against the lord whom they serve?" I suggested.

"How would that help?" Jarik asked.

"Right now, if that same event occurred today," I hypothesized, "could those enraged guards have reported to their captain or another lord or whomever what had occurred?"

"I suppose they could," Kurit mused, "but if they've taken an oath of loyalty, then an honourable man would not break his oath and question his lord's behaviour."

"But an honourable man would wish to stop a dishonourable act," I said.

Kurit nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, he would. It would be a question of which was the greater dishonour—to break an oath or to uphold the law."

"That's a difficult question," Jarik said. "A man's oath is his honour. But the King's Guards swear an oath to uphold the law and act in righteousness. It would be a question of which oath to break."

"And given that breaking the oath against his lord could mean expulsion..." started Kurit.

"Or worse punishments, depending on how he broke the oath," Jarik interjected.

"... then inevitably the man would chose to serve his lord." Kurit leaned forward in the chair, resting his forehead on his entwined hands.

"Then change the oath sworn to the lords to include a phrase that says, 'I swear this oath on the condition that my lord does not harm the innocent,'" I suggested.

Kurit sat back up and shook his head. "No, the oath cannot contain a condition. The point of an oath is to swear allegiance, even when it is difficult to give it."

"But," said Jarik, "it could be made law that the King's Guards must uphold their pledge to the King, to uphold the law, above any other oath made."

"So then they could strike against a lord who was doing wrong," I added.

Kurit rose from his chair and began to pace about the room, rubbing his chin in thought. "No, that would never pass as law. The Council would not approve."

"What if it became part of their oath to the King to report any lawbreaking, by anyone, and then that must be upheld above any other oath?" I asked.

"That won't save the girl who is assaulted," Jarik sighed.

"No," I agreed. "It won't. But perhaps if the men who commit such crimes knew their guards would be obliged to report it..."

"They would be less likely to commit the offence in the first place," Jarik finished.

Kurit continued to pace, tapping his finger to his lips as he pondered our idea. "It is certainly a matter worth discussing with my father. I'll tell him what we discussed and ask if he thinks your solution is a viable one." He sat back down near me and took my hand, still deep in thought. He stared at my hand, fixated on it as he pondered this terrible truth I had revealed.

"I am glad you brought this matter to our attention, Aenna," Jarik said, looking at me with concern. "I am grateful to the Gods that you were not hurt yourself."

Kurit raised my hand to his lips and pressing it there, his eyes closed. "I think I'd go into a mad rage if you told me anyone had done such a thing to you," he said in a voice rough with anger and sorrow. "I'd hunt him down and put my blade through his vile heart."

I moved my hand to his cheek and caressed it softly to reassure him. "I'm very fortunate to not have to worry about my own safety any more."

"You certainly don't," Jarik said emphatically. "I would cut down anyone who dared to hurt you."

I smiled at him, not just because I appreciated his protection, but also because I wanted them both to stop brooding on such a horrible subject, now that a possible means to reduce such activity had been proposed. "I am grateful that I have two dear men to protect me. I wish every woman did."

Kurit nodded slowly, still upset. "We'll do what we can, Aenna. Thank you for your wisdom in this." He kissed my hand again and looked at me dearly. "This is why I keep telling you that you will be a worthy Queen. There is so much that you know that we do not. You have lived as one of the people, and your experiences lend you insights that no lady of the court could ever possess." He rose and came to me. I stood to let him hold me. He lifted me from the ground and carried me to an armless chair. He sat there, holding me on his lap, cradling me as though I had been hurt and he was trying to comfort me. He kissed my forehead several times, rocking me softly, and it was comforting to us both, so I let him continue until our meals arrived.

We ate quietly, the men picking at their food, still upset. I felt empathy for them, but I had lived with these truths for such a long time that I could not share their fresh outrage, so I ate my full meal, and was glad to have it.

After we finished, Jarik asked if I felt safe to sleep in my own room and offered to stand watch outside my door. I declined his sweet offer and assured them that I would bolt the door, and since they were beside me I could easily call them if I needed to.

Kurit escorted me to my room, which was much smaller but certainly adequate. He held me in his arms for a long time and then kissed me softly.

"Are you certain you will be well on your own in here?" he asked. There was an edge to his voice, and I felt guilty for making him so upset with the awful truths I had told. I kissed him, then held him tight, and assured him once again that I was fine. As my head rested on his chest, I could hear that his heart was still pounding in worry.

"I'm sorry I told you those things, but I really thought it common knowledge," I said.

"No, no, Aenna, don't be sorry. You are not at fault for the truth. These are things we should be aware of. It is revolting that I had to hear it from you, but don't blame yourself for that. I'm glad you told us. You must promise to never withhold a truth from me, no matter how upset you think I shall be."

"If that's what you wish."

"It is. It is unpleasant to hear such things, but it would be a thousand times worse to not hear them and let the injustices continue." He squeezed me tight, and I did likewise. Then he kissed me goodnight, and as he left he told me to bolt the door immediately and be sure to bang on the wall between our rooms if I needed him.

"For anything, Aenna. Even if you're just upset and cannot sleep."

I agreed and bolted the door as soon as he closed it. I did it roughly, that he might hear it and relax.

Once I was ready for bed and had tucked myself under the covers, I became aware that I could hear voices through the wall between our rooms. Kurit was easily audible, as most of what he said was done so exuberantly, and because Jarik's bed shared a wall with my own, I was even able to hear his softer, lower voice. I would have simply gone to sleep and ignored them, but I heard my name mentioned and couldn't help but listen.

"Don't so easily dismiss Aenna's insecurity," Jarik advised, "or it will feed on itself and might cause her to run away again."

Kurit's response sounded exasperated. "I do realize that, Jarik. I wasn't trying to make light of it. It's just frustrating trying to convince her repeatedly that I mean what I say."

I remembered being told as a child that eavesdroppers only hear ill of themselves. Hearing Kurit's weariness of trying to convince me to be with him filled me with remorse.

"I don't think she doubts your convictions," said Jarik, which was true, and I was glad Kurit would hear it. "She simply doesn't believe that you are correct in them." That also was true, though I regretted it.

"So tell her yourself," Kurit replied. "You agree with me."

"Why do you think I put her hand in yours?"

Kurit chuckled. "That was very smooth of you."

"I didn't do it to be smooth, you vile rogue," Jarik retorted.

"Righteous half-wit," Kurit teased in return.

Jarik came back again with: "Contemptible knave."

I stifled a giggle at their silliness.

"I had the wit to deduce that your words weren't convincing her, and I thought maybe another opinion would help," Jarik continued.

"Clearly, it did."

"Well, don't be a fool and think she's going merrily along with you. It's entirely obvious that she's distraught still." Jarik's words continued to hit the mark, and though I was glad to have someone expressing my feelings without it having to be myself, it was eerie that this man knew what was in my heart when I had hardly ever spoken with him.

"So, oh wise lover of women," Kurit mocked, "what do you suggest I do, if she doesn't believe my praises?"

Jarik was quiet for a moment and then replied, "Keep good on your promise to tell your father about this unpleasant trend we've somehow missed. Give her credit for bringing it to your attention. Show everyone back home that she has something to offer, and that will prove to her that she does."

I considered what he proposed and thought that, indeed, I would be more apt to believe Kurit's kind words of my worth if I saw that I could help to reduce such injustices. I smiled to myself in the darkness, wondering what it would be like to have ideas for solutions that could actually become implemented in meaningful ways. What a delight that would be!

"I intend to bring up the matter," said Kurit. "It's revolting. But your advice is sound, for a pious half-wit." I don't know what Jarik did in response to the tease, but I did hear a sudden thud from their room, followed by a loud "oof" grunt from Kurit. I suspected the much larger and stronger Jarik had whacked him with a pillow or perhaps thrown a boot at him.

Kurit moaned exaggeratedly and said, "Brute!"

"Weakling," muttered Jarik in mock derision. His comment was followed by another brief noise of commotion.

"Cursed thug!" Kurit moaned.

"Kick me again, and I'll tear your leg off," Jarik threatened without inflection. I briefly wondered if he was kidding, but the ensuing silliness quickly relieved that concern.

"Pah," Kurit jeered.

"I'll ram it down your scrawny neck."

"Go ahead and try," Kurit dared him.

"You'll suffer indigestion from wiggling your toes," Jarik said in a forced monotone.

I had stifled my giggles at first, lest they should hear me and know I had been listening, but Jarik's last line made me laugh out loud despite my efforts. Thankfully, by the time my mirth could not be contained, they were already laughing loudly themselves and would not have heard me.

As the laughter in both rooms subsided and they fell to talking of other things, I drifted to sleep happily for the first time since leaving Endren.

Sometime during the night I woke in alarm, hearing footsteps outside my door. I sat bolt upright, hand raised to bang on the wall, pausing only to see if whoever was there would try to open my door. It seemed, however, that the soul in the darkness was content to remain still.

I very quietly rose from the bed and tiptoed to the door. Kneeling, I put my head on the floor to look under the door, and peering into the darkness I saw only what appeared to be a man's feet, standing still against the wall across from my room. I heard a soft noise, and then there was a small amount of light near the man.

Carefully and quietly, I rose to full kneeling height to peer out the keyhole, sure that he could not be looking in from across the hall.

There stood Jarik, having just lit a wall lantern, and I sighed in relief. He rubbed absently at his eyes, looking quite tired. By his posture, though, he didn't seem about to leave. I watched for a minute or so as he stood there, guarding my door.

I considered telling him to go to bed, but in truth I felt that much safer that he was there. And I had told him not to bother to guard me, yet there he was, so clearly he intended to do so with or without my request.

I rose slowly to my feet and returned to bed, sleeping all the easier for knowing that such a good man watched over me.

* * *

We left early in the morning's light, as we wished to reach Endren before it was dark. I rode side-saddle again with Kurit, but the narrower path through the forests in this region prevented Jarik from riding alongside us. He led the way, always the Prince's protector.

The horses settled into a steady, quick pace. I rested my head on Kurit's chest and tried not to feel nervous about our return.

In time, the rhythmic rocking motion of the horse and the fresh air combined with being so close to Kurit—hearing his heart beat even over the rush of wind and thunder of hooves, being enveloped in his warmth and alluring masculine scent—it all aroused me. I closed my eyes in daydreams, thinking impure thoughts, fantasizing about a wedding night of passion. Soon the fantasies were so lustful I grew embarrassed and tried to shake them away.

I moved my head to gaze up at him. He caught my glance and smiled down at he. That smile—I know it sounds ridiculously girlish, but it made my heart flutter. He loved me. I knew that he loved me.

He lowered his head and kissed me, and I was so very aroused that I could not help but return it enthusiastically. After the kiss, I rested my head against his chest again, burning inside with my thoughts of fantasy.

"Mmmm," came the happy sound, resonating in his chest. Of course, I was embarrassed at my thoughts and hoped he had not sensed my arousal in the kiss.

"What is it?" I asked, raising my head again to look at him innocently.

He leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "That was no innocent kiss, my dear."

I looked away, trying to hide any blush that might have appeared. "I don't know what you mean," I said, hoping to sound truthful.

Again he whispered right to my ear, "If that were true, you wouldn't be blushing so deeply."

That certainly did not help me at all. I felt my face grow very warm. After a moment, I dared to look at him, only to see him give me a roguish wink.

Determined not to allow this behaviour to continue—on his part or my own—I forced myself to give him a reproachful look. I tried in my own mind to pretend I had not thought anything the least bit lewd.

But then the rascal whispered to me again, saying, "Don't give me a scolding look because of your impure thoughts." Then he laughed softly, mischievously.

I tried to look indignant but felt the blush rise again. Oh, he was a cad, and yet his brash words aroused me all the more!

He laughed softly again and then whispered, "You think me a beast for saying that, don't you?"

"Yes, you are a beast," I said, for he was.

"Only because you want me to be one," he replied and kissed me with a fiery passion that threatened to expose just how right he was.

I forced myself to pull away, breathless from excitement and embarrassment. "No, that's not... I thought no such thing!" I stammered pathetically.

"You don't desire me?" he whispered with mock pain.

"Yes, but—"

"And your kiss betrayed the lust in your heart."

"But I—"

"And we are to be wed, so there's no shame in it."

I was deeply embarrassed nonetheless. Then something occurred to me, and I decided to use what I could to no longer be the guilty one in this game. "Then why are you whispering, if there's no shame in what you say?" I asked.

He had no quick rogue's answer to that! After a moment he admitted, "Because if Jarik up there heard me speaking to you like this, he'd likely land his fist in my face."

I tried not to smile as I said, "Is he not as scurrilous a knave as you?"

Kurit leaned back from me and brought his hand to his heart, feigning that I had wounded him with my jest.

I sat proudly in the saddle and said, "If you can't behave, perhaps I should ride with him."

His face fell as he pretended to sulk. "Very well, I'll be good."

"Very well then." We rode quietly for a few minutes, I trying my best not to smile at him. It didn't work. He was such a silly fool.

Eventually he leaned to whisper in my ear again, saying, "But there was lust in your kiss."

I made a move as if I intended to grab the reins and stop the horse, though of course I would never do anything so foolishly dangerous. He put them in one hand and held them far to the side above my legs, where I could not reach them. He laughed and said, "Sorry, sorry, I'll be good. I promise."

I tried again to give him a reproachful look to imply that he had better behave, but his false look of innocence made me laugh. I shook my head at him, unable to stop smiling. He was being a beast, all the worse for knowing I did truly enjoy his naughtiness.

I rested my head against him again, and he put his arms back around me to take the reins in both hands again. He kissed my forehead gently and said, "See? I can be good. I'll do whatever you wish, Aenna, so long as you stay with me."

I felt immediately guilty for hurting him by leaving. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't want to go."

"Oh, I didn't mean that. I know you felt that you had to. I understand that, and I don't blame you," he said seriously and then smiled again. "I just meant I don't want you to call Jarik back here."

"Because you don't want me to ride with him, or because you're afraid he'll cause you injury?"

He laughed loudly and said, "Both!"

"Does he frequently injure you?"

"No, not really. When we were boys we wrestled all the time, all in good fun, as boys are wont to do. Then he grew so much bigger than I. Probably because I had to take more indoor classes, and he had to study more arts of battle, not to mention the extra two years of age he had on his side. Our play fighting became dangerous; he once accidentally dislocated my shoulder. He felt guilty for a long time but seems to be over that now," he said sarcastically. "Now he's such a skilled warrior that he can knock me senseless before I can even react, and if I try the same on him, I pay for it."

I schooled my expression to not reveal that I knew that well, having heard them the night before. "And do you think he'd knock you senseless if he knew how wretchedly naughty you were a moment ago?"

He gave me a wry look and then said innocently, "I'm being good now, so I won't indulge that with a response."

"That's very sweet," I replied with a kiss on his cheek, making him smile. "You're more like brothers than cousins."

Kurit nodded. "The fact is, I like that he is too fast for any trick I try. It's reassuring to know that I'm less likely to be assassinated when he's around. I greatly admire his skill. But," he said, waving his finger at me in mock threat, "if you tell him I said that, I'll deny it, and then when we're alone I'll tickle you until you scream."

"Beast," I said and then laughed. He pretended to glare at me, saying nothing, though I could tell he wanted to.

"You'll injure yourself," I teased, "biting your tongue so hard."

He gave me that wry look again and retorted, "You don't play fairly."

"Oh?"

"You tease me, but if I tease you, you threaten to summon Lord Righteousness up there to come and beat me."

"Oh, dear," I said, trying to be sympathetic. "I'm sorry." I kissed his cheek again. "I'll behave as well, then."

He nuzzled against me and growled into my ear so close that it tickled, "I'd rather you didn't."

I looked at him, wide-eyed at his blunt words of lust, and promptly gave him my elbow in the ribs.

He recoiled and moaned, pretending I had injured him far worse than I knew I had. "Fine then," he said, a silly pout on his lips. "I'll just sit here and let you both beat on me."

He was so endearing, pretending to be wounded when I knew all too well that he had meant to illicit an outraged response. I knew by then that he took great enjoyment in making me blush. His cute little pout was just too much to let go, though, so I kissed him apologetically.

I had meant it to be a quick and sweet kiss, but he held my head to his own and made it a fiery and passionate one. The tip of his tongue brushed my lips, and I returned the gesture, making him moan softly in delight. We kissed for some time, and I could feel his arousal as the horse's movement rocked him against my hip. My desire was horribly unladylike, and I didn't care.

When finally he ended the barrage of kissing, he moved the hand that had held my head to caress my cheek tenderly. I could not tell if the love in his eyes was from arousal or innocent adoration. Breathlessly he whispered, so quietly that I almost could not hear him, "Do what you will to me. I'm yours."

Then he pulled me to him, and I rested my head on his chest once more. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, wondering how I possibly could have thought I could live without this man. We managed to behave ourselves for the rest of the ride to Endren, choosing instead to remain locked in an embrace that would undoubtedly be the last time we could be so close until we were wed.

### Chapter 7

NIGHT FELL, AND we were still an hour from the city by the men's estimates. Kurit cradled me to him protectively, which made me wonder if they knew something about this area that I did not. Perhaps it was known for bandits or thieves.

"Why are you so worried?" I asked him as the horses galloped at high speed.

He smiled at me reassuringly and said, "Everything is fine, Aenna."

"Don't patronize me," I chastised. "I'm not afraid of the dark, nor am I afraid to be out in it. But your obvious concern since the sun went down is making me afraid."

He gave me a tender glance, keeping his eyes mostly on the road where they belonged. "It's just more dangerous to be out at night. It's easier to miss a hole in the road that can injure one's horse; it's easier for thieves to hide in ambush. But we'll be home soon. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Aenna. I would never let anyone hurt you."

He spoke the truth, for we did reach the south gates to Endren safely. As they admitted us—the gates being locked already for the night—he bent to kiss my cheek and said, "See? I told you I'd keep you safe." Then he turned to the guard as we passed and said, "You saw only Jarik and I arrive. There was no one with me."

"Yes, Your Highness. Welcome home," the guard replied in salute.

"Why did you say that?" I asked as we rode through the gate area.

"He doesn't want the Queen to suspect you're here," Jarik replied. He stopped his horse and dismounted. "Kurit, I'll take Aenna to the temple, if you'll guide both horses back."

"I suppose that would be best. The pubs will empty soon, and I shouldn't be seen just yet with you or rumours will fly," Kurit said as he helped me dismount into Jarik's kindly waiting hands.

I felt awfully stiff, and the leg that had been pushed up against the horn of the saddle was numb. Jarik held my arm as I walked to stretch it.

Kurit dismounted as well and came to me. Jarik stepped back to give us a moment in relative privacy.

"I won't be able to see you for a few days," he said to me tenderly as we embraced.

"I shall be fine."

"I know. Jarik will be there for you. Don't hesitate to call on him for whatever you need."

"He's a good friend."

"Indeed he is. He likes you very much, Aenna. I think he fancies himself your protector more than mine."

I nodded. "I know a secret," I whispered. When Kurit looked at me inquisitively, I continued, "He stood watch outside my door last night. I saw him, through the keyhole."

Kurit glanced in Jarik's direction and nodded. "You weren't supposed to know that. Don't tell him that you saw him. He'll be embarrassed." He caressed my cheek, and I could not resist the temptation to move my face against his hand. His touch was so sweet, and I had ached for it while I had been away from him. He kissed me tenderly, a kiss full of worry over the imminent separation.

"I love you," I whispered when our lips parted. He held me tightly, only letting go when Jarik's polite cough prompted us to finish our temporary good-byes.

"When you come to me next, when I announce you are to be my bride, we shall not be separated again. Not by anything," he said. I could tell by the eloquence of his words and the manner in which they were delivered that he had rehearsed the farewell in his mind for some time, perhaps the whole ride that day. But rehearsed or not, it was very sweet, and I admit that I felt somewhat weak-kneed in his embrace.

Jarik stood beside us and offered me his arm. I laughed softly. "You both make me feel like such a lady," I said, putting my arm in Jarik's while still holding Kurit's hand.

In perfect, absurd unison they both replied, "You are a lady." I burst into very unladylike laughter as a result. They chuckled as well.

Then Kurit's face grew serious. "Take care of her," he charged.

"On my honour, she shall be well cared for until you meet again," Jarik solemnly said. I suppressed a shiver. Their sudden formality was strange and somewhat eerie.

Kurit nodded at Jarik, kissed my hand, and then left with the horses. Jarik and I stood, arm in arm, watching him disappear around the first corner.

"The Temple is not far," Jarik said softly, and I let him lead me away.

"He'll be safe going home alone?"

"Along that road, yes. There are dangerous parts of town, naturally, but the main road is well guarded, and he doesn't have far to go."

We walked quietly for a bit after that, but at that late hour our footsteps echoed about the high walls of the houses. The homes were joined in rows, narrow but tall. Light peeked out of the shutters from a few windows, but for the most part the city slept.

"It looks so different," I whispered.

A perplexed look crossed his face. "How so?"

"I've never seen Endren without snow."

"Ah," he said.

A loud noise erupted from a pub down the street, and two very drunk men came out, singing rowdy songs. Their sudden appearance startled me, and Jarik noticed my jolt.

"Fear not, Aenna. They mean us no harm, and no one could harm you as long as I am with you."

"Oh, I know. It was the sudden interruption to the stillness that startled me."

"Of course." He nodded seriously. "It's hard to remember that you're used to drunkenness. I confess I find the notion disturbing."

"Jarik," I started to say reassuringly, "what we spoke of last night is truly a rare occurrence..."

"No, not that. The image of you labouring, scrubbing tables, fetching ale for ungrateful drunkards. It bothers me." He sighed. "I've only known you a short time, but I've found you to be very bright and incredibly noble. No one of such high honour should have to waste their mind on trivial, manual tasks. It disturbs me to think that there may be others like you, people who, by their actions, are more deserving of the title of nobility than some of the wretches who have been born to it."

"There are such people," I said. "Surely, this cannot be a new concept to you?"

"I am ashamed to say that it is. When one is raised in the comfort of the highest class, it is hard to imagine that one's servant might be one's intellectual superior. That is not to say that it is appropriate to abuse or disdain those of lower class, and I swear to you, I have made a concerted effort to not do anything of the sort. But I admit that I never considered, as example, that the woman who sweeps the Great Hall might secretly be a genius."

For some time, I did not know how to respond. I had thought this failing of class would be obvious. It certainly was to those of us at the bottom. Eventually I replied, "I suppose then, that's why the Queen dislikes me. If a peasant can be worthy of her son—"

"Then her butler may be worthy of holding land, or her maid worthy of gracious respect." Jarik nodded. "You won't change that, Aenna. Please, don't go on a quest to eliminate class. That's been attempted before, through revolts, through other marriages between classes, and though some may rise and prove themselves worthy, they are considered rare gems in the rough, not indications of lower class ability. Don't run yourself into the ground trying to change people who firmly do not wish to be changed."

"There is no hope, then," I said, for I had been thinking of precisely that.

"I wouldn't say that. You've enlightened me. You've got Kurit's head spinning so fast he can't remember what class he's in, let alone care what yours is. When you prove to the naysayers that you are worthy—and you will, Aenna, truly you will—then that shall be more powerful a message than any grandiose speeches of equality."

Having reached the steps of the Temple, he stopped and took my hands in his own. "I just don't want to see you battle against stupidity and drive yourself mad in the process. I could not bear to see you hurt. Know that you are worthy, Aenna. If you doubt Kurit because he loves you and you suspect it has made him blind to reality, I understand that. But my head is clear, and I tell you without the slightest doubt that you will be a better wife and a better Queen to him than any of the so-called noblewomen living in that palace. Believe me, Aenna—I know of what I speak."

Before I could respond, either in doubt or thanks, he was guiding me up the steps and through the temple door.

* * *

Abbott Jhin was the only other who learned of the plan, and he was delighted by it. He treated me with great respect, but I knew it was largely motivated from a dislike of Queen Kasha. Nonetheless, he saw to it that I was immediately housed comfortably and, of course, allowed to take a hot bath.

I remained sequestered in the Temple residences until the day of the announcement arrived, seeing only the Abbott, Jarik, and the acolyte who brought me food in the meantime. Jarik had come to me frequently, always concerned that I was well and heaping much praise upon me, lest I should run away again. On the afternoon of the day of the announcement, he came with a surprise. He had arranged secretly for Leiset to be relieved of the assignment she had undertaken as a mere assistant to another maidservant after I left. He brought her to me that afternoon that she might help me dress and adorn myself for the event to come.

The moment he left, Leiset began to apologize, but I cut her off. "None of what has occurred is your fault, Leiset. Honestly, I have heard how upset you were, and it is I who should apologize to you."

Thankfully, we agreed then and there to put an end to silly, girlish battles of apology and decided that it was best to start fresh. I told her briefly the story of how Kurit had convinced me to return. She kept sighing, telling me it was incredibly romantic—so much so in fact that I wondered if our love was truly that nauseating.

She had brought with her the only dress the tailor had finished before I left, but at least it was my size. It was a formal black gown with long sleeves that featured a gold thread weave pattern. The neckline was appropriately modest, which I was glad of, since I did not wish my scar to show. When I told Leiset that it looked to me like an odd, crinkled little mouth on my shoulder, she burst into laughter. She almost fainted with merriment when I became silly enough to move my shoulder and pretend it could talk.

Once I was ready, I began to feel nervous and could no longer mask it with jest. The days spent in the Temple had relaxed me, for it was nostalgic, reminding me of my childhood but without the chores or being constantly told to mind my tongue. Now that the time was approaching when what I thought was a rather foolish plan would cast me back into the palace, I grew apprehensive and fidgety.

Jarik came to fetch me in good time and saw my nervousness immediately. He kissed my hand decorously and said, "Will you please relax? We will make this work, I promise you, Aenna."

Outside the Temple there waited a carriage drawn by two horses. I had never ridden in a carriage before, and, I admit, I was enchanted by the idea. It was the sort of thing that happened in legends and bards' songs: a handsome man taking a lady to a palace in a carriage.

The carriage stopped outside the palace doors. Jarik bade me take his arm and led me swiftly into the corner of the corridor leading to the Great Hall. I stood quietly behind a huge pillar while Jarik approached the Hall to signal Kurit that we had arrived. Jarik returned to me as I heard Kurit ask for the attention of all in the room.

I wish I could write what Kurit said, for I am certain his words were elegant and in great praise of me, though of course not by name. But while he spoke, I was too busy avoiding unconsciousness to actually pay attention to what he said.

When Jarik came to take my arm, I went pale and found it hard to breathe. Full panic had set in. I am ashamed to this day of it, but I lost complete control and could not prevent it. Jarik actually had to use a corner of a tapestry on the wall to fan me as he spoke to me in rushed whispers.

"Aenna, the only thing you have to worry about now is your own self-doubt! If you go in there looking meek and frightened, they'll run roughshod over you. But if you walk in there proudly, head held high as their future Queen, then they will accept you!"

He was right. Panic would only allow them all to confirm that I was unworthy. I commanded myself to take control, convincing myself that even if I was not worthy, I had to at least pretend I was. That was the key, I decided—to ensure the appearance of competency, even if I felt that I lacked it.

I heard Kurit stop speaking. Jarik said, "This is it, Aenna. Either you go in there and show them Kurit's choice is sound, or you set yourself up to fail. Make the decision. He's waiting for us."

I took a deep breath and held it. I straightened my back and schooled my face to betray no fear. Then I took Jarik's arm and let him lead me into the Great Hall.

As we approached, I saw the dinner tables full of people, all of whom were turned towards me. Fright threatened to strike again, so I turned my eyes to Kurit, who stood smiling, holding a beckoning arm to me. I focused solely on him as Jarik led me in that direction. I knew if I dared to look at Queen Kasha, my resolve to show only pride and strength would crumble.

We arrived where Kurit stood in front of the head table. Jarik graciously let go of my arm and bowed. Kurit took my hands in his and loudly proclaimed, "Lady Aenna of Alesha, you do me a great honour in agreeing to be my bride." He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them sweetly for all to see.

I heard a sound and looked up at the head table to see the Queen rising to her feet. I froze, for this is where I had thought their plan would fail. Now she shall decry me publicly, and Kurit shall explode back at her in fury, I thought. I braced myself for the coming trouble.

Then, just as she seemed about to speak, Jarik exclaimed joyously, "Pour the wine and fetch the musicians, for there shall be a royal wedding in three months' time!"

The lords and ladies of court at their tables, who had been seated with mouths agape in shock, accepted Jarik's cue and stood to applaud. In the midst of their approval, hesitant though it was, Jarik again shouted, "And on their wedding day, there shall be a great tournament, for the new Princess shall require a Champion. Any man aspiring to this noble title is invited to arrive that day in his armour, ready to prove his worth!" The crowd applauded again, that time punctuating the noise with several enthusiastic cheers.

They left their seats and crowded around Kurit and me, some to stare, others to offer congratulations. I saw in the corner of my eye that Queen Kasha was on her way to me as well, and my heart beat rapidly in anxiety. But just before she was at my side, Kurit took my arm and whisked me away to another part of the room, ostensibly to introduce me to an elderly gentleman who had not left his seat.

And so this mad dance of avoidance continued for some time. Queen Kasha would manage to nod and smile to whomever was speaking to her, then set off in my direction. Jarik and Kurit worked as a veritable comedic team, taking turns blocking me from view and then dragging me around the room, always with exaggerated comments such as, "Oh, Aenna, you simply must meet Lord Such-and-Such over here!" or "Come this way, Aenna, to hear Lady Whomever's delightful tale of her trip to the shores of Penklin!" No such tale or introduction was ever properly completed, however, because again I would be swept away to avoid the Queen.

I suppose she must have tired of the chase, for after some time I stood with Jarik and some wretched elderly Lord who insisted on staring at my bosom, only to see the Queen approach Kurit. He was standing near the Great Hall's northern exit. She stood beside him for a moment, spoke to him, and then stormed out of the Hall. He caught my eye and smiled wryly. Then he shrugged, straightened his tunic, turned on one heel like a solider, and followed his mother.

I looked to Jarik and saw immediately that he had witnessed the departure as well.

"What's to be done now?" I asked.

"Come," he said gently. "It looks as though they went into the map room. We shall wait for Kurit in the Council room. We won't be intruding upon them, but we shall be close by if we're needed."

The Council room was long and seemed very narrow with the enormous table that filled it. Numerous chairs were placed around the table with an ornately carved one at the head. I sat at Jarik's insistence, and he took the seat beside me. We faced the door that joined the map room to the Council room.

It was not long before the discussion next door had turned sufficiently ugly that we could hear the muffled shouts of anger from both parties. The sound chilled me for many reasons, greatest among them the knowledge that I was causing a terrible rift between a mother and her son.

The door to the Hall opened behind us, and in walked King Tarken. With a polite nod to both of us, he took his seat in the ornate chair. He sat in silence, his hands folded neatly before him, his face unreadable.

Over the next few minutes—which seemed as hours—the volume of their shouting grew enough that we could make out some of their words. I said a prayer in my mind to the Gods to please not have to hear their words, but the prayer went unanswered. We heard Queen Kasha roar that I had bewitched Kurit and that she had removed me from his sight for his own good. Kurit shouted back again and again that she had no right to send me away when she knew that he had chosen me to be his bride. The Queen argued that I had no honour, since I had promised her that I would deny him if he found me, and he spat back something about the insane efforts he had to go through to make me undo those promises.

And so it went, back and forth, until I could bear it no longer. I rose to my feet and headed to the map room door.

Jarik was instantly on his feet beside me. "Aenna, no. Do not go in there. Kurit can handle this."

"He shouldn't have to!" I went to reach for the door, but Jarik held my arm firmly. "Jarik, I appreciate your desire to protect me, but I cannot sit here idly as they tear each other apart over me. I won't sit by and be the cause of disaster without trying to do something to stop it!"

I opened the door with the arm that he did not hold and entered as he finally let me go.

There, on either side of the centre table, stood my beloved Kurit and his mother, both with eyes ablaze in fury, faces red from shouting. They turned to me as I entered.

"Aenna, go. This is not your battle," Kurit said with a hard edge to his voice that I knew was not directed at me.

"It is my battle, Kurit. I will not let you suffer it alone on my behalf," I said, their infectious anger filling me as well.

"Listen to that," Queen Kasha snarled. "She defies you already! Are you so blinded by her pretty face and tawdry offerings that you cannot see how she yearns to control you?"

"Enough!" Kurit shouted, slamming the table with his fist, a horrific look on his face of anger and revulsion towards the Queen. The tendons of his neck stood out as he growled, "I will not stand here and let you abuse her!" And so the overlapping shouts of fury began again, ringing horribly in my ears.

"Stop this, both of you!" I heard myself shout. The shock of my words stopped them both in mid-word, and they looked at me in sudden silence. Had I not been so furious at this display, I would have cowered under the Queen's stare, but my anger drove my wild tongue to speak my mind.

"Kurit, I dearly appreciate that you are defending me, but you must realize that your mother seeks to protect you. She doesn't know me. She has every right and reason to suspect my motives, and it is up to me to prove myself worthy in her eyes. It is not right for you to be in a shouting match with your mother, let alone with the Queen! You cannot protect me from my duty to prove myself, and you cannot condemn her for wanting to protect her son and her kingdom!"

I turned next to Queen Kasha, who I had hoped would hear what I had thought to be reasonable words and subsequently provide less resistance. But her eyes remained full of fury, and that enraged me anew. Fists clenched at my sides, I stood my ground and made my speech. "Forgive my bluntness, Your Majesty, but Kurit has chosen me not because of bewitching or trickery on my part! I fought against his love though it almost killed me to do so. But he loves me—that you must accept and understand, and understand further that his love is such that without me he is less able to fulfill his duty. I am not some cheap trollop seeking the throne in an ill-conceived game of treachery and manipulation! I realize that I do not share his past of wealth and prestige, but he believes that I can rise above my roots to serve my kingdom well, and I swear to you now that I shall not rest as I endeavour to meet those expectations. Give me a chance and I shall prove myself to you, or banish me away and watch your son wallow in despair and fail his kingdom as a result!"

My rapid tirade came to an abrupt end, and I stood facing her defiantly, fists still clenched at my sides, my chest heaving in breathlessness from the shouting.

Queen Kasha's eyes narrowed, and she snarled, "How dare you speak to me that way, you—"

Before she could release another barrage of insults, King Tarken silenced her, having entered behind me. "That's enough. All of you." He moved closer to the centre of the room and looked quietly at each of us. I knew this was the moment of truth, that the King would make his decision. I could not guess his emotion by his face. With a quiet air of ultimate authority, he spoke.

"This young woman has displayed dedication in warning Kurit about the approaching threat to his life. She has displayed bravery and strength in taking an arrow meant for our son. She has displayed a willingness to sacrifice her own desires in leaving Kurit but also demonstrated her love for him in coming back to face this scene, in which she has again demonstrated strength, wisdom, and confidence.

"I am satisfied that she has proven herself worthy in Kurit's eyes. I believe that he is not making decisions based on lust or infatuation. I have seen how he is unable to function well when she is not present, and that is his weakness to overcome, not hers. She may be less educated than I would prefer, but if my son truly wishes to wed her, she should be given the chance to learn that which she does not know. After all, I don't plan to leave this world in the immediate future, so there is plenty of time for her to be tutored and gain some experience before she need apply it."

The King looked at me and asked, "Where have you been staying?"

"She has been sequestered in the Temple, Majesty," said Jarik.

King Tarken turned to him and nodded. "Arrange for her belongings to be moved to the palace then, thank you, Jarik. Kurit, I leave it to you to arrange for the room that was to be hers some time ago to be prepared again for her and to ensure she has a maidservant immediately."

Kurit nodded and said, "We've already had Leiset working for her again as of this afternoon."

"Good," the King said and turned again to me. "Leiset will introduce you to Kordos, the tutor. He will assess what you need to learn, and you can set up your own schedule with him."

"Yes, Your Majesty," I said, bowing my head in deferential gratitude.

The Queen began again to protest, but King Tarken cut her off. "I appreciate your feelings, Kasha, but I think it would be best if you excused yourself until you have regained your composure. My decision is made, and it is final. Now, I am going to my workroom. I do not wish to be disturbed by any reports of spats or shouting, so everyone here had best learn to accept my decision and coexist well with each other."

Queen Kasha fixed me with a glare, and I regretted that the King had chastised her in front of me. I knew very well that she had no intention of accepting me in the immediate future. The King watched her leave, and for the first time I saw a flicker of emotion cross his face; it was a fatigued frustration. He took his leave shortly thereafter.

I sighed, letting the anger and worry roll away from my body. I felt relieved that the wedding would go ahead, but the fight left me too exhausted to properly enjoy the good news.

"I believe Leiset brought your belongings when we left the Temple earlier," Jarik said quietly. "I shall find her and confirm that, then have her help me prepare your room. That will give both of you some quiet time alone here together. I think you both need that."

I managed to smile at Jarik for his kind understanding as Kurit said, "Thank you."

Jarik left, closing the door behind him softly.

Kurit looked as tired as I felt. He reached out to me and whispered, "Come, I haven't held you in days." I fell into his warm embrace; it was paradise after the storm that had passed.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that for me," I whispered.

He said nothing, just kissed my forehead and held me tight. After some time he stood back from me, holding my hands.

"There is no battle I would not fight for you," he said earnestly. "This was awful, I admit, but I really wish for you to understand and believe that it pales in comparison to the misery I felt when you were gone. I have not suffered loss often in my life—I have told you that before. Not knowing where you were, if you were safe..." He closed his eyes wearily and sighed. "That was true torture, even more so than not being able to hold and kiss you. What happened here was unpleasant but tolerable."

He pulled me back to him and kissed me softly, both of us lacking the energy for passion and seeking only comfort instead.

"The battle is over now, though. Mother will come around. She has little other choice." He smiled, eyes drooping but still alight with affection. "We will be wed. We've won, Aenna. Our prize is a glorious future, shared together. There could be no greater joy."

### Chapter 8

THE FOLLOWING DAYS were so busy with changes, plans, and decisions to be made that I hardly had a moment to spare a thought for the Queen's ire. I met with Kordos, a grim little man with the hard-edged accent of someone from the southeast. He evaluated my initial knowledge and grunted about the amount of work that would be necessary. He devised a rigorous schedule for my education, and we began immediately.

When I was not in lessons, I was being fitted for clothes. The tailor was an odd fellow who made incomprehensible jokes that amused him and no one else. Still, his work was brilliant, and I was continually delighted with the fare Leiset brought me to try on.

Delighted, that is, until the day she brought me the corset. I resisted, but she said it was what all the proper ladies wore. I told her that Kurit had told me he despised the things, and she replied that men had no sense of fashion.

I acquiesced to allow her at least to put the wretched thing on me. "What sort of ridiculous fashion dictates such discomfort?" I asked as she pulled the laces excruciatingly tight.

"It started a generation ago, at the end of the war with Wusul. Mei-Enkos, the Wusul Queen, or whatever they call them up there, she gave one to Lady Senseh of Asune. Lady Senseh was considered to be very beautiful, and when she wore it to events, other women decided they wanted them too. Now it's considered rather barbaric to not wear one," Leiset explained.

"How foolish. Every child in Keshaerlan knows it is the Wusul who are barbarians. Wretched slavers, they are," I grumbled, wincing as she continued to lace the thing upwards.

"Well, the rest of the ladies don't bother to think about it."

"I'm noticing that the rest of the ladies don't bother to think at all," I retorted. Indeed, in my brief experiences with those who were to be my peers, I had noticed a proclivity for lazy talk of fashion and art with no intention to even consider social, economic, or political matters. In fact, it seemed a rude thing amongst their numbers to discuss anything of intellectual merit.

"Proper ladies let their husbands think for them," muttered Leiset. "Which is why I am happy to never be wed."

"Hmph," I muttered in kind. "Kurit better not except such mindlessness from me. I couldn't bear it."

"Aenna," said Leiset as she finished encasing my poor body in the tomb-like device, "I suspect that the entire reason he pursued you so fervently was because he couldn't bear the thought either. As long as I've lived in this palace—which is a good long time—it has been obvious to myself and many others that the Prince greatly disdains most of what makes a 'proper' lady. He is a scoundrel, and I know it borders on treason to say so, but I know also that you are aware of it. He's a harmless scoundrel, but a scoundrel nonetheless. He likes his wine, he likes to dance and be joyous, and he jests about everything. I imagine he fell in love with you because you are a living, thinking, active woman, and all he's ever known are bland, tea-sipping aristocrats. Now, how does the corset feel?"

"Hideous," I complained. "It pinches my back, and the bones are poking me. It's hard to breathe. If I ate so much as a spoonful of anything, I would surely be sick, my stomach is so cramped. I feel encased in stone, and my breasts ache. They feel like they're being squeezed so that they'll pop out of my back."

Leiset started to laugh at the image, but I was in too much discomfort to be merry. "It's not funny. It's despicable." I sighed, as much as one could breathe enough to sigh whilst wearing a corset. "Help me get one of the dresses on. I'll go find Kurit and see if he even notices the difference. If he doesn't, I'm not wearing it. How can I possibly concentrate on my lessons if I'm too busy being uncomfortable?"

She helped me into a dress and laced it up in back snugly to fit my cramped waist. I grumbled again, and we went to find Kurit.

We found him in one of the parlours, deep in conversation with his father, Jarik, and another man I thought I remembered to be Lord Mishkel of Felean. With pleasantries aside, I asked if I could speak privately with Kurit for a moment. He rose and bade Leiset and me to join him in the other adjoining parlour.

Closing the door behind himself, he quickly asked, "What is it? What's wrong? Aenna, are you ill?"

"No," I said.

"Then why do you look so unwell? Did you injure yourself?" He embraced me in concern and immediately discerned the problem. "Oh," he sighed. "They've got you in one of those traps, have they?"

"A corset is appropriate dress for a lady, Your Highness," Leiset said.

"It's appropriate dress for someone with no sense," he said snidely. He looked me over and said, "Nothing could diminish your beauty, my love, but wearing that thing...truly, you look as though there's something wrong with you."

"Because there is. It feels awful," I confessed.

"Then don't wear it."

I rolled my eyes. "Kurit, I don't want to. But I don't want to stir trouble either."

"You mean you don't want to add another apparent fault for my mother to pounce upon."

I didn't answer but gave him a clear look of agreement.

"Aenna, really, I don't mean to insult you at all, but I hate it. You look like an unhappy, pinched sausage."

The absurd image made us all laugh, though I could barely do so since my chest could not expand properly. "I shall not wear it again," I said. "I don't care who disapproves, as long as you don't think I look fat and slovenly."

"Of course not, Aenna," he said, smiling handsomely. "I sincerely hope your beauty without the wretched thing begins a new trend to cast them aside." He kissed my hand in a gentlemanly fashion under Leiset's scrutinizing eye, and we left him.

Upon returning to my chambers, I had Leiset remove the awful thing as fast as she could. Then I took a pleasantly full breath and asked her to discard it far from my sight. "I never want to see it again," I said happily.

* * *

During one of my rare times of leisure, Jarik, Kurit, and I sat in the parlour and discussed what plans were being made for the wedding day. The ceremony would take place in the morning, and of course in the afternoon there would be the tournament, which Jarik clearly intended to win. In fact, he promised me that he would, certain that no one would best him and determined not to allow any other man usurp the duty he had more or less already decided was his.

"And after you've licked your wounds from the tournament—" Kurit began in jest, only to hop out of his chair and leap halfway across the room when Jarik reached to give him a whack for the remark. Kurit laughed behind me, and he must have made some sort of rude gesture because Jarik leapt out of his chair and locked his arm around Kurit's neck. He dragged Kurit pathetically back to their chairs, dumping the Prince into his seat.

Kurit rubbed his neck and said, "Mindless thug."

"Scrawny worm."

"Overgrown lout."

I laughed, and Kurit gave me a mock pout. "Both of you are such children!" I said with a smile.

"One of us grew up enough to not resort to violence," Kurit teased again, and Jarik's arm flashed out to pinch Kurit. Kurit tried to avoid the attack and ended up falling out of his chair rather hard.

Jarik's demeanour changed in an instant. He had been causing Kurit embarrassing little pains, but when his cousin fell, Jarik was instantly at his side to help him up. It was rather sweet, in a twisted, brotherly fashion.

"I'm fine," Kurit muttered. He didn't seem annoyed with Jarik half as much as he was embarrassed at being so clumsy. They both took their seats again.

"Careful with him," I said to Jarik. "I can't marry him if he's broken."

"I'm delighted that you have such faith in my strength and masculinity," Kurit mocked.

"Be glad she speaks for you, little upstart, for if she asks me to cease giving you the thrashings you so rightly earn, I shall cease indeed." Jarik looked as though he was trying not to smile as he added, "How fortunate of you to have a woman who can defend you."

Kurit rolled his eyes as though he was enduring endless suffering. "None of you respect me in the slightest," he whined, pretending to wipe a tear from his face.

Jarik looked ready to whack him again but looked at me instead. I shook my head and said, "Don't indulge him. If you cause him further injury he'll expect my pity."

Kurit's jaw dropped comically, and he mimed putting a blade through his heart. I could not help but laugh. He turned from me and tried to pout, but a smile at the silliness threatened to break through. I rose from my seat and went to him to kiss his cheek. The smile won, and he gave Jarik a look of triumph.

As I returned to my seat, Kurit said, "As I was saying, after the tournament, there will be dancing, of course."

"Dancing?" I said. I had seen some folk dancing as a child but had never partaken in it.

"Of course," said Kurit. "What's a party without dancing? The music and dancing will go late into the night. We'll be taken away by carriage before it ends, to go to the royal cottage. But don't fret, we'll have plenty of time to dance before we go."

"I don't know how," I blurted.

They looked at each other in surprise, and then Jarik said, "I suppose that makes sense. You wouldn't have been to many balls in your life, I suspect."

"None," I confirmed.

"Well, don't worry, Jarik can teach you," Kurit said. "If you want to teach her, that is," he said to Jarik.

Jarik rose and bowed elegantly. "Lady Aenna, it would be my honour."

"Good," said Kurit. "I could teach you, but..."

"But you lack grace," Jarik teased.

Kurit pretended to glare. "I was going to say it wouldn't be appropriate. Someone, probably Mother, would accuse us of being unseemly."

Jarik took his seat again and mocked, "Imagine that, Aenna! This rogue has finally learned the concept of appropriate behaviour. You must be a good influence."

I doubted that, knowing as I did that I secretly enjoyed it when Kurit spoke to me in beastly ways.

It was decided then that Jarik would give me dance lessons between my regimen of classes with Kordos. They both were curious as to my progress therein, and I said I felt I was doing better than Kordos would acknowledge.

"Good," said Jarik. "Don't let that ogre discourage you. He is a large part of the reason that I elected to take more lessons in weapons and defence than history and science."

"I like science," I said. "I always wondered why some things happen, and it's truly fascinating to learn what we know of the reasons for them. Yesterday I learned that the reason things look so strange if you look through a glass of water is because the light behaves differently once it hits the denser glass, then the water, then the glass again, on its way to your eye. It's so amazing! I had never thought of the fact that light was something that moved; it was just there. Now I know so much more about it, and I'm fascinated."

"Have you had to learn geography yet?" asked Kurit. "I hated that. All the talk of different places made me want to be there, not stare at their symbols on a map."

We spoke at length about what I had learned, and the two sweet, kind men complimented me many times on learning so much so quickly. It was a great deal of work to become reasonably educated, but the reward of feeling intelligent and informed was well worth the effort.

My first dance lesson with Jarik the next day held more trepidation than curiosity, though, since I had never known myself to be the least bit graceful. Thankfully we were alone in the ballroom, or I would have been deeply embarrassed.

He bowed and instructed me to curtsey, so I did. He then took my left hand in his right. "Now, this is important," he said. "A gentlemen will always take your hand like so," he said as he demonstrated. He held his hand rigid and scooped it up under my fingers, so that my fingers curled over his index finger towards his palm. His thumb encircled my fingers, as though he were forming a hole with his hand, and mine was hooked upon it.

"Some scurrilous fiends will attempt to do this," he said, taking my hand again, only this time hooking my fingers between his index and middle finger. "This is considered very unseemly, as the man can then move his finger across yours, caressing you in an inappropriate manner. Even that wretched husband-to-be of yours would not be so rude," he said in jest.

He went on to explain that there was a similar set of rules as to the appropriate way that the man would place his hand on the lady's waist, the distance for dancers to remain apart, and the various other possibilities for unseemly behaviour, usually on the part of the man.

"What is the joy in dancing at all if one must be so rigid and controlled?" I asked.

"I shall show you," he said, taking a hold of me in the proper manner. "Now, just step along with me—don't worry yet about how to move your feet." He led me in slow circles around the room, eyes locked to mine. Despite the fact that he was a man of great honour and the cousin of my betrothed, our intense eye contact made my heart flutter. I could not look away, and though his face betrayed no emotion, his stare was captivating. I'm not sure if he began to lead us faster, but the room certainly began to spin.

I felt myself blushing, and he stopped the dance.

"That, my dear Aenna, is the pleasure of a dance: to become locked in a gaze, and though every part of your body is in a specific place and behaving in an appropriate manner, the eyes are free to communicate great affection."

I covered my cheeks, ashamed that I had so easily been swept away by his gaze.

"Forgive me. I have embarrassed you," he said softly.

I shook my head. "No, it is good that you forewarned me. I can only imagine the embarrassment of becoming locked in such a gaze while dancing with..."

"The King?" he suggested.

"Goodness!" I exclaimed. "Can you imagine? Oh, I would curl up and die if such a thing happened!"

"That is why you must look around you often whilst dancing with anyone other than Kurit. There is many an uncouth wretch who, having an old and miserable wife, will seek to catch a pretty young girl in such a state. In fact, I shall warn you now that Lord Staesh, the wealthy sea merchant from Penklin, is the worst of the lot for that trick. It's unlikely that you will have enough dances to spare to grant him one, but be forewarned."

He took my hands away from my face gently and apologized again. "I hope that I have not made you uncomfortable."

I shook my head and smiled at him. "Jarik, I trust you. You, Leiset, and of course Kurit are my dearest friends. And with the beatings that you give Kurit for being a rascal, I know you to be good and honourable." I laughed. "I know you intended nothing rude." To prove that I trusted him, I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.

Oh, how that made him blush! Never had I witnessed a man to turn so red. He was so taken aback by my gesture that he could not speak clearly for some time.

I took my turn to apologize. "Now I have embarrassed you!"

He shook his head. "No. I... well, just that..." He took a deep breath and managed to compose himself enough to say, "It was a kind gift, good Lady. Thank you."

The air of awkwardness was too fresh still to continue, so we ended the lesson for that day.

Within a few weeks, he had taught me several dance steps, and though I know I lacked feminine grace, I managed to perform adequately. We did not again become locked in a gaze, nor did I kiss his cheek, and thus we were able to spend the time together merrily and without blushing. We were even able to talk of many things without accidental embarrassment—which he seemed more prone to than I, for some reason—and I felt that he was not only my friend but a kind and reliable confidant.

He challenged me on some of the more difficult steps to go faster and faster. One afternoon we spun quickly around the ballroom, our feet moving so fast that I could not even keep track of where they were. I caught sight of our reflection in the mirrors on the wall, and we looked marvellous! My dress fluttered out behind me beautifully, and he was so tall and elegant as he led me around the room.

I became distracted at the sight of us in the mirror, and my feet crossed when they should not. Our speed made me stumble badly enough to send me flying out of his hold to land hard on my backside, sprawled on the floor.

Before I had even realized what had happened, he was at my side, his expression distraught. I looked down and saw my skirts scattered about my legs, rumpled and unladylike. Then I looked again at Jarik, who was wide-eyed with great concern. It was all so ridiculously clumsy and inelegant that I burst into laughter. I laughed so that tears rolled down my cheeks and my sides ached. Poor Jarik—he didn't know if I was hurt so badly that I had dashed my mind, or if I was indeed merry.

I managed to curtail the laughter enough to touch his sweetly concerned face. "Don't fret," I said. "I'm unhurt. It's just really, really funny to be so elegant one moment and here sprawled on the floor like a derelict the next."

He didn't laugh with me, and his serious expression made me stop laughing myself. He helped me graciously to my feet and gently dusted off my hands.

"Jarik, really, I'm fine," I said, but he was unconvinced.

With a voice full of guilt he said, "I should not have spun you about so quickly. I was to teach you to dance, not whip you about like a rag doll."

"What can I say to console you?" I asked. "Jarik, I'm fine. Really, I laughed because it was amusing! Please don't be so hard on yourself. You can't forever protect me from every bump and spill," I said, trying to soothe him.

"You should never suffer so much as a bruise or scrape," he insisted. "And especially not at my hand."

His insistent guilt was becoming tiresome. I put my hands on my hips and said, "Jarik, that's well and good for those other ladies, but you know very well I am not going to sit in a soft chair and grow wan and weak. I'd gladly suffer bruises if it meant I was able to be alive and active. Now stop pouting, or you shall make me sad with you."

He looked at me sheepishly, which was a strange sight for such a warrior. "You're right. Very well, I will try not to worry so much. But only if you promise to always be careful. I should die if something bad happened to you that I could have prevented, or worse, was the cause of."

"Jarik, don't be silly," I said, touching his arm tenderly. "You would never be the cause of anything unpleasant. And between your fretting over my every clumsy bump and spill, Kurit's continued fear that I will up and disappear, and Leiset's dedicated guard over my virtue and reputation, I am the most well-protected woman in the kingdom! Come now, that's enough dancing for today. Would you be so kind as to escort me to my chambers, that I might clean myself up before dinner?"

He seemed to finally be more relaxed and took me graciously to my room.

Just before dinner, Kurit came to my chambers as Leiset and I sat in the receiving chamber talking.

"I came to make sure you are unhurt," he said with concern.

"I'm fine, of course," I said.

He nodded and smiled, taking the seat across from my own. "Jarik's brooding in his chambers. I pestered him as to why until he told me you had fallen rather hard during his dance lesson, at which point I came straight to see you."

"Oh, by the very Temple," I muttered, sighing. "I told him I was fine. I laughed when I fell! I told him not to worry so."

"He won't ever listen to that, Aenna. He has it in his head that he's responsible for your well-being, an attitude that I find as frustrating as you apparently do. It is as if he thinks I am not man enough to keep you safe myself."

"Oh, Kurit, I don't think he means anything of the sort. No one questions your masculinity, and for all that he teases you about your size, you're neither small nor weak. He's the tallest man in this city, I'm sure, and his bulk is also beyond the norm. You are perfectly handsome and strong, Kurit, and shouldn't feel overshadowed by your cousin."

I had not realized how sensitive he was about the difference between himself and Jarik until a look of delight at my words crept onto his face. "Surely you don't imagine that I ever thought you less of a man than Jarik?" I asked. His awkward shrug betrayed that he had.

My day was certainly turning into a great one for having to feed the fragile egos of these men. It was ridiculous how quickly they thought ill of themselves. Of course, I suppose I had been guilty of the same in the many discussions of the past where they had reassured me of my worth. But that was somehow different.

"Leiset, I know you're going to tell me it's unseemly, but could I have just a short moment alone with Kurit?" I asked.

She looked at Kurit suspiciously but was kind enough to agree. "I shall go to Lord Jarik's room and ask him to join you on your way to dinner. But I will be back very soon," she warned.

When she had left I stood and took Kurit's hand. He rose beside me, and I embraced him. "Don't ever imagine that I think you unmanly," I said.

He smiled again. "You're very good to me," he said and then kissed me gently. "Too good to me, for all that I'm a beast to you when we're alone."

"Behave," I scolded softly.

He ignored my directive and kissed me again, this time with a fervent longing. When he finished, he whispered, "I cannot help myself. You tell me that I am your strong man. You make me feel powerful, and my desire grows with it." We kissed again, lustfully. He broke the kiss off in time that we would not be caught, but before releasing me the rogue whispered into my ear: "On our wedding night, I shall make love with you until you cannot help but cry out in delight."

Thus, I was of course blushing when Leiset arrived with Jarik in tow. She directed a reproachful look at Kurit, who, naturally, feigned innocence. To avoid an altercation of any sort, in jest or not, I took the hands of both Jarik and Kurit and asked them politely to take me down to dinner.

* * *

The remaining weeks leading up to the wedding went smoothly as everyone was too busy for silly worries or inappropriate behaviour. Then, five days before the wedding, Kurit came to my room in a state of near panic early in the morning. I had only just finished dressing, and my hair was still in its night braid when he asked Leiset to leave us alone.

She refused at first, having ample reason to be suspicious of his motives. After all, he had used every moment alone to steal a kiss in the past months—whilst walking in the garden, in dark halls at night, in my chambers, and even once between the shelves in the library as I tried to study for one of Kordos's unfairly difficult tests.

But he was insistent and clearly too upset to be seeking my company for illicit purposes, so she relented and left us alone. He bade me to sit and did so himself as well, though on the edge of the chair in an obvious state of great anxiety.

"What is it?" I asked in alarm.

"There is something that I must tell you, Aenna. Something happened last night, and it is very unpleasant, but you must believe that I am telling you the full and honest truth and I would never betray you in any way."

"Of course I would believe whatever you told me, Kurit. What has happened that you are so upset?"

He looked at the floor in obvious shame, his hands knotted together in agitation. "I would have come to tell you last night, but it was so late, and I didn't want to upset you."

"Well, I'll be upset now if you don't tell me what is so terribly wrong!"

He untangled his hands and raised them as fists to his face. He looked angry and frustrated, and I suspected his mother had done something to disturb the wedding plans. She had not spoken so much as a word to me, but whenever we were in the same room—such as every evening at dinner—she glared at me with unabashed vehemence.

Angrily, Kurit blurted, "That vile fiend Sashken tried to seduce me last night. She came into my room as I slept, which I assure you I have given the guards a stern lecture for allowing! I woke to find her in my bed, naked, with her hand on my..." He paused in embarrassment, which was disturbingly uncharacteristic of him.

"She didn't!" I exclaimed, not in doubt of his words but in outrage at the very thought. I had learned over time that Sashken had been unofficially chosen by Queen Kasha to be Kurit's bride. I had spoken with her myself only once and found her to be cold and unpleasant, most certainly not someone Kurit could ever love.

"She did. Of course I woke with a start, and seeing that pointy face of hers looking down at me, I almost fell out of the bed. But she kept a hold of my, well, my sensitive area, which..." He sighed in exasperation. "Aenna, I swear to you, she must have been touching me as I slept, because it was... in her hand it had become...and when I tried to roll away she gripped it, and of course I could not move without tearing it off!" He rose from his chair in frustration. "I blurted out something to the effect of 'Get away from me,' but she refused. She said that she was ripe for childbearing, and she intended to have me father one inside her that night so I would be forced to forget about you and marry her instead."

I was speechless in outrage. My jaw had dropped, and my fists sat clenched at my sides. That pathetic slut! my mind screamed.

He saw my anger and nodded. "I know how you must feel. Believe me, Aenna, I don't wish to upset you, but I had to tell you. I grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she cried out and let go of me. Then I got out of bed and dragged her out to my receiving chamber. I ordered her out of my sight. I was embarrassed, shocked, enraged! I shamefully admit that I wanted to strike her for her insolence, but thankfully I had the presence of mind to restrain myself.

"She stood facing me, naked as the day she was born, a hideous sight, I swear. Honestly, Aenna, her nude form disgusted me, both in its impropriety and in her almost emaciated form. Ribs poking out over a waist misshapen from growing up in an over-tightened corset..." He shook his head in revulsion. "Forgive me—I should be sparing you such details, but I need you to understand that in no way was I the least bit tempted by her."

I took a deep breath to calm my anger, because I didn't want him to misinterpret it as being directed towards him. "I would not suspect you, Kurit. I doubt I would suspect you of being disloyal with anyone, but certainly I would never suspect it with Sashken. By the Temple, Kurit, I've seen your loathing of her. Everyone has, except obviously Sashken and your mother."

"Oh, don't even let me start on that issue, Aenna," he said emphatically. "Sashken is conniving and manipulative, but she is not smart enough to come up with such a wretched plan on her own. I fully see Mother's hand in this, and..." He bit his tongue and was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low and threatening. "Mother had better not come near me for at least a day, if not a week. You must understand, the reason that I hurried in here this morning to tell you all this is because I was afraid of what would result from Sashken's next ploy, which I could tell by her rehearsed words came straight from Mother's coaching."

He sat beside me and took my hands between his, pressing them to his lips but not actually kissing them. He moved them to his forehead, closed his eyes—in anger or worry I could not tell—and said, "She told me that if I refused her, she would tell 'the little field mouse'—Mother's favourite term of insult for you—that I had gladly taken her. She threatened to convince you that I had always loved her and had pleasured her regularly, even since our engagement. I had to come and tell you of her threat before she could get to you. I had to make you understand that I would never do such a thing. Aenna, I swear—"

I moved my hand out of his and placed a silencing finger on his lips to stop his apologetic babbling. When he looked up at me I said, "I believe you, Kurit. And I wouldn't have believed her if she had arrived before you. You need not convince me of your loyalty and honour."

He sighed with great relief and hurriedly embraced me. I held him tight, wanting him to know that I had not the least bit of suspicion in my heart.

"Thank you," he said, his voice pained. "Thank you so much, Aenna. I didn't want to imagine that you would suspect me, but I feared she would play on your insecurities and that you might be convinced."

I chuckled as he sat back on the couch. "I am amazed that she would think such a ploy would work. How could she possibly think that you would acquiesce to her? What a vile tramp!"

He sat forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands. He sighed heavily, shaking his head slowly. "I just...I just don't need this ridiculous nonsense." He rose from the couch in anger. He paced for a moment and then stopped, let out a growl, and kicked one of the chairs over, making a loud racket.

Leiset came running in from the hall as he continued to kick the chair. She stared at him in fright. I rose from the couch, also startled by his anger.

He stopped beating on the chair and stood staring at it, as if he had imagined administering the kicks to Sashken herself. He looked at Leiset, who stood pale by the door with one of the guards from the corridor at her side.

"Sorry," he muttered and picked up the chair. Then he noticed my startled expression and apologized again. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I just..." He sighed loudly and rubbed his head with both hands.

I went to him, and he embraced me, cradling me protectively against him. "Sorry," he said again, kissing the top of my head.

"I understand, Kurit—it's fine. I understand how angry you are. I am too," I said, hoping to ease his frustration and guilt. I looked over his shoulder to Leiset and the guard and said, "Everything is fine here. Please, just leave us alone for a moment."

We talked for some time, and eventually he calmed down. But a depressed frustration remained in him, even after we took breakfast together and walked in the garden.

He remained sullen and upset until the night before the wedding, when finally his mood broke. He came to me before bed to apologize for his dark frame of mind as of late but assured me it had lifted as he realized we would finally be wed the next day.

"I'm certain this madness with my mother will end tomorrow," he said. "Once our love becomes official and she cannot stop it, I'm certain she'll finally give up this absurd battle."

### Chapter 9

I WOKE VERY EARLY on my wedding day, too excited to turn over and go back to sleep. I quietly peeked out of my bedchamber into my receiving room, but Leiset was not there. I didn't know if she was still sleeping herself or if she had gone off on an errand.

I closed the bedroom door and fetched my dressing gown. Knotting the gown's cord about my waist, I opened the glass doors to my small balcony and stepped out into the dewy summer air.

It was very quiet; the only sounds were morning birds chirping in the garden. I leaned my elbows on the cold, dew-damp stone edge of the balcony and put my chin in my hands. I stood like that for some time, smiling like a fool and staring idly into the air.

A guard on sentry duty walked along the wall on the opposite side of the garden. Noticing me there, he paused and bowed. I gave him a polite wave, glad to know that he was being observant even at this early hour. He bowed again and continued his march.

"Ah, that's who he was bowing to," said a voice to the west, startling me. "You're up early." It was Kurit, leaning out of his own balcony door.

"Oh, you startled me!" I said, catching my breath.

"Sorry. I've been standing here by the open door for some time. I didn't hear you come out, and I couldn't see you from inside. Then I saw the guard bow, and I thought, He can't possibly see me in the shadows! So I took a step out, and there you are." His hair was tousled from sleep, and he smiled a tired smile at me.

"You're not supposed to see me today until you remove my veil," I said. "It's a bad omen, you know."

He shrugged. "The day's hardly begun. I think the Gods will forgive an inadvertent meeting. It's not like I'm over there with you."

I laughed. "Out of tradition or because Leiset and Gilrin are still entrusted with the keys to the door between our bedchambers?" All of the bedchambers along this portion of the south wing were linked by doors, so husbands and wives in adjoining rooms could visit each other discreetly in the night. It was standard practice for the maidservant or manservant of an unwed occupant of these rooms to keep the keys to the doors. Leiset would also be charged to keep safe the key from my room to the unoccupied one to the east.

Kurit threw his hands in the air in jest. "Even today you accuse me of beastly behaviour!" He smiled and dropped his hands to put them on his hips. "Go then, go inside before we wake up everyone else. I shall see you in a few hours."

I smiled and took his advice, but just as I was about to close the door behind me I heard him call my name softly. I poked my head back outside to see him leaning over his balcony's ledge towards my own.

He saw me and said, "Everything is going to turn out perfectly today. Don't fret about anything. Just enjoy the day. I love you."

I smiled and went back inside, preventing myself from attempting to say something sentimental in return that would no doubt sound trite, as though I were choking on flowers. As I closed the door I heard a soft tapping from the receiving room, and I said, "Come, I am awake."

Leiset entered with a garment bag in her careful arms. I straightened the blankets of my bed out sufficiently that she could set it down.

"I was going to hang it out in the other room, but I heard voices in here," she said questioningly.

"Oh, I went to the balcony, and Kurit was on his."

"Aenna!" she exclaimed in dismay. "You're not supposed to see him!"

"It was an accident!" I said and quickly explained what had happened.

Leiset, being both religious and superstitious, said a quick prayer for us. Then she unlaced the garment bag so I could see what miracle the tailor had wrought for my wedding day.

I stood dumbfounded, staring at it. The gown was more beautiful than any I had ever imagined. It was a deep green—the traditional colour for weddings, of course, because of its fertile implications—and I knew instantly my hair would look wonderful against it. Because it was a summer wedding, it had no sleeves, but the dear tailor had widened the shoulder straps to cover my wretched scar. The gown had neither laces nor buttons—it would have to be pulled on carefully over my head and removed the same way.

The waist would fit snugly, and the low neckline would likely reveal a hint of the tops of my breasts. Knowing I did not wear a corset, the tailor had tapered the bodice to a point in front and in back, letting the wide fabric of the skirt billow out naturally where my hips would be. I knew this would make me appear to have slender frame whilst still maintaining the curves that Kurit seemed to so appreciate.

The skirt was the same deep green but a lighter material that was gathered in many, many layers. As I picked up the edge to examine the exquisite green and gold beadwork near the bottom, I saw that shadows played in between the gauzy layers, making the skirt shimmer in the way that trees seem to when looked on from a far height.

"Isn't it perfect?" Leiset sighed, putting her hands gently around my arm.

I leaned the side of my head against hers, and we stood staring at it happily. "I could not dreamed of better," I whispered, as though speaking too loudly might awaken me.

After some time, Leiset finally said, "Well, enough of this. I'll have water brought in for your bath, after which we must set your hair in the rods for the ringlets. And I have to send Melly to the Temple to pick up your veil, because they did not have it ready when I sent for it last night. The clip for it is there on your dressing table, but don't worry about that now." She started busying herself immediately.

"Melly? Isn't she a bit..."

"Slow-headed? Yes. But she follows instructions very well, and I trust her more than most of the other undermaids to fetch it promptly. The others would dally about, glad to be away from their palace chores, which no doubt have been doubled in preparations. Now, I'll go order the hot water brought up. You relax and keep your head on straight. It's going to be a busy day."

Indeed it was, but Leiset was a marvel, caring for every detail before I could raise a hand in effort. She insisted that I be relaxed, lest any insecurities creep into my mind and threaten to ruin the day.

Then, in the space of a moment, all of her efforts to keep me calm and happy were cast aside, for as I sat with rods in my hair in only my dressing gown, staring dreamily into the mirror, Queen Kasha entered my bed chamber with a look of cold cruelty on her face.

"You're so smug there, that hideously red mop of yours gathered ridiculously in rods, as if that would help you to hide how lowly you are," she snarled. Leiset turned pale in stunned anger but knew her place well enough not to dare speak. I wish that I had been as wise.

"Your Majesty, it is too late to send me away. I regret that you hate me so. Truly, I wish that you could find it in your heart to accept me enough for the sake of Kurit's happiness," I said calmly, confidently. "It saddens me that you insist upon this battle, when I hold no malice for you. I understand that you wish to protect your son. So do I. I love him. I am not a threat!"

Her cold gaze remained on me for a moment and then moved to the gown on the bed. The hateful woman went to it, and before Leiset or I could stop her, she picked up a corner of one of the underskirts and tore it about a finger's length. I stood in alarm, but she dropped the material back to the bed without causing further damage.

Turning her frigid stare back to me she said in a hard voice, "You may wear this fine gown today. Everyone will see how perfectly lovely it is. But you will know there is a tear, and let that remind you of your true status: a peasant in torn rags! You are and always will be unworthy of my Kurit." Then she stormed from the room as I stood stunned, unable to speak or move.

"Contemptible, malevolent old bat!" muttered Leiset under her breath, and I was certainly not going to chastise her for the treasonous insult. I was furious and mortified that Kasha—ceasing in my mind at that moment to be worthy of my respect in calling her Queen—could be so vehemently cruel.

Leiset went to the gown and ruffled the skirts over the tear. "Aenna, don't worry—no one will see it," she insisted. "Shall I run and have the tailor come to stitch it anyway?"

I shook my head sadly. The point was made. Kasha was right. Whether it was sewn or not, visible or not, I would know that the dress had been ruined. I would be aware of that small tear, hidden under the rest of the skirts, and I would not be able to forget her words and enjoy my wedding day free of their influence.

"Leave it," I sighed. "Even if it is fixed, I'll know that it was there. Her aim was on the mark with that." I sat back at the dressing table and stared unhappily into the mirror.

"No," Leiset said. "You must not let her cruelty ruin your day. Oh, Aenna, don't let her win." She stood behind me and put her arms around my shoulders in comfort. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw to prevent myself from weeping. I refused to be seen with a puffy, red face of tears. I was not going to give that awful woman the satisfaction.

"What should I do?" Leiset asked in concern.

I sighed and gathered my spirit back together as best I could. "We shall go on. There is no time to play these silly games. Help me into the dress, please, and then we'll finish with my hair and be ready to go." Leiset gave me a friendly squeeze and kissed my cheek, and we continued the preparations.

Just as we were about to go down to the courtyard to the coach that waited to take me out to the meadows east of the city where the wedding and tournament were to take place, there came a knock at my outer door. Leiset and I looked at each other in alarm, both fearful that Kasha had returned to cause further mischief.

Leiset tentatively opened the door to the corridor, and there stood King Tarken. I sighed with relief and smiled at him as he entered. He came to me smiling as well and took my hands gently in his own.

"Look at you, my dear, just look at you," he said with delight. "You are a vision of loveliness. Your beauty this day shall banish any last ounce of a steady mind left in my poor son's head."

I laughed softly at his kind words. "Thank you, Your Majesty. It means a great deal to me that you would come to say such pleasant things."

"I thought you might need to hear kind words. Jarik came to me in great concern a short time ago, saying he saw my wife leaving your room in a hurry."

I looked away from him. I might have been angry at Kasha, but I did not wish to belittle the Queen before the King.

"Ah. She did say something to upset you, didn't she?" He shook his head sadly and sighed. "I pleaded with her to leave you alone, but her wrath knows no restraint. Tell me, good Aenna, was she cruel to you? She was once a kind woman, but over the years I have seen her grow spiteful and angry, though I know not why. Tell me what she said, that I might reassure you that she spoke a lie."

"It was not what she said, Majesty, half as much as what she did." I sat on the couch and lifted the part of the skirt I knew to hold the tear and showed it to him. "It is a small tear. No one will see it. She did so intentionally, and said that she wanted me to remember by it that I am but an unworthy peasant in rags."

He knelt by me to examine the tear, shaking his head sadly again. "Why didn't you have it fixed?"

"It wouldn't have mattered," I replied.

He nodded in understanding and let the material fall from his hand. He rose and bade me to rise as well, taking my hand and patting it comfortingly. "Aenna, don't let it bother you. This otherwise perfect dress has a small flaw. We all try to be perfect ourselves, but each of us has a flaw as well. Nothing is ever perfect. That does not mean it cannot be wonderful or beautiful. Don't think of that tear as a symbol of your past poverty. Think of it as a symbol of how you have been given a chance to approach perfection in your life. Do not let it sadden you—make it strengthen you." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek tenderly. "I believe in you, Aenna of Alesha. You have more than amply proven yourself worthy in my eyes. Now come, do me the honour, please, of letting me escort you to your coach. My son awaits you."

I cast aside all thoughts of decorum and threw my arms around the dear man. He seemed taken aback for a moment and then embraced me in return. "There now, don't you dare weep, either in sadness or joy. I don't wish to be responsible for tears!"

I laughed softly and kissed his cheek. Then I let him take my arm, and we went down to the waiting coach with Leiset, who carried my carefully folded veil and its clip in her arms.

* * *

The meadows outside the city reached far into the distance, seeming to bump right up against the mountains that could be seen on the north-eastern horizon. I was taken to the area where the wedding itself would occur shortly. All the guests and servants had been kept away for well over an hour to allow me to take my place.

A spot had been chosen where a low hill formed a natural stage, and a great many wooden benches and chairs had been set up facing it. Leiset helped me unfold the veil, which was more or less an enormous black cloth. When a priestess signalled us that the time was appropriate, we placed the cloth over my head so it covered my entire form from the front and most from the back. The sides of the veil were clipped together at the back of my neck. I could see through the cloth to some extent, but no one would be able to see me at all. I would be just a dark, unfathomable figure. The purpose of this of course was not to hide me in shame, but to prevent Kurit from being able to see me when he performed the part of the ceremony in which he would ask for my acceptance.

This and other parts of the ceremony were traditional remembrances of the marriage of Prince Kol of Kyran to Princess Raeneh of Mael. I had learned in my history lessons that Kyran was an ancient kingdom that now was the provinces of Estebek, Odlok, Kresh, Kydren, and a small portion of what is now Penklin. The Kingdom of Mael had been what was now the provinces of Felean, Alesha, and Taeten. The two nations had warred through the generations, until the time of Kol and Raeneh. Raeneh lost all her beloved brothers to the war, and being very wise, she decided to take it upon herself to end it. She wrote a secret letter to Prince Kol, whom she had never met, to ask him to convince his father, King Dirik, to end the bloodshed. She filled the letter with heartfelt stories of her good brothers and appealed to Kol's decency to have the war ended before her own future sons suffered the same tragic fate.

Kol was deeply moved by the letter but was unable to convince his father to end the war. He wrote a secret letter in return to Raeneh, explaining that his father was too entrenched in the generations of hatred between to the two nations, but that he had no such hatred and also wished to see the war end. This led to a continuing, hidden correspondence that eventually found the two deeply in love, though they had never met face to face.

When King Dirik was slain in a battle, Kol proclaimed that the war had gone on long enough. He mounted his horse, summoned his guards, and rode to the palace of King Daen, Raeneh's father. There, he asked for the hand of Raeneh in marriage to unite their kingdoms into one. King Daen would not hear of it, thinking it was a ploy to assassinate his only remaining child. He had Raeneh locked away in one of the castle's towers and told Kol to leave.

But Kol did not leave. He stood at the base of the tower and called up to Raeneh, professing his love and his desire to unite their kingdoms in peace. She heard his call and answered that she would wed him, both for her own love and for the good of all.

Still, King Daen would not hear of it, and he threatened to kill Kol. When Kol refused to leave Maellen soil, Daen drew his sword against him, and a battle ensued. Kol defeated Daen, knocking the older man's sword from his hand. But Kol spared Daen and said he wished no more bloodshed, least of all the beloved father of his sweet Raeneh. Thus, Daen came to believe that Kol's proposal of unity was sincere, and at the behest of Raeneh from the tower above, Daen agreed to the marriage. Kol raced up the tower steps to behold for the first time the woman he loved, not knowing if she was beautiful or hideous and not caring, for his love was independent of appearance. When he saw her, plain but pretty with her auburn hair and deep blue eyes, he fell even deeper in love and carried her down the steps and off into history.

And so was born the united kingdom of Keshaerlan, and the capital established at the old border and site of the last battle.

The great tale of Kol and Raeneh was celebrated in every royal marriage thereafter. In earlier times, the bride would remain in the tower until fetched by the groom after a mock battle with the girl's father, but through the generations the ceremony had become more metaphorical in nature, beginning now with the bride hidden from view atop a stage or hill.

Thus, there I stood, draped in cloth, thankful for the shade of a great tree, as guests were seated. I saw many recognizable faces, including Jarik, who sat in the front row near King Tarken and Kasha. Jarik's expression was far from merry, and I wondered if he was worried for me, for perhaps he knew that Kasha had been in my room. I hoped that the King would tell him that I was in better spirits now, but I did not see them speak.

In the background there had gathered a great crowd of the general public, come to see the ceremony. I could not see them clearly, but I was glad to know no one was excluded from what really was a public event. After all, Kurit would be their King, and I supposed they had a right to see him wed the woman who would one day be their Queen.

The priests and priestesses managing the ceremony indicated it was to begin, and an eerie hush fell. I became nervous, hoping I would not forget what I was supposed to do or say, short though the actual ceremony was.

Then I saw Kurit, standing at the back of those seated. He boldly strode down the centre aisle and stopped at the base of the low hill, where there were two posts in the ground with a wide ribbon tied between them. He looked magnificent in his polished armour and green cloak—the same green as my dress. I smiled behind my veil as he knelt with great flourish. Always the performer, my dear Kurit.

"Lady Aenna of Alesha," he began, "you have won my heart with your bravery. You have captured my soul with your wisdom. I come to you this day before all who gather here as witness to proclaim my love for you and pledge to you my devotion to love you eternally. For the good of my heart and soul, and the good of the nation of Keshaerlan, which I shall one day serve as King, I offer to you my hand in marriage. Will you accept me?"

A low murmur of approval for his speech passed through the crowd.

From behind my veil, heart racing in nervous delight, I said, "Prince Kurit of Keshaerlan, I did not know what love was until I knew it for you. You have brought great happiness and opportunity to my life. Before all who can hear me, I pledge to love you as a devoted wife and shall strive to serve as a good and noble Queen. I do accept you." I breathed a sigh of relief that my tongue did not twist itself during my vow.

Kurit rose and drew his sword. As a symbolic version of the fight between Kol and Daen, he cut the ribbon that hung between the posts. There were those who said the cutting of the ribbon also symbolized the cessation of the bride's maidenhood, but I tried not to think of that, lest I be blushing ridiculously when he removed the veil.

He sheathed his sword and took the few steps up the hill to where I stood. He stood before me and reached around behind my head to unclasp the clip that held the veil. It took him a moment, because he wasn't paying full attention to it, as he was too busy diverting himself by giving me a roguish little wink and smile, knowing full well that I could see him through the cloth.

When finally the veil was unclasped and dropped, he took my hands and led me to step over it and then stood to the side to allow the gathering to look upon my dress. I heard the soft rush of excitement as they approved of my appearance, and I could not help but smile at him.

"You're beautiful," he said softly as he took my arm formally to lead me to Abbott Jhin, who was to perform the religious portion of the wedding.

I admit that I heard little of what the Abbott said. I was lost in Kurit's gaze as we faced each other, my hands in his. In fact, I became so lost in his eyes that I almost missed it when the Abbott's reading had ended. Kurit gave my hand a little squeeze and looked to Jhin as he was to proclaim us wed.

"And so, under the eyes of the Gods," continued the highest priest in Endren, "Prince Kurit of Keshaerlan and Lady Aenna of Alesha agree to these laws of sanctity and goodness, and in their marriage they shall continue the lineage of Kol and Raeneh in justice and honour. Now, for the first time as a married pair, I implore you, Prince Kurit and Princess Aenna, to embrace and kiss, that you might demonstrate your unwavering love to those gathered here."

Kurit turned back to me and smiled. I stepped towards him, and he slipped his arms around my waist. I clasped my hands behind his neck as he lowered his head to mine and kissed me.

A great cheer erupted from those gathered as we kissed, and I expected it to prompt Kurit to stop, but the rascal did not. The kiss lasted a good long time, and he leaned me back so that I almost lay in his arms when finally it ended. Breathless, I looked at him in wonder and delight as he whispered, "Now our happy future begins." He lifted me back upright and held me tightly as we were surrounded by the gathering.

We stood in their midst, beaming smiles on our faces, his arm snugly around my shoulders, mine around his waist. Congratulations and good wishes were given by most of those I had known, with the obvious exceptions of Kasha, Sashken, and their small group of friends. They stood off to one side, dark and brooding, and I didn't care. I felt the thrill of triumph and cared not for those who had lost.

Jarik came to my side and smiled, though I could tell in an instant it was a forced one. He seemed distraught, so I beckoned him to lower his head so I could whisper to him, "Don't worry, Kasha was cruel but I don't care about her anymore. Kurit and I are married now, and there's nothing she can do to reverse that."

He stood back to full height and smiled again, but still it was pained—more so, it seemed. I reached up and touched his cheek gently. "Honestly, Jarik," I said over the tumultuous noise of the well-wishers, "I'm happy. I'm happier than I ever imagined I could be. Don't fret for me."

That seemed to help, and his smile became somewhat more genuine. He bowed his head to me again, this time to softly kiss my cheek. "That is all that matters to me, Aenna. Your happiness is all that matters," he whispered so quietly I almost could not hear it, though he said it right to my ear.

"Shouldn't you be off to practice your defence strategy?" said Kurit to Jarik, seeming loud following Jarik's quiet words. "You'll need it!" he teased, and I ducked out of the way for Jarik's inevitable retaliation. But Jarik stood still, his eyes still on me as though he had not heard Kurit speak. I felt a strange flutter in my heart as he looked at me, the same odd, intense feeling I had experienced when our eyes had locked in that dance lesson that seemed so long ago.

Then he broke the eye contact and looked behind me at Kurit. "I shall win the tournament, have no doubt," he said in a flat, emotionless voice. "You just be sure to care well for your new bride and treat her with the honour and respect that she deserves." Then he turned and strode quickly away.

When I turned to Kurit, I saw the oddest look on his face. "What was that about?" I asked.

Kurit broke from his apparent reverie and smiled benevolently at me. "Nothing. He's just in a strange mood today. Probably the pressure to win. Everyone expects him to, you know."

I shook my head. "No, Kurit, he seems upset about something. I thought I knew what it was, but now I'm not sure."

"Don't fret over that overgrown brute," Kurit jested. "He'll go break a few bones and bloody a few noses in the tournament, and then he'll be fine." Then Kurit kissed me, and I decided to take his advice and ignore Jarik's broodishness.

We walked to the area of the meadow where the tournament was to be held. Kurit escorted me to my seat in the stands that had been built for the occasion. Great wreaths of vines and flowers were wrapped around the pillars that held up the roof. Their scent was sweet and fresh in the summer air. I settled back into the soft chair in absolute happiness.

Kurit excused himself for a moment to go speak with someone. I sat quietly alone for some time, watching the hopeful warriors prepare themselves and their equipment. Jarik and Kurit had been furious two weeks before when they had learned that several men who had been planning to compete had unexpectedly cancelled without reason. Kurit suspected his mother's influence and stormed about for some time until I assured them both that less carnage hardly offended me, and it didn't matter since we all knew who would win in the end. That had made Jarik blush with pride—a truly adorable thing to behold—and had eased Kurit's anger sufficiently.

My quiet thoughts were interrupted by a man who stood before me and introduced himself, though I recognized him instantly without introduction.

"Good day to you, Princess Aenna. I am Lord Cael of Alesha."

It was the first time that anyone had used my new title besides the Abbott, and despite it I rose to curtsey, saying, "My Lord, I know you."

He took my hand to interrupt the curtsey and jovially said, "Your Highness, I am no longer your Lord! You are my Princess!" He bowed to me instead, and indicated that I should sit again. I did, and he took the seat beside me. Though it had been several years since his visit to the inn where I worked, he still looked the same. He had short reddish-brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard of the same colour. His eyes were friendly and bright, and the corners of them and his mouth were creased from a lifetime of smiles, one of which was upon his face at that moment.

"Don't blush so at the error, Your Highness. I can't imagine what a challenge it must be to adjust to such a change." He patted my arm kindly. "I am eminently proud to have an Aleshan wedded into the royal family! It's about time we brought back the northern wisdom and beauty to these dark-haired folk," he teased, and we both laughed.

"Thank you, Lord Cael. Your support means a great deal to me," I confessed.

"Oh, my support you have indeed. I have heard great tales of your wisdom. Did you know that the King told the entire Council about that ugly matter of what happens to virtuous barmaids that you brought to the Prince's attention?"

I had actually forgotten about that entire discussion, having been so busy with other concerns. "No, I had not been told," I said. "Please, what was decided?"

"Well, there was a great deal of concern about giving too much power to the King's Guard. That's a very complicated issue, one which I'm sure you'll grow more aware of in time. It has to do with the fact that some Lords don't approve of the King having a hand in their affairs at all, and others that are all too glad to have the King pay for their bodyguards. But among those in the Council, it was agreed that such abhorrent behaviour by noblemen cannot continue. Of course, there were many voices of doubt that it even happened at all, but King Tarken spoke at great length of your honour and wisdom, and his respect carries a great deal of weight with the council. It certainly does with me. He is not one to make light of a serious issue, nor to overemphasize the trivial, and when he brought his fist down on the table to silence those who questioned your word, well, the lords listened."

Brought his fist down on the table? I thought. I was amazed that I had had such an effect, when I had not even spoken with the King about the matter. I wondered if Kurit had overplayed my words, or if King Tarken really took me so seriously.

"In the end," Lord Cael continued, "it was decided that your suggestion to have the Guards responsible first to their oath to uphold the law was a sound one, even in matters other than the abuse of peasant women. A law was passed to make the King's Guards responsible to report any legal wrongdoing by anyone, regardless of other oaths or loyalties.

"So you see, Your Highness, though we have not met, I already have a great respect for your wisdom. If you have impressed my King, you have impressed me. And as an Aleshan, I hold you in even higher esteem. You may count on my support in any matter, Highness. If ever you need an advocate, know that I or my ambassador will gladly join your side."

I was speechless. To have the guaranteed support of such a good man meant so much to me that I could not express my appreciation to him adequately. "Thank you," I managed to say and then for some reason blurted out, "But we have met, though you probably don't recall it."

"No, I don't. Please, refresh my memory."

So like a fool I told him of how he had been kind and generous so long ago, when I was just a barmaid. But he did not find me foolish. He laughed pleasantly and said, "I wish I recalled it better, Your Highness, but I regret that I have stayed in so many inns in my travels that they are all a blurred vision in my memory. And now here you are. Truly, your story is a fascinating one."

"I'm not sure if that's always a good thing," I confessed.

"Fear not, Princess Aenna—those who are obsessed with your roots will have their day when they realize their folly in judging you harshly." He patted my arm again and said, "Here comes your Prince. I should vacate his chair before I end up as part of the duelling." He laughed.

"Is this vagabond disturbing you, Aenna?" Kurit asked as he approached. They seemed to know each other well.

"Not at all. Lord Cael has been very kind and generous in his words of praise," I replied, trying to sound dignified when what I really felt was girlish giddiness.

"Oh, has he? I've been married less than a day, and already you're trying to steal another one away from me, are you?" Kurit said, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips in pretence of threat.

Lord Cael rolled his eyes. "Here it comes again," he muttered and then laughed again.

"Don't you take that tone with me, you woman-stealing fiend," Kurit teased, waving a fist in jest.

The Aleshan Lord turned to me with a mock look of tired frustration. "Your Highness, Prince Kurit threatens me under the misguided belief that my wife, the beautiful Lady Tyella, might once have loved him."

I had not heard of this before, and I admit I felt vaguely threatened. After all, Kurit had told me repeatedly that he had loved no other. I looked at my husband with confusion.

He caught my look and ended the game. "Oh, Cael, we should stop. I don't want to upset my poor bride. Aenna, Tyella and I were close friends as children. She moved to Staelorn from Endren when we were still young, and though I did not see her again until years later, when she married Cael, I teased him that he had stolen my love away. It has been a long-time jest between us. So when he was sitting here with you, I naturally had to come and tease that he was going to steal you away. Forgive me—I should have known that you didn't know the background to the story."

Lord Cael nodded and said, "Forgive me as well, Your Highness. We are stupid boys playing immature games. I hope we have not upset you."

I smiled at them. "Is my possessiveness that obvious?"

They seemed relieved that I did not become upset. Each of them took one of my hands and kissed it in a gentlemanly fashion. Then Kurit cast a sideways glance to Cael, who still held my hand, and stepped quickly towards him to bump him away. Cael stumbled, letting go of my hand abruptly, but Kurit snatched it back up, holding both my hands as he took his seat.

Cael regained his balance and said, "You're both possessive." He laughed as he took the seat beside Kurit for the tournament. He leaned forward to catch my eye and said, "Princess Aenna, if you can ever escape this mad fool for any length of time, I would be delighted if you would visit us in Staelorn."

I thanked him for the invitation, and he sat back in his chair. Kurit leaned to me and said quietly, "Honestly, Aenna, you're the only one I've ever loved. You do believe me, don't you?"

I nodded at him. "I should be used to your absurd silliness by now. I should have known you were speaking in jest, but I did not know Lord Cael was like you in that regard."

"He is," Kurit confirmed. "He may be ten years my senior, but who do you think taught me how to be such a rogue? Certainly not my father. I acquired this regrettable jesting attitude from him."

"It's not entirely regrettable," I said to him quietly.

"Really?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

"I adore you when you're silly. Most of the time."

"Oh, I see," he said, raising his eyebrows mockingly. "Would you adore it if I were to, say, reach over and tickle you, here in front of all these people?" He gave me a wicked grin that implied he meant the threat.

"No, I most certainly would not adore that!" I whispered, wide-eyed, leaning to the opposite side of my chair.

He leaned right over both chairs to growl at me, "Well then, I'll save that for later." I shoved him back into his seat, and we laughed as the call to begin the tournament echoed over the field.

I watched for too long as perhaps forty young men beat each other bloody with false wooden swords in a ridiculous series of mock battles, just for the apparent honour of being my Champion. Thankfully, there were few serious injuries, but nonetheless I was suitably revolted.

Kurit asked me early on if I was unwell because I had gone pale at the sight of one young fellow's forearm being broken.

"Is this really necessary?" I said, averting my eyes.

"You should be flattered, Aenna. They suffer these things in an attempt to be worthy to be your Champion."

"Ugh, I don't imagine I need a Champion. Why can't you just be my Champion?"

"I'm flattered you'd consider me, dear," he said, kissing my hand.

"Then why can't we just say that you are and end this carnage?"

"Because I'm not allowed to be your Champion. Royal women are to be protected day in and day out by their Champions. I'm supposed to have enough other things to do that, in theory, I cannot be worried at every moment for you. Of course, I shall always be concerned for you in every moment, but I suppose I shall worry less as long as Jarik is with you. That's the point. If he's watching over you, I don't have to panic if you're not within my sight."

"Then why can't I just declare Jarik my Champion and be done with it?" I asked as one of the nearby duels resulted in a spray of blood when an older man took his wooden sword to another man's nose. I cringed.

Kurit saw my reaction and said, "Don't look at it if it bothers you. I'm surprised it does, though, since you're usually far from squeamish."

"It's not the blood, it's the implied pain that bothers me. And you didn't answer my question." I looked to the other end of the field where Jarik fought some poor fool. I decided to keep my eye on Jarik, as he was unlikely to be bludgeoned as the others were. His skill was actually quite a remarkable sight. He easily parried the blows that came his way, dancing around his opponent almost joyfully.

"You can't just choose a Champion. First of all, it would be unseemly because it might imply that you have romantic feelings for him. Secondly—and you won't like this part—it's assumed that no proper lady could possibly know or understand enough about danger or fighting or any such thing, so she couldn't possibly make a sound decision."

I gave him a narrow-eyed glare for that comment.

"Don't be angry with me! I know that you know better!" he said quickly, holding his hands up in placation. "But that's the assumption. And I can't choose for you, because I might choose my friend over someone more worthy. It's considered a very serious position and must not be allowed to be tainted by any possible bias or scandal. So a tournament is held, and the man who proves himself there before all of the witnesses gathered is known to be the best man available for the duty. Plus, believe it or not, most of these people enjoy the tournaments."

That was certainly evident by the cheering and enthusiasm of the crowd. "It's barbaric," I muttered. "It's something the Wusul would do."

"Hardly. These men are all participating voluntarily and for a worthy goal. The Wusul make their male slaves fight to the death for amusement."

"Who is your mother's Champion?" I muttered to him, pitying the poor man in my mind.

Kurit's face took on an uncomfortable look, but he answered me nonetheless. "Jarik's father was. Before he married my father's sister. He resigned the position when he married. It's a very long, complex story that no one likes to talk about. It shall suffice to say that she has no official Champion now because she won't suffer to allow anyone such authority, and no man seems willing to suffer her abuse. It's quite improper on all counts, but understandably, no one has yet had the desire to set things right."

I dropped the issue, not wishing to hear anything further about Kasha, whom I had noticed to be conspicuously absent since the wedding itself had ended. "When we were first coming to Endren, you said 'your' parents were deceased," I said, giving him enough of a feigned dirty look to make him return a feigned sheepish one. "Can I assume that, in fact, Jarik's parents are gone?"

Kurit nodded. "There was a fire. He was just a small child and was saved by his nurse. I had only just been born. That was why he was sent to be raised by his uncle, my father. Don't ask Jarik about his parents, Aenna. If you think he's been oddly morose lately, you don't want to know how he can be when missing the family he hardly knew."

"Kurit, that's so tragic," I said. I looked over where Jarik fought with such strength, and the idea of him feeling such loss broke my heart.

Kurit nodded and said, "Yes. Let's not speak of such things. This is supposed to be a happy day, Aenna." He made what seemed to be a forced little smile and kissed my hand.

Our attention returned to the tournament, which did little to cheer my mood. Being flattered by the intent of these men, however, I was sure to applaud the winners of each bout in due course. The numbers dwindled, and as the sky changed colour with the impending sunset, it came down to Jarik and a fierce young man—barely a boy, in my opinion, with his baby-smooth face—by the name of Zajen, a relative of Lord Kiene of Asune. I had never seen the boy before and had no notion as to why he battled so vehemently on my behalf. He had fought with skill throughout the afternoon, but what had kept him winning was a relentless pursuit that drove his opponents quickly to stumble or make a mistake.

Jarik and Zajen bowed to me. I expected to see confidence on Jarik's face—he was at least double the size of the younger man—but his countenance was wisely controlled as the fight began.

It was an amazing thing to behold: two warriors of very different but almost equal skill, clashing wooden swords together in a flurry of repeated strikes and parries, making quite the racket. Four times the wooden swords were cracked right through—three times for Zajen as he would manage to stave off one of Jarik's heavy blows. Both men would pause where they were while a boy would run out with a replacement and scoop the broken bits away. Then they would continue to lunge at each other.

The first half of the fight had Zajen attacking Jarik continually, though the larger man held his ground with some effort. Zajen bounced about, hacking wildly, never landing a blow on Jarik's body. Jarik made few attempts to strike back, and soon I realized his strategy was to let the boy tire himself out. Jarik's face was sweaty with effort but bore no expression of anger or strain.

As the poor boy began to indeed tire, Jarik was able to strike back. He landed a serious blow to Zajen's arm, forcing the young man to fight with the wrong hand thereafter. It was not long until Jarik struck him with several other sound wallops, eventually knocking the wind out of him sufficiently that he grew weak.

Still, brave young Zajen did not relent. He fought on until Jarik finally won by knocking the sword out of his hand, sending it flying out towards the field. Zajen fell to his knees, exhausted and defeated, as a thunderous cheer erupted from the audience. Always the gentleman, Jarik stuck his false sword into the ground and offered a hand to help the boy to his feet. Zajen managed to stand, bow in respect, and wobble away to the physician's tent.

Proudly and with a beaming smile as I had never seen before on good Jarik's face, he turned to me and exclaimed, "By right of this tournament, I claim the title of Champion to the Princess Aenna!" Cheers rung out again as he bowed deeply.

"Go give him a maidenly kiss on the cheek," Kurit whispered. "It's appropriate, and I'll enjoy watching him blush!"

I laughed and left my seat to go to Jarik. He knelt as I approached, took my hand, and kissed it decorously. As he rose, I took his face in my hands and planted a kiss on his cheek. He pretended to stumble backwards, clasping his hands to his heart and grinning foolishly, as though I had moved him greatly. The crowd laughed and cheered anew. After that round of applause died out, they quickly dispersed, most of the lords and ladies eager to head into the palace for dinner.

"I feel as though I owe you a prize." I said with a laugh as Jarik ran his hands through his sweaty hair. "You worked so hard for me, and I have nothing with me to give you in reward."

"He'll tell you now that being your Champion is the only prize that his noble heart desires," Kurit teased as he approached.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to swat you, little brat," Jarik responded, visibly exhausted but still smiling nonetheless.

An idea struck, so I walked quickly back to the stands to pluck a flower out of the garlands. I chose a budding white one that was around the back where it had not wilted in the hot sun. As I walked back to them, I pulled out one of the many green ribbons that was entwined in the bushel of ringlets at the back of my head. I tied it in a bow around the flower and presented it to Jarik.

"It's not much, but here is a token prize of thanks," I said with a happy smile.

For a moment I thought I had offended him, perhaps by offering him a prize when one was not expected, for his proud grin faded as he beheld my gift, small in his large hands. Then he looked at me with such tender fondness and said softly, "That is very thoughtful of you. I shall cherish your gift, Aenna. Thank you."

It was a heavy moment. Jarik stared at me with unwavering appreciation, and Kurit's face took on an odd, vaguely jealous look. Before it all could become too overwhelming, I forced myself to smile at them both and took a hand from each of them in my own.

"Come then, I am hungry. I want my dear husband and my dear Champion to escort me back for our dinner!" I happily demanded. The strange moment broken, they both smiled and led me to the waiting coach.

Dinner was pleasant, and afterwards we all went to the ballroom to dance. My first few, of course, were with my dear new husband, whom I allowed to entrap me in that addictive eye contact Jarik had warned me about. I wish I knew what words would properly describe my ultimate joy in those moments, but every phrase that comes to mind seems either to miss the mark or sound superfluous.

I danced also with King Tarken, who kept whispering to me to stop being so nervous. He laughed at my girlish little blushes and spun me about quickly and merrily. When the song ended, I caught a glimpse of Kasha's fury from a back corner of the room but quickly ignored her before the King would notice and feel badly for me.

Soon Jarik joined us, having taken the time during dinner to bathe and change his clothes. He danced with me happily but making an obvious effort to not catch my eye. Poor, wonderful Jarik, I thought. He worked so hard this afternoon for me, yet here he works again to ensure that I do not appear unseemly.

Lord Cael asked for the next dance, but just then the musicians decided to take a short break. I promised to find him when the music began again. He bowed with a flourish in reply and said, "Just don't seek me too eagerly, Your Highness, or your husband shall accuse me of further treachery!"

I laughed as he strode away. Then, Leiset was behind me, tapping my shoulder.

"Aenna, I must go now, but I wanted to ensure there was nothing else you wanted taken along to the cottage."

"No," I said as I walked with her towards the door. "We went over everything a thousand times last night. Anything forgotten deserves to be so. I feel badly that you have to go so soon."

"Don't be silly," she said happily. "I don't care for dancing and such silliness anyway. It's my duty to go have your room prepared for you. Gilrin may seem very uppity and dull, but I've been told that in private he shares many a delicious story of gossip, so my trip shouldn't be boring!"

"I do appreciate it, though."

"I know. That's what makes my job so pleasant: I know I'm appreciated. I'm so happy for you, Aenna. Your face is alight with joy!"

I embraced her fondly, and she returned the gesture in kind. "I am joyous. And relieved and excited and..." I sighed, unable to express the thousands of words for my feelings.

Leiset ended the embrace and said, "And you deserve it. Now I must run, or Gilrin will be in a foul mood and the trip won't be so delightful." She hurried away as I watched her go.

"You know, it really is terribly inappropriate to be seen embracing one's maidservant," came a menacing voice behind me. I turned to find Sashken standing there, arms crossed in disapproval. "But then, I suppose that you are closer to her station after all, so perhaps the friendship is natural."

Her obvious attempt to infuriate me almost worked, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile at her and speak sweetly. "I suppose it is a natural friendship indeed, and I am glad of it."

She looked at me disdainfully, shaking her head in disgust. "It really is sad. Poor Kurit. He has no idea how disappointed he soon shall be."

"Disappointed?" I repeated questioningly.

"How could he not be? When he discovers that his new bride is a fat, bloated peasant under her fancy dress and that she has no notion of how to please a man, he will most certainly regret his foolish choice," she said coldly.

I forced myself again to smile sweetly and said in a voice that positively dripped with sugar and honey, "Indeed? Well, I cannot predict the future, but I do know in his past he has been suitably revolted by skinny, conniving naked women who attempt to seduce him in his sleep. Revolted enough to even cast such a whore from his chambers, if you can imagine such a scene. I should think that in the many times he has kissed me, expressing his desires to me in poetic words of love, that he might have had a notion that I am indeed what he wants in a woman. But thank you for your dear concern, Sashken. When we return and I am carrying his child as a result of our passions, perhaps then you shall have greater faith in the wisdom of your future King."

Grinning as she stood, mouth agape, in shock and jealous hatred, I swept away from her as grandly as I knew how. Inside, my stomach quivered with nervousness at having stood up to her, but my heart was full with pride and joy that I had done it so successfully. I resisted the urge to skip as I went to where Kurit stood, laughing in conversation with some lord or other.

"There you are," he said as I took his arm and led him to the dance floor. "Why do you look as though you've just won a great battle? Your smile threatens to reach your ears, silly girl!"

As we began to dance I quietly said, "Because I just told Sashken that I know what she tried with you last week, and that you were revolted because I am the woman that you truly desire."

"You didn't!" he laughed.

"I did! She tried to upset me with some nonsense about how disappointed you would be tonight." I reiterated word for word what had been said, watching his eyes grow wide and his jaw drop in merry disbelief. When I finished he spun me around the floor until he could see her. Finally we located her, standing in the shadows with Kasha, weeping pitifully.

Kurit turned his gaze back to me in wonderment. I shrugged and put on an air of defiant pride. He threw his head back and laughed uproariously, garnering many a strange glance from those who danced nearby.

"Oh, my Aenna, you are unbelievable! Just when I think I've seen the limit of your boldness, you put that little harlot in her place!" He swung me about in delight and then tipped me back to kiss me. It may have been somewhat inappropriate, but we were married now and I didn't care who saw us. He pulled me back up quickly, laughing loudly again. "By the Gods, I love you!" he exclaimed.

For the rest of the evening, every time I smiled at him he burst into laughter, even if it was from across the room. He must have told Jarik the story, for soon the tired warrior was responding in kind, though not as boisterously.

### Chapter 10

WHEN IT WAS time to go after we had said our formal good-byes, Kurit escorted me out to the courtyard where the royal coach waited for us. The night air had grown colder than I had anticipated, and my bare arms turned prickly in the wind.

"Kurit, it's rather chilly. I should fetch a wrap," I said, turning to go back inside.

"No need for that," he said. He removed his splendid green wedding cloak and wrapped it around me. "There you are. I don't need it with these half-sleeves."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "Tell me," I whispered to him, "are you being gallant or just that eager to be on our way?"

He winked and whispered, "A little bit of both, dearest."

"Fair enough," I said, feigning innocence. "Let's be off, then."

Kurit scampered to the coach and graciously helped me step up inside. He closed my door and ran around to enter from the other side, telling the coachman and six guards on horseback to start as he closed his door. Taking his seat beside me, he swiftly put a finger beneath my chin, tipped my face upwards and kissed me hard. Then he pulled me close to him and wrapped his arms tightly around me. I just grinned a foolish, happy grin.

The coach rocked as the horses began to tug it, and I sat up to not slip off the seat. In doing so, I caught a glimpse out of my window. There, silhouetted against the light from the palace doors, stood a figure of such bulk that it could only have been Jarik. My guess was confirmed as he leaned back against the open door and the light spilled over his face. His eyes were closed, and he looked upset.

"Kurit," I said quickly, "Jarik is there, and he looks upset. Should we stop?" I turned in the seat as the coach changed its angle to head for the gate.

Kurit looked out behind us to see Jarik. "No," he decided. "He'd be running after us if he wanted us to stop."

"He's been like that all evening," I said, worried. "Do you think he was hurt in the tournament and didn't want us to know?"

"I doubt that," he said. "Well, if he was, he'd certainly hide it, especially from you, but I watched him most of the afternoon and never saw him take a sound strike. Perhaps he's just tired."

We were out of the gate by then, and I could no longer see him. I sighed and sat back, wondering if perhaps he was one of those men who outwardly seemed uninterested in marriage but secretly wished for it, and was thus depressed at witnessing his younger cousin wed.

"Aenna, he's fine. Please don't brood over him. It's bad enough that he frets over your every frown." Kurit took my hand and pointed out the window with his other. "Look, the people are waving to us. Many of them have probably waited in the street for at least an hour now for us to pass."

Sure enough, on either side of the streets there were lined all manner of folk, many waving coloured lanterns of celebration as we passed.

"They all wish to welcome their beautiful new Princess," he said, kissing my hand. His voice took on a deeper, softer tone as he said, "You are so radiant today, my Aenna. The colour of that beautiful dress brings out the best in that marvellous hair of yours. And your sweet eyes, oh Aenna, your eyes dance and sparkle happily, and that fills me with indescribable joy." He caressed my cheeks as he raved for me. Though I felt silly being described so poetically, I admit I loved hearing it. "My greatest desire is for your life to be a happy one, and a close second to that is my desire to be a part of it." He leaned to me and nuzzled his forehead softly against mine, then kissed me with sweet tenderness.

As usual, the kisses became increasingly erotic, and since we had just been wed there was nothing to hold him back. But to my complete amazement, he stopped himself and said, "I can't go on doing this. I promised myself I would behave until we reach the cottage."

"Really?" I asked, unable to hide my bafflement. "Why the sudden change?"

"Because I know you, my pretty wife," he said teasingly, tapping the end of my nose lightly with his index finger. "You'll want your bath after our busy day, and it's very important to me that everything be right and comfortable and pleasant for you tonight. So I shall behave until you've had your bath."

"And then?" I asked, knowing full well that I was prompting him to salacious speech.

He leaned close to me and spoke in a low voice, "And then I'm going to give you such pleasures that you won't know your own name when I am done." He kissed me softly, a promise for later, and said coyly, "If that's what Your Highness desires."

I was so aroused and enchanted that I thought I might melt away in his arms. I nodded, unable to speak. He embraced me, and his warmth and scent made me want him all the more. But he was right; I also dearly wanted a hot bath.

"I hope you're not disappointed," he whispered.

"No," I said. "As much as I want you, I am indeed tired and in need of a bath. And it's a long ride, four hours you said, without even any scenery to view in this darkness."

"Why don't you sleep, then?" I could that tell he wanted to add that I'd be better rested for later, but he was trying so hard to be a gentleman.

"I'd love to, but I'll end up with a sore neck from my head lolling about."

"Let me fix that, my dear," he said. He took his cloak from me and rolled one corner loosely into a ball. Then he wrapped what remained around my upper body and balanced the roll on his shoulder. "There," he said proudly. "Now you can lean comfortably against me and sleep."

He lifted his arm and put it gently around me as I snuggled into the pillow on his shoulder. "You care so kindly for me," I said in gratitude.

"That, Aenna, is my duty above all others. And don't you dare argue me on it." He kissed my forehead sweetly.

"You cared well for me from the start." I laughed softly and said, "Do you remember those makeshift boots on our way to Endren?"

He laughed as well. "Mm-hmm. I was already falling in love with you, though it was still all too new and unexpected for me to know it by those words. Regardless, I wasn't about to let you catch your death of cold."

"Kurit, may I confess something to you?"

"Of course."

"When we shared the blankets on those cold nights, I desperately wanted to lean against you, to put my head on your shoulder."

He tightened his embrace momentarily. "You should have. I wanted to put my arm around you, but I had promised to be a gentleman, and I was so afraid that I would do so in my sleep that I kept it firm to my chest and the other under my head. I thought for sure you would despise me if I dared to touch you so boldly."

"I longed for it, to be truthful. But to also be fair, I might have been offended."

"You were when you found out who I was. I can't believe I behaved so well only to be accused of trying to seduce you."

"I'm sorry, Kurit, I—"

"Hush, now, don't start that," he said with a smile. "I know, you were embarrassed and shocked, and understandably so. But think back on it now. You know what a beast I am. Can you imagine how I was withholding myself then? Having been attracted to you that first night and falling in love with you by the third?"

"It must have nearly killed you," I teased.

"Indeed!" he exclaimed. We laughed, after which I covered my mouth in a great yawn. "Sleep now, Aenna. It will make the distance fly past without notice."

"Are you going to sleep as well?"

"No. I have you in my arms. I'm too delighted to sleep. I have a thousand poetic words racing around in my mind for you."

Dreamily and drifting, I suggested, "Why don't you write me a love poem, then?"

"Because it would sound silly when I was done, and the words would never be right. Now I shall stop speaking, for I see that your eyes are closing."

* * *

My next recollection is of being thrown against the wall of the coach with Kurit almost landing upon me. My head crashed against the door, and only the great mass of ringlets gathered up in back saved me from a sound bump. I screamed as the coach was dragged to a stop, tilting to one side, with Kurit bracing himself between the seats to avoid crushing me.

The door behind me rattled as someone tried to open it. I called out to Kurit in panic, thinking that we were being robbed.

"It's the guard, Aenna," he said quickly, able to see out the window from his awkward position. He stumbled forward to release the door's bolt. The guard opened it, allowing me to fall out. The guard caught me and helped me slide out of the tipped coach, asking if I was hurt.

"No," I managed to say, though I was fully panicked and unsure what was going on, my head still thick with the fog of sleep. As the guard helped me to stand, Kurit jumped out behind me and embraced me.

"Are you sure you're not hurt? You hit your head, twice at least." He looked me over, touching my head, face, arms, and waist in great worry.

"I think my hair cushioned my head," I stammered. My arms were bare, as I had fallen out of Kurit's cloak in the chaos. I shivered, cold with half-sleep and the night air on my skin. My gaze darted about as I wondered what had happened.

Kurit saw me shivering and reached inside the coach to fetch his cloak. He bundled it around me and held me to him protectively. Then he shouted over my head, "What in the Temple's sight is going on?" He rubbed his hands up and down my arms to warm me up.

"It's the front wheel, Your Highness," said the coachman. I couldn't see him, since my face was buried in Kurit's shoulder, but I heard great anxiety in his voice. "I can't understand it. The axle has broken! I inspected everything carefully just this afternoon, and there was no weak spot, I swear, Your Highness!"

All but one of the guards had dismounted and were hurriedly lighting lanterns. They stood them on the ground near where the axle had broken.

Kurit stood back from me and said, "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm sure. I was just startled to be woken so. Go and see what has gone wrong. I shall be fine, really."

He nodded, kissed my cheek, and went to join the other men who were squatting to peer under the carriage. The guard on horseback rode a short distance, dismounted, and returned with the wheel that had broken off. I stepped out of his way as he passed.

The men inspected the wheel as I wandered just out of the light. The half-moon cast an eerie glow to the meadow landscape, and I shivered again.

"Your Highness, there is scoring here," said one of the men, perhaps the coachman.

Scoring? How would an axle be scored such that it could break, if it was inspected for weak spots just this afternoon? I wondered.

Then an awful thought crept into my mind: perhaps someone had meant to have the axle break along our way.

No, don't be silly, I told myself. What would that gain? The marriage is official and complete. Delaying the wedding night accomplishes nothing.

Of course, awful thoughts are inevitably accompanied by worse ones, all in an avalanche of increased paranoia.

But what if they also planned to have us followed? I thought. What if someone wants me out of Kurit's life badly enough to have me killed in his presence? What if they're on their way behind us now? Or what if it's a renewed plot against Kurit? Or both of us?

The more my mind pondered these notions, the more frightened I became, and the more elaborate the scheme became in my mind. A vicious circle of fear had begun, and before I knew it, I was shuddering in terror, tears streaking my face.

Kurit came back to my side, whether to tell me something or because he heard my soft sobbing, I did not know. But he saw my tears and shaking and grew instantly concerned.

"You are hurt," he said with worry, touching my face and arm gently.

"No, no I'm not," I stammered, feeling very foolish. "It's just, have you ever had an unpleasant thought pop into your mind, and then as you think about it, it gets worse, and the worse it gets the harder it is to push from you mind?"

"What is it? Tell me, Aenna."

I shook my head. "I can't. You'll think I'm a fool."

"I would never think such a thing of you, my love. Clearly, you're very upset. Please, what is it?"

"I overheard the coachman say the axle looks scored, and it made me wonder if..." I sighed at my stupidity. "It made me think that perhaps, if there was someone who truly disapproved of our marriage, or just wanted one or both of us out of the way, that maybe they would damage the axle so it would break along our journey and then have assassins or some such thing coming along behind us to catch us like this, trapped in the dark in the middle of nowhere."

Kurit's face bore an odd, blank expression as he fell silent for a moment. I suspected that he was trying to think of a kind way to tell me not to be so very ridiculous. But then he looked over my shoulder to the group of guards and shouted, "We're going. Now."

"But, Your Highness," one guard protested, "the coach is not yet fixed. The coachman has just started to bind it together. It will take some time still."

"We're not waiting for it," Kurit declared. He put his arm around me and guided me to where a guard stood holding the reins of the horses. "It isn't safe to have the Princess out here like this. We shall take a horse, Aenna shall ride with me, and four of you shall escort us in all haste to the cottage. Two of you may remain with the coachman, and together you shall fix the axle and come behind us when you are able. The scoring could be sabotage, and I have no intention of standing around to find out if that's the case."

The men reacted in alarm at the suggestion of sabotage. They quickly surveyed the scene and checked the saddles of the horses for similar scoring. None was found. The coachman said he couldn't be sure if it was deliberate scoring or not because of how the wood had broken.

"Well we shall not wait to find out," said Kurit in an authoritative tone. "Come, Aenna, let's be off."

Kurit helped me up to one of the horses and mounted beside me as he had in Mikilrun, though obviously with less enthusiasm. Within moments, we were galloping along the dark landscape surrounded by the guards on each side.

"Kurit, you don't honestly imagine that my silly notion could be true?" I asked over the noise of the horses.

"I can't imagine that Mother would go so far, no. But I wasn't about to stand around to see if I was right."

"I didn't suggest her," I said.

"You don't have to, which is the depressing part of it. I'm just glad she didn't do anything nasty to ruin the wedding."

It was my misfortune that he chose that moment to glance at my face. Though it was only the light of the half-moon overhead that showed it, he saw by my expression that he had misspoken. Under his breath, such that I could barely hear it with the noise of the wind and horses, he muttered several unrepeatable phrases.

"What did she do?" he demanded to know. I summarized the unpleasant encounter for him. He clenched his jaw, saying nothing.

"But, Kurit, it didn't spoil the wedding for me. Your father visited me shortly thereafter and said the kindest, most inspirational things." I recounted that for him as well, and finally his face relaxed, though he was still clearly perturbed.

Neither of us spoke for the next half hour. I kept my arms wrapped about him, feeling how tense he was, regretting very much having told him anything about his mother. In time, we crested a hill and saw lights peeking out amongst the trees that surrounded a building in the distance.

"There it is, Aenna," Kurit said. I felt him breathe a sigh of relief and relax somewhat.

We stopped just short of the front porch of the beautiful royal summer home. They called it a cottage, but it was larger and sturdier than most farmhouses. I longed for daylight that I might better see it.

The guards quickly dismounted and helped me to do so as well. As Kurit did the same after me, a middle-aged woman came out of the cottage with Leiset and Gilrin close behind.

"Where's the coach?" Leiset asked in alarm when she saw us standing beside the horse. She rushed to me in concern.

"We'll explain later, Leiset," Kurit insisted. "Come, the guards shall take care of the horses. Let's go inside quickly." He put a protective arm around my shoulders and hurried me into the warmth and light of the cottage.

Everything inside was constructed with a rich, warm wood that gave off a homey scent. I could also detect the lingering odour of what smelled like a roast chicken dinner from a few hours before. Several lamps were lit to make the rooms bright, especially the parlour, where Kurit guided me to sit and rest.

Leiset and the others followed us in. Leiset was in a terrible fret, so I said, "The axle of the coach broke." She rushed to me and asked if we were hurt, and she calmed herself only after repeated assurances that we were not.

"Could it not be repaired?" asked the other woman.

"The coachman felt that he could fix it well enough to continue," Kurit said, "but it was not safe for Aenna to be kept out in the night. I expect the coach will arrive very late, possibly close to dawn. Oh, Aenna, this is Pirine. She and her husband Mikel are the caretakers."

Pirine curtsied politely, and I mustered a tired smile for her.

"Shall I fetch you some tea?" she offered. Kurit and I both nodded.

"I shall draw your bath if you wish it," Leiset said quietly to me.

"Soon," I replied. "I need the tea first."

"Could you all leave Aenna and me alone for a moment, please?" Kurit asked, and everyone complied. He sat with me on a great, soft couch and took my hand. "Aenna, I'm sorry if this has ruined your evening. If you are tired and wish to postpone things until tomorrow night, I shall certainly understand."

"I'll be fine once I have some tea and a bath," I said, smiling at him.

He nodded and kissed my forehead. "But if you should decide at any point that tonight's events have tired you or made you feel at all uncomfortable, it's very important to me that you feel that you can be honest and tell me you just wish to sleep."

We had some wonderfully warm and soothing tea in the parlour, after which I went up with Leiset to the bedchamber attached to the master room. She had my bath ready, and I was delighted to sink slowly into it. It was soothing, and on any other night I would have gone straight to sleep afterwards, but thoughts of Kurit tantalized my mind. I became greatly aroused in the hot water and quickly finished. Knowing that he would not expect anything of me made me more desirous of him, for it put me in a position of decision and control that I discovered I rather enjoyed.

Having carefully hung my wedding gown away, Leiset brought out a nightdress that was clearly not designed for sleeping. Instead of sleeves, it had only a thin cord to go over each shoulder. It was a sheer, thin material of white with tiny blue flowers embroidered down the sides. I dried myself quickly, braided my hair, and slipped the garment on.

"Aenna, you'll corrupt that man," Leiset said in bawdy praise.

"Oh, it's far too late for that," I mused quietly, looking at myself in the mirror. Kurit would indeed go mad for it. The neckline was so low that most of the upper portions of my breasts showed. I felt deliciously naughty.

"Remember, Aenna, just because you're married doesn't mean you can't behave as a lady."

"What if I don't want to?" I said, grinning mischievously. Her jaw dropped, and before she could scold me for my brashness, I tapped on the door to the master bedchamber. I heard Kurit beckon me to come in, so I gave Leiset a naughty wink and went through the door.

My boldness came to an abrupt halt as I closed the door behind me and saw what Kurit had done to the bedchamber. Candles, a thousand candles it seemed, had been placed on every available surface but the bed itself.

"Did you do all of this?" I asked breathlessly.

He nodded as he sauntered towards me. He wore a simple pair of dark cotton trousers and an unlaced shirt. "Why do you think I insisted that you take the time for a nice long bath?" He touched his index fingers to my bare shoulders and slowly traced lines down my arms, his gaze following to look me over hungrily.

"Do you like the gown?" I managed to ask as my heart thundered in my chest.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured. "It's beautiful. I don't want to have to look at it any more." He wrapped his hands around my arms and pulled me to him, kissing me. I put my arms around him, clasping my hands behind his neck as we kissed.

His lips wandered from mine, kissing my cheeks, my closed eyes, my forehead. He held my head in his hands as he covered it with tender kisses, and every time he returned to my lips he swept them lightly with the tip of his tongue, making me gasp in rapture.

I felt his hands caress their way down my throat, teasing my flesh with gentle swirls of his adept fingers. His hands danced lightly across my shoulders as he pushed his mouth against mine.

I tipped my head back to expose my neck, where he quickly moved his lips and nibbled softly, delighting me, making my legs feel wonderfully weak. He grasped the thin straps of my gown and pulled them to the sides, down my arms, running his outstretched thumbs over my stiffened nipples along the way. He stopped kissing me for a moment to pull back enough for a look. His eyes closed and he breathed deeply. "My Aenna," he moaned, letting go of the gown as it sat about my hips. His hands found my breasts. I shuddered with desire at his touch, and he opened his eyes quickly to look at me.

I smiled at him, blushing slightly at my delighted shudder. Seeing that I was not upset in the least, he continued to kiss me as he caressed my breasts, cupping one in one hand while twirling his fingers around the nipple of the other. When I made a soft cry of arousal, he slid his hands down my sides to my hips. Slowly, he pushed the gown over the swell of my hips, letting the pretty thing fall to the floor. He left his hands on my hips, running his fingers along their curves as I pushed my hands into his open shirt and wrapped my arms around him.

"Pull it off," he whispered as he kissed up my neck and flicked his tongue on my ear lobe. I did so, tugging it out of his trousers and pushing it away from his shoulders. He let go of my hips for just long enough to let the shirt fall away from his arms.

I let my fingers dance up and down his bare back as he did the same again on my hips. Soon, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, laying me gently upon it as I looked into his wonderful eyes. I prayed that he would not speak, not even to ask me if I wanted to continue or to say that he loved me. I wanted to continue, I knew he loved me, and I didn't want any words to bind the dream to reality. This was my every sensual fantasy come true, and I wanted to live it, unspoiled by anything.

Kurit kissed me again, running a finger in circles under my chin, down between my breasts, stopping just below my navel. He stepped out of his trousers and lay beside me, pressing himself against my leg as he kissed me, caressed me, made me moan in delight.

He slowly moved himself onto me, between my legs. Then he moved forward and was inside me, and I bit my lip to not make a noise at the sharp pain of it. He moved in me, kissing my neck, but I was too uncomfortable to take delight in it. Then, just as the discomfort faded and I began to sense a growing pleasure, he grunted, shuddered, and stopped.

I didn't know what to do or say. I wasn't even sure what had happened, or if I had missed something. He rolled to the side, clapped his hands over his face, and groaned. After a moment during which I had remained very still and very confused, he muttered an apology.

He rolled back near me and looked at me with earnest. "I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not so soon."

"Kurit," I said, "I'm not sure what's wrong. Did I do something wrong? Did I not do something I was supposed to?"

"No, no, no," he said quickly, putting a gentle finger on my lips to hush me. "I failed you, not the other way around."

"You did?"

"Well, yes," he said, seeming confused at my question. "Unless you... well unless you are very quiet when you are happy."

I looked at him in complete bafflement.

"Aenna, I finished too soon. I couldn't help it. I've wanted you so badly for so long... It just happened. I wanted to please you so much, I'm really sorry."

I finally understood what he was saying, more or less. "Well, couldn't we just try again?" I asked.

"Yes, of course! I just wish you hadn't gone without already."

"Kurit, I'm not even entirely certain what it is that I'm missing."

A wicked little smile crossed his face. "Then let me show you," he whispered, kissing me again. He moved onto me once more, but this time when he entered me I felt no pain.

He pushed himself up onto his arms, looking down at me in happy ecstasy as he made love with me. His hips moved slowly, sensually. I rubbed my thumbs over the contours of his muscled upper arms, tense as they held him up. I began to feel a warm tickle below my stomach that soon spread as little lines of fire through my torso, up to my nipples, down my arms and legs. He dipped his head down frequently to kiss me or flick my lips with his tongue, the latter never failing to make me moan in delight.

His hair hung forward in his face like a shroud. As his hips moved faster, he snapped his head back in pleasure, sending the hair flying behind him. I don't know why, but that image drove me wild, and my resulting gasp of rapture inspired him to go faster still. He ground himself against a tender spot above where he slipped in and out of me, and I became overwhelmed with unimaginable ecstasy.

Waves of fluidic joy washed over me, and from afar I heard myself cry out his name. I lost all sense of time and place as he took me, grunting in his own delight.

I opened my eyes to find that he had collapsed upon me and was nuzzling my cheek with the bridge of his nose, kissing my chin softly. I wanted to say something romantic or in happy gratitude, but all words were washed away as soon as I managed to consider them. I gave up and just sighed pleasantly.

"That was what I wanted to do for you the first time," he whispered. "But since I failed, I suppose I shall have to make it up to you by giving you a thousand more."

He rolled to the side, slipping his arms around me as he went and pulling me along with him. We lay side by side in silence for a long time, occasionally kissing softly, smiling happily.

When he noticed that our stillness had allowed my skin to become a bit cold, he sat up to pull the blankets up from the foot of the bed. With as much gentle care as he had shown in the coach with his cloak, he wrapped me in their softness.

Then with a kiss on the cheek, he rose. "I should snuff these candles," he said.

"But it will take you all night," I said, pouting playfully.

"Pah. Watch how fast I can go when I get to return to you as a reward for finishing," he replied with a roguish wink. He darted about with the little metal candle snuff, being careful not to tip any over and drop hot wax on the furniture or worse, his naked self. When he was done, he scampered back to the bed and leapt under the covers with me. "See?" he said boyishly, tickling my side before I could block him.

Part of me was still aroused and wanted to entice him to make love with me again, but the rest of me was exhausted from what had been a very long, very busy day. So, when he put his arms around me gently, I simply put my head against his shoulder, my arms folded between us, and fell happily to sleep.

* * *

I woke the next morning at the sound of him moving about the room. He was getting dressed.

"Surely you didn't intend to leave me to wake alone this morning?" I asked with a smile.

Kurit looked up when I spoke. He finished pulling on his trousers, then sat beside me on the bed. "I was hoping you'd stay asleep for just a little bit longer. I have to run downstairs for a moment," he said as he ran a gentle finger down my cheek.

"Whatever for?"

He smiled pleasantly, and though it might have fooled anyone else, I could tell his false smiles from his genuine ones. "I'll be right back up, my love. I promise."

"Something's wrong."

His smile faded somewhat. "Everything's fine, Aenna. I just need to speak with someone downstairs. I'll be right back."

"Kurit, what is it?"

He rose from the bed. "Forgive me for doing this today. I promise, I'll come right back upstairs and tell you everything." He hurried out of the room before I could ask any further questions.

I wondered what loathsome person needed to speak with the Prince so badly that it was worth interrupting his sleep after his wedding night. Then it occurred to me that no one would in their right mind disturb him unless something was very wrong.

I leapt out of the bed and grabbed my nightdress. I pulled it over myself quickly, then went into the other bedroom. Leiset was there, putting out my clothes for the day.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly, for I imagine that I did not have a happy, newlywed expression upon my face.

"I don't know," I muttered, "but I intend to find out. I need to get dressed quickly."

Leiset helped me hurriedly do something passable with my hair and get into a simple dress. Then I ran down the stairs and searched all over for Kurit. I did not find him, so I went outside.

I saw him then, over by the stables. He was speaking with some guards and the coachman from the night before. I jogged over to them, and the others all bowed at my arrival.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

None of them spoke. Each looked to the others warily.

"Well, something must be afoot if you've dragged Kurit out here."

Again, none of them spoke, not even Kurit.

I crossed my arms in frustration. "If someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I shall invent my own notions of what the trouble might be and worry accordingly. So please, gentlemen, what is the problem?"

"Aenna, six armed riders approached the broken-down coach about ten minutes after we left," said Kurit slowly.

My blood turned cold. It is a horrible thing to have one's paranoid delusions come true.

Kurit put a hand on my arm. "Now before you panic, they didn't do anything. As you can see, the coachman stands before us, unhurt. So they may have just been what they claimed to be, innocent travelers."

"Indeed, Highness," said the coachman, "they simply asked if I needed assistance, and when I said I did not, they asked if the people I had been carrying were hurt."

"Well, then they were looking for us," I said, trying not to sound as afraid as I was.

"Not necessarily, Highness," said the guard who had remained behind with the coachman. "The coach was carrying baggage, marked with the royal crest, and everyone in this part of Keshaerlan was well aware of your wedding yesterday. It would be logical, even considerate, for them to have inquired if we had injured people."

I was unconvinced. It seemed too coincidental that armed riders would suddenly come up from behind. "How commonly used is that route?" I asked. "Where does it go, other than here?"

The men looked uncomfortable again. Kurit cleared his throat, kicked at some dirt, and muttered, "It's not really a route to anywhere but here, at that point. It's not unheard of for people to go across open land to get somewhere, though. And it's possible that they could have simply been following the mountain line on their way to Taern."

"Possible, but unlikely," I stated.

Kurit nodded.

"So what now?" I asked.

"Highness, there's not much to be done, other than to ensure guards are kept around the cottage. We cannot hunt down men who truly did nothing wrong."

What reply could I make to that? I did not wish to appear hysterical in front of the other men, and I certainly didn't wish to worry Kurit with my anxieties. I nodded politely at them and returned to the cottage.

Kurit came knocking at my door not long thereafter. He found me there with Leiset, who was upset because I would not tell her what had occurred. I wanted to, but the last thing I needed was for her and me to discuss it and fuel each other's fear. Kurit politely asked Leiset to leave us alone, and she did.

He held his arms out to me, so I rose from my seat and gladly went to him.

As he cradled me to him, he said, "I would never let anyone hurt you, Aenna. I don't think those men meant any harm. I have to believe it's all a coincidence. But even if it wasn't," he insisted as he took my face gently in his hands and looked at me with intense eyes, "even if it was all a plot to harm you, you must always remember that I wouldn't let anyone get to you. When you were wounded by that bolt, I swore to myself that I would never be so careless again. Anyone who wants to harm you has to come through me first."

I put my head on his shoulder as he held me again. "But, Kurit, that's part of the problem. Yes, I fear for my own safety as any sane person would. But I am just as concerned for you. What if you were the target?"

"Don't fret for me," he said.

"How can you think that I wouldn't? It was fretting for you that led me to meet you in the first place," I reminded him. "And that was solely out of duty. Or, fine, perhaps a bit out of a desire for adventure," I admitted. "But I surely didn't love you then. I didn't even know you to set eyes upon you. Now that I love you as I do, how can you imagine for a moment that I could be calm about a threat to either of us?"

"I don't think there is a threat. Honestly, I don't. I'm alert now to the possibility, I suppose, but I cannot make myself believe that anyone would so resent our marriage that they would seek to harm either of us. And I really don't think there are enough of the enemies from Daufrae left alive to gather and strike again." He kissed my forehead and said, "You shall see. Everything shall be fine now, I promise. Don't let these coincidences ruin our early days of marriage."

I tried to smile and look as though he had successfully consoled me, even though he had not. I knew the coincidences had to be more than just that. To this day I believe it was an attempt to destroy me before I could conceive a child by Kurit, though I have never found any direct, unmistakable evidence to prove that.

After the morning meal, I felt sufficiently better that Kurit was able to entice me to go back to the master bedroom with him. We locked the doors, undressed each other, and fell into bed to make love again. The pleasure of his affections put all fear out of my mind for some time.

As we lay in each other's embrace, Kurit drifted into a light sleep. I nodded off briefly myself, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing and the warmth of his arms. My head was nestled into his shoulder, my face turned slightly up towards his neck. As I drifted in and out of a light doze, I kept opening my eyes to stare at his neck. I pondered just how much of his very life was in him there, and how fragile the human neck is. It wasn't that I was afraid of anything in that moment, but more that I was thankful for the preciousness of life.

These thoughts prevented me from falling asleep again. I just lay in Kurit's arms, staring at him and loving him.

As he continued to doze, I found myself aroused just by virtue of having my face and breasts touching his warm, naked flesh. Then my thoughts of human fragility and the beauty of life in spite of it mingled with the arousal to fill me with a hungry desire to make love with him again.

I found myself turning my face to put my lips against his shoulder. I kissed him there, then moved my lower lip softly along his collarbone. The sound of his breathing, the smell of him, the sight of his flesh, and the feeling of his life beneath my roving lips engulfed me in fiery lust.

I moved my head to kiss the middle of his chest. I planted small, open-mouthed kisses up and down his breastbone. Kissing my way up his chest, I felt my almost painfully stiffened nipples brush against him as I moved. I could tell he had woken from my actions, for his breath was no longer slow and regular, but quick and excited, and he moaned softly.

My lips found the edge of the left collarbone, right below his throat. I wrapped them softly around the little bump. Kurit shuddered a little, then began moving his hands delicately up and down my back.

Out of the blue an idea came to me, and the seeming naughtiness of the thought aroused me so much that I became bold in my need. Gently, I pushed him to lie back, and I followed, keeping my lips on his chest and collarbone as we moved.

Blinded to any sense of decency by my delicious arousal, I moved my left leg over him as my lips moved to his throat. He had not bothered to shave yet that day, and as my mouth moved up onto his chin, the stubble made my lips burn. Though I knew they would be irritated as a result later, I could not help but enjoy the tingling of it at that moment, like a small, pleasant torture.

I moved myself over him, knowing full well what I wanted. Kurit either knew it or suspected it as well, for he put his hands on my hips and guided me towards him. Then he raised his own hips, slipping into me.

I made a very unladylike sound of pleasure as I rose up on my arms and rocked against him. On impulse, I moved my hips in a slow, circular motion, which I was delighted to see pleased him so much that he clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Happily, I found myself in control of our lovemaking. I was enthralled by the rush of power over him, knowing that my movements would determine our pleasure. I cast aside all thoughts of virtue and appropriate behaviour as I braced my knees on the bed on either side of him and proceeded to grind myself down upon him. I found that I was able to move that tender spot against him as I wished, so I began concentrating on building that wonderful sensation.

Kurit's eyes opened, and he looked up at me in amazed delight. He kept one hand on my moving hip, and with the other he fondled my freely swinging breasts, pinching my nipples lightly.

I went out of my mind in ecstasy and heard my far-away voice calling out to him wildly. Kurit's deep climax caused him to squeeze my breast painfully, but I was in the throes of passion myself still, and the pain of it excited me all the more.

When finally I collapsed upon him, exhausted, my arms were shaking and my breast throbbed where he had squeezed it too hard. But I didn't care, for it was the greatest pleasure I had ever known, and it had well been worth the minor discomfort afterwards.

I let myself fall to his side, keeping my head on his shoulder. He had his arm around me still and traced small, sensual circles on my back with his fingers.

Eventually we rose again and dressed ourselves. Kurit left the room to the hall as I went into the other bedchamber.

Leiset was there and looked at me knowingly.

"You've had a busy day thus far," she said in a low tone, though she smiled as she spoke.

I tried not to blush, which of course made me turn an even darker shade of red. I pretended I didn't know what she was talking about. "Whatever do you mean?"

Leiset sat down beside me on the edge of the bed. "Aenna, I know you've been married less than a day and you're still excited, but you must learn to control your desires immediately."

"Whatever for?" I asked, still blushing slightly but resentful at the thought of not being able to enjoy marital relations with my new husband. "Kurit doesn't seem at all displeased."

"No, not now, of course not," she said. "At the moment, he's delighted to have won himself a sensual wife. He enjoys your lust now, Aenna, but in time he will come to disrespect you for it."

I shook my head. "No, I can't imagine that. He loves me."

"Of course he loves you, but you are supposed to be a lady, after all. If you let him take you whenever he wishes, or worse, if you pounce upon him constantly yourself, in time he will begin to think that you are not a proper lady after all, and he may well resent you for that."

Leiset rose from the bed. "Furthermore, if you don't learn now to keep his desires under your control, he will take you at every chance he gets, and you'll end up with twenty babies in your lifetime. Not only is that quite unseemly for a lady of high station, but it could easily result in your early death."

I sighed. She was right about that last part. While I very much wished to have children, I certainly did not wish to spend my entire life having one after another until I finally dropped dead from the exhaustion of it. In my childhood at the Temple Academy, those who wished to convince us to join their ranks in service to the Gods often cited escape from a lifetime of bearing babies as a good reason for young women to become priestesses.

I sighed again and left the room, not wishing to hear further lectures on why I shouldn't enjoy the new passions I'd discovered.

After lunch, Kurit and I went for a walk not far from the cottage. He brought his sword with him just in case any of the men who had passed by the broken coach were lingering about.

When we were far enough away that I knew we wouldn't be heard, I bluntly asked, "Kurit, do you find me to be unladylike in my desire for you?"

Startled by the sudden question, he stopped in his tracks and said, "No! Of course not!"

I stood facing him and tried to explain to him why I had asked, but I felt silly and a little bit ashamed. Words failed me as a result, and I began to blush.

Kurit reached out a gentle hand to caress my cheek and asked, "Whatever makes you think that I would find you unladylike?" Then his eyes widened and he said, "Oh, Leiset gave you a lecture on propriety, didn't she?" I nodded, and he pulled me into an embrace. "Aenna, my love, I've heard those same arguments of morality myself. Not from Leiset, of course, but Leiset is known for her disdain of men in general. Did she paint you a picture of how terribly vulgar it would be if you didn't keep control over your desires?"

"Something of that sort," I said.

He pulled back to look at me, his hands still on my shoulders. "Aenna, I want so much for you to be happy. I am delighted that you have been happy in our bed, and I want that to continue. Having said that, our frequency at the moment really is due to the fact that we were only just wed, and I know I'm still overexcited with everything still being so new." He winked and smiled roguishly, making me giggle. "If Leiset thinks that I have the stamina to make love with you all night and all day long, day in and day out for the rest of our lives, well, I'm flattered, but my love, I must admit that I shall likely drop dead if I try!"

Despite an effort to remain civil, I burst into laughter.

He continued, "Aenna, do you have the slightest idea how empty my mind is after we have made love? By the Temple itself, if I were to pounce upon you every time I had the whim, I'd not have enough mental capacity left to remember my name, let alone run a kingdom!"

I laughed so hard that tears rolled down my cheeks. He kept on with the silliness, making jokes about having swarms of children biting at his knees and becoming a wretchedly lustful old man. Finally I was laughing so much that I could scarcely breathe, so I croaked out between laughs for him to stop before I fainted away.

I sat on the ground, up against a tree, and closed my eyes so I could not see his roguish grin. Finally, the gales of laughter subsided, leaving me tired and with sore muscles but happy nonetheless.

Kurit sat beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned my tired head against his shoulder. "I am glad I decided to speak to you on this," I said.

"Do you mean to tell me that you considered not speaking to me on it?"

"Well, yes. I was a little nervous to air the issue," I admitted.

"Aenna, love," he said, kissing the top of my head, "you must never think that you cannot talk to me about anything. I know I tease you awfully and make you blush, but I am capable of behaving myself when you require that of me. Honestly, had you not started laughing at my first comments, I would not have spoken in jest thereafter. I would have been serious, if you had been upset."

"But, Kurit," I teased, "you take such delight in making me blush."

"Because you're so pretty when you turn pink and hide your face. You're like a little girl then, and I find it very endearing," he said, kissing my head again. "And I admit that it makes me feel powerful. Aenna, you command such power over me, though you probably aren't even aware of it. I tease you because it's the only way I can take some control back!"

I sat up and turned to look at him. "Kurit, it's one thing that I might delight in a bit of power in our love play, but I don't really wish to have control over you otherwise."

"Whether you wish it or not, you do. You're just the type of person who commands attention, Aenna. There's just something about you that makes people listen to you and abide by your words. Maybe it's because you're intelligent. But then, I've known intelligent people who lack any power whatsoever. No, there's something else about you. I don't know what it is," he said seriously. Then he smiled again and said, "But don't fret on that. It's a good thing. And it is probably one of the many reasons I desire you so."

He leaned to me and kissed me passionately. When the kiss was over, he declared, "Never think that I would condemn you for your passions. I share them. If others find it scandalous that we enjoy making love so very much, then let them think what they will. I care not. You have made me a very, very happy man. You are every man's dream and my reality. I would never disrespect you. I love you, my little klysh."

"Klysh?"

Kurit smiled roguishly again. "You don't know what that is? It's an old Kyran legend. Klyshes were feminine creatures that lurked in forests to entice men off the path. They'd kill the men with erotic pleasures and then devour their souls."

"Well, I certainly have no desire to kill you, Kurit," I said teasingly.

"I don't imagine that you do," he said. He kissed me deeply and then said, "But you certainly have devoured my soul!"

I feigned indignation until he laughingly apologized and kissed me again. Then my new husband leapt to his feet, helped me up to my own, and we continued our happy walk.

* * *

We made love again when we went to bed. It was a very warm summer's night, and we lay naked afterwards without so much as a sheet covering us. Kurit kept staring at my hip and tracing idle circles there with his fingertips. When I would speak to him, he would look at me, answer, and then go back to staring at my hip.

Finally I asked, "What is it? Is there a mark there?"

His reverie broken, he looked at me in confusion for a moment. "Hmm? Oh, no. It's perfect."

"Perfect?"

Kurit smiled at me lovingly and said, "You wouldn't understand. You'll think me a beast."

"I already do," I teased, tickling his tummy gently.

Kurit returned the tickle and then continued touching my hip.

"Tell me," I said softly.

He glanced up at my eyes again, then back to my hip. "This curve," he said, tracing his fingers from the top of my hip, down over it, and then around to my backside. "This curve drives me to madness for you."

I looked at him strangely, not understanding what he meant.

Looking at my questioning eyes, he chuckled and said, "See? I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"How can a curve drive you to madness?"

He put his warm palm on my hip and squeezed softly. "Well, that's the part wherein you shall undoubtedly tell me I'm a beast." He chuckled again. "In these last weeks, I would see you walking in the palace, and this curve, when you walk..." He sighed happily and closed his eyes for a moment. "When you walk, this curve moves. It's hard to explain. It's like a wave, not on the water, but an alluring, womanly wave instead.

"I would watch as you walked. Sometimes you would pass me in a corridor, but more often I would watch you from above the Great Hall. I would watch as you walked away from me, and I'd just watch your hips moving under your dress, and..." He sighed again. Then he looked at me with a rogue's eye and moaned, "Oh, Aenna, the thoughts in my head when I watched you walk..."

I smiled at him and teased, "Were they lustful thoughts?"

"Lustful? That greatly understates it. Aenna, it was all I could do to not chase after you, grab you, carry you to the closest bedchamber, and take you with a wild passion."

Kurit moved closer, pressing himself against me. He was aroused, as was I. I arched my back so that my breasts would be pushed against his chest. He kissed me, moving his mouth seductively, pushing his tongue between my lips.

Then he kissed my cheek and whispered, "Do you think me a beast?"

"Yes. And I like it," I whispered back.

Kurit folded his arms around me as we kissed again. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him.

"Do what you did earlier. I enjoyed the way you moved your perfect hips," he said with a light growl to his voice.

Happily, I complied with his wish, moving on him again with slow circles. This time he kept hold of my hips and used them as leverage to pull himself up into me. I was too tired to reach the same height of ecstasy I had before, so instead I endeavoured to drive him wild. I grinned, feeling quite powerful and proud, when I saw him clench his teeth and grunt in his climax.

He fell asleep very quickly afterwards, and I let the sound of his breathing lull me as well.

* * *

We set off one morning together with a blanket and picnic basket. I wore a simple dress that would not be ruined by sitting on the ground, and Kurit wore equally sturdy clothes.

We walked down to the lake, where Kurit spread the blanket out by the shore. He laid himself back upon it, staring lazily at the small clouds overhead, his arms folded behind his head. I joined him after tucking the picnic basket under the shade of a tree. I lay perpendicular to him, my head resting on his stomach. He kept his right arm under his head, but moved his left hand to hold mine. We stayed like that for a long time, talking idly, noticing shapes in the clouds.

Soon I grew bold enough to ask a question that I had considered for some time. "Kurit, were you ever intimate with another woman?"

"Aenna, don't ask that!"

"I don't mean to be rude, I'm just curious. And you said the other day that I should be free to speak to you on anything."

He sighed, my head riding along with it. "I'm not going to talk about that. You'll get jealous and upset, and I can't bear to see you that way."

"Do I have anything to be jealous about?"

He grumbled. "See? Already you're jealous, and no, you shouldn't be. You're the dearest thing in my life. I've told you many times that your beauty is unparalleled in my eyes. Let us talk of something else."

"What if I promise to not be upset?" I pressed on.

"Aenna," he groaned.

"Honestly, I want to know, and I won't be jealous unless you tell me you were with Sashken."

He pretended to scream and gag in horror and disgust, and we laughed. "How could you even suggest it? I think I shall be ill. Ugh. What a thought! I should rightly tickle you until you scream for that," he said, poking at my side threateningly.

"Don't you dare!" I wiggled myself so that I was angled away from him. "I'm just curious. I'm not asking because I feel threatened. You've done a splendid job in convincing me against that."

"Good. Very good, in fact. It bothered me when you kept telling me how unworthy you were."

"I still feel unworthy at times."

"That's understandable. I feel unworthy at times myself. I look at my father, and he's everything a King ought to be. And I am not like him at all, in attitude or behaviour. I have tried to be, but I simply am not. But I force myself to consider that I'm not a stupid man, nor am I foolhardy, even though I may act silly at times, and I've been educated and watched and learned, so I must conclude that I'll be able to handle the role. I can't bear to imagine myself failing. It's too frightening."

"You won't fail, Kurit. But you're changing the subject."

"Intentionally so."

"I want you to tell me if you were with other women before me."

"Why? Why do you need to hear such things?"

"I'm insatiably curious. Wouldn't you want to know in my place?"

He thought about that quietly for a moment and then replied, "I can't decide. It never occurred to me, because I knew you to be a maiden."

"Kurit, by your reluctance I can tell that you were with others. Tell me how many there were."

He sighed again, giving up any hope of stopping my questions. "Two. Only two."

"Who were they?"

"Aenna, really..."

"I want to know who charmed your heart."

"Nobody but you."

"That's sweet, Kurit, but they must have meant something to you."

"If I tell you, you'll become angry with me and tell me what a terrible cad I am."

"I promise to do no such thing."

He grumbled and said, "Well, the first one doesn't really count, because I don't remember much of it. I was just a boy. On the day to celebrate the start of my fifteenth year, Jarik and Cael got me quite drunk. Very drunk. Very, very, absolutely smashed drunk," he emphasized.

"I couldn't even stand. They took me somewhere, it wasn't an inn, it was somebody's home, I think. They dumped me in some room and left me there, and soon I realized there was a woman there, perhaps fifteen years my senior. She kissed me, and I was aroused by her but was unable to... ah, well, function, as it were, being so drunk. She took off her clothes, and all I remember was she had enormous breasts that she kept pushing in my face. She fondled me obscenely but I was too out of my head to stop her, and eventually she was able to arouse me enough to, well, take me herself.

"I don't even remember it other than her sitting on me and being almost suffocated in her bosom. I think I liked that. I must have, but I honestly don't recall what I thought or felt. I don't remember how or when we finished. The next thing I recalled was waking up in my bed with a ferocious headache, and my tongue felt like cloth. I don't even know who she was."

"Didn't you ask?"

"I wanted to, but I was too embarrassed. Cael would have teased me—he really is an awful scoundrel, you know. Kind, but a scoundrel through and through. And I was too ashamed to admit to Jarik that I didn't know who she was."

"I'm surprised he participated in such a thing," I said.

"Hah, well, there's a great deal about his past that would shock you."

"You're trying to change the subject. Tell me about the second one, then."

"Do I have to?"

"No, but I'd like you to."

"Fine. But when I'm done you'll think I'm just awful. I didn't even mean for it to happen. And ironically, it was Sashken's doing that led to it, but don't you even breathe the words to ask if it was her!" he groaned, poking my ribs in jest. "She wanted me then already, though I don't know if Mother had chosen her at that point. I was uninterested in her. I didn't hate her as I do now, for she wasn't as cold or nasty. She was just an unattractive little stick of a thing and didn't seem very bright. But she pursued me, bringing me little gifts, writing me little notes and slipping them under my door, all that sort of thing. I didn't want to be cruel to her, and when I asked Jarik's advice he only teased. So I thought perhaps if she thought I was in love with someone else, then she'd give up on me.

"So I chose the second prettiest girl in the palace. Second, because the prettiest girl had a wretchedly squeaky voice that made my jaw clench. I decided to court Keshella—"

"Lady Keshella who is wed to that merchant Sherston?"

"One and the same. You're not jealous, are you?"

"Hardly. She has the intellectual capacity of cheese."

He laughed so hard that I had to raise my head off his stomach before I was bounced around. "Cheese! Aenna, you have the strangest way of saying things!" He chuckled. I laid my head back down as he continued. "Yes, she wasn't particularly bright either, but you must admit she is pretty."

"Very. I'm not jealous, though."

"Good. You shouldn't be," he said sweetly, moving his hand to stroke my hair. "But I thought if I was to court someone, it may as well be someone I could enjoy looking at. So I brought her flowers, asked her to walk with me in the garden, and other things that Sashken would undoubtedly see. Well, to make the story short, one evening I saw Sashken following us in the garden, so I kissed Keshella very passionately. But still Sashken followed us, so I convinced Keshella to come up to the tower with me. It actually didn't take a great deal of convincing, and she led the way.

"We went up to the tower, and I waited to hear if we were followed, but it seemed Sashken had given up. I was going to leave when suddenly Keshella unlaced her dress and dropped it, standing there in just her corset. My eyes widened, and I stood stunned as she turned her back to me and asked me to unlace the corset. So I did. I don't know why, I just did. It came off, and she pulled off her other underclothes and stood naked before me. I still stood there like a fool, my jaw probably on the floor. She said, 'Don't you like what you see?' So I kissed her, because I couldn't think of anything suitable to say. After that it wasn't long before..." He trailed off, leaving the rest implied.

"The next day I avoided her. I felt awful for having taken her when I had absolutely no intention of ever wedding the poor girl. Mind you, I am fairly certain she was not a maiden when I took her. But still, I felt like an awful cad. I went to see her and overheard her telling the other girls what I had done, how she was to be Queen, and wasn't it all so exciting and other such nonsense. So I took her aside to speak with her and told her then and there that I didn't intend at all for her to be my Queen, rather insensitively, I admit. She struck me hard, slapping my face with the full palm of her hand. Then she spun and walked away. I was mortified. Jarik heard about it and thought it quite funny. I suppose now you'll think I'm a wretch for it."

"It doesn't sound to me as though you seduced her, Kurit."

"Still, I should have known better. I should have had the decency to refuse her."

"Perhaps. But I don't think you're awful for it. See, I told you I wouldn't get angry. I just wanted to make sure there isn't a lost desire in your mind somewhere."

He ran his finger softly down my cheek. "Hardly. I may have experienced some pleasure with her, but I never felt such burning desire until I knew you. I'll admit that if I had known other women of your curvaceous build, I might have known greater desires than I did. I was obsessed with the idea of making love with you from those first days."

I sighed happily. We lay there quietly together for some time until we were hungry enough for lunch. As we sorted through the basket he asked, "I want to ask you something, but I'm not sure how to word it without sounding awful."

"Go ahead and ask then, and I'll forgive you if you say something wrong by mistake," I said smiling.

"Hmm. I know you were a maiden, so don't think I'm questioning that or any such nonsense, but did you ever... What I want to know is, did you ever know a man that you longed for? Before you met me?"

I considered that for a moment but was able to quickly and confidently answer, "No. I admit I daydreamed about an unknown man in my future, but I never saw one that made me desirous. Most of the men I saw in the inn were tired and in need of a bath, if not drunk as well. I might have felt friendly towards some of the kinder, cleaner ones, but they were always either married or so far above my station that I didn't even entertain the thought."

"Of what did you daydream?" he asked.

"Oh, you don't want to know that. It's all so silly and girlish."

"I told you my stories. Now I want to hear yours," he insisted.

"I suppose that's only fair," I conceded. "I thought that perhaps one day a kind, intelligent young merchant would come by the inn, and I would know instantly that I loved him, and he would know he loved me but would be too gentlemanly to say it. We would look at each other longingly, but then he'd be gone, and I'd long for him alone. Then he'd return in a month or so and be bold enough that time to introduce himself, and we'd talk awhile. Then perhaps he'd return again and again, each time growing bolder, until finally he would ask me to be his wife, and I would of course say yes, and he'd take me away with him."

Kurit smiled at me. "That's not silly at all. It sounds very sweet."

"I suppose. It was a romantic notion. Never did I dream I'd overhear of a plot to kill a Prince, rush to warn him, end up falling in love with him and he with me and marrying him. That's the sort of thing that happens in bard's songs and old poems, not in real life."

He chuckled and moved closer to me. "Are you disappointed that you didn't meet your kind, young merchant?"

"Of course not. You know I love you."

"Well, then let the bards write a song for us, if it's so unreal," he said, caressing my cheek softly, his lunch all but forgotten. He pushed mine aside and moved closer still so he could kiss me. He pushed me gently to lie down, kissing my lips, my cheeks, my neck.

"Kurit," I said breathlessly as he kissed at my bosom, "Kurit, someone could come along and see us."

"And? The only ones who would do so are Leiset and Gilrin, and they both have the sense to be discreet and go away." He laid himself beside me and started caressing my leg, pushing my skirt up slowly. I acquiesced, secretly enthralled at the notion of making love outdoors in open daylight.

It was awkward and naughty and sensual and wonderful. I buried my face in his shoulder when I wanted to cry out, lest it echo over the lake. That would have been an embarrassment, even if no one had heard it!

Afterwards, he kissed my ear and whispered into it, "Don't ask again about any other woman. There is no one else for me but you."

* * *

The weeks passed quickly, no doubt because we were so happy. I missed my womanly cycle and thus assumed that I was with child. When I told Kurit that the time for it had passed several days before, he was ecstatic. He picked me up, spun me around, and then set me down and covered my whole face with sweet, happy little kisses as I laughed.

We knew it would be time to return home in a few days, so we decided to make the most of our remaining time at the cottage. We went for long, happy walks together, during which we would talk and tease, laugh and kiss. He would favour me often with that wonderful roguish smile, and I would sometimes recall how endearing it had been when we had first met. On more than one occasion, I felt a slight shiver to realize just how much had happened and changed in my life since I had met this wonderful man.

On the day before we were to leave, we went for one last long walk in the meadows. Kurit seemed a bit sad at the prospect of going back to the palace. I didn't know the specific cause, but between leaving the beautiful area around the cottage, returning to duties, and returning also to those who did not approve of our union, it was easy to understand his slight gloominess.

I decided to tease him in an effort to make him laugh again. I hurried my pace such that I ended up a few steps ahead of him. Then I moved my hands on my hips seductively and wiggled them in an exaggerated fashion. I glanced over my shoulder at him and said, "Tell me, husband, is it this that drives you mad with desire?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stop walking. I glanced at him again, still wiggling my hips. He was watching me, eyebrows raised, a faint rascal's smile upon his lips.

"Don't tempt me, Aenna," he warned in a playful tone. "I don't have the excuse of not being wed to you anymore to hold me back."

I continued walking slowly, swaying my hips for him. I turned my head to purr, "But we are rather far from a bedchamber, my love."

"That didn't stop us by the lake a few weeks ago," he said with a laugh. "If you keep teasing me in this manner, I cannot be held accountable for what I might do."

His challenge and thinly veiled threat enticed me to continue. I don't know that I actually thought through whether or not he would make good on his threat, but I didn't care either way, to be honest. I kept walking and swaying, glancing back at him every few steps.

All of a sudden, he bolted towards me. I squealed out a girlish scream and ran from him as fast as I could.

I probably could have outrun him, for he was not much of a sprinter, but of course, I didn't want to. Plus, it slowed me down to keep looking at him. He soon caught up to me, threw his arms around my waist, and slid himself to a stop.

He turned me around by my shoulders and kissed me hard on the mouth. He grunted like a beast as he moved his lips hungrily down my neck. My legs felt as water, and I left myself go limp in acquiescence in his arms. Much as I had loved straddling him at times and being in control, I found that I equally loved giving myself to him and letting him have his beastly way. In fact, I realized that I didn't care all that much about how the sensuality happened, only that it did, and often.

Kurit lowered me to the grass. He tugged at the laces at the front of my gown, opening it and then pulling down the underclothes. He put his face between my exposed breasts and growled playfully as he kissed them and nibbled them.

Soon he lifted his head from my bosom and took hold of my legs. Roughly, but without causing me pain or discomfort, he lifted them and pulled my underclothes from me, then pushed my skirts up to my waist.

Still on his knees, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers. In a flash, he grabbed my hips and lifted them to his kneeling lap. Continuing the rough play, he shoved himself into me. I loved it, and I made sure he knew it by virtue of my moans of delight. He took me like a true beast, grunting and growling and groping. He held my hips with one hand, a breast with the other, and moved in me with a fast fury.

I could not help but cry out in ecstasy as he took me so. It was so naughty, so uncouth. I felt a glorious freedom. It was not painful or savage, but it was scandalous and animalistic, and I felt wonderfully alive.

As I thought of how wanton we were, and as Kurit increased his fervent speed, I was overcome by a fierce pleasure that was very different from all other climaxes I had known. I lost touch with reality for a moment and was brought back only by Kurit's loud exclamation of delight.

He fell to the ground beside me, panting and exhausted. We lay there for some time, our clothes still half off, just catching our breath. Then Kurit rolled himself to me and gently stroked my cheek. I smiled at him, and he smiled back a bit sheepishly. I suspected he felt a little guilty for having been so rough. I promised myself to tell him later how much I had enjoyed it, just in case he couldn't tell.

To ease him in the moment, however, I simply whispered, "I love you."

His whole face lit up with delight. He closed his eyes for a moment and touched his forehead to mine. His hand wandered to my belly, where we knew our child to be growing, and he caressed me there. Then he put it back to my cheek, opened his eyes, and said, "You are my everything."

He kissed me tenderly for some time. Then he moved onto me and made love with me again there in the field, but this time it was slow, sweet, and passionate, as though he was proving to me that his love and gentle adoration had not wavered, even in his animal lust.

* * *

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when we left the cottage the next day. It was very hot and humid, so I chose to wear a lightweight dress with short sleeves and not very many layers of underskirts. Kurit wore simple light trousers and a laced shirt, looking like an average merchant or the like.

"Too casual?" he asked when he caught me staring at him. "I can change into more appropriate clothing at home."

"I know," I said, still admiring him. "I like it. It's not very Princely at all."

He smiled and slipped his arms around my waist. "Not regal enough for you?"

"I don't need you to be regal. Sometimes I'm happy to think of you as just a man." I clasped my hands behind his neck and fiddled with his hair.

"Oh, I'm more than just a man. I'm your happy husband," he said and then kissed me. "I like your dress, you know."

"It's not fancy either, though."

"I know," he said. "That's why I like it. It's clean and pretty and ladylike but simple. Like you were when I first saw you, except for the clean part of course." He laughed and then kissed me again. After the kiss I put my head on his shoulder and let him hold me. "I know it infuriated you, and I understand why, but when I told you in Mikilrun that I'd give up the crown for you, I meant it. Don't be angry, but I still would."

"Kurit—"

"Hush, I know. I have a duty. And I'm not going to dismiss that. I don't have to—you married me anyway!" He chuckled softly. I loved the sound of his laughter when my head was on his shoulder or chest. "But honestly, Aenna, I could have been very happy learning any trade or skill instead, if I had had to. Seeing you now like this, so beautiful in a dress that would make another woman look plain, I know in my heart I don't need all the luxury of the palace. I need only you."

He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me softly but for a long time, stopping only when we heard Leiset interrupt us with a polite cough.

I looked over his shoulder to her and caught her reproachful yet slightly amused look.

"Dear husband, it would seem that I have offended my maidservant by letting you kiss me so boldly out here in the public view," I postured.

Kurit turned briefly to Leiset and then back to me with a beastly grin. "Dear wife," he replied in a similar tone, "it would seem your poor maidservant is jealous because she has not been kissed so in such a very long time." He peeked at Leiset again and saw her annoyed look, though again she was having trouble not smiling at the roguish Prince.

He turned back to me with a silly grin and said, "I'm going to get a sound beating from her for that one, aren't I?"

"Certainly Your Highness knows that I would never overstep my station to ever accost your noble self," Leiset said, mocking our previous sarcastic tone as she stepped towards me. She took my arm and started to pull me away. "Not when it's entirely more effective to simply lead my Lady Highness elsewhere." She started to leave, pulling me behind her, but Kurit held onto my other arm and kept me where I was.

"Nobody takes my wife from me unless she goes of her own accord, Leiset," he said, still smiling but with a very light edge to his voice.

Leiset released my arm, curtsied and said, "Of course, Your Highness. My apologies." Then she walked away from us towards the carriage that would carry her and Gilrin back to the palace.

"You shouldn't have scolded her," I said. "She's only trying to protect my reputation."

"I know. Sorry. I just don't like the idea of anyone telling me I can't be with you. It's bad enough that I have to hear it from my mother."

"Ah, that explains it then. Kurit, Leiset is hardly trying to keep us apart. And you did tease her. Rather rudely, actually. She's a proper lady, much more so than I."

"You're right, I was rude. Why don't you go to our carriage? I'll go apologize to her and meet you there in a moment." He dropped a quick kiss on my cheek and added, "But you are a proper lady, and stop saying otherwise, or I shall tickle you until you scream in a very improper fashion."

I lightly smacked his arm as he ran off.

When he joined me in our carriage, he said Leiset had left because she thought she'd offended him, speaking so boldly as a maidservant to the Prince. He said that he had reassured her that it was all just silly teasing and everything was well again.

We sat across from each other and talked for the first half of the trip, but after the brief pause half way home to stretch our legs outside, he took the place beside me and put his arms around me. We kissed and spoke silly words of love for some time.

"Do you think it would be inappropriate if we were to disappear into my bedchambers for a while as soon as we're back?" he asked after a particularly long kiss.

I laughed softly. "Undoubtedly."

"That's hardly fair. They send us away to make a child and then expect us to behave ourselves when we come home." He put his hand over my waist and rubbed me gently. "I cannot imagine that there is a child in there. I cannot imagine that in a few months I shall be a father. What a ridiculous notion!"

"Why is it ridiculous?"

"Aenna, really," he said with an odd smile on his face. "Look at me. I'm a beastly brat myself. My father, now there's a man who knows how to be a father. He's stately and full of great words of wisdom and guidance. What have I to teach a child? How to make their mother blush? That's my greatest skill, you know." He winked at me playfully, and I laughed.

"You'll be a fine father. You're a good man, Kurit. And I'm sure your father couldn't imagine himself having a son all those years ago anymore than you can now."

"Can you imagine yourself as a mother? I can. I can see you now with a baby in your arms. You're lucky. You have nothing to be nervous about."

I looked at him in surprise. "Are you mad? Nothing to be nervous about? I'm common rabble, and yet I'll be expected to raise the heir to the throne!"

Kurit's face became serious. "Stop saying those things. You're my Princess now. There's nothing common about you." He kissed me again, kindly at first, but as usual it became very passionate. I lightly bit his lower lip, which I had learned made him gasp in delight.

"Don't arouse me if we can't make love on our return. I'll go mad waiting for the night," he whispered. I ignored his words and kept doing things that I knew made him wild. "Aenna, if you don't stop, I'll kiss you on that spot on your neck that makes you lose control, and then I'll take you right here in this coach."

"You're bluffing," I said. "There is no such spot."

"Oh, is that so?" he asked. He lowered his head to my neck and quickly proved me wrong by nibbling along the curve between the neck and shoulder on the right side. I tried not to moan in soft delight, but I could not prevent the sound.

"See?" he whispered between nibbles and kisses. "And now I'm going to be as beastly as ever and make love with you right here and now." He lifted me up and set me on the opposite bench, kneeling one on knee on the floor between. Still kissing my neck and chest, he pushed his hands slowly up my legs, lifting my skirt to my hips.

"Kurit," I said breathlessly.

"You're going to stop me, aren't you?" he sighed in disappointment, looking up at me.

I shook my head. "No. But at least have the decency to pull down the shades. There are mounted guards on all sides."

He smiled a wicked grin and did so quickly. "I love you, my little klysh," he said and continued his kissing, caressing my legs. He rose back up to the bench across from me, lifting my legs with him. He tugged on my underclothes from their lowest point at my knees until they slid out from under me and he could remove them completely. Then he knelt again to resume his kisses, putting his hand on the aroused flesh between my naked legs, making me cry out for him.

"Hush," he said softly. "The coachman shall hear us. We have to be quiet naughty people, or he'll stop to make sure we're all right." He touched me again, moving his fingers in slow circles on me, then pushing between the soft folds to tease the tender spot near the top. I clenched my teeth to prevent myself from making noise.

Still kneeling, he used his free hand to unclasp his trousers and push them down below his hips. He rose, putting his hands on the bench on either side of me. He leaned forward to enter me, but the angle was wrong and we kept having to shift around.

Finally he said, "This isn't working. Here, I have another idea." He sat on the other bench and pulled me towards him. He positioned himself at the very edge of the bench, leaning back to rest only his head and shoulders on the wall behind him.

With his arms clasped around my waist for balance, I was able to kneel on the bench over him and position myself so he was inside me. He pushed himself up, moaning my name happily. When he found I was too high up for him to kiss me, he left one arm around me for balance and used the other to unbutton the front of my dress. He did so far enough to gain access to my breasts, which he happily put his face between. Then he replaced his arm around me.

I could not move well without slipping, so he let the steady rocking of the carriage help him to move in me. Because that tender spot was pressed hard against him and because what we were doing was so lustful and scandalous, I began to reach the point of ecstasy right away. When finally I bit down on my lower lip to prevent my cries of pleasure, the intensity of it was such that I almost fell off him. Only his locked embrace kept me there as my mind reeled.

When I regained self-control, I looked at him, not even knowing if he had finished as well. By the happy, tired look on his face, I realized he had. He opened his eyes and smiled at me wickedly.

He helped me remove myself from the kneeling position without falling, and we redressed ourselves in a ridiculous, awkward fashion. I asked if I was a mess, knowing Leiset would suspect me if I was, but he said no one would be able to tell what he had been up to.

"But I'll know," he said as I sat beside him and he put his arms around me. "And when you're an old, white-haired lady I shall tease you about it," he laughed.

"Go ahead," I replied in a sensual tone. "And I shall challenge you then to take me out in a coach and repeat the act."

He laughed loudly at my bold words, kissing my cheek and clutching me to him. "Aenna, you're an absolute delight!"

* * *

We returned home to a kind welcome, minus the Queen, of course. I didn't mind her absence, given that Kurit was always happier when she wasn't there glaring at me. The King kissed my cheek and smiled at me and then solidly embraced his son.

Jarik positively beamed when he saw us and took my hand for a decorous kiss. "Now I get to begin my role and watch over you every minute," he said.

"You make it sound so arduous," I replied.

"Not at all. Every man should be so fortunate to watch over such a lovely Princess," he said, bowing and kissing my hand again. I laughed, and he flashed a handsome smile at me. Then he rose and looked at Kurit. "You have been a gentleman, I trust?" he asked, and I suspected he was only half teasing.

Kurit held his hands in the air as an innocent protest. "I have treated my wife with respect and kindness, cousin. I require no thrashing for my behaviour. Do I, Aenna?"

I laughed again. "Not at all. Jarik, he was an absolute dear." I took each of their hands and headed to the parlour. "Come, I want to hear all the gossip we've missed, and we shall tell you about our adventurous trip to the cottage."

"Yes, I heard there was a problem with the coach," Jarik said as we three went happily to talk.

That was the beginning of the most perfect time of my life. Kurit, Jarik, and I spent a great deal of time together, talking, teasing, and laughing. They taught me various games of strategy, some using ornately carved stones on wooden boards. The only time I was not with one or both of them was during my ongoing studies, which I also loved. I spent hours in the library, devouring every book I could get my hands on.

My nights were spent in Kurit's arms, or at least by his side. We made love frequently, breaking the habit only when I began to grow too big to do so comfortably. I found myself quite addicted to lovemaking, to be honest.

They were not carefree days, but my concerns were light and my troubles few and unimportant. Leiset was a dear and doted on me. In fact, she, Kurit, and Jarik began a silly competition of caring for me, each trying to outdo the others. It was embarrassing, but I couldn't have been happier.

Those days were bliss. They were truly fantastic.

And then it all fell apart in the space of a single evening.

### Chapter 11

I SAT IN MY receiving room with Leiset one cold and blustery night towards winter's end. I had been pregnant for not quite eight months, and my large belly made sleeping uncomfortable. I stayed up late most nights just to avoid having to lie in my bed.

Kurit still shared my bed most nights, though he often asked if I'd be better off trying to be comfortable alone. I might have been, but the dear man was so good to me when he was beside me. He rubbed my aching lower back and swollen ankles. He fretted over me constantly, and I admit I enjoyed the kind attention. Sometimes he lay beside me with his hands or his head pressed to my belly, hoping to catch a sound or a movement. His enthusiasm usually helped to dissipate any grouchiness I felt as a result of the physical discomfort.

But that night, he and Jarik were sitting in on an informal Council meeting that was a prelude to the upcoming semi-annual one. So there I sat, wishing the meeting would end soon so he would come to me but holding little hope that it would.

I grew restless and fidgety. "I wish I had gone to the meeting." I sighed.

"Aenna, Kurit wouldn't have been able to pay attention to the speakers if you were there, sitting uncomfortably in the hard-backed chair," Leiset said.

"I know. That's why I said I'd stay here when he invited me. I just don't like feeling uninformed."

"He promised to brief you tomorrow. You don't look very well. Shall I fetch you some tea?" she offered.

I was about to refuse when a knock came at the door. She rose to open it.

"Good evening to you, Leiset," I heard a voice say behind the door. "Lady Sashken's maidservant Eyill has requested your assistance in the library."

"Whatever for?" Leiset asked, annoyed. The door had swung open far enough that I could see the current hall guard who was delivering the request.

"Forgive me, she did not say. She said only that it was urgent," he said.

Leiset looked at me and rolled her eyes. "This makes no sense."

"Go ahead," I said. "She must have a reason, and there's really no point in causing a fuss over it. I'll be fine here."

"I shall be back soon, then," she said, closing the door behind her as she left.

So there I sat alone, grumbling to myself about how everyone told me I looked so radiant when what I truly felt like was an overstuffed bag of skin. Another knock soon came to the door. Instead of rising, I just shouted, "Come in! It is unlocked."

The door opened slowly to reveal the timid maid Melly, clutching a sealed letter in her hands. "Forgive my disturbance, Your Highness," she said softly, curtsying repeatedly, as was her wont.

I tried to look pleasant for the poor thing. "That's fine, Melly. What do you have there?"

She looked at the note in alarm and said, "I just found it now, in the kitchen. Your Highness, I don't know why it was there. I can't imagine why!"

I reached out my hand for it. "Don't worry Melly, it's all right. Just give me the letter."

She hurriedly brought it to me, apologized again, curtsied again, and scampered away.

It was a folded and sealed piece of paper with the words "Deliver Immediately to Princess Aenna" on one side, in unfamiliar handwriting. I cracked the seal and read the note.

"Your Highness," it read, "His Highness Prince Kurit graciously requests that you meet him as soon as you are able in the courtyard." That was all. There was no signature nor other indication the author of the note, though I knew it was not Kurit's handwriting at all.

I puzzled at the strange request and then thought perhaps Kurit was up to some silly surprise or game. Perhaps he had some gift for me in the courtyard, though that would be a strange place to give a gift to a woman with child on a cold, windy night. I had no notion as to how long the note had remained undelivered in the kitchen, but the idea that the poor man might have been waiting out in the cold for me for some time prompted me to hurriedly rise and fetch a cloak.

As I went out the door with the note in hand, I pondered leaving another note for Leiset but was reluctant to keep poor Kurit waiting alone outside any longer. Instead, I told the hall guard that I was going to find Kurit and asked him to tell Leiset when she returned, so she would not worry. He nodded pleasantly, and I hurried downstairs.

I spoke with a guard by the main doors briefly, only to learn that he had not seen Kurit go outside nor come in. I fretted that he had been out there for a long time and quickly went out.

There was not a great deal of snow on the ground, as we had been fortunate enough to have had a mild winter so far. There were, however, small drifts about the shadowy areas, and the whipping wind gathered bits of ice from them to be tossed into my face, making it difficult to see. I pulled the cloak around me and looked for Kurit, but the ice-wind and sudden darkness after being in the well-lit palace conspired to blind me.

I stumbled down the steps towards the gate when I heard a voice that I did not recognize call my name softly. I turned to the sound, which came from the south, in the poorly lit end of the courtyard by the smokehouse. I could see no one there, so I called out, "Kurit?" but there was no response.

A dreadful apprehension seized me as I walked towards the sound. This was unlike Kurit, and if he thought he was being amusing he was sorely mistaken. I tugged my cloak tightly around me and shivered as I stepped foolishly towards the dark corner.

Just as I realized that I could make out figures standing in the dark, one of them lunged at me and clamped a hard hand over my mouth. I tried to scream through it, but the stranger's hold was unyielding. A second man joined him and grabbed my legs. I kicked hard, managing to land a blow to his chin, but he overpowered me quickly. A third figure stepped out from behind the cart in the shadows. My eyes widened in alarm as I recognized Sashken's face peering at me out of her hooded wrap.

I struggled anew, terrified, knowing full well that her presence meant something horrible was about to happen to me. But the men were very large and strong, and my flailing accomplished little. I tried desperately to make noise, to knock against something, to scream out. There had to have been guards on the wall above us, and I fought to alert them.

Sashken muttered, "That's enough of that," and whacked my head soundly with something very hard, making me lose consciousness instantly.

When I came around, I found myself bound, gagged, and enclosed in what I panicked to think might be a coffin. I struggled but could neither break my bonds nor loosen them at all. I heard muttering voices above me and recognized one to be Sashken's. I decided to hold still for the moment to hear as much as I could.

"This is very important," she instructed them in harsh whispers that I prayed would be heard by the guards. "I don't want her found for some time, if at all. Take her far from Endren before you kill her, and hurry. Once they find her note, the Prince will ride after her to convince her to come back home. You have to be far from Endren when he starts looking. I want no chance of him finding her. Do you understand?"

Then the box I was in started moving, and I realized I was hidden in a smuggler's compartment below the cart. I wiggled about in an effort to make a thumping noise, hoping, praying that someone would hear and rescue me. I screamed into my gag. I screamed and cried and screamed again, but even I could tell that the sound of the horse and wheels on the stone roads was louder than any noise I could make.

When I had screamed myself hoarse, I lay in the box weeping pathetically. I called out to Kurit in my mind, knowing that he could not hear it. I envisioned him finding that I was gone, when he had spent so much time before our wedding worrying that I would run away. The thought that Sashken was planting a note for him to make him believe I had left willingly made me scream out again—a raw, tortured sound that crawled from my torn throat.

Then a glimmer of hope came to me as I thought, Jarik, my dear Champion—he will have a level head. He will know that I wouldn't have left willingly, not eight months with child! Not when I've been so obviously happy! He will have the entire King's Guard and every other available man searching for me immediately!

I stopped crying. I realized the guards at the gate would remember a cart leaving in such a hurry so late at night, undoubtedly only minutes before the gate was to be locked. Once that was reported back to those who searched, they'd know the direction to follow. Perhaps there was even sufficient snow outside the city for tracks to be followed.

I forced myself to be calm. They'll find me, I convinced myself. Jarik will find me. Kurit will find me. They will overtake this cart before these horrible men can harm me. And when they take me out to do the deed, if I have not yet been found, I'll kick and bite and struggle and claw until I can run away. Please find me, Jarik, Kurit, please, I thought to them.

But the cart did not stop. I heard no thunder of hooves, no frantic cries of men searching, no commands to halt. Then my heart sank and my fear returned with full force as I realized Kurit and Jarik were in the Council meeting, which could last long into the night. Furthermore, I had told the guard to tell Leiset I was fine. If the note Sashken spoke of was delivered to Kurit's door directly, no one would realize I was gone for some time.

I began trying to escape, frantically feeling around the compartment for a protruding nail, a splintered board, anything sharp against which I could rub my bonds to tear them. I found nothing, and began instead kicking the boards, but the awkward movement cramped my pregnant belly, and I felt I would be sick. I knew if I was sick with a gag in my mouth I would choke, so I forced myself to be still until the feeling passed.

So I lay there in dread, fearing the worst, unable to save myself. I wept quietly, more for my poor Kurit than myself. Losing a wife and unborn child in one evening would be hard on any good man, but Kurit was so protective of me that this was sure to destroy him. All the times he had lovingly told me how he could not live without me flooded my mind, and I began to sob for him. And Jarik, poor, good, strong Jarik, my Champion—he would feel such guilt for this. Then there was Leiset—she would be so distraught! She would undoubtedly blame herself for leaving me alone.

My heart ached for my loved ones. I hated myself for being unable to escape for them. I wept pathetically, caged in a small box, while the cart sped along through the night.

Eventually, I became numb inside. Knowing that I was about to die, feeling such loss for my unborn child, such agony for those who loved me—it all became too much, and something in me became detached. The only feeling of which I was really aware as the hours passed was a desperate need to urinate. As night became day, I was finally unable to hold it. My wet clothes soon became cold and stiff, but still I was numb. More so, in fact, for the depression of having soiled myself.

Still, the cart went on. I began to drift to sleep, exhausted, numb, and rocked continually in my little box. I know it sounds implausible, to sleep whilst being abducted and on the way to one's death, but somehow I did.

I woke when the cart stopped. A seizing fear clamped my chest, and I immediately began to struggle again. I knew it was night once more, for no light peeked through the boards of the cart. I prayed that we had stopped because I had been found missing and a searcher had caught up to the cart.

The lid of the box that held me was removed. I saw four men, two of whom were my abductors, the other two unknown to me. They lifted me out of the cart, and immediately I began to struggle and kick at them.

"Hold it there, wild thing," one of the other two said with a laugh.

"Keep it down, or we'll change our minds and kill you after all," one of my abductors said. His implication that they did not intend to murder me halted my struggling. I clung to the fervent hope that these men would betray Sashken and were, in fact, turning me over to someone who would take me home.

"There now," said the second new man, "that's a good girl. Let's just see what you've got to offer then." He approached where I stood, my bound arms held tightly by one abductor and the other new man. He lifted my chin and examined my face and hair in a very odd manner.

"We have no use for one with child," said the new man who held me.

"She's a pretty thing, though. Look at these," he said as he grabbed at my breasts. I struggled again in outrage, trying to wriggle myself from their grasp. "And spirited too. Wonderful hair, reddish even in this thin light, down to the backs of her knees. That's usually popular." The brute turned to my abductors and said, "Two hundred."

"She'll be sought after, you fool! We've had to travel without rest and sweep our tracks as we went! Six hundred, not a coin less!"

I'm being sold! I realized indignantly. The wretched pigs are selling me!

"Come now," said one of the buying men. "She's pretty, but we'll get a lower price what with the child and all. She won't be any good to them for months! Plus if you're as likely to have been followed as you say, that makes it more dangerous for us until we cross the border. Three hundred."

They continued to haggle as though I were a used kitchen pot. I was outraged but then realized that, given the choice between being sold and being killed, being sold was better. At least that gave me more time to escape.

They settled finally on a price of four hundred fifty gold and that the sellers could take my gold necklace as well. I wept but allowed the men who bought me to take me to their caravan. They were gentler than the other two, putting me on a pile of clothing to be traded instead of in a wooden box. I continued to cry quietly nonetheless, wondering how any man could participate in such a brutish exchange.

We started moving, one of them out driving the caravan, the other sitting inside it with me, watching me to ensure I didn't attempt to escape. I looked at him with eyes full of sad disgust. He was clearly uncomfortable under my stare, and I found myself hoping I could convince him to release me, despite the enormous sum that he and his partner had paid.

Eventually he spoke. "If you think you can behave, I'll take off your gag and give you something to eat. But I warn you, if you make me regret my choice you'll go hungry and thirsty the whole way."

I nodded, and he leaned forward to gently remove my gag. I coughed and stretched my aching jaw. "How can you do this?" I whispered.

"Nothing personal, pretty girl. Just business," he said as he put a piece of fruit in my hands. Hungry, I devoured it quickly, weeping quietly as I ate. When I finished, he took the core away and discarded it.

Looking at him pleadingly, I asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"No. Don't care, either. Whoever you were doesn't matter any more. Better get used to that."

"What if I told you my husband, Prince Kurit, will no doubt be searching for me with all of the King's Guard behind him?"

His eyes widened in shock. He rose quickly and pounded on the front wall of the caravan. It came to a stop, and the other man soon opened the back doors.

"What is it?" he shouted.

"She says her husband is the Prince of Keshaerlan!"

The other man sneered at me. "Sure he is. And I'm the High Abbott of Maellorn. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Highness."

His attitude enraged me. "Feel free to doubt my words, but I assure you, my Kurit must already be frantically searching for me, and my Champion Jarik as well. They'll have every King's Guard, every soldier, and every Lord looking for me. I'm carrying the heir to the throne of Keshaerlan in my womb! A fiendish woman of the court had me abducted and ordered me killed because she yearns foolishly to steal my husband from me.

"Now, you have the opportunity to win the everlasting favour of the royal family and every Lord under them. I suspect we must be in or close to Alesha. Take me to Lord Cael. You will be handsomely rewarded what you paid for me many times over if I am taken safely there. I promise you that."

The one in the caravan was convinced, that I could tell for certain. But the one who stood outside clearly thought I was telling a desperate tale to save myself. He laughed at me and closed the doors.

I leaned my head back on the wall of the caravan and wept. The man with me looked very worried, so I tried to exploit that. "I'm telling the truth. Please, if he won't listen, you can still save me. If not for me, please, I beg for my husband and child's sake. My poor Kurit, he'll be mad with fear for me. He's probably on his horse right now, searching frantically. Please take me home to him."

The man clamped his hands over his ears to shut out my words. "Enough," he grumbled. "I can't help you."

My options exhausted, I wept quietly until the caravan stopped again some time later. The other man came around back and opened the doors.

"I'm taking her to relieve herself before she stinks up the merchandise," he said, dragging me out of the caravan. He tied a rope to my arm bonds and turned his back to me. How humbling it was, to squat in open land and do what I had to do. But it was better than soiling myself again, and I was glad to be spared that. I suppose I should have also been thankful that he neither watched me nor held my arms, but it was rather difficult to be thankful of anything at the time.

I was loaded back in the caravan, and we were off again. The numbing depression returned, and I sat in half-conscious misery until we reached our destination the next day.

I was unloaded roughly from the caravan into the bright light of mid-day. I squinted against the glare and heard a man with a strange, purring accent say, "Careful now. If you damage her, I won't take her." I had never seen a Wusul before, but I had heard enough stories as a child to recognize him to be one. His clothes were very odd, made more from skins than cloth and dotted with metal studs on the shoulders. He looked normal enough, but the short crop of yellowish hair was the obvious confirmation. All Wusuls were said to have this strange colour of hair.

"Don't think I'm going to pay you for the child," he said to the men who had brought me there. "I have no use for the child. The girl is pretty enough, though. Ran Kei-Galu likes the flame-haired ones well."

"Which is why we brought her here instead of to Ran Kei-Mosun," the one who had driven the caravan replied.

In my depressed, vaguely aware state, I realized I was being sold, likely as a concubine, to some Wusul lord. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks, but I was too weak and tired to even try to wrestle myself away. Not that I could have gone far with my legs still bound and many spear-armed Wusul guards gathered about to gawk.

"Good, then," said the Wusul man. He called to some guards and ordered them to take me to a cell. "We'll keep her down there until she bears the child. We'll dispose of it quickly. and she can begin service to the Ran." The guards started to drag me away, but having heard that the barbarian intended to kill my child upon its birth, my energy returned and I struggled against them, screaming.

"You can't do this! I am the wife of the heir to the Keshaerlan throne! If you kill his child I swear to you he'll bring the wrath of the King's army upon you," I growled, but still the guards took me away.

"Is she serious or is she crazed?" the Wusul asked.

"Temporarily crazed by the travel, I assure you," I heard the wretched fiend who had sold me reply. "We bought her from a pair of vagabonds. No Princess would be outside her palace without a mad chase of guards behind her. Now, shall we say a thousand, then? Quite the bargain for that little beauty..." I was dragged inside and heard no more of what they said.

I was freed of my bonds and dumped in a straw-lined room of stone, the entrance wall made of thick metal bars. I cried out repeated threats of war, of armies that would seek me, but nobody listened, so I soon gave up.

A short time later, a woman with that same odd hair wrapped strangely in rolls at the sides of her head came to see me. She had the most bizarre form—a large bosom and equally large hips, but her waist in the middle was squeezed so tightly that I wondered how she lived. I imagined a man of Jarik's size could almost put his hands entirely around her waist at its narrowest point.

The thought of my good Jarik tore at my heart. I wondered if he was furious and calling for me or perhaps cold and dark, brooding remorsefully as he searched.

My thoughts of him were banished quickly as the woman began to speak in that same purring accent. "I am Ras Mei-Risha-Galu. You shall call me Ras Risha. In your land, that would be equivalent to Lady Risha. I am the sister of Ran Kei-Galu, your new Lord, as you would think of him. I am in charge of his concubines, of which you shall be one. It is a high honour to be a concubine to a Ran. If you behave as is fitting, you shall live comfortably in the Ran's graces. If you are foolish, you will be branded and sent to work as a scullery slave, if not executed. Do you understand me?"

"I carry the heir to the throne of Keshaerlan. If you make me your slave and kill my child—"

"So I've heard you claim. I care not," she said without emotion. "You are now San-Galu, which means 'servant of Ran Kei-Galu'. If you enter his graces, he may one day grant you a name of your own. Meals will be brought to you here in your cell for now. Once you have birthed your child and it is disposed of, you will be allowed to reside in the lower halls with the other concubines." Her message delivered, she took her leave.

I put my hands protectively over my belly. Silently, I promised my unborn son or daughter that I would protect them, that somehow I would prevent them from being killed in their first innocent breaths.

After the sun had set, which I could see through a tiny window at the top of the cell, a guard with a full tray of food came down the stairs that led to the cells. He opened the door to put it on the floor and sat to watch me eat. I ate everything that was offered, not even tasting it.

I saw that the guard looked at me with lust in his eye. Quickly, I devised a plan of escape. My mind reeled with a thousand reasons why the plan would fail and I would end up dead. I didn't care. I had to try, for the sake of my child.

Yes, for my child, I told myself. I repeated it over and over in my head: For my child. For you, my unborn child.

I forced a lascivious smile onto my face, and gazed towards the guard. Catching his attention, I murmured, "Are all Wusul men as handsome as yourself?"

He laughed. "If you think you can flatter me into getting my keys, you're mistaken, girl!"

Curse it, I thought. Don't be so flagrant, or he'll suspect you.

"I'm not so stupid as to consider the idea. I'm just curious if this Ran of which I've heard is as handsome. It might not be such a terrible thing to serve a handsome man." Smiling as prettily as I could, I ran my fingers through my hair to tease him. Oh, how his eyes lit up at that; I realized these yellow-haired men liked the red Aleshan locks. I fiddled with the messy mop, dividing it roughly in half along the back, braiding one side slowly, then the other, as I smiled at him.

He moved himself in his seat, and I knew I had aroused him. Careful now, I coached myself. Don't make him suspicious. And don't show revulsion. This is for the child, my child, my innocent child.

I rose to my feet with as much grace as I could muster in my condition and walked to the bars. I wrapped my hands around them, and moved one finger up and down along the bar that I held in my right hand. "You see," I said in a voice faking both sweetness and lust, "the truth is I am very poor. I have no means to support this child, and the father denies it is his. I'm a lowly barmaid, and my work has been hard and unpleasant. But if this Ran of yours is a handsome man and if Ras Risha speaks the truth, that good behaviour is rewarded, well then," I giggled, "I'm willing to earn their graces, as it were."

"I thought you were claiming to be the wife of the High Ran of Keshaerlan, or some such thing," he said in suspicion, but still hanging on my every word.

I waved my hand to dismiss the notion. "That was a foolish lie. I feared I was to be thrown into your kitchens as a drudge! But since Ras Risha explained to me that I have the opportunity to live better than I quite honestly ever have before, I will admit that it was a lie."

"You're a smart thing, for a Keshaerlan brat," he chided, leaning forward in his seat.

"I'm not stupid enough to waste an opportunity, if that's what you mean." I knew I had to lure him closer. Though the thought revolted me, I forced myself to remember my child. "Tell me, do the Wusul kiss as well as Keshaerlans?"

He laughed again. "Keshaerlan men are as boys, playing with blades without skill. If they kiss as poorly as they defend themselves, then, pretty thing, they're no match to us."

"Really?" I said with mock incredulity. "I've kissed many Keshaerlan men, and found it to be delightful every time. How do you think I ended up with this?" I said, pointing to my belly.

"Keshaerlan dogs have endowments the size of twigs. You will know true satisfaction at the whim of the Ran," he said as he stared at my chest.

Fortunately, I had been wearing a front-laced gown when I was snatched away from my home. Swallowing my revulsion, I slowly unlaced the top and pulled the material aside, leaving only the thin undergarment covering my breasts. I loosened the drawstring at the neck and pulled the undergarment down, exposing my breasts fully to him as his eyes widened in delight.

"And tell me, handsome man, do Wusul women possess charms such as these?"

He rose from his seat and walked towards me. "If you think I'll open the door for you, you're wrong."

"I expect no such thing. Your Ran would have your head for it. I just want to learn your ways as soon as I can. I'm very ambitious. If I am to be the Ran's concubine, I want to be his favourite." I leaned forward against the bars so my breasts hung outside the cell.

Smiling in arousal, the wretched guard put his hands on me, and I pretended to enjoy it. I let my head fall back and sighed happily as if he were giving me great pleasure, when in my heart and mind I was horrified at my own actions. For my child, I reminded myself. To save my child's life.

I slipped my hands through the bars and danced my fingers up his arms to entice him further. "If you're so sure that Keshaerlan men are poor kissers, why don't you show me how well I'll have it in Wusul?"

He leaned close as he groped my breasts, and I put my face between the bars to let him kiss me. Instead of paying attention to the quality or lack thereof in his kiss, I clasped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me. He made a soft moan of pleasure, and I knew my plan was working. I kissed him as though I desired him greatly. At the same time, I slowly collected my long braids, first one, then the other, and wrapped my hair around his shoulders.

I leaned back slightly in the cell, just enough to entice him forward. Gradually, I exchanged the braids in my hands behind his neck, bringing the ends down across his shoulders and letting them hang there as I caressed his chest. He didn't even notice as I crossed the ends of the braids again, forming two loops of my braided hair around his throat.

In one sudden move I yanked on my hair, cutting off his breath without notice. He tried to move back in alarm, but I had the ends of my hair wound between my fingers for a better grip. I pulled tighter as his hands left my breasts to beat at the bars in an attempt to push himself away. I leaned my body back and head forward so he could not easily grab my chest again, but instead he tried to reach though the bars to grab at my own throat, a look of furious horror on his face as he sputtered and gasped.

By then, though, he was flailing so wildly that he could not manage to get both hands through the right bars to access my neck. He managed to get one through by my cheek, which he clawed frantically as his face turned purple. If he had had any appreciable length of fingernails, I'd likely be scarred to this day, but fortunately all he managed to do was bruise me slightly.

I thought of them taking my child away. I imagined them carrying away the crying infant to go and destroy it. I became enraged and pulled my hair tighter, almost losing the grip on one side. I could feel some hairs break as others dug into my fingers. "No one shall harm my baby!" I spat through teeth gritted in fury and effort.

Soon his eyes rolled back into his head and he began to collapse. Still I held on, even as his limp form sank to the floor. I bent down with him, losing grip of one of the braids, but keeping the other tight as I recovered the lost one. I pulled and pulled, not stopping, certain that if I did he would breathe again and call out for help.

When finally his lips had turned a hideous blue and his eyes had rolled back down to stare at me, cold and dead, I released my grip. I put my hands to my face, still curled from the tight grip, unable to unclench them.

I looked at him there on the floor. I could not believe what I had done. I had killed a man. I had committed the greatest transgression one could against the Gods, and I was ashamed.

"For you, my child," I whispered, putting my trembling, curled hands to my belly. I felt as though I might be ill, but I forced myself to be calm and hurry with what needed to be done. Reaching out between the bars, I pulled the ring of keys from its hook on his belt. Shaking, I tried them one by one until I found the one that unlocked the cell door. I pushed it open slowly, lest it creak, and stepped out. I feared as I stepped over the lifeless guard that he would spring back to life and grab my foot, but of course he did not.

I crept up the steps and laced my dress as I went. I knew that there was an exit to the outside near the top of the stairs, since that's where I had been dragged in. A great wooden door stood closed at the top of the stairs. It had a keyhole, and I peeked through it but saw only darkness beyond. Schooling my hand to not shake and drop the keys and make a racket, I tried them again, one by one, until one of them turned in the lock and I was able to crack open the door.

I saw no one close by, so I opened the door enough to slip out and then closed it behind me. I locked it again from the outside and then slipped the ring of keys underneath very slowly. I didn't want to carry them with me, lest they should jingle.

The room in which I found myself was unlit, and not so much of a room as a walled and roofed courtyard. An archway led outside to my left. I paused before going through, afraid a guard might stand on the other side. But of course, I had no other route to take, and I had not done so much to cower at that point. I thought of my Kurit, whom by then I knew must be mad with worry, and poked my face far enough out of the arch to see if anyone stood there.

No one did.

I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the Gods, praying to them to please let me find my way home. Happy to be escaping, I almost ran forward like a fool, stopping short only when I heard voices overhead and realized guards stood on the level above, no doubt armed with typical Wusul spears.

I peered upwards and could not see them. They did not appear to be looking straight down, and really, why would they, since they were likely supposed to watch for threats coming from the open fields.

I looked at the sky and remembered Kordos's lessons on astronomy. The stars that formed a near circle appeared at this time of year in the northern sky. If I could not see them, I knew I'd be facing south.

The circle was not present that I could see. I was unsure whether I was near the western border with Asune or the eastern with Taeten, but I knew if I went south, I would soon be in my own land again.

I put myself flush as best I could on the outer wall and crept eastward quickly along it, praying that none of the guards above would chance to look straight below. I moved until I came to a point where stables jutted to the south. Taking a deep breath, I ran the few steps between the wall and the stable, moving quickly into an open and dark stall.

I paused there and peered around the wall. I saw guards standing about on the upper level, paying not the slightest bit of attention to what went on below. Still, I was cautious as I crept from stall to stall, carefully listening for the sound of a stablehand or other person who might see me and alert the guards.

I came to the edge of the stables, far enough from the light of the Wusul fortress. I heard the laughter of the guards echo through the air. I crept away, my hands under my great belly to support it.

Once I was sure I was out of sight, I tried to run, but the bouncing of my belly was too much and I had to stop. So I walked as swiftly as I could, fuelled by fear and the excitement of escape. In my mind I called to Kurit to say I was coming home to him.

Through dark meadows I walked, always looking and listening behind me, sure my escape would soon be discovered and I would be chased. My heart raced, and despite the chilly late winter's air, sweat poured down my face.

On I went, with as much determination as I had felt so long ago travelling from the inn to the outpost. I reminded myself that I had made that trip and lived, and I convinced myself I would do the same now.

But being so great with child, I tired easily and could not go even a fraction of the speed I had on that long ago night and day. I often found myself having to stop to lean against a tree. I knew I could not afford to lie down to sleep, for the Wusul would find me. So I walked, half-sleeping, trying not to tumble and injure my child.

I was shocked when daylight began to peek over the horizon. I had been in a stupor as I walked, unaware so much time had passed. I cast a quick glance behind me but saw no one approaching. I moved on until I came across a small grove of trees, several of which had wide bottoms with low branches. Remembering how Kurit and I had slept beneath such a tree as we fled to Endren, I sank to my hands and knees and crawled beneath it. Before I could ponder the wisdom of sleeping there, I was doing so.

I woke with a start in mid-afternoon. As soon as I remembered where I was, I forced myself to lie still and listen to the sounds around me. Hearing no evidence of men nor horses, I crept out of my hiding place to look around. There was no one to be seen. I wondered if the Gods were smiling upon me and had caused my escape to not yet be discovered. In prayer for my baby, I began to walk again.

If I was ever pursued, I saw no evidence of it. Perhaps they didn't know what direction I had gone. Perhaps they didn't think me worthy of the effort. Or perhaps someone had finally believed I was royalty and had wisely decided to not start a war. I have never learned the answer, and I couldn't bring myself to care at the time.

I continued walking as much as I could, though my feet hurt from swelling and from wearing shoes less than appropriate for such a trek. My back suffered a constant ache from the weight of the child I carried, and my only relief was to clasp my hands under my belly and support myself. But I was going home to my beloved Kurit, and that inspired me to continue despite the aches and pains.

It was still early for spring, so there were few edible plants to be found, but thankfully the mild winter had not covered the fields in snow. Had they been, I would have certainly died from the cold and damp. The ground was mostly dry, hard, and cold, and I was glad of it. But I was starved for food and worried greatly that the child growing in me would suffer if I could not find some.

I recalled that Kordos had once given me a lesson on edible roots. Though I saw no plant resembling the drawings in his books, I decided it was worth trying the roots of one of the smaller trees. I found a stick and chopped at the frozen ground, my fingers burning with the cold, until I exposed the white flesh of a narrow root. I stabbed it awkwardly with the stick until it was severed.

I scraped away the dirt with my numb fingers and nails until I was satisfied it was sufficiently clean. Then I bit into it. It was awfully bitter and fell apart in my mouth like revolting mush. But it was not so awful that I felt ill, so I chewed it for some time. I stabbed the ground along its length, pulling more of it out to take with me, hoping it wouldn't turn out to be poisonous.

On I went, sampling whatever appeared edible. Most of it tasted bad, but it was better than nothing. I ate roots from trees, handfuls of dried grass from the previous fall, and I even tried some odd, hard seed-like things that hung from some of the needled trees. They were horrible and burned my tongue, so I spit them out and didn't try them again.

I remained hungry and thirsty, though the roots I carried with me contained some moisture. I wished for enough nourishment to maintain my strength for walking, which I did half consciously, always making sure to watch the movement of the sun or the locations of the stars to keep heading south.

On the fourth day, I came across a well-beaten road. By its direction I guessed it to be Northpath, and I was overjoyed to know I must be in Keshaerlan. I recalled my geography lessons, and knew that I had to be in Taeten, as the Northpath lies south of mountains in Alesha and runs through Feleanwood in Asune. I considered taking Northpath, but I knew I would be heading away from Endren if I did so. Furthermore, I would be more likely to be accosted by thieves who lay in wait by the trading routes, especially since the mild weather would prompt merchants to begin their season any day.

I decided to head southwest, thinking I would inevitably run into some town or other. I thought perhaps I might even find Maellorn if I was fortunate, where I knew Lady Aelwin would help me. I strode forth, inspired by having an idea of where I was. I envisioned myself returning to the palace to fall into Kurit's dear arms. He would be overjoyed to see me and would kiss me and hold me and likely never let me out of his sight again. The happy thought gave me cause to smile, though I was of course still concerned for my safety and especially that of my child.

The days passed as I walked, and though I lost count of them, I am fairly sure it was the tenth or eleventh day that I saw buildings in the distance. My heart sank somewhat as I realized there was no tower or other indication that it would be Maellorn, but I was confident I would be home soon once I found someone to help me.

The buildings turned out to be quite small, so the town was closer than I had realized, with mountains looming perhaps a day's walk south of them. I approached the homes eagerly, anticipating a meal and a bed before being taken to Endren. A woman worked to pump water near the outermost building, and I swiftly approached.

"Please," I called to her. "Please, I need help."

She stopped her work and stared at me with reservation. I came to stand near her, and she cast an eye to my belly, her face turning hard.

"I am the wife of Prince Kurit. Please, I was abducted from Endren, and I need to get home."

She looked at me in disbelief. "The Prince is not wed," she stated as if it were fact.

"But he is! I am his wife. I am Princess Aenna."

"Who?"

I saw others come out of their homes to see what was occurring. They stared at me suspiciously once they noticed I was with child.

"I am Kurit's wife. I married him last summer. Surely, this cannot be unknown to you?"

"We have heard of no royal wedding," said a gruff old man.

"Granted, it takes a long time for news to reach us," said the woman who had been pumping the water, "but we would have heard, had there been a wedding."

I was dumbfounded. They didn't know who I was. They had never heard my name. I decided to appeal to their decency instead. "I speak the truth, but even if you doubt me, please, I need help. I am far from home and close to birth."

"You'll not have your bastard child here, harlot!" cried an old woman from her porch. Murmurs of agreement swept those who gawked. There were perhaps fifteen people now.

"Bastard child?" I repeated, aghast at the idea. "This is the son or daughter of your future King! This child is the next heir to the throne after Kurit!"

"You speak treason with your lies!" cried the first woman. She bent to the ground, picked up a pebble and hurled it viciously at me.

Cries of "harlot" and "whore" rung out as the others joined the stoning. I covered my head and turned my back, trying to reason with them. It was clearly to no avail, so I hurried away. They pursued me some distance, casting stones and screaming at me that I would not bring my immorality to their town.

Finally they stopped their pursuit when I was clearly heading away from their homes. I sobbed in fear and anguish. How could they be so cruel? I was not a whore!

I found a seat by a great tree and wept for a long time. I was weak, tired, sore, filthy, and so very hungry. In my fatigue, I wondered if I would meet the same fate at any town and decided I could not risk it. I remembered Cael's invitation to Staelorn, but I was afraid to head directly west and end up crossing through further populated areas. Even if I did, how could I be sure that I would be allowed to see Cael when I arrived? I had no doubt that he would recognize me and help me in an instant, but what if his guards or the guards even of Staelorn refused me admittance?

I wept desperately, unsure what to do, knowing only that my desire to be at home was overwhelming. I am ashamed now to remember how weak I was, but the truth of it is I was alone and afraid. I cried myself to sleep at the foot of that tree, waking only when the sun was down and a chill settled in. I rose and walked again, afraid I would freeze to death if I did not keep moving.

Two days later, I was very close to the mountains and came to a wide river at their feet. It was obviously the Great Kal, and I knew I could follow it almost entirely to Endren. So I walked along the shores, my belly growing bigger despite my hunger, and I worried in every moment that my poor child would die inside me because I was not feeding either of us. Every time I felt a kick or movement, I breathed a sigh of relief.

My weariness and hunger soon made me delirious. At times I thought I heard Kurit's voice calling my name, and I would look frantically about for him, only to realize I was alone. Knowing I was going mad, I took to talking to my baby, telling him or her about Kurit and Jarik, stories of our wedding and how happy we were. I spoke of how good King Tarken was, and how delighted he would be to behold a grandson or granddaughter. It soothed me to speak out loud, though my paranoia increased nonetheless. Had I actually come across a living soul, I would have hidden myself unless I saw that them to be my husband or Champion.

In a sad attempt to feed myself, I gathered handfuls of last summer's grass and twisted it together, braiding the twists into a snare cord. I worked at it as I walked and completed it in good time. Then I realized I had no bait to lay in the snare, nor did I have a knife to gut the carcass of whatever fanciful beast would be attracted to the lack of bait. I screamed out curses in anger and depression and flung the rope into the river, watching in depression as it was carried away by the swift water.

The days passed, and soon I knew I was close to the time of birth. I wept continuously, certain my child would die as I was far from help, food, or shelter. When my pains and the first flows of birthing fluid began, I knew the time was upon me. I prayed to the Gods to please let my baby live and let me live long enough to take the child home safely.

In a rare moment of clarity, I gathered together a large pile of grass and old, decayed leaves and set it at the foot of a tree near a part of the river that was reasonably calm, with access to the frigid water. I removed my lower underclothes and tore out the lower layer of my dress. I took several strips from it and laid them to the side, and then I laid out the cloth carefully as well.

I knelt facing the tree, the pile of soft refuse under me, and gripped the tree hard when the pains hit. As they came closer together, taking with them my remaining energy, I squatted in what was surely an obscene manner and leaned on the tree, letting the weight of the child help me to birth it. Hours felt as months as the pain wracked my whole weakened body.

I remember little but excruciating pain and hearing myself cry out weakly throughout the birth. I felt helpless and afraid, and I shook with pain and sobs. When finally it was over, I looked down to see a wrinkled, bloody baby boy there, writhing in the soft grass pile.

Weeping such that I could hardly see, I groped blindly until I felt two of the strips I had torn. I managed somehow to tie them tightly around the cord that protruded from my child's stomach and then picked up my baby for the first time. I cradled him in my arms but then realized by some miracle of wit that he was not crying. I turned him over and soundly pounded his tiny backside until he spat out fluid and let out a great yell. I had thought him to be dying, and his robust cry was a delight to me. I smiled through my tears as I cradled him and laid myself down on the cold ground once I had passed the placenta. He howled in the cold, so I reached for the cloth I had torn and dried his skin as best I could and then unlaced my dress and put him up against my chest, between my breasts. I wrapped my arms around him in an attempt to warm his tiny body without smothering him. Then I fainted away.

I awoke some time later in darkness, feeling wet. My infant son had urinated on me, leaving me even filthier than I already was. My legs were wet as well. I panicked when I saw how much blood there was around me. Then I recalled having read a book of midwifery during my biological studies—a book Kordos had condemned as unsuitable for a lady's reading, which was of course precisely what made me want to read it. The book had said a great deal of blood was to be expected after the placenta had been delivered, and I managed to convince myself I was not bleeding to death. This was easier once I considered the fact that I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it, even if I was.

Recalling the book also made me realize I had more to do. I had to find sharp stones with which to cut between the ties I'd made on the cord, and I had to clean up the area before we were smelled by beasts of prey. It was reasonable to assume there might be wolves in this area of Keshaerlan.

It took great effort to sit myself up against the tree. I found some stones by the river's edge and used them to do a ragged but complete job of cutting the cord that had bound my son to myself in my womb. He cried in the cold, breaking my heart with the shrillness of it. I cast the pile of refuse, which held the placenta and most of my blood, into the river, hoping the moving scent would distract any predators.

While at the river's edge, I washed the cloth I had torn and wiped some of the blood from myself. I rinsed the cloth again when I was done and then placed it under one of my arms to warm it. When it was no longer freezing cold, I tried again to wash the poor little infant as I lay by the tree with him once more.

The washing made him cry again. I cooed at him softly, moving his little mouth to my breast when I was done. I could not recall from the book if there would be anything there for him yet or not. I hoped simply that I had eaten enough that there would be nourishment for him eventually.

His skin felt so cold, and I panicked as to what to do for him. I put my dirty, matted hair over him and pulled the cloth I had used to clean him over him as best I could. His mouth found my nipple and began to suckle immediately, and I slept once more.

### Chapter 12

FOR SEVERAL DAYS I remained where I had given birth to recuperate, fearful that if I began my journey home again too soon I would be too weak to succeed. I ate what I could of old grasses strewn about, knowing I gained no nutrition from them, but just needing something in my empty belly. I began to menstruate, which made me an even further mess, as I had nothing with which I could properly tend to it. I suffered from a depression unlike I'd ever known at being so filthy, helpless, and alone.

Though I was still tired and sore, after the sixth day I forced myself to continue on. I stumbled along with my son cradled in my dress. I don't remember most of it, for I believe I was barely conscious, driven by the need to take my baby to his father. I heard voices around me and learned to ignore them, for there was never a human in sight. I forgot at times even that I had the child in my arms, waking from my stupor only when his shrill cry reminded me to put him to my breast to be fed.

After two or three days of this nonsense, I saw a farmhouse in the distance. I wanted to ask for help, but I was fearful to do so. Instead, I waited until darkness and then crept to the house. I peeked into the window and saw an older couple with a young girl, seated at a table together. I envisioned them cursing me as the townsfolk had and decided not to risk exposing my baby to them. I crept to their barn, where there was no horse and only one cow. There was a barrel of grain there, and I stole greedy handfuls of it, filling my mouth and choking the stuff down dry. It scratched my throat raw, but I didn't care. I ate until I thought I would be sick.

I saw a large woollen blanket hanging on a hook. The material was dirty, damp, and unpleasant to touch, but I stole it anyway. After wrapping it around myself and my son, I stumbled back into the night. I wanted to cry for what I had done, what I had been reduced to, but I was too tired. I had long forgotten what it was to be warm, comfortable, free of pain, or to taste a good meal.

The next day I passed a waterfall in the distance and knew by its great height that I was close to where the river would intersect with the King's Road. Though I had become convinced that anyone I saw would either be in league with Sashken or think me a harlot, the prospect of reaching the road that led home eased my spirit for the first time since I had been stoned. My pains somehow seemed lesser at the thought of being close to home.

As the sun fell the next day, I saw the window lights of what I assumed to be Ashlen, the closest Aleshan town to Endren. I went wide around it in my mad fear but was further comforted by the knowledge I would soon be home.

When finally the afternoon came that I reached the well-travelled King's Road, I took stock of my situation. My shoes had worn almost completely away, one of them with barely enough whole material to keep the worn sole to my foot. My clothes were torn, stiff with filth, and smelled abominable. My hair was matted such that I wondered if it would all have to be cut off—a sad thought, since it was its length that had saved me and my son. We were wrapped in a dirty barn blanket that smelled terrible and made my skin itch.

As I walked down the road, I realized that I would be as an unrecognizable beggar to all whom I passed. I kept the hood of the blanket hanging over my face, paranoid with the idea that anyone who saw me would alert the wretched Sashken and she would have her hideous plans finally carried out.

My poor son wept often in my arms despite my attempts to keep him fed and warm. I had torn more cloth to serve as his diaper but had nowhere to wash it when it was soiled. So I tore smaller strips to line the diaper and cast those aside as he fouled them. Soon there was almost nothing left of my underclothes, and what remained was covered in my own menstrual blood and filth.

The next morning I caught sight of Endren in the distance, and had I not been so pitifully weak and starved, I would have run the remainder of the way. I whispered Kurit's name under my breath in near madness for him.

Yet as I approached, I became filled with a terrible dread. What if he had gone in search of me and stupidly killed himself in the process? Or worse, what if he believed me dead and had taken his life in grief? I didn't for a moment fear that his heart would have strayed, for I knew his love would last longer than my absence had been. I feared that he might have done something foolish in desperation, and that thought quickened my pace and returned some semblance of clarity to my otherwise crazed mind.

By the time I reached the north gates that afternoon, my fears and pains had turned into a wrathful hatred for Sashken. I loathed her for doing this to Kurit and my baby, not to mention myself. I whispered to my infant son that I would see her hanged for her crime, promising him that I would not allow her to escape. I had always been horrified by the prospect of hangings, but in this case my maternal instinct prevailed.

I waited near the gates with the blanket hiding my face until I saw Graek making his rounds. I approached him, but a guard caught my arm to stop me. Despite my fear of being recognized, I called out Graek's name.

He heard my call and came to see what poor wretch had the gall to summon him by name and without title. The guard held me back from him with a painfully rough grip.

"Why did you call to me?" Graek asked in a stern voice, no doubt suspecting me of being some treacherous little fiend.

I snapped my arm out of the guard's grip and lifted the blanket enough that Graek could see my face. For a moment he just stared, and then his eyes widened with shocked recognition.

"Praise the Gods—" he began, but I dropped the hood and held a hand to hush him. He shooed the guard away and put a fast arm around me to lead me away from the assorted people waiting entrance to Endren.

"Your Highness, can it really be you?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Graek, I need to go home," was all I could manage to answer. I expected myself to begin weeping, but my body just couldn't produce the tears.

"Of course! I shall summon a litter to carry you—" he began, but again I silenced him. In the fast language of a madwoman, I stammered out the rough details of what Sashken had done, naming her as guilty. His face became as stone in anger.

"Graek, please, I am so afraid to trust anyone. I trust you but I am so mad with fatigue and hunger that my mind reels even against that. Please, take me to the palace, but quietly. I am terrified she will be alerted to my return and kill my son."

He had been so concerned and alarmed by my sudden arrival and shocking story of Sashken that he had forgotten to even ask about a child. I lifted the blanket so that he could see I had my boy cradled in my arms.

"By all that's sacred, Your Highness, I am overwhelmed. How can this be? How can you have returned like this, bearing a child in your arms?"

"Later. I shall tell the whole tale to all who wish to hear it later. Now, please, I want to be quietly taken home. No welcome, no cries of delight that I have returned. I want to go into that Great Hall, seek out the contemptible, murderous slut that caused this misery, and accuse her there for all to see. Bring your guards so she cannot run. I want her to hang for her crime."

"Indeed, Your Highness, I shall see to it personally if I must!" he replied angrily. "But let me fetch you a litter. You must be almost faint with fatigue."

"No. I have walked this far. A few more steps won't cause me further harm, and my fury at Sashken lends me more energy now than I've had since my child was born." I started into the city, and he followed quickly behind, calling three guards to him as we walked. He kindly offered me an arm to lean on, but I was fuelled by my refreshed wrath and did not take it. I lifted my head high, though it was still hidden by the blanket. I felt my face grow hard and my jaw clench with the determination to see the harlot dragged away. So great did my fury build that I even temporarily forgot the joy of coming home to my beloved husband.

When finally Graek escorted me through the doors and into the Great Hall, my heart raced with an insatiable desire for revenge. My eyes swept over those who were present, stopping when they fell upon the hateful, skinny whore.

"Sashken!" I cried out, belting the word forth with venomous loathing. I saw her turn in my direction and continued, "You should demand your blood money back, because your thugs failed to carry out your request for my execution!"

I threw back the corners of the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and reveal my ragged, filthy form. The infant in my arms cried out pitifully as I shouted again. "You thought me dead, but here I stand to accuse you of paying for my abduction and ordering me to be murdered while my son still grew in my womb!"

Her face became sickly pale, as though I were the dead risen before her. Noise buzzed around me as those present reacted in great alarm at my presence and my words. I felt my energy draining quickly as the guards approached her. She appeared to be too stunned to consider running or to speak in her own defence. The guards took her arms, but still she stared at me in horror.

"The men you paid to murder me sold me instead as a slave to the Wusul. I escaped and have walked these last weeks alone, forced to bear Kurit's son in the wilderness, all because of your twisted lust for my husband. I will not abide the sight of you further." I turned weakly to Graek, my fury waning, and muttered, "Get her away from me."

He called out an order to his guards and then put a steadying arm around my shoulders as my legs began to give way. I remained standing only because of his support until there beside me was King Tarken, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. I wanted to speak to him, to say something reassuring, to ask where Kurit was, but my head was filled with madness and the return of the debilitating fatigue. I heard him call out an instruction to someone as he took my baby from my arms.

"Aenna, give me the child before you fall. I shall care for my grandson," he said, continuing on with something about praise to the Gods that I had returned, but his words floated around me without meaning.

Then I heard a great cry from atop the staircase that led to the south wing. I focused my eyes enough to see Kurit, who again shouted my name in dreadful anguish. Someone must have run to fetch him, for he ran down the steps with an unlaced shirt, hair a mess, as though he had been in bed despite the late hour of the afternoon.

He was fast to my side, embracing me wildly, crying out my name, though in delight or grief I could not tell. Graek let me go into his arms, and he caught me up, lifting me from the floor. The relief of his touch made my head swim, and I happily let myself faint away as he covered my face in kisses, cradling my drained body.

I regained consciousness very suddenly and found myself being lowered into a tub of what felt like scalding water. After being so cold for so long, the water was searing, and I cried out. My poor raw and blistered feet kicked away from the heat of their own accord.

"Hush, Aenna, you're safe now," Kurit said. He was lowering me into the tub himself, putting his arms in with me to do so with great care. His shirt became soaked.

Oh, the stench that arose when my filthy body polluted that water! I gagged at it myself and felt awful, delirious shame. I tried to speak to Kurit and Leiset, who was there as well, to tell them I was sorry and ashamed of my condition, but all that came from my mouth was incomprehensible gibberish.

"Don't worry, Aenna, we'll clean you up. You'll be in a warm bed soon," cooed Leiset. She tried to shoo Kurit away from the gruesome task, pleading the impropriety of the Prince bathing any woman in this condition.

"She's my wife!" he bellowed so loudly that Leiset flinched away from him. "I'll bathe her. I'm not leaving her side. Now go and bring a second tub so she won't get cold waiting for a change of water. And in the Temple's name fetch her some food before she dies in my arms of starvation!"

Leiset heeded his orders and left. I tried again to speak, to beg him to not be so angry, but again my mind failed to connect to my mouth in any coherent fashion.

"Hush, Aenna," he said. One of his arms remained hooked under my shoulders to keep me upright in the tub, as I would have slipped weakly under the surface otherwise. I felt him washing me with a cloth under the water. "Don't worry—everything is going to be better now, you'll see," he said frantically, just as he had the day I took the arrow in my shoulder. He had that same frightened tone as he spoke, though the tears he shed in this instance seemed more the tears of relief than of dread. He repeated my name over and over: his Aenna, his sweet Aenna, dear Aenna, and endless other praises. Then he prayed out loud to each of the Gods in turn, thanking them for bringing me home to him.

I passed in and out of consciousness as he went on with his litany. At some point he lifted me from the tub and placed me in another, and I think that I recall that happening at least one other time after that. Gently and thoroughly he washed me, even my matted hair. When the bathing was done, he cradled me in large, soft towels and dried my naked skin, which thankfully no longer reeked of filth. As he did so, Leiset stood behind me, rubbing towels in my hair and soon trying to brush it for me.

I vaguely recall Tash's presence, though I cannot be sure when during these actions he came. If he examined me, that I also do not recall, nor whether he banished Kurit from the room as he did so. I suspect that would have been impossible.

Eventually I opened my eyes to find myself in bed, bundled with thick blankets. My feet throbbed, and I realized they were bound in cloth, which I later learned to be dressing for the raw skin and blisters. Leiset was still working at my tangled mop, and I heard her snipping at the hopelessly matted portions. I wondered how short it would be when she was done and felt sad that the hair I had used to save my son was being taken away.

Kurit saw my open eyes and immediately began to feed me. "Eat, Aenna. Then you can sleep again. You must eat. There's almost nothing left to you, my poor love." It was warm soup, and instantly the most delicious food I had ever tasted. It was rich and thick, a chicken broth with very small bits of potato and corn. I could separately taste every ingredient, and the fat of the broth was a delightful salve all the way down my throat. It was paradise.

Kurit chopped the spoon into the bowl to make the potatoes small enough that I hardly needed to chew. I tried to reach out to take the bowl from him to feed myself, but he pushed my hand down. "You mustn't eat too much too fast, Aenna. You'll be sick, and your weak body can't take that. Let me do this for you."

The soup's hearty warmth, the comfortable bed, Kurit and Leiset's care, it was all like a sweet dream. Wrapped in such warm comforts, I fell asleep and remained asleep for a long time.

It was dark when I awoke, though a lantern somewhere in the room provided enough light that I saw Kurit watching me intently, so I did not panic and wonder where I was.

"Where's my baby?" I managed to whisper.

Kurit reached a hand to my head and lovingly stroked my hair. "He's fine, Aenna. Tash has seen him and says he is small but well. You need not worry for him just now." Kurit began putting food in my mouth immediately.

"I must feed him," I managed to say between mouthfuls.

Kurit shook his head. "You're too weak for that, and you're so starved yourself that you're not giving him enough nutrients. Tash made him some mixture or other and fed him this afternoon. He's fine, Aenna. He's in good hands. Lyenta the nursemaid is watching over him. I shall bring him to you myself in the morning if you like."

"Keep your mother away from him," I said before I had the wit to censor the thought.

Kurit looked away, and I could not tell if he was angry, saddened, or to whom such emotion was aimed. He sighed and said quietly, "I know why you are suspicious. I wonder too if she led Sashken's vile hand in this. But I can't believe that she would kill her unborn grandson, Aenna. I can't imagine she could go so far. And I am certain she will not harm him now. Whatever hatred she has for you, she bears me no ill will, and she knows all too well that he is my son. Our child is safe. But if you are going to fret about it, then I shall promise to keep her away from him until you are well." He set the food aside, leaned to me, and kissed my forehead. "Though I would understand if you doubt my promises of protection. I clearly failed to protect my son and wife before. I shall die before I let anyone harm either of you again."

"Don't," I said. "Don't be filled with guilt. That was my greatest fear, that I would come home to find you had run off and destroyed yourself trying to find me, or taken your life in guilt and grief."

"I suppose then I should admit that I considered the thought but lacked the courage to do so. I am so cowardly that I couldn't even give my life for you."

"Stop. Don't even dare to speak that way."

"It's the truth," he confessed.

"Make it untrue. You could not have prevented what happened."

"Perhaps. I should have been out looking for you, though, instead of pining for you behind the palace walls." He took my hand between his and squeezed it almost painfully. "By the Temple, Aenna, I thought you were dead. When Leiset found the note that said you were running off again, she ran screaming into the Council room to show me. She knew immediately it was not your handwriting, though it was an attempted likeness. Everyone in that room rose immediately to help search the palace. Soldiers stormed through Endren, going into every home and building, for we knew that you would not leave of your own accord. Not for a moment did I believe you would be so foolish. We knew something terrible was happening to you, and it drove us all mad to not find you.

"Forces flew out of the city to search. We learned from the guards at the gate that two men had left hurriedly with a cart carrying only straw, and the palace gate records showed a similar cart had left the courtyard just before that, after delivering kegs of wine. Jarik and I rode hard up the King's Road, but by then it had been over an hour, maybe two, and we found nothing. Later we also learned that the guard at the entrance saw both you and Sashken go out into the courtyard that night, but when Sashken was questioned, she claimed to have been stepping out for some fresh air after an evening spent talking to Mother—which Mother confirmed, by the way—and not even I dared to think that she had actually had a hand in your disappearance. Had she displayed the countenance of a pleased victor or a guilty wretch, I would have been suspicious. But she seemed unconcerned. Forgive me, my love, for being so easily fooled." He sighed and looked at me with forlorn eyes.

"Aenna, we were so afraid for you. You can't know how horrible it was, not knowing if you were still alive, where you were, or what wicked things were being done to you. By the Gods themselves, I screamed your name into the night so many times that my throat became raw and I could no longer make a sound.

"I wanted to keep searching when morning came, but my mother wouldn't allow it. She convinced Father it would be unsafe, and they had my riding gear locked away. But I didn't care. I ordered a guard off his horse and took that one. They had to drag me in protest back here several times, and each time I went out again.

"Jarik organized teams that went to comb every direction in a circle around Endren, even into the mountains. Mother locked my doors from the outside, so I climbed down from my balcony and crept back through the palace to go out again. But I twisted my leg whilst dropping myself down from the balcony, so when they dragged me back to Endren yet again, I gave up the fight. I became convinced it had been so long that you must be dead. So I gave up and stayed in my room, grieving for you. I'm sorry, Aenna," he finished in a tearful whisper.

"You wouldn't have found me," I said. "They had me in a smuggler's box under the cart and then sold me to slave traders."

Shock and dismay crossed his face, and he began again his litany of apologies.

"Kurit, stop. I can't bear to hear it. Just hold me, please. I dreamt of returning home to be in your arms." He stopped speaking and went around the bed to lie with me. He slipped under the covers with me and tenderly embraced me.

Hearing his heartbeat, feeling his strong arms around me and small kisses on my forehead, I remembered how I had longed for him and broke into tears. It was such relief to be there, such sweet relief, that my body was soon racked with sobs, all my anxiety and fear finally coming out.

He held me, spoke soft words of comfort, kissed my cheeks and forehead, and begged me not to cry. Soon exhaustion returned, and I slept enveloped in him, warm and safe in his arms.

### Chapter 13

AFTER ANOTHER FULL night and day of being stuffed with food and cared for with great attention by Kurit, Leiset, and even King Tarken, I began to feel much better. I was still very tired, and my feet hurt worse than they did while I had been walking, but I had the strength to sit with people long enough to tell the story of what had happened. I had wanted to wait for Jarik's return, but messengers were probably just then finding his search party to inform them of the good news, and the others were so eager to know what had happened that I did not wish to make them wait. Also, the trial for Sashken would soon be held, and my testimony needed to be recorded while it was still fresh in my mind.

Kurit brought our son to me to be fed, though Tash was still supplementing my feedings with his nutrient-rich mixture. Kurit left my boy with me, went to tell the others to gather in my receiving room in the afternoon, and then arranged for a scribe to attend to record my words.

When he returned, I reminded him our child still had no name.

He smiled—a rare thing, as he remained plagued by guilt regardless of my assurances otherwise—and said, "I thought about that last night. I went over many honourable ancestral names in my mind, but there was always something wrong with them. Either the name had a nice sound but had been attached to someone I didn't approve of, or the name sounded wretched even though it came from an honourable man.

"So I pondered the notion of creating a new name for him, and I thought perhaps we could combine other names. When King Rudik was an infant, he had an adventure much like our boy did. A maid carried him out of Endren in a basket of bread because the palace was under attack by a rebellious faction of the King's Guard. When he was a grown man, Rudik took back his rightful throne and restructured the King's Guard. He wrote the oath they still recite today. But Rudik... what a harsh name. I thought perhaps, since the naming traditions of your homeland still very much follow old Maellan patterns, we could add that in. I put them together and thought of Raelik."

I looked at the sleeping baby in my arms. "Raelik," I repeated. It was a good name. I smiled at Kurit and nodded. "He shall be called Raelik, then. I like that." I passed the boy to his father and sighed happily to watch how Kurit's face lit up in delight with his son's wiggling and soft, sleepy noises.

After we had taken our lunch together, Kurit carried Raelik and me to the receiving room. He set me gently on the couch and bundled me with pillows and blankets. The baby was awake, so I rocked him in my arms to keep him happy.

Kurit sat by my side as the small audience gathered. The King sat near me, trying to keep his face schooled for the upcoming unpleasant tale, but every time little Raelik made a sound or got his tiny fist into my hair—which had been cut to waist-length—the King's reserved countenance would break into an endearing smile. I worried that he would request my child be taken away so as not to be a distraction, but I could not bear to have him gone from my sight when I was awake. No one made the request, and I was glad of it.

Kasha sat facing us head-on, as though sitting to make a judgment. It would make it hard to avoid looking at her, but with Kurit by my side, I felt that I could safely speak without being nervous.

Leiset, Gilrin, King Tarken's manservant, and a scribe stood at the back of the room.

I began the story from the point where Melly delivered the note until meeting with Graek at the gate. I told every detail I could recall: the descriptions of the men along the way; the threat of the Wusul to kill my child, to which Tarken said I was correct that war would have been a likely result; the townsfolk who cast stones at me and how I considered seeking help from Lady Aelwin or Lord Cael but had become too afraid that I would be turned away at the gates; and the birth of my son.

I expressed terrible regret and guilt for the crime of murder, to which everyone but Kasha responded quickly with words of comfort, agreeing that it was not murder to kill in self-defence or the defence of one's child. I confessed also the crime of having stolen the handfuls of grain and the blanket, but the King assured me he would try to help me later determine the location of the farmhouse and have money sent to them in repayment for what I had taken.

They all listened intently to the entire story. Whenever I spoke of being afraid or in pain, Kurit would close his eyes and squeeze my hand, which he held throughout. He became furious with the Wusul and the townsfolk who had driven me away. Tarken calmed Kurit's anger on the latter by saying official messengers would be sent throughout the northern provinces to ensure every town knew my name and that of my son. He said further that it would be determined which town I had been to, and those people would be notified of their misguided crime. He said he would not have them punished for their ignorance but hoped being told by the King's Guard that they had been so wrong would shame them to act in greater charity in the future.

The King told me that I should indeed have gone west to Staelorn, for there Cael's soldiers knew of my disappearance, and I would not have been turned away. Still, he said he understood my fear and did not speak in condemnation of my decision.

Kasha spoke not a word throughout but glared at me coldly. When these other discussions had ended, she finally did speak in an accusatory tone. "How fascinating that you were allegedly able to strangle a Wusul soldier with hair that would hardly wrap fully around your own throat," she said.

"Mother!" Kurit snapped back. "We had to cut a great deal of her hair away on her return. It was long enough at the time!"

The Queen looked unconvinced. "And are we really to believe you gave birth to a child without any medical assistance?"

"Your Majesty," I replied, "many women give birth with little assistance. Peasant farmers' wives cannot afford to pay physicians or midwives to help them, and if no other family lives close, it is only the husband who can help. Many children enter life this way."

"Oh, of course," she said mockingly. "Peasant women. How fortunate that you yourself—"

"Kasha, don't," said the King, cutting her off before the obvious insult could be finished.

She cast him a reproachful look for it but did not continue the sentence. Instead she said, "Now that you're here, there's no reason for you to cling to the child as though he's your doll. And there will certainly not be any more tolerance for your feeding him. That's what wet nurses are for."

"Wet nurses?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation as though I were a stupid child.

"Aenna," Kurit said quietly, "a wet nurse is one who not only cares for the baby but also feeds it from her own breast."

I looked at him in revolted alarm. "How disgusting! I'm his mother, and I can feed him myself!"

"You shall do no such thing," Kasha said. "It is unseemly and not proper for the child."

"Not proper for the child?" I snapped. "What do you imagine kept him alive out there? Fervent prayers and desperate hopes? I've fed him this long. It is my breast he is used to, and it is my breast that will continue to feed him. It is not unseemly or inappropriate for a mother to nurse her own child! What hideous beast of a soul ever created the notion otherwise?"

"Someone with a great deal more intelligence and sense of propriety than you!" Kasha retorted in hot anger.

"Mother, that's enough!" Kurit shouted. "If Aenna wishes to nurse our child, then she shall do so. For all we know it could harm Raelik to have him switched now to a wet nurse."

"I warned you that she would twist your mind," Kasha continued, rising to her feet. "You agree to her filthy peasant ways now, and the next thing she'll have this kingdom upside down in turmoil!"

"Out!" shouted Tarken, who was also on his feet. His face was red with fury, and he pointed to the door. "Leave, Kasha! The girl has just gone through a harrowing ordeal but still has brought us home an heir. Who are you, that you can be so cruel and filled with such hate? I don't know who you have become! Leave us! I won't abide you to send this family into chaos because of your inexplicable hatred. Go now!"

The Queen treated me to an angry stare, and I knew she wished that I had died somehow along my way. Whether she had a hand in the abduction, I never learned. But at that moment, I had no doubt that she wished dearly Sashken had succeeded. She left in a fury, closing the door so hard behind her that the noise echoed down the hall outside.

Kurit went quickly to his father's side, for the older man was still red-faced and puffing in a manner that worried me. His breath wheezed as he sat down. The King waved Kurit away and grumbled that he would be fine—his heart was just racing faster than he should have allowed it to. His manservant offered to fetch Tash, but King Tarken refused. "I don't want to hear another time how I'm supposed to remain calm. I've heard it from him before." He finally did accept a glass of water from Gilrin, and in time the wheezing stopped.

"I didn't mean to provoke her," I said quietly when the awkward silence became too much to bear.

"You didn't," Kurit said, returning to sit with me. "If you hadn't argued about the wet nurse, it would have been something else. She was looking for a reason."

"I shouldn't have allowed her to join us," the King said. "I thought now, with all that had happened, she'd finally be able to put her prejudices to rest. I can't imagine what it will take to do so. I'm beginning to doubt she'll ever accept you, Aenna, and for that I am truly sorry. But enough of this. There should be no sad faces here. You are back safe with us, my brave young woman, and your gift of a grandson delights me. Let me hold the child, please. It calms me."

I handed the infant to Kurit, who gladly passed him on to the King. The scribe politely excused himself as those who remained spent a happy time passing the little Prince around.

* * *

The next afternoon, I knew almost immediately when Jarik had returned, for he burst into the palace and ran straight to my room, causing a ruckus as he ran in his armour. He did not wait to knock on my outer door but came to where I sat on the couch, knelt before me with his head bowed, and said, "Good Princess Aenna, I most humbly beg your merciful forgiveness for failing in my duty to protect you. I thank the Gods themselves for returning you safely to us despite my abhorrent culpability in this matter." Though his head was down, I could see by the side of his sweat-beaded face that his eyes were squeezed shut in shame and regret. It broke my heart to see him suffer so.

"Jarik, stop," I said, leaning to rest a hand on his armoured shoulder. "Please—this wasn't your fault. I knew you'd feel this way, and all while I was gone I worried so for you and Kurit that you would take such blame upon yourselves. You could not have prevented what happened."

He lifted his eyes sheepishly to mine. "I could have indeed, had I been by your side as a Champion ought to be."

I sighed sadly. "Jarik, please. Don't do this to yourself. And don't stay there kneeling before me. You know very well I'm uncomfortable with such servitude, especially from a friend. Come," I said, patting the space beside me on the couch. "Sit with me here. I've missed you so." His eyes not leaving mine, he slowly rose and did as I asked. I took his clenched fist and held it as a ball between my hands. "I was so afraid that I would not see either of you again, and the thought that you both would blame yourselves and seek all manner of self-destruction as a result almost drove me mad. I looked forward so happily to your return today. Don't make it sad. I'm here, safe as can be. Kurit and you are also well, if not a little ragged from worry and running about Keshaerlan searching madly for me. All is well again. There's no reason to be melancholy or regretful."

His eyes closed, and I knew my words had not reached him.

"Please, Jarik, be happy for us all. I have returned alive to you, and my son lives as well." His eyes opened quickly at that, and I realized he must not have been informed about the baby. "Yes, I have a son. I gave birth to him on my way home. He is healthy and grows stronger every minute, it seems." I knew my face was alight with joy to speak of my darling child. I called to Leiset, who had been in the room with me when Jarik entered but had quietly removed herself to her room thereafter. When she returned, I said, "Could you please have Lyenta bring in my son to meet his uncle Jarik? Oh, and as you pass, would you please also knock on Kurit's door and have Gilrin wake him and send him in? Thank you."

She left, and I returned my attention to the distraught warrior beside me. "I'll show you how strong the boy is. You shall adore him, Jarik."

"I have no doubt of that. He is your child and shall therefore be precious in my eyes." Still there was no hint of happiness on Jarik's face.

"As he grows, he shall learn honour and goodness from you, my dear Champion," I said, trying to make him feel better. Instead, I could see that my words gave him greater cause for shame, for his eyes closed sadly again. "Oh, Jarik, don't break my heart so. It's bad enough that I have to order Kurit to sleep in the afternoons because he lies awake all night watching me, fearful I shall suddenly stop breathing or be snatched away again, out of his very arms." I pressed his still-clenched fist to my cheek. It smelled still of metal and horses and leather, the rich, manly smell of a warrior. I held it to my cheek until it finally relaxed and he pressed his soft palm to me.

"There now," I whispered. "Much better." I looked at his face. His eyes were on me, a tender look of sorrow still present. I lowered his hand from my face to the couch between us. "I know you still ache inside. I understand that. But, please, do try in the days that come to remember how to smile. I should be very sad indeed if I should go long without hearing you laugh."

He said nothing but just stared at our clasped hands.

The door opened and Leiset came in with the nurse, who held my Raelik in her arms. She brought him to me and excused herself, as did Leiset.

I held the infant up for Jarik to see. I unwrapped his blanket sufficiently to let his wiggling little arms out and put my finger into one of his tiny little fists. "Look how strong he is. By the Temple, he could almost support his own weight with that grip!"

Jarik did not smile as I did, but a gentle, almost happy look was on his face as he beheld the baby boy in my arms. I suppressed the desire to giggle at the sight of this otherwise tortured warrior being so softened by the sight of an infant. I leaned to Jarik to place Raelik in his arms. He started to protest, but I would not hear it. I put my boy into the strong arms of his mother's Champion.

My heart swelled with adoration and delight to see the look of love on good Jarik's face. It seemed the mightier the man, the more gentle the heart. Raelik caught hold of one of the links of his chain mail, getting his tiny finger right into the narrow holes. With all of the adeptness of a watchful parent, Jarik gently removed the armour from the boy's hand.

Jarik lifted his eyes to me in amazement. "You have created a miracle. How did you do this?"

I smiled as Jarik handed my son back to me. "It is a long and rather dreadful story, I'm afraid." The door opened, and Kurit stepped quietly inside. "Tomorrow at Sashken's trial, the full text of my story will be read in the court," I continued, nodding to Kurit. "If you wish to hear more after that, I shall gladly sit and speak with you about it."

Jarik looked then to Kurit as he sat in a chair near us. They said nothing. I saw them exchange an awkward glance, each humble and sheepish to the other. Immediately I realized that each felt they had failed the other in failing me. Though I knew it would be a battle to release them each of their guilt for me, I refused to stand by while their friendship died in misplaced guilt to one another.

"No," I declared. "Absolutely not. This shall not happen." They looked at me, a matched look of puzzlement that otherwise would have made me laugh. "I see your faces when you behold one another. You each think the other is angry with you, because you both feel such silly guilt. I'll not stand for that! I'll not watch a lifelong friendship spoil because men are too foolish to actually speak their feelings to one another."

Both started to speak, no doubt to tell me some reassurance or other, but the mutual beginning to their speeches brought an immediate mutual end. So they sat in awkward silence, glancing at each other or me, the rest of the time staring at the walls, the floor, their knees, or anywhere else they could.

"The both of you shall drive me mad if you do this to each other. I cannot bear it." I looked to Kurit and asked, "Kurit, are you at all angry or do you harbour any resentment towards your cousin for what happened to me? Speak honestly."

"No, of course not!" he emphatically replied. "He went boldly forth to search for you, when I stayed behind like a woeful weakling—"

"Ah, stop!" I said, holding up a hand and cutting him off before he could finish his litany of guilt. I turned to Jarik next. "Jarik, are you at all angry or do you have any ill feelings towards Kurit because of my abduction and all that followed?"

He shook his head, staring sadly at the pattern of the upholstery on the couch. "No, not in the least. It was I who was charged to protect—"

"No, no, that's quite enough," I said, ending his inevitable rush of apologies as I had Kurit's. "Now then, you both can hear how truly neither of you blames the other. So right here and now, this awkward wall of silence between you must be gone. I've told you both, there's no guilt to be placed on either of you for what happened. I was the silly girl who went outside alone based on an anonymous note. I was the fool who stepped into darkened shadows when I should have had the sense to know Kurit would never summon me out on a cold winter's night. I was naïve, and I have paid a terrible penalty for that, but both of you did what you could to remedy my predicament. I am proud of you both, and you should be delightedly proud of yourselves and of each other."

Kurit looked to Jarik and said, "Can you believe this scene? My wife is recovering from a horrible crime, and yet her greatest concern is that we do not feel badly for her."

Jarik's eyes were fixed on my own as he replied, "That is because she is a noble woman. Nobler than you or I."

"That's enough of that!" I laughed. "Silly boys, always turning everything into a way to sing my praises. One of these days you'll both go too far and I shall become so arrogant that you'll both despise me!"

"Never!" they both said quickly, in the absurd unison they had so often managed before.

I laughed at them, these two silly, adorable men whom I held so dear. They did not laugh, both still intent on feeling remorseful, but at least they smiled a bit at one another, which pleased me greatly. "Good. That's fixed then," I said. "Now I'm going to feed my son. Go on, both of you. Go be as you were before. I shall enjoy hearing your insults for each other echo down the hall."

They seemed puzzled, so I said, "You know what I mean!" I pointed to them in turn and said, "You're a beastly brat, and you're a noble fool. Now go off and continue that until you both recall what it is to be happy and laugh. I want our old life back from before all of these things happened. I need you both to be the happy, silly boys that I adore. But my son is starting to fuss for his meal, so leave me and go play your boyish games."

They managed to chuckle at each other, though when their eyes returned to me it was still with a dreadful sorrow and concern. I elected to not fret over that, having won at least the first part of the battle. They rose and left together. I could hear them speaking in the hall as they left, though I could not hear what they said.

* * *

Much as I wanted to hold my son in my arms for all to see at Sashken's trial the following day, Kurit convinced me that I needed no additional prompt for sympathy and that Raelik's inevitable noises and cries would be disruptive. I left him thus with his nurse Lyenta and allowed Kurit to lead me to the Great Hall, still wearing dressings on my feet but able to walk short distances.

Only crimes of great importance or particular horror are tried by the King in the Great Hall in the palace. Most crimes are settled in the offices of local lawmakers or in the Temples. Of course, Sashken's attempt to have murdered the wife and unborn son of the heir to the throne qualified for the ultimate formality.

King Tarken and Kasha sat on their thrones, the former schooling his face as always, the latter noticing our arrival and watching me with a nasty glare. Kurit saw the look and stood with his back to her in front of me until the call to be seated came. Kurit bade me sit between himself and Jarik, whose bulk prevent Kasha from being able to look at me directly as our seats extended in a row leading away from the throne stage.

The room fell silent as Sashken was brought in by the guards, shackles and chains on her ankles and wrists. She looked a pathetic sight—haggard, sleepless, distraught, and very guilty. Her eyes found Kurit's, who glared furiously in return. She turned her face away and closed her eyes in shame.

They opened again in startled reaction to the King's sudden booming voice as he recited the charge against her. "Lady Sashken of Kydren, daughter of Lord Sibek and Lady Kayel, you are accused of the crimes of conspiracy to commit murder, payment to assassins, withholding of information sought by the King's Guard, and high treason against this kingdom. How do you respond to these accusations against you?"

Sashken found some remnant of strength, schooled her expression, and loudly proclaimed, "I am not guilty of these crimes." A low murmur swept through the gathered audience of dignitaries and courtiers.

"Very well," the King said. "I call forth those I have approved to speak either side of these charges. Lord Cael of Alesha shall present the evidence against you, and Her Royal Majesty Queen Kasha shall present evidence in rebuttal. Do you accept these persons to present the case?"

Sashken looked to the Queen and said, "I do."

I looked at Kurit. His eyes were turned in his mother's direction, and they held a cold fury. I assumed this was the first he knew of Kasha's volunteering to defend Sashken, as it certainly was the first I'd heard of it. I had not known that Lord Cael had even made the journey, let alone that he would present my end of things. I caught his eye as he rose from the audience. He bowed his head subtly towards me, his face grim.

"Why is Cael doing this?" I whispered to Kurit.

"He cares for you a great deal. I learned of his bid to act on your behalf only this morning. He's clearly partial to you, but he is well respected as an honest and intelligent man. Mother's backing of Sashken, on the other hand, is a knife in my own back," he grumbled under his breath.

"A surprising development, since she is also the 'witness' that Sashken was otherwise occupied that evening," Jarik muttered to Kurit and me.

"I suppose Father allowed it rather than fight her on it," came Kurit's quiet reply. His anger seemed to fade to exhausted acceptance.

"Begin your presentation of evidence, Lord Cael," the King commanded.

Cael called forth first the scribe who had recorded my story and bade him to read it to the court. As he did so, the parts that were particularly awful caused those gathered to cover their mouths in shock, whisper fervently, and even gasp a few times. Many a head turned in my direction, almost always with great sympathy. Sashken remained resolute throughout the tale, though her face was a sickly colour.

At the story's conclusion, a murmuring broke out in the crowd, and I could see several ladies weeping from the ghastliness of it. I had avoided looking at Jarik while it was read, certain he would be upset and I would weep as a result, but now that it was over I glanced to him. His eyes were closed, a combination of anger and sorrow clear upon his face, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. I put my hand over one of them, and he looked at me.

"I am so sorry, Aenna," he whispered. Then he turned his gaze upon Sashken, and a frightening look of hatred took over his features. I have no doubt that, had I asked him to, he would have broken her in half in that moment.

Cael then called a guard to testify, who confirmed that he had witnessed Sashken exiting the front doors to the palace and then returning over an hour later. He also testified that he recalled my exit from the palace because I had asked him if he knew if Prince Kurit was in the courtyard, which he had not.

"I answered that I had not seen him leave but that my duty shift had begun only about an hour before. It was just before the Lady Sashken went outside. Her Highness was very concerned that His Highness must have thus been out in the cold for some time, and she rushed outside. Some time later, I saw the maidservant Leiset run screaming down the stairs and through the Great Hall, and I realized I had not seen Princess Aenna re-enter the palace, and I felt a great dread." The guard looked at me and humbly said, "Forgive me, Your Highness, I should have realized you would not stay out in the cold so long."

I gave him a polite smile and nod. Cael told him to be seated.

One of the gate guards was then called to read records that showed the Lady Sashken had not left the palace grounds by the front gate, indicating that her time outside was spent either in the courtyard or the stables. The records did show, however, a delivery of six kegs of wine just after dark and that the empty cart did not leave for well over two hours. The times as recalled by the guard who saw Sashken and the written records from the gate put Sashken's apparent time in the courtyard or stables as within the time that the cart was also there.

Cael summoned a trembling stable boy to the floor and asked him if he recalled the Lady Sashken entering the stables on the night in question. He did not and said further that no lady had been seen as he worked that night.

Then Cael asked Leiset to come forward. She looked quite uncomfortable, and I felt badly that she would have to stand and speak when I did not. He had her explain the prelude to my being left alone whereby she was summoned to assist Eyill.

"And what did Eyill need from you when you found her in the library?" Cael asked.

"I did not find her in the library. I searched between all of the shelves and called to her, but she was not there. Only as I was about to leave did I notice the door to the tower was slightly ajar. I opened it, and there was Eyill. I believe she had been watching me look for her and most certainly would have heard me calling her name. I asked her why she had summoned me, and she would say nothing other than she no longer required my assistance and thank you. I was rather perturbed at the waste of my time, so I left her there and went to return to the Princess."

"Did you see anything on your way back to the south wing that made you suspicious something was afoot?"

Leiset nodded. "As I approached the south stairs, I saw above me that Sashken was hurrying out of the south wing. That made me wonder if she had been at Her Highness's room, possibly to disturb her." She looked a bit guilty at having said that, and added, "It is my understanding that they do not always get along well." Cael nodded, so she continued, "I ran up the stairs and saw there were no hall guards present, when there had been one at each station when I had left. I returned quickly to Princess Aenna's rooms and saw that she was missing."

"What did you do then?" asked Cael.

"I called to her, and there was no answer. The bedchamber door was still open, as it had been when I left. I looked inside, and she was not there. I went back out to the receiving room to go and knock on Prince Kurit's door, suspecting that he had returned from the Council meeting and perhaps Aenna was there with him. But as I passed through the room I saw a note on the table by the door. I picked it up and looked at it, since it was not addressed to anyone in particular."

Cael asked Leiset to hold her tale there as he produced the note she had found. He read it aloud to the court. "'I am sorry, but I can no longer bear to remain in this palace any longer. I must go very far away and begin a new life for myself even though it makes me cry. I am but a lowly peasant, and the child I carry is not worthy of the throne. I shall raise him or her in good health and to know that their father would have loved them. I am sorry to do this, but it is the way I think things must be.' The note is signed simply, Aenna. What did you do when you read the note, Leiset?"

"I could not believe it. I knew immediately the Princess had not written that note. Though the handwriting was clearly meant to look like hers, I could tell it was not. Furthermore, it is awkwardly phrased, very unlike Her Highness's elegant prose. And she would never leave her beloved husband in such a manner! Even if she would, she would not have chosen to go on the coldest night there had been in weeks. I realized something terrible was happening, and I was filled with fear. I screamed and ran to tell the Prince what I had found. I ran right into the Council room without any thought of decorum and screamed to him that the Princess was gone, that someone had done something to her."

Cael thanked Leiset and bade her to return to her seat. He then called the hall guard whom had been stationed near my door that night. The guard confirmed the part of my story where I said I was going to find the Prince. Not long after, he said a loud noise in the guardroom behind him caused him to leave his post and investigate, as did the hall guard from the other end of the corridor. They found that a box of tools had been tipped off the table, though no one was there. They searched around the corridors but saw no one.

Cael then summarized his belief that Sashken had Leiset distracted away for a suitable length of time, planted a letter for Melly to find and rush to deliver, and waited with the assassins in the dark for the Princess. Then, once she had paid them to take Princess Aenna away, she went back in the palace, hurried upstairs, entered the north door of the guardroom, tipped over the tool box to cause a distraction, then quickly crept into the south wing, delivered the false note, and ran away, not knowing she had been seen by Leiset downstairs.

"Is that all you have as evidence?" the Queen asked, rising from her throne to stand between Cael and Sashken. "Do you seriously accuse this Lady of the Court, a fine, well-bred, and good-mannered girl who has never before harmed anyone, of conspiring to murder? And based only on the word of a peasant and some circumstantial evidence that may or may not place her near an event that could well be a concoction of lies? Plus, I must remind this court, that I, Queen of Keshaerlan, have stated on several occasions that the good Lady Sashken was with me for most of the evening. To believe this ridiculous story is to either fly in the face of logic or to disbelieve my testimony." Her countenance became very dark as she added, "Which would, of course, be foolish."

Kurit bristled in anger beside me. "Don't make a scene," I whispered very softly. "She does have a duty to try to refute Cael."

Kurit turned to me and muttered under his breath, "You are far too forgiving of her."

The Queen went on to point out that, despite current appearances and the arguments of those who supported me, the fact remained that I was a peasant. "What do we know of her background?" she asked. "She's an orphan, and we all well know that orphans tragically are not often raised with the best of morals. She is ambitious, we know that by her marriage so far above her station. However, she is not a stupid girl, and it is my belief that one evening she came to the correct conclusion that she was unworthy of the Prince and sought to leave. Perhaps the timing was ill-chosen out of a moment of the madness that comes from being with child. I assert that she did write the note—and the idea that she writes with more 'elegant prose' than heard in the note is preposterous, given that she has been literate for less than a year. She left of her own accord, only to find herself unable to survive without the luxury to which she had so quickly become accustomed. She then returned, but knowing that the Prince would be angry with her for having left, she concocted this wild story, fraught with unbelievable heroic tales, and sought to incriminate the poor innocent Lady Sashken."

Cael looked at her as though she were insane. "Pray tell, Your Majesty, aside from your good word that the accused spent at least part of a long evening with you, what evidence do you have to support your theory?"

"The girl left him before and did so at that time by a note of sorrow and regret. She has a history of the very same."

"Your Majesty," Cael refuted, "that was before she was wed to His Highness. Surely you cannot expect this court to believe that she would leave her husband and run into the night whilst great with child?"

"And you cannot expect the court to believe that the Lady Sashken plotted to have her murdered, based on the testimony of servants and peasants! Where is this cart with the secret compartment? Where are the men involved? You have produced none of the direct evidence that would corroborate the girl's fantastic story. For all we know she wandered down back to Mikilrun or some such place, had her baby there, then regretted her choice and returned," said Kasha.

Cael pondered for a moment and then asked, "If she left of her own accord so late at night, why is there no record of her passing through one of the gates? She certainly could not have scaled the walls in her condition at the time, and the only other people that left did so on horseback, with no way to have hidden her with them. The records show this. Furthermore, it is quite clear to anyone who looks upon the Princess that she did not spend her time away comfortably giving birth in some town. She returned emaciated and weakened."

"She could easily have put herself in that condition on purpose to lend credence to her lies," spat Kasha. "She is threatened by the Lady Sashken because she knows Kurit would have wed this fine lady in her place. This field mouse is falsely accusing a noblewoman to prevent Kurit from admitting to himself that he chose the wrong bride."

"Are you mad?" cried Kurit, surging to his feet. "Never in my worst nightmares did I even consider the thought of loving her!" he shouted, pointing to Sashken.

"Sit down!" the King ordered, but he was drowned out by Sashken, who lost all control and began to screech wildly.

"That's not true! You loved me! You loved me before she came!" she screamed to Kurit. "I was to be your wife until this little harlot came and bewitched you against me!" The Queen turned a dangerous eye to Sashken, but before she could counsel the hysterical young woman to be silent, Kurit spoke over the cacophony.

"In what fantastical dream did you concoct such a notion?" Kurit asked, his arms spread wide in incredulity. "At no time did I even like you! I pretended to be interested in other women just to make you stop following me around! I tried being subtle, I tried being direct, I even cast you naked out of my chambers when you tried to seduce me before my wedding!" This last declaration sent the gathering into a flurry of excited babble and prompted King Tarken to rise and call loudly for order.

When the noise had stopped and Kurit had once again taken his seat, the King asked Cael and Kasha if either of them had anything further to add. When they did not, he sat back down.

"I am ready now to give my judgment in this matter. In light of the overwhelming evidence supporting Princess Aenna's tale and the lack of substantial evidence against it, I find the Lady Sashken guilty of the charges against her."

"You cannot do this!" cried Kasha.

"Enough! I can and I do. She has stood here before us and madly accused the Prince of loving her, though he quite clearly denies it. I have no doubt that her madness in this almost cost the life of Princess Aenna and her unborn child. So, Lady Sashken of Kydren, daughter of Lord Sibek and Lady Kayel, for the crime of conspiring to murder Princess Aenna and the unborn Prince Raelik, for the crime of payment to assassins, for the crime of withholding of information sought by the King's Guard when you knew what had happened to the Princess and did not speak to it, and for high treason against this kingdom in the attempt to kill the wife and child of the heir to the throne, I sentence you to be hanged this very afternoon."

As a buzz of noise swept the gathering, Sashken fell to her knees and cried out for mercy. Kasha echoed the plea as well.

"I might have been convinced to show you mercy had you simply ordered the Princess be taken away, or had she not been with child at the time, or had you redeemed yourself by admitting to us what you had done, that we might have found her sooner. But you acted with cold, cruel intent. I have no doubt that if I spare you now, your madness will lead you to make another attempt on the Princess's life. In the interest of the safety of the royal family and because you showed no mercy yourself, I deny your request. You shall be hanged as I decreed."

She screamed as the guards lifted her away. Kasha stared at me with a look of death wish in her eye, and it chilled me. The King had waived off her testimony as insubstantial, which I knew she would consider a personal slight with me at fault. The crowd rose to disperse as the King retired to his workroom.

Lord Cael approached and said, "Your Highness, I was so relieved to hear that you had returned alive and bearing your child in your arms, no less."

"Thank you," I said. "And thank you for what you have done here today. It can't have been easy."

"Good lady, it was my honour to serve you. I wish only I had been able to do more. I understand why you were reluctant to seek my help in Staelorn, though I regret that you did not know help awaited you there."

"I knew you would have helped me without a second thought, Lord Cael. It was everyone else in Staelorn that I feared. I am sorry I did not come to you."

He nodded in understanding, spoke briefly to Kurit, and took his leave.

"Please help me upstairs," I said to Jarik and Kurit. "I am very upset and wish to be out of the public view." They each took an arm and supported me all the way to my chambers, where I started immediately to weep. Jarik turned me into Kurit's waiting arms.

"Hush, Aenna—why do you weep? Sashken is being punished as she deserves."

"I know," I said, "and I am glad your father did not spare her. I could not suffer her the chance to strike at my son in the future. But I have caused the deaths of two people in this unpleasant event, and though both deaths may be excusable or just, I cannot help but feel badly."

I felt Jarik put a comforting hand on my back as I wept in Kurit's embrace. "You know these things are not your fault, Aenna," Jarik said. "True justice would see the men who abducted you and those who sold you pay the same penalty. You are a good woman for mourning those who have caused you harm."

"I don't mourn them. I wish only that none of it was necessary."

I did not go to witness Sashken's hanging. It was bad enough I kept seeing the blue face of the man that I had killed in my nightmares; I certainly did not need to add the image of a woman being hanged. Kurit went to witness it while Jarik stayed with me in my chambers. When Kurit returned, he said simply, "It is done," and then poured himself a drink.

* * *

In the days that followed, I noticed Kurit had developed a habit for the drink and seemed to require several before retiring for the night. At first I suspected it was a temporary way of dealing with the great stress of the trial, for which he was still furious with his mother. Soon, though, it became clear that he was becoming dependent upon it. I decided to speak with him about it before the problem got out of hand.

I entered his chambers one morning to find him already pouring from the decanter on his mantle.

"Is that not a bit early, Kurit?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, this?" he said, looking at the drink in his hand. "It's just a little bit, Aenna. It's nothing."

"Is it also nothing that you drink every night before bed? I smell it on you when you come to my bed to hold me."

"Oh, Aenna, really, it's not every night. Sometimes I'm still a little wound up over everything, and it helps me sleep. I was drunk a good deal of the time you were away, you know. Really drunk, because it was the only way I could pass out and not have to feel so wretchedly miserable. But since you've returned to me, I have stopped that. Honestly, Aenna," he said with a slightly nervous laugh, "you make it sound as though I couldn't stop."

"So stop then. I don't want you to get in the habit of needing it every night." I tried to sound concerned and not as though I was nagging.

He gulped down the remainder of the liquor in his glass and set it aside. He walked to where I stood and embraced me. "Don't fret, my good wife. I just need a little more time to put it all behind me."

We sat down beside one another. He smiled—looking as though he were trying to produce his old carefree, roguish smile—but it was clearly forced. He was trying to appear stalwart for my benefit, but I was not so blind that I could not see that he still suffered from guilt over my abduction.

"Kurit, I love you. It hurts me to know you still ache inside with remorse. I see through your smile. I see how you drink to dull your pain. You have to get over this."

He looked at the floor, the fake smile gone. "How do I do that, Aenna? How do I tell my own heart to stop feeling the pain of almost losing you yet again? How do I convince my mind that there was nothing I could have done to spare you that ordeal? A man should be able to protect his wife."

"Brooding over it now does not help me. It makes me suffer with you. Instead of feeling guilt for not being able to protect me or rescue me, why can't you just be pleased and proud that I was able to rescue myself?"

He rose and bade me to do so as well. Then he embraced me tightly, sighing and kissing my head as he held it in his hands. "I am proud of your strength. I always have been. And believe me, the fact that you are here safe with me is much more important than how you arrived. But I can't help wishing I had been man enough to have the strength to seek you instead of mourning you. Even if I hadn't found you, I should have been looking instead of crying like a child. I am not a man, Aenna. I'm a stupid boy, and what little courage I struggle to demonstrate is less than a thousandth of what comes to you naturally. That is hard to reconcile."

"Kurit," I said, pulling back to look at him and forcing his eyes to stay with mine. "You are a man! You mustn't keep questioning your masculinity this way. My strength as a woman does not negate your worth or strength as a man. These things should be complementary to unite us, not something to set us apart."

I decided perhaps the time had come to remind him of his masculinity by enticing him to make love with me. I kissed him softly, brushing my tongue against his lips in the fashion that used to make him moan in delight. He returned the kiss kindly, but without arousal of any observable sort.

"Aenna," he said softly after the kiss, "I know what you're trying to do, and I love you for it. Your words make logical sense, but logic has little effect on emotion. Please understand that this is no fault of yours, but I still feel... emasculated. I need time. I'm sorry. I shall try to be less melancholy, but I feel too undeserving of your passion to be aroused right now. Forgive me. It's not that I love you less or desire you less. If anything, those feelings are stronger than ever before for the threat of almost having lost you again."

He kissed me gently on my lips and then on my forehead. "I love you so much, my Aenna," he whispered, holding me so tightly that I could feel his pounding heartbeat against my shoulder. "I love you more than anything, and I need you much more than any man ought to ever need anyone. Please, just give me more time to put my mind back together. I shall be fine in time. And I shall quit the drink before bed, and in the morning as well. You're right about that. You're right about everything, actually, but at least that much I can accomplish for you right away."

His acute heartache was infectious, and I wanted to weep in his arms. I forced myself not to, though, fearful that it would only add to his burden. Instead, I made myself smile and asked, "Will you come and walk with me in the gardens? I shall bring our son, and we can take turns holding him as we walk. It's a lovely day out, and I truly think that the sun and fresh air would do you good."

He nodded sadly, and we went to fetch Raelik from his nursery.

### Chapter 14

OVER THE NEXT week, Kurit seemed less distant and more in control of his faculties. Other than wine with dinner, I did not see him take any liquor. I was somewhat suspicious when he stopped coming to my bed to hold me every night, but on the two occasions that he did, I smelled not the slightest hint of alcohol on his breath. If he slept poorly for it, I did not notice.

Then one evening shortly before bed, there came a soft knock at my door. It was Gilrin, and he looked worried. I panicked, thinking immediately that something awful had happened to Kurit.

"What is it?" I asked quickly.

"Your Highness, I come to speak to you though I fear I betray my Prince in doing so," he whispered. "I have but a short time, for I told him I was running a brief errand."

"Then quickly, what is it you have to tell me?"

"His Highness has taken to hiding small flasks of alcohol throughout his rooms. The maids find them in his clothing and between his mattresses. I have seen him myself slipping them behind books on his shelves. He drinks constantly, Your Highness, and then washes his mouth or eats odoriferous foods immediately thereafter, repeating this all day long. He was drunk when you were gone, but that was understandable, and he was so drunk that all he did was sleep. Now he spends his time just on the edge of drunkenness—taking just enough that his emotions are drowned but he can still manage to function.

"I would not even betray him by telling you this but for my concern that he will injure himself. By evenings, he has reached a state where he can almost always walk and move well but will occasionally stumble. I fear he will take a spill down the stairs or otherwise harm himself. Last night he went walking around the castle walls. Though it is quite safe to do so normally, I am greatly worried that his semi-drunken state might cause him to lean over the edge and fall, likely to his death."

I was stunned. How could I be so unaware that things were this bad?

I could not let the poor manservant see me panic. I schooled my expression and said, "Gilrin, thank you for telling me this. I won't tell Kurit that I found this out through you, so don't worry about his retribution. And you have not betrayed him in this. As you have said yourself, there is a concern for his well-being. You have done him a good service in bringing this to my attention, and I thank you again. Now go, before he notices you have been gone too long."

Gilrin nodded and left quickly.

I could not imagine what to do next. Kurit was clearly already caught in an addiction that neither promises nor words of reason could defy. The next day, I suggested to him that we take our little son to the royal cottage for a few weeks. I knew that going there would allow me to be with him almost all day and night, and since we would share a room, he would be unable to hide a secret supply from which to sip when my back was turned. I thought perhaps if he went without the alcohol for a week or so, he would realize that he had a serious problem and be better able to cut himself off.

When I approached him with the notion of taking some time away, he had a thousand excuses. His father's health was beginning to fail more often, leaving Kurit with more administrative responsibilities. It was too early in the season, he said, and would thus be too muddy. It would be too much of a hassle to take such a small infant out there. On it went—no matter how many solutions I provided, there was always another reason. Clearly, he knew he would be unable to maintain his lightly drunken state, and I suspected the idea frightened him.

He stopped holding me at night altogether, which upset me further. I didn't know if he did so because he knew I would discover his drinking, or if he still felt that sense of emasculation. Either way, he began avoiding me, and my heart ached for his suffering and my inability to do something about it.

To add to my frustration, I had to deal also with the fact that Jarik had taken to shadowing my every movement all day and then standing guard outside my door at night. I discovered the latter when I was unable to sleep and would creep to the nursery to check on Raelik. There Jarik would be standing, brooding in his unnecessary guilt. I told him every time to go to bed, and he would nod at me in acknowledgment that he had heard, but then when I would leave the nursery, he would still be there. I could not imagine when he was finding time to sleep, for when I would leave my rooms in the morning he would still be there. The only times he was absent was when I was with Kurit, and those times were becoming fewer and fewer.

Oh, how these men and their wretched guilt and fragile sensibilities irritated me! It was almost as if they had rather I had awaited their rescue in Wusul or parked myself under a tree in Taeten until one of them happened by. I was sympathetic to their concern at first, but as the days and nights passed and there was no cessation to their brooding, I began to feel anger and resentment that they could not see me as an independent, living being instead of their precious jewel to protect.

One night I found myself unable to sleep as these notions remained in my mind. I rose and went to the outer door where, sure enough, Jarik stood, leaning a shoulder against the wall. His face was lined with weariness, though his eyes were alert.

"All right. This has gone far enough, Jarik. Come in here—I have things to say to you," I whispered harshly into the hall.

He paused for a moment, and I thought perhaps he would refuse. Then, with the countenance of a child who knows he is about to be held accountable for mischief, he entered my receiving room.

I indicated that he should sit, and when he did not I ordered, "Sit down, Jarik, before fatigue makes you fall." I disliked the sound of my voice when I issued such commands, but I had learned there were times when some people needed to be forcibly instructed for their own good.

I remained standing before him as he looked at me uncomfortably. "Now hear me well, Jarik," I said. "I cannot handle this. I have an infant to care for. I have a husband who is half mad with his own misplaced guilt, and the other half of him is drunk. I simply do not have the energy nor presence of mind to deal with another tortured soul.

"My abduction was not your fault," I said, issuing each word as a distinctly clear proclamation. He turned his face away from me, no doubt telling his own mind that I was wrong in that. "Don't turn away from me and dismiss my words!" He looked at me again, and I continued. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't Kurit's fault. It was terrible, but I'm home safe now, and all of this ridiculous guilt and overprotection will not change the past.

"I understand you feel an obligation to protect me, Jarik, and believe me, I appreciate that. It means a great deal to me. Your presence pleases me, and I truly feel safer knowing that you are near. I know without one doubt that, had you been in the courtyard that night, you would have saved me. But we were not so fortunate. I was very foolish to have gone out alone. I promise you here and now not to repeat that mistake. I swear to you that I shall never leave the safety of the palace without first telling you in person where I am going, for what purpose, and when I shall return. That much I owe to you as my Champion, and I shall not break my word.

"I tell you this so that you will no longer stand outside my door as you have been. I know you do it to prevent me further harm, which is very sweet, Jarik, but look at your face! When do you sleep? I see you there at all hours of the night and there again when I leave in the morning. You follow me all day long, and then the next night stand there again.

"Think for a moment, please! If you watch over me day and night without rest, you shall inevitably become ill. I care not how mighty and strong you imagine yourself to be, for you are still human and still require sleep. If there does come a time when I am again attacked or in danger, how can you protect me if your mind and body are slowed by great fatigue? If Sashken had a co-conspirator, they would no doubt lie in wait until you reach that state for their next strike, and then you truly fail shall me.

"Furthermore, I simply cannot bear the thought of you being ill over me. It's bad enough that I have to deal with Kurit's madness in this. Don't force me to have to handle yours as well."

I paused, and when he said nothing in response, I shifted my tone from scolding to pleading.

"Please, Jarik, I'm asking you as a friend not to drive yourself to madness over this. You do me no service in torturing yourself. Stay by my side throughout my days if that is what you feel you must do. To be honest, I'm glad of your presence, for you are very dear to me. But do not stand outside that door night after night. Sleep in your bed, that you may better be able to handle what should come the next day."

I went over my words in my mind, wondering if in my rambling I had forgotten anything. He stared at me blankly, and I worried that he was ignoring my words as surely as he ignored my nightly directive to go to bed. Then he looked away, and there came from him a great sad sigh. I took his hands in mine, and he rose, so I embraced him. For a moment he did nothing but stand there with my arms wrapped around his waist, but then he seemed to give in to emotion and held me protectively.

In a voice so quiet I could barely hear him, he whispered, "You are wiser and stronger than anyone else alive, dear Aenna." I stepped back to look at him, and he put a gentle hand to my cheek. His gaze was so loving that my heart fluttered for it. "You are right," he said, still quiet but not in a whisper. "I do you no service if I am exhausted and distracted by remorse. Forgive me that I failed to see that. I have been a fool as of late—that much is apparent to me now. I swear to you, I shall endeavour to be present for you as a confident protector and not one who adds to your worries. I can do that. It is time to put the past where it belongs and pay better attention to the present and future.

"I am troubled that you have suffered so because of us. I have been too concerned with my own remorse to notice his and what we were doing to you. Please forgive me that as well. I see by your face that you do," he said, for I was smiling at him. He displayed a small smile himself and said, "I suppose you must forgive me, or else I shall have to feel guilt all over again, and then you'll have to present me with another lecture."

I chuckled briefly and laid my head against his chest as he embraced me kindly again. "Thank you, Aenna, for showing me this better path. I can be the friend on which you lean for support and not one who saps your strength. I want to be that friend for you. It would be my greatest honour to be needed by you."

"I do need you, Jarik," I said. I peeked up to see him smiling genuinely, albeit with fatigue, which eased my mind a great deal. "I'm so glad you have heard me well. Now if only the same speeches would work on my husband..." I sighed.

Jarik gave me a little squeeze and stepped back, taking my hands in his. "Give me a day or so to rest and put my head in order. Then I shall speak with him."

"Don't tease him, Jarik. Don't whack his head or call him a brat or any such thing. This drinking of his is very serious. He pretends that he does not do it and hides it from me. When I have been able to get him to admit that he does it, he promises to stop but does not. If you scold him, he will likely be angry and ignore you, and I cannot bear to see a rift form between you."

Jarik nodded. "I shall speak to him seriously, as one man to another, and offer him support instead of jesting insults. Try not to fret about it. I'm sure that between us we can manage to end this unfortunate trend."

I went up onto my toes and kissed his cheek fondly. He smiled again, as he always did when I kissed him so. He caressed my cheek briefly, then said goodnight, and went finally to his room. I waited for some time and then peeked into the hallway; he was not there.

Happy that I had managed to communicate meaningfully with one of them at least, I went to my bed to sleep.

* * *

The King summoned me to his workroom about a month later and showed me a letter that had just been delivered. I recognized the Wusul script and had been learning to read it, but my skills were as yet insufficient to decipher it fully. King Tarken summarized it for me.

"It is an official apology from the High Ran, their King. After hearing your story, I sent a messenger with a strong warning that further abductions or purchases of Keshaerlans to be used as slaves will not be tolerated. I also mentioned how closely this Ran Kei-Galu came to starting a war by imprisoning you and intending to kill my grandson despite the fact that you clearly identified yourself to them. I've just received this reply. The High Ran may be a barbarian, but he's not stupid and does not wish to see war. He apologizes for the behaviour of Kei-Galu and apparently intends to strip the family of their land and ensure any Keshaerlan slaves are set free."

"From that one house, or from all of Wusul?"

The King smiled and wagged a finger at me. "Ah, Aenna, you see that clever omission as well. Very good. I suspect he means from that house, though I cannot accuse him of otherwise by the way he has worded it. Such is the nonsense of politics." King Tarken coughed uncomfortably. "Pardon me," he said afterwards. "I think I'm catching a cold."

"So does what does this letter mean in the long run?" I asked.

"At the moment, nothing. It's a finished matter. I know that hardly seems fair to you."

I shook my head. "I don't wish for you to march over them for what they did. Not since I managed to survive it."

He coughed again, his face turning a little red. "Oh, pardon me again." He cleared his throat a few times and continued. "Aenna, rest assured that had they killed you or little Raelik, I would have sent the full forces of this kingdom against them, with or without an apology. And not just because I care for my family, but because your deaths would threaten all of Keshaerlan. I have but one son, Aenna. If he lost his mind from your death—which clearly he would have—there would be no proper heir to my throne. That sort of upheaval could split the nation apart or at the minimum cause generations of feuding between the noble families. Furthermore..." He began coughing again, unable that time to bring it under control.

Hurriedly, I fetched him a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner. He managed to take a sip, but still sputtered.

"I shall fetch Tash, Your Majesty!" I said as I ran from the room.

Jarik was there in the Great Hall, of course, since he knew I was with the King. I shouted to him to run and bring Tash to the workroom right away, and he did so without pausing to question me on it.

I went back into the room to find the poor man hacking, his face a horrible shade of purple. He held his hand to his mouth, and I saw a trickle of blood between his fingers. I took my clean handkerchief from my dress pocket and put it in his hand. I moved my hands on his back in an effort to calm his spasmodic muscles and tried to speak soothing words.

Finally the wretched coughing tapered off, and he slumped in his chair. He groaned, and I continued to rub his back. Eventually he sat up, his face red and sweating.

"Aenna," he croaked, "I don't think that it's just a cold after all."

Tash burst into the room and quickly took over everything, as was his wont. I was shooed away with Jarik.

Later that day Jarik, Kurit, Kasha, and I were summoned to the King's chambers. Tash was there with him as the King explained to us that he was very ill.

"Tash suspects that I have growths in my lungs, perhaps elsewhere as well. I have tired easily for some time now and not felt as strong as I was in my youth. I had thought it old age, but it would seem that my days are numbered."

The others were stone-faced and did not react, so I forced myself to do the same. Still, I felt myself tremble and knew if I spoke my voice would certainly shake with my dismay.

"This means the next few months will be a time of change for all of you," the King said. "You will help each other and rely on each other. That is very important to me."

"How long?" Kasha asked without inflection.

"Two, maybe three months," Tash replied. "Now His Majesty needs his rest. Visitations should be kept short."

"Pah!" King Tarken said. "These are my last days! I'll spend them with my family. Aenna, Tash has assured me that my illness is not contagious. I would be very pleased if you brought Raelik to me often."

"Sire," Tash said quietly, "you should not waste your energy on the infant."

"Waste? You're wise but still a fool, Tash. My grandson pleases me, and I am relaxed and happy when I hold him." Then he began to cough again, so Tash shooed us all away.

I did as the King asked and brought Raelik to him almost every day. He spoke to the infant as though Raelik understood him. Usually I stayed nearby, lest the King should tire and need me to take my son away. But other times he told me to leave them be. He would wink at me and say he had secrets to share with his grandson.

Almost two full months later, I sat reading in the library one afternoon. Jarik came in and took the seat beside me. He gently took the book from my hands and closed it.

"Aenna, it is time. The King won't see the sun set today."

I felt anguished pain seize my chest at the news. I put my hands to my face in shock and sadness, though I had known this time would come. Jarik put a gentle hand on my arm and said, "You must go to him now and fetch Raelik on your way."

"Are you not coming?"

Jarik shook his head. "I spoke at great length with him this morning. His time is short now, and I've already wished him farewell. Go, Aenna. There are things that he wishes to tell you."

I rose and hurried to the south wing. Raelik was in his nursery with Lyenta. I scooped him up and went to the King's chambers.

When I arrived, Kurit and Kasha were already there at Tarken's side. As always, the otherwise stoic King's face lit up at the sight of his grandson. His arms reached weakly towards the little Prince as he said, "There's my strong little man! Come, Aenna, let me hold him."

I put Raelik in his arms. and he held him close. "What a fine young boy you are, Raelik," gushed the King. "Indeed, a strong little one with a fat, happy smile." King Tarken looked at the rest of us and then said to the baby, "Look, Raelik, look how grim their faces are. But not you, little one. No, what a happy smile you have for your old grandfather today! That delights me." He tapped the child's nose playfully with his finger and said, "This happy little face is the image I shall hold in my mind when I go. You show them how to smile, little one."

The old man tried to lift Raelik towards me, but his arms were too weak. I quickly lifted my child from him.

"He will bring you such joy, Aenna. I am very grateful to the Gods that I was allowed to live long enough to know and love my son's family."

Raelik called out a happy gurgle at the attention, making Tarken chuckle.

"Precious, he is. Now, I have things to say to each of you in turn. Kurit, Aenna, please wait outside while I speak with my dear wife."

On my way out, I looked at Kasha. She stood tall, stately as ever, but in her eyes was a great sadness. Despite all that she had said and done to me, I felt an ache for her.

Kurit and I sat in the receiving room after closing the door behind us. "Your poor mother," I said quietly. "I can't imagine how horrible it must be to lose her husband."

Kurit sighed and rose from his chair. I was not surprised, knowing well by now his penchant to pace when upset. He stopped to stare at a painting of a Penklin sunset, the colours of the sky bouncing over the ocean's waves. He looked at it as though he were actually staring into the distance and said, "It's worse than you can imagine. Everything in you dies when you lose the one that you love. There's the pain of it, but worse is the hole that's left in your life. Their empty chair. Their wardrobe full of clothes that won't be worn again."

He broke his eyes away from the painting and looked at the floor. I thought for a moment he would weep, but he took several deep breaths to avoid doing so. "And then you catch sight of some small thing. The carefully kept clip of a wedding veil. Worse, the little blue glass figurine you bought her one day just because you knew it would make her smile."

He was reliving his grief at thinking I was dead, and a few quiet tears managed to escape his eyes. He brushed them away in frustration and struggled to compose himself. Then he looked at me and tried to force a smile. "Sorry. I know you're here and safe and well, and I know further how it makes your heart ache so to see me sad and weak like this. But the memories of those weeks are still awfully vivid, still hideously real. I keep waiting for them to fade, and they had only just begun to do so. Now my father's impending death has brought them all back in every detail."

Kurit went to the small stone table in the corner that held glasses and several decanters and poured himself a drink. I sat in awkward silence with a gurgling baby in my lap. I looked at Raelik, and indeed his little chubby face was still happy as ever. I envied my son his innocent obliviousness.

Kurit stared at the wall, sipping his drink. I chose to maintain my silence, for what does one say when one's husband is experiencing the angry sadness of losing his father? Words of sympathy become trite and meaningless in their overuse during such times. Words of comfort inevitably fail. Everything else is merely an awkward attempt around those choices, and obviously so. Also, I had not realized he was still so acutely suffering my absence. It made everything worse to know that.

In time, Kasha came out of the King's bedchamber and indicated that Kurit was to go in next. He did, leaving me alone with his mother, who sat opposite me. She sat in silence, glaring at me with unabashed malevolence.

I ignored her for some time, though it was difficult to feel that angry gaze upon me. I decided to try to be kind in the hope that she would finally let her hatred go.

"I know there is an animosity between us," I said softly, trying not to let my voice waver. It irritated me that she could still make me nervous. "But truly, I feel nothing but sadness for your coming loss. I humbly extend to you my deepest sympathies."

It was as though I had spoken to a white stone statue. Her pale face did not so much as move at my words. Her thin lips were pressed together tightly, and her eyes held their same cold fury as she continued to stare directly at me.

Kurit soon came out looking more composed than he had when he went in. I was unsure whether his father had spoken inspirational words, or if the alcohol had just finally taken effect. He sat down, and I put his son in his lap to go and see the King myself.

As I closed the door quietly behind me, King Tarken bade me to come sit by his side. I sat on the edge of his bed as he indicated.

"I did not call you last because you are the least important, Aenna. Quite the opposite. You are the most important person I have to speak to before I go.

"I told Kasha that it was my deathbed wish that she cease her torment of you. I do not want to peer upon mortals from the Everafter to see you bound in anxiety over her anger and insults. I gave Kurit what fatherly advice I could and told him to be strong for his mother, wife, and son. But I do not have to tell you to be strong, Aenna, for you have always been that. And it is because of your strength that I say this to you now: my kingdom is left in your hands.

"I have no doubt that Kurit will manage well in the day-to-day undertakings and duties. And he has a good head for the lords, knowing which one responds well to what sort of persuasion. But he has not yet recovered from your abduction, and I fear my death will make him worse. He turns too quickly to the drink. You must help him to stop that before he loses control completely.

"It will be you that will best handle the crises when they arise, for though you are quick to anger, you usually have the sense to calm yourself and try to be rational. You shall of course support Kurit, but do not be afraid to act of your own accord when need be. My kingdom needs your strength, Aenna. Come, take my hand and lean closer. I am tiring, and this is important."

His face was ashen, and the hand I enclosed between mine was cold. His breathing was shallow, and he fought to keep his eyes open as he continued. "Aenna," he whispered, "I foresee great things for you. Your outspoken passion can serve you well if you use it when necessary and keep it hushed when not. Don't battle over trivial matters. Save it for the monumental ones. You will be a great Queen; of that I have not the slightest doubt.

"But for your own peace of mind, good Aenna, please don't allow the pathetic prejudices and insensitivities of others to hold meaning for you."

He sighed and shuddered awfully. There was such a great lump in my throat that I could not speak. I tried to leave his side to fetch Tash, but the King held fast to my hand with what little strength remained in him and said, "No, stay. I have only moments to tell you this. Aenna, I see your legacy written in the hands of the Gods. You will be a woman of legend. Believe in your own ideas and see them through with every ounce of strength that you have. Show my son the way to greatness."

I wept for him already, trembling as I clutched his cold hand. His eyes fluttered, and with his last breath he struggled to say, "And know, Aenna, that in my heart..." He did not finish. A final cough racked his body, and then he was gone.

I knew it was too late, but I could not help but pitifully whisper, "What? What is in your heart?" I brought his dead hand to my cheek and made as though he were caressing me. My tears fell into his palm as I lowered it back to the bed. I kissed his sweet cheek, wondering if his half-opened eyes still saw me there. I realized that I had not had a chance to tell him at the end how I adored him. He had faded too fast, before I could utter the words. My tears fell on his face, and I gently brushed them away before finally summoning the others.

They came in and saw him there, dead. I could not bear to stay. Raelik would be fine in his father's arms, and I could not bear to cry before them. I ran out of the King's chambers, down the hall. and right into my own. I did not even speak to Leiset as I ran past her and went straight through to my bed, where I threw myself like a distraught child and wept. The more I wept, the worse I felt, for he had charged me to be strong and there I was crumbling pathetically.

I could hear Leiset sobbing in the next room, as I had not closed the door. Then came the announcements around the palace, people of every station calling out, "The King is dead! The King is dead!" The sound of them threatened to drive me mad, so I put a pillow over my head to silence them.

After some time—perhaps ten minutes, perhaps two hours—I felt someone sit on my bed beside me. I felt a strong hand on my back, caressing my sob-sore muscles. I thought it was Kurit and was quite shocked when I lifted the pillow from my face to see Jarik there.

"I must look an awful sight," I said.

He did not speak. He simply reached his hand to my cheek and with his thumb brushed away the tracks of my tears.

"Where are the others?"

"I don't know. They're not my concern."

I moved to sit up beside him. I rubbed at my wet cheeks and eyes, trying to compose myself. My throat and head hurt.

Jarik rose for a moment to take a clean handkerchief from my dressing table and hand it to me. He sat beside me again. I could not look at him.

"You should be concerned for Kurit. He's your cousin and best friend."

Jarik sighed. "Kurit's best friend is in a bottle. I have spoken with him several times, but as you warned me, he denies it and hides it, as though he were hiding a lover."

I put my face in my hands and sighed.

"Oh, Aenna, that was stupid phrasing. I didn't mean—"

"No, I know you didn't. But that's precisely what it's like."

"I'm doing a fine job of comforting you, aren't I?"

I leaned over and let my head rest on his shoulder. "You are simply speaking of a truth that neither of us can control. I'd rather hear that from you than patronizing lies. So, what's to be done now then?"

"There will be a memorial service, and then the King will be entombed at the royal crypt just outside the city. Then you and Kurit shall be crowned."

"And what's to be done with Kurit? His father asked me to stop his drinking. How in the name of the Temple do I do that?" Fresh, fat tears dribbled down my cheeks as I felt an acute sense of failure.

"I don't know. Perhaps his new role and responsibilities will force him to evaluate his behaviour and stop himself. I don't know what else to—"

Jarik's words were cut off by a sudden, loud tolling of bells from every direction. I clamped my hands over my ears in shock.

"It is the bells in the towers," he shouted over the din. "They are rung when the ruling King or Queen has died to spread the official word."

I immediately thought of my poor infant son and how the sound must terrify the child. I ran out of my chambers with Jarik close on my heels. I was in the nursery in a matter of seconds, assuming Kurit would have brought his son back there. Sure enough, Lyenta was trying to soothe the poor child as he screamed from the noise. I took him from her and sat in a rocking chair with him, holding him to me and covering his small head with my hands. He howled all during the chorus of ominous bells and for some time after.

Jarik stood in the doorway the whole time, watching us, a look of dismay on his face.

* * *

There was no formal dinner in the Great Hall that night, nor would there be until a new King sat on the throne. I was told dinner would be brought to my room, but I made sure to inform the maid not to bother to bring me any food, as I felt too awful to eat. I suspected I would not be the only one in the palace who lacked appetite that night.

When I had dressed for bed, I knocked softly on the door between my bedchamber and Kurit's. I heard him mutter something that may have been an invitation to come in, so I opened it. He sat at his dressing table with his back to me, a glass in one hand and a decanter in the other. The decanter was almost empty.

He caught my eye in his mirror. "Don't complain about this, Aenna. Tonight I need it."

"I understand, Kurit. I didn't come to nag. I came offering and seeking comfort. I thought perhaps I would stay with you here tonight."

He lowered his head and muttered, "I'd rather be alone."

I was certainly in no mood to press the issue, though the thought did enter my mind to remind him of his many promises to never again leave my side when I had returned from the abduction. Instead, I turned and went back to the door.

"Besides," he grumbled after me, "I don't see what you're all upset about. He was my father, not yours."

I stopped, stunned at his awful words. I turned back to him. His head was still lowered, almost planted in his glass. "I still cared for him!" I said, aghast. "He was the closest thing to a father that I ever had. I can't believe you could even say something so cruel to me, Kurit."

I turned again and was halfway through the door when I heard him call to me. "Aenna, wait." I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was standing and facing me now. I turned around in the doorframe to look at him. "I'm sorry," he said, looking very weak, like a wilted plant. "It was cruel. I'm just so..." He shook his head, his eyes closed in tired anguish. "You were there, a convenient target. I'm not upset with you, and that was really wrong of me to say. I'm liable to be this way all night. That's why you should leave me alone. It's not that I don't want you with me, it's just that I can barely handle this all myself. If I feel weak enough to lean on you or worse, feel as though I'm too weak to have you lean on me, Aenna, I just can't take that right now. You should go, before I say something else that I don't mean."

I nodded, turned, and left, closing the door softly behind me. I jumped when a moment later I heard the sound of glass shattering in his room. It sounded as though he had hurled his glass against the stone of the fireplace. I considered going back to make sure he was all right, but I knew Gilrin would already be there doing so, and my presence might make him feel worse.

I sat at the foot of my bed. I wanted to grieve for the King, but I feared the sound of my crying would disturb Kurit further, and I so wanted to be strong for him. I decided to go somewhere where I would not be heard, and the only place I could think of was one of the towers.

I left my rooms, and in doing so recalled that I had promised Jarik never to go off somewhere without telling him in person first, lest I be discovered missing. I went quietly down the hall to his door and rapped softly. I knew he wouldn't hear me if he were sleeping, and for once I wished he wasn't so stubborn about not having a manservant. He felt strongly that a warrior should be able to live alone and care for himself, and any manservant who had been assigned to him in the past had found himself locked out every night.

Just as I began to walk quietly away, the door opened, and there he stood in dark cotton pants and an unlaced shirt.

"I barely heard you," he whispered.

"I didn't want to wake you."

"You didn't. Come in."

I let him take my hand and lead me into his receiving room. "I just came to tell you I'm going up to the tower. Leiset is asleep, and if she finds me not in my bed she'll assume I'm with Kurit. But I promised you I would never disappear somewhere without telling you."

He nodded in thanks and asked, "Why are you going to the tower?"

"I just need to have time to grieve, and I don't want Kurit to have to hear me. He's very upset, and I won't burden him further."

Jarik closed the door. "He won't hear you in here. There's no need to go up to the tower. It's cold and dark up there at night. You'll find little comfort there."

"Jarik, you are good to me, but I cannot bear to burden you, either. I did not come seeking an invitation to stay."

"I know that. You would rather suffer alone than let me comfort you. You're like a man, Aenna, the way you try to keep your emotions hidden. But it is no burden to me to comfort a friend who has lost a loved one. And to be quite honest, and likely less the man for admitting it, I could use company myself. I loved him as a father, too."

He embraced me as my tears began to spill. After Kurit's spiteful words, this man's arms were a welcome comfort. I laid my head on his chest and cried into him as he cradled my head in his hand as Kurit once had. He moved to the couch, and I followed in his arms. There we sat in each other's arms well into the night as we quietly grieved the loss of the good King.

### Chapter 15

KURIT'S DRINKING EASED somewhat after we were crowned as King and Queen of Keshaerlan. He still seemed to require it in order to sleep, but new tasks to occupy his mind kept him sober more so than any words from Jarik or myself. Kurit attacked every responsibility head on, determined to focus on anything other than his own emotions.

Unfortunately, his more frequent sobriety did not return him to being the husband I had known before the abduction. Nowhere to be found was the jovial, adorable man who had teased me and easily expressed his love. He became irritable when interrupted, especially when I was the interruption. I suspected the sight of me reminded him of the emotions he was endeavouring to push aside.

I was determined not to be childish and weep over him. I had a son to care for who adored me and never failed to grant me a chubby little smile and happy giggle when I took the time to play with him. I clung to Raelik's love as a pillar of strength against all that threatened to depress me.

Kurit's quest to become buried in work led him soon to take on responsibilities that were not his own. He began taking records I was to maintain from what was now my workroom. When I would question him on it, he would mutter that he was able to handle it and not to worry myself.

It was tempting to view his actions as a slight against my abilities or intelligence, but I knew better. We both knew that I was more than capable and intelligent enough to do what I had to and more. His mad quest for administrative duty was not sufficient to make me doubt myself as perhaps I would have before we were married.

Instead, he found enough other ways to jab at me with small slights and insults, all in a clear effort to keep me away. His ensuing apologies for these comments became less and less common.

I could have put myself into my rooms and wept, but I was not about to do so. I thought, Fine, let him behave so. I shall go out to the city, and when he misses my presence long enough, he shall come to me. I shall not indulge his little games of Poor-Tortured-King.

So I took to walking about the city with Jarik and, at my Champion's insistence, a few guards. I had not spent much time in Endren before. It was a lovely city with great houses that had elegantly carved columns and carefully arranged little front gardens. Being out of the palace allowed me to clear my mind and forget that Kurit brooded within its walls.

Those walks seemed good for Jarik as well. I caught him many times smiling at me when he thought that I could not see him. I'd catch a glimpse of his reflection in a window, or I'd turn about quickly and there he would be, looking at me with a happy fondness. He became my dearest friend, and I knew that I could count on him for anything. Looking back, I realize I knew then that he was in love with me, but I chose to ignore it for the obvious complications of such a thing.

Within a few weeks, I began to realize Jarik and the guards were always finding ways to steer me clear of the eastern end of the city. Whenever I asked why, one of them would provide a vague, often illogical excuse and then try to redirect my attention elsewhere. Not wanting to cause a public scene, I played along for a few days.

Then one afternoon as we set out, I began to walk due east. Jarik tried several times to direct me north or south, but I politely refused, as though I had not noticed this strange little dance of diversion.

Finally, he said, "Aenna, we're not going that way."

"Why not? What's there that you don't want me to see?"

"That's not a particularly pleasant part of the city, nor is it safe for a lady."

I laughed. "You'll recall that I have only been worthy of that description since I married Kurit. I have not become fragile behind these nice dresses, Jarik. I'm quite sure I can deal well with whatever lurks in that direction." I tried to walk east again, but he held my arm to stop me.

"It's not safe for you there, Aenna."

I looked at his sincere face but refused to let him dissuade me. "Well, if it's so very dangerous then you had better accompany me." I snapped my arm out of his grasp—which I knew I was only able to do because he allowed it—and continued on my way. I was determined more than ever to discover what I was being shielded from.

It is broad daylight after all, I thought to myself. There are no political upheavals brewing of which anyone is aware. People in the city seem generally happy, so what reason would anyone have to harm me, knowing full well that it would be their own death to do so?

Jarik ran to catch up with me and walked closely beside me. I glanced at his face—oh, he was angry! But he focused his anger to be watchful of all that was around us instead of wasting his time arguing with me. The guards also became more alert and ran to surround me.

As the streets wound around the buildings, I saw them quickly go from proud homes and businesses to run-down hovels and seedy-looking establishments. I slowed my pace, aghast when we reached the far east end. There, the shacks were actually piled on top of each other. They were built right up against the city wall, making use of every available space. Old men sat in the shadows, some begging. Harried-looking women chased after ragged children. Merchants called to sell their small stocks of wares, which seemed of passable quality, but few people were buying. Infants cried in the arms of old women who stared into space.

The entire area had the wretched smell of decay and waste, and it was only the typical eastward-bound winds that removed the smell away from the rest of the city. Wherever I looked there were people, crowded together, either busily working at apparently fruitless endeavours or, having given up, sitting and staring at me with sad eyes.

I had seen poor people before—I had been one myself—but never in such a miserable state. Poor farmers tending their fields, poor travellers come to beg to sleep in the inn's barn, and even poor merchant families with ragged children had been common to me in the past. But this sight of filth, decay, and degradation was more wretched than anything I had beheld before. I felt very spoiled and naïve standing there, watching them.

"Aenna, this is not a place for you," Jarik said, trying to turn me around that we might return to the nicer parts of Endren.

"How can this exist?" I asked. "How can this fine city have such squalor? I have been poor but never like this. Who are these people that they are allowed to live like this?"

"They are the servants, the drudges, and their families. They are the merchants who never make it to wealthy success. They are the city poor, Aenna. And it is not safe for you to be here."

I flashed him a look of fury. "Oh, Jarik, really! Look at them. Do you see a hand raised in anger at my presence? They would no sooner harm me than slit their own throats." I turned back to those who were looking at me curiously and saw them return to their work or idleness.

"This is utter nonsense," I said, storming back towards the palace. Jarik and the guards scrambled to catch up to me as I wound my way back through the twisting streets. I walked briskly in my anger, soon to stomp up the palace stairs into the Great Hall and directly through it to Kurit's workroom.

My husband sat at his great wooden desk, deep in thought over a records book. My abrupt entrance startled him, and I began speaking before he could distract me with a condescending comment.

"What in the Temple's name is that disaster in the east end of this city? How long have people lived there like that? Why can't I see that from the palace? Is it shut out of view intentionally so that the so-very-beleaguered nobility will not have to trouble themselves with the awful sight? How can you allow your people to live like that?" I shouted.

The door closed behind me as Jarik entered. I ignored him. Kurit was too stunned to reply, so I continued my barrage. "I won't hear any excuses in this. It is abominable that we have such filth and poverty in the capital city of all places! There is no reason for it. How can you all sit comfortably by and pretend it does not exist?" I turned to Jarik. "And you! All of this time you have escorted me around this oh-so-fair city, deliberately keeping me from learning about that area. You knew that I'd be horrified, didn't you? How could you keep something like that from me?"

My voice shook with bitter outrage, and I looked back and forth between them. "You both grew up and live now in your precious palace, adorned with elegant clothes and so handsome in your expensive armour. But what kind of man fills his belly every night while he allows people to suffer not a ten-minute walk away?"

"Aenna, that's enough!" Kurit shouted as though I were a belligerent child. He had risen from his seat, his white-knuckled hands leaning on the desk. "What would you have us do, move all of the poor into the palace? You're being ridiculously oversensitive."

"Oversensitive?" I repeated in fury. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, for having a heart for someone besides myself! Of course they can't all live in the palace. I'm not suggesting anything of the sort, but thank you kindly for insinuating that I'm a stupid woman lacking any sense."

"Well, that's how you sound, marching in here and making these wild declarations!" Kurit shouted back.

"And what would you have me do? Forget them? Ignore them? Go and play in the gardens and pretend all is well outside these walls?"

"The poor make their own lives," Kurit snapped. He sat back down and grumbled, "If they want to better their situation, let them go ahead and do so. Nobody is stopping them."

My fiery anger halted as my heart was frozen by his words. "Is that so?" I said coldly. "Splendid, Kurit, just splendid. Did you ever even listen to me, back when we used to actually speak to one another? Did I somehow fail to demonstrate that being poor is not equivalent to laziness? Is this what you're saying now, that I was a barmaid because I lacked the tenacity to improve my situation, until the great Prince came along to sweep me into his lofty palace?"

"Aenna, no one is accusing you of anything of the sort," Jarik said.

"Perhaps not myself personally, but others like me. I could have been one of those people there, you know. Had you not taken pity on me when I first arrived, I would have gone to work in this city, and no doubt, having been penniless, I would have been one of their numbers today. When you dismiss them, you dismiss me."

Kurit leaned his head on his hands in frustration, eyes closed. "I never pitied you, Aenna. I loved you."

I stared at him for a moment, my heartbeat so loud that I wondered if they could hear it. "How interesting that you say that in the past tense."

Kurit slammed his fists on his desk. "Curse it, Aenna, that's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I know nothing any more, Kurit, except that I could have been one of those that you condemn as unworthy of your assistance," I said quietly, turning my face from them both. "You used to be delighted to see me. Now I am but an irritation. And today I am an irritation bearing unpleasant tidings. I am so very, dreadfully sorry to have disturbed your busy day, Your Majesty."

I went to the door and left before I had to hear his reply. I bustled through the Great Hall to the corridors of guest rooms. I heard Jarik following me and ignored him until I had reached the steps to the southeast tower.

Without even turning to face him, I said, "Leave me be. I'm furious with both of you to know that if I had been anything other than a young and pretty maiden when we met, I would be contemptible now in your eyes." I began climbing the steps to the tower and did not hear him follow me.

When I reached the top landing, the guard on duty stood to immediate attention. I tried not to sound angry as I said, "I wish to be alone. Go now. You may return when I leave."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said as he complied immediately.

I had never before been to this tower, only to the south-western one, from where the east end of the city could not be seen. I moved one of the wooden chairs to the eastern window and sat there, looking out at the city. The poor houses and run-down shops were made mostly of wood, whereas the other buildings were made largely of white stone. The drastic difference made the area look like an unpleasant stain. I cursed myself repeatedly for not having known of this before. I could not fathom how I had been so ignorant and naïve.

Everything about the area looked cramped. As the city had grown within its walls, it appeared that no space from the wealthy areas had been sacrificed. Instead, the poor were squeezed in tighter and tighter, until now it looked as though entire families had to live in single rooms. How could they possibly be expected to make anything of themselves if they lived like that? How could the nobility fathom that anyone who had to struggle just to survive would have the time to educate themselves or reach for higher goals?

It was all quite ridiculous. There was so much empty space outside the city walls, but of course there the people would be easy prey for thieves and other ruffians. Further, if many of them were employed as servants, as Jarik had said, then living outside the city walls would mean long walks to the gates and then through the city, back and forth every day.

I thought of poor Melly, who was so kind and dedicated despite her slow head. I wondered if she lived there. Did she have to walk through that stench every morning and evening? I knew the palace servants were paid a fair wage, but it seemed there was no middle ground in the city. Certainly she did not go home to one of the elegant, white stone houses with their pretty little gardens.

How did they expect her to better her conditions? How did they expect any of the poor to do so? There was no room to build—that much was clear. I had witnessed myself the hard-working merchants, but if those around them could not afford their wares, all of the effort in Keshaerlan would make no difference.

I had a flash of inspiration. What they needed was the entire area to be rebuilt. If those merchants were the family of the servants, then between them there should be sufficient wage to live decently. But if the merchants could not derive sufficient profit from selling only to the lowest class, it was the upper classes who needed to be attracted to their market. The upper classes had no desire to be in such a squalid, crowded, smelly place. But if the area was cleaned and rebuilt, perhaps that would attract a more profitable group of buyers. Then the poor families would be able to have sufficient income to not have to live in such poverty.

The entire plan flooded into my mind. The city walls simply had to be extended to allow for more room. Then, the old wooden shacks could be torn out and replaced with proper housing. A whole market could be built, where all manner of merchants could decently display their wares and better attract buyers of all classes. And if the merchants made money, then their families would have more money to spend themselves! All that was needed was an initial investment, and I believed that elementary economics would take care of the rest.

Furthermore, if the whole area was restructured with more room and better roads, sewage and waste could be properly disposed of, as it was throughout the rest of Endren. Plus, a more open area would be easier to guard, so it wouldn't be as unsafe as Jarik had claimed the current area to be.

It wasn't a lack of work that kept many of the poor down in the gutter. It was a lack of the necessary space and means to succeed. If I could give them the space and the means, then I was confident everyone would benefit. Even the wealthy merchants who held their shops in the rest of Endren stood to benefit if these people had more money in their pockets to spend.

I heard a noise behind me and turned around. There stood Kurit, looking at me with an odd expression. I turned away from him again, hoping he would leave rather than find new ways to tear at me with his words.

He came and stood behind me, looking over my head, out of the window. "It is wretched, isn't it?" he said quietly.

"I am ashamed that I did not know of it before today," was all I could say in reply.

Kurit was quiet for a few minutes, and his proximity behind me forced me to sit stiff in the chair, lest I should shiver. Then he put a hand on my shoulder, and the shiver came. He raised his hand from me for a moment and then set it back on my shoulder again. "Has it been so long since I have touched you, that my touch makes you shake so?" he said softly. I did not answer. He put his other hand on my other shoulder and bent to kiss the top of my head. "I do love you, you know. It hurts me greatly that you should think otherwise."

"And what would you have me think, when you spend every moment buried in tasks of your own and mine and whomever else's, always avoiding me, shooing me away with nasty words when I force you to pay attention to me?" I continued staring out of the window, though I was no longer looking at anything. "I am not your wife, Kurit. I am your burden. I am not so foolish as to not see that."

He slipped his arms down to embrace me about my shoulders, putting his head beside mine. Kurit kissed my cheek and held me tight. His breath on my neck tickled me, but I was not amused and sat very still. "Aenna, that's not true," he whispered. "Don't say such things."

I slipped out of his arms and moved to stand at the other end of the tower, facing him. "It is true. First the bottle was your mistress, and now it is your books and records and writings and meetings. What's next, Kurit? In what diversion will you bury your pain next?"

He did not answer. He stood quietly, his hands on his hips, looking at the floor grimly.

I sighed. "Why do I waste my breath? My opinion means nothing to you. You still drink yourself to sleep every night, then rise to hide away the hours in your workroom. The sight of myself or your son does not please you—it disturbs you. I don't know whether it's because you're afraid if you love us then we'll disappear, or if you are so lost in your world of self-torment that interruptions of our reality threaten you."

He looked at me and said simply, "The first one, I suppose."

His candour surprised me, and I could think of nothing else to say.

Kurit sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He chuckled sadly and said, "Absurd, isn't it? I close you out of my life for fear that you will be out of my life." He slowly crossed the landing to me, and despite my frustration, I let him embrace me.

"I had nearly forgotten what this felt like," I said.

"Forgive me. I can no longer count the ways that I have failed you."

"Oh, stop it, Kurit," I said, stepping back from him, out of his arms. "Stop finding ways to pity yourself. You're not a poor man without resources, and you're not a stupid man without the wit to make your own decisions. Stop brooding about the things in the past that you cannot change, and start making the changes in your present that will give you a better future."

He turned and walked back to the east window, gazing out of it. "And them? Those that don't have the resources? What would you have me do for them?"

"I have some ideas. I would discuss them with you, if you wished to hear my thoughts."

Kurit pulled the chair by the window slightly off to one side, and then fetched another and placed it nearby. He looked to me and extended a hand to one of the chairs. "Sit with me. I want to hear your ideas. I want to hear your voice."

I nodded and sat with him. I summarized my earlier thoughts and plans, pointing out the window to indicate how vast a space there was to work with. He listened intently, looking at me with a tenderness in his eye that I had not seen since I had recovered from my trek from Wusul.

When I was finished, he thought in silence for some time. He took my hand in his and stared out the window. The light of day was beginning to fade into the oranges and reds of the sunset in the opposite direction. The bottoms of the clouds reflected the colours magnificently.

"Your logic seems sound," he finally said, "but I don't know that I'll be able to convince the tax-paying lords that their money should be spent on the poor. It would cost a fortune to bring in so many materials, to hire such a labour force.

"There are unemployed men in Endren, in those streets," I said. "And what if I could get those who lived there to agree to help build it, for their own betterment? I could find the best price for the stone possible. The quarries are largely unused in these times, and I know I could bargain with their owners. Besides, the costs would be recouped in a more profitable city for everyone. And if it's taxes they're concerned with, remind them that the destitute do not pay taxes. If all of those people down there had the chance to earn a decent living, they could contribute back as is right."

"There will still be beggars, Aenna. There will always be those who are incapable of earning a wage or who chose to be lazy and not do so."

"Of course. But many of the people I saw struggling this afternoon weren't incapable, nor were they lazy. They were working, despite knowing they would be unlikely to take home a profit today. I have no desire to save the lazy. I wish only to give those willing to work the chance to do so for a decent living."

He nodded. "Good, then. Look into it further. Come up with a solid plan and a proper budget, with confirmed prices and costs. We'll present it to the Council together. If they approve, you can go ahead."

I smiled, delighted to suddenly have something worthwhile to do and ecstatic that Kurit had said 'together'. I threw my arms around him happily, pondering for the first time in many months the possibility of a good future for us.

He pulled me into his lap and held me. His hand reached up to touch my cheek softly, and then he kissed me. It had been so long since he had shown such affection that my heart raced and my skin tingled.

"Will you come to my room tonight?" I asked.

He did not answer but kissed me again, which I took to mean he would. We went back down the tower steps, hand in hand. I felt so giddy I actually had to resist the urge to skip like a young girl as I walked to my chambers when we finally parted.

He smiled at me frequently during dinner and even leaned over once to kiss my cheek. The public affection caused a small stir amongst the others present. I caught a glimpse of Kasha, sitting on his other side. She had remained mostly out of sight since the King's death, and I was glad of it. After this kiss, her face became hard and bitter. I decided to ignore her.

Jarik did not come to dinner, and I felt guilty for having been so cross with him before. I went to his chambers afterwards and apologized to him. He was quiet, but I did not think he was upset with me so much as the unpleasant situation. I told him I was working on a solution, and that seemed to cheer him somewhat.

I bathed with prettily scented bath salts before bed and put on my most revealing nightdress. I positioned myself on my bed in what I imagined to be a sensual pose and waited for Kurit to come knocking.

Time passed, and no knock came. Eventually, I rose and knocked on his door. There was no answer, but it was not locked, so I entered.

There was Kurit, sleeping in his chair, still wearing the day's clothes. On the floor under his right hand a glass lay on its side, and on the table beside him sat an empty decanter. I shook my head sadly at him as he snored.

I went back to my rooms and changed into something more respectable. Then I returned to Kurit's rooms and summoned Gilrin.

"Help me get him changed and into bed," I said, and he did. Kurit did not so much as stir, even as we dragged his corpse around the room.

* * *

The next day Kurit looked at me sheepishly as I passed him in the corridor, but I was too frustrated to let myself be duped into another promise of affection. Instead, I began my planning and preparations for the large project I was about to undertake.

I found Jarik waiting for me, a grim look upon his face. I apologized again for my rudeness the day before.

"No, Aenna, I'm not upset with you for that. As you so frequently tell me, stop apologizing. I'm simply less than pleased with the idea of you being in the east end of Endren."

"Then I suggest you learn to be comfortable with it, Jarik. Come—I must go there now," I said as I started on my way. He began to protest, but when I made it clear I was going with or without him, he grumbled and followed me.

On our way, I gave him a summary of my plans. He seemed unconvinced but said nothing. When we arrived at the east end, I said, "I have to speak to the people now, to see if this is something they want. I'm obliged to ask them before I go tearing apart their homes and businesses, after all."

"Aenna, we shouldn't even be here," he began, but again I walked away from him. I approached a merchant who had several wooden crates piled behind his stand and asked if I could borrow one. He appeared surprised by the question but immediately said that I could.

I put the crate on its tall end in the centre of the shoddy marketplace. Jarik was beside me with the strangest look on his face. "Help me up," I said, putting my hands on his arm and stepping up on top of the crate. I balanced on it rather well but kept a steadying hand on Jarik's shoulder.

"Aenna! Get down from there! Are you mad?" He put his hands around my waist to lift me down, but I brushed him away.

"I'm fine. Don't you dare lift me away!"

"This is not a game, Aenna! That crate could break, and you'd fall! Someone could throw a knife at you or fire a bolt at you up there! I can't shield you. Now get down before you're killed!"

I looked at his serious face and tried not to laugh. A curious crowd had gathered around our little spectacle and was watching us intently. I held my arms out to them all and loudly asked, "Well, then, are any of you considering killing me? My good Champion fears one of you shall try. I'm here to speak with you about a massive undertaking that I believe will bring great improvement to your lives, so really, killing me at this moment is not in your best interest."

Those gathered were now very quiet, which attracted even greater attention. Soon I was surrounded by a large and curious crowd, none of whom seemed to have the slightest interest in striking me down.

"Do you see, Jarik? Just because they're poor does not mean they're violent." I turned back to the crowds. "Now then. This way that you live in these terrible conditions, it's ridiculous. There's not enough room for so many people."

A young man who stood near me shouted, "You're not going to make some of us leave, are you?"

Before I could respond, two of my guards were upon the poor man, dragging him away from me. "Stop there!" I commanded. "He did nothing wrong. Why are you handling him that way?"

One of the guards stated simply, "Majesty, he questioned the Queen's words."

"No, he did not," I said incredulously. "He asked the Queen a question, and a valid one at that. By the Temple, do you attack every poor man who speaks out in defence of his home? I'll have none of that! Let him go at once."

The guards let the young fellow go and stood aside. He seemed a little shaken but otherwise unhurt.

"The answer to your question, good sir, is absolutely not. I have no intention of forcing anyone to leave. My plan is quite the opposite, in fact. I wish to rebuild entirely this end of the city. I wish to expand the city walls, tear down these old wretched buildings, and build new homes in their place. There shall be a grand marketplace that the nobility will not be afraid to enter. The whole area will be more open, like the rest of Endren, to allow the guards to better prevent thieves and other miscreants from their sordid doings."

A woman with a child in her arms timidly said, "Forgive me, Majesty, but we cannot afford such improvements. We shall have to leave after all."

I smiled at her. "No, you misunderstand. You shall not pay for this. I shall."

Murmurs of disbelief overtook the crowd, and several shouts were called out that the Council would never approve such a thing.

I regained their attention and said, "Don't worry yourselves about the Council or the funding or the design and materials for now. That shall be my duty. What I require of you first is approval. I won't march into your lives and tear down your homes if you believe my notions to be flawed. I do not wish to be a source of consternation. Secondly, I need from you all a commitment to work with me. The Council certainly will not approve an enormous budget that includes an external labour force. I will need men to drag stone and build walls and homes. I will need strong women to pack and move belongings. I need you all to help in this.

"Now, I shall give you a week to discuss and debate this issue amongst yourselves. In seven days, if you wish me to go ahead, send three of your number to represent you and bring ideas of what will be needed. One should be a merchant, one should be a woman, and the third should be someone known as a leader amongst you. I want to have every consideration raised so that you all can live better for it. If you have any questions in the meantime, appoint a single messenger to bring them to me. Do not be afraid to ask what you need to know."

The crowd began to chatter excitedly as I stepped down from the crate. I returned it to the merchant who had loaned it to me. Jarik and the guards escorted me out of the east end, and as we went I heard shouts and calls of "Praise to the Queen!" and "May the Gods bless you, Good Queen Aenna!" I could not help feeling a swell of pride. I knew this plan would work. I could feel it in my heart.

We were no sooner out of sight of them when Jarik put his hands on my shoulders, stopping me, and angrily said, "Are you mad?"

"What do you mean? Kurit has already heard the plan and he said—"

"I care not for your plan nor its legitimacy, Aenna. What you did back there was very foolish!" The man was furious. "Standing before those people like that, inviting them to kill you on the spot! What in the name of the Gods were you thinking?"

"Those people are no threat to me, Jarik!" I retorted. "Those are my people! You will do well to remember that I share a background with them, and they are all aware of it. The attempt on my life came from a woman of nobility, one of your world. Even the threat from Daufrae came not from the poor but a nobleman. I feel safer amongst rabble who call praises to my name than I do in the midst of the quiet hatred and cold stares of those who held Sashken dear."

I stormed away from him, but he had had quite enough of my tendency to do so as of late and grabbed my arm to stop me. "I can't allow you to go off and be hurt by the one in the rabble who disagrees with you."

When I glared at him, Jarik sighed, and the angry look on his face faded to one of concern. "Aenna, usually you are very wise. Forgive me for saying it, but in this you are being foolish. Yes, most of those people would not dare to harm you and likely have no desire to do anything of the sort. But you know yourself that there are some poor who are poor because they are not of sound mind. All it takes is one of those slow-headed half-wits to do something rash, and you could be dead. Now, it's my duty to protect you, and I can't do that if you're determined to leave yourself openly exposed."

I sighed myself, knowing that he was right. I had been so enthusiastic that I had wanted to push aside any threat or chance that the plan would fail. "I'm sorry, Jarik," I said. "You're right. I should not have mocked you as I did. Will you forgive me?"

"I care not for what you said. I care only for your safety."

I put my arm in his as we walked again. "What if I were to wear armour?"

"Armour? Aenna, really," he said disapprovingly.

"Yes, really. What's wrong with that?"

"It's unbecoming for a lady. Oh, I know, you'll tell me you're not like the other ladies, and I know it well. But I don't think you realize how difficult it is to wear armour. It's hot, heavy, and uncomfortable."

"You wear it day in and day out, Jarik. I'm sure I could manage a few hours per day."

"I've been wearing it since I was a boy. And I'm twice your size."

"Then you have to wear nearly twice the weight. If I had armour made for myself, it would be much smaller than yours. And it need not be full armour. A vest of hard leather will do."

He looked at me in earnest. "Leather armour might protect you against an awkwardly thrown blade, but certainly not against the bolt of a crossbow or someone lunging at you with a knife."

"And your chain mail would be insufficient protection against bolts as well."

"First of all, that's not entirely true, and second, you're missing the point. The purpose of armour is to be a last wall of defence for a warrior, not protection in and of itself. It's meant to keep you reasonably unhurt from a blow that you've already attempted to deflect. The only armour that really gives any protection on its own is heavy plate, and you simply wouldn't be able to bear wearing that. You'd be unable to stand upright with that much metal about you, and even if you could, you'd surely cook inside it. I am made weary myself by wearing it and have only ever done so as training. It's meant for men who are storming a fort or castle, not for Queens out on the town."

We had arrived back at the gate to the palace. I stopped him and stated, "Jarik, I am not going to stop this plan, and I am not going to manage it from the background where I cannot even behold with my own eyes how it unfolds. Now you're trying very hard to frighten me away with talk of brutal weapons and unpleasant armour, and I understand that you do so out of concern. But the fact is I am going out there again until a threat makes itself known. So you can either help me and recommend what sort of protection I ought to be wearing, or you can run yourself ragged trying to drag me back to the palace day in and day out."

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. As he considered my words, I watched his ever-attentive eyes dart about as people passed us on all sides. I had no doubt that he was acutely aware of every movement around me, always ready to leap between me and danger.

Eventually he said, "I suppose we could have a breastplate made for you. That ought to deflect any direct blow and give you some protection against being crushed or otherwise injured from an impact. But that won't help if someone aims for your head. I still do not like the idea, and you do of course realize this will give Kasha and those who disdain you more fodder for their bitterness."

I nodded. "I know, and I care not for their opinions. I shall take your advice and wear what you suggest. And, as compromise, I shall ensure I am at all times surrounded by several guards, all of whom will be specifically trained and instructed to watch for any suspicious movements. You shall be at my side at all times as well. Furthermore, I promise to be responsible and not to go running off into a crowd alone or any such thing. That provides me with several layers of defence and still allows me to do what I must. And I'll even promise you now that if someone should try to harm me, I will cease to make a personal appearance out there and instead manage everything from behind these walls," I said, pointing to the palace.

He nodded slowly. "Agreed," he said. "But only if you promise to let us protect you. Aenna, it drives me mad to chase after you as I did today. I can't concentrate on watching those around you if I'm too busy trying to ascertain where you are yourself."

"I promise," I said, smiling at him. I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek just before we entered the gate.

"And don't do that out here, either," he said. "It starts rumours and..."

"And what?"

A look of concern was on his face as we went up the steps to the main doors. When we reached the top, he leaned close to me and quietly said, "And I cannot properly concentrate after you... after you do that."

I stopped in my tracks, feeling a slight blush rise. He took my arm and said, "Come inside. In these walls we are close friends. Outside we are Queen and Champion."

I let him escort me to my workroom. When he left me alone there, I sat for some time with a fast-beating heart and a thousand thoughts of what to do about him. It was clear to me that I could not condemn his obvious affection, for I needed and cared for him too much. He had not done anything untoward, nor had he ever behaved with anything but nobility and honour. Yet clearly he had feelings beyond those of a friend and had to feel some degree of the sadness of unrequited love.

Although, to be truthful, it was not entirely unrequited. He was, after all, my dearest friend, and I loved him as such. I knew very well that any attempt to discuss this with him would embarrass him and no doubt cause him to become distant. I couldn't bear that thought. So, I selfishly decided to push the issue from my mind and go on as his friend, hoping that he would have the sense to rid himself of whatever affections burned in his mind.

* * *

A young boy, surely no older than ten, was sent to me several times over the next week bearing questions from the people of the east end. He had difficulty remembering all of the questions the first time, so I assigned an apprentice scribe to meet with the peasants and write their questions down for them.

Many of the questions were born of worry, and I answered them kindly with reassurance. It bothered me that these people thought the nobility were so eager to take advantage of them, but I understood their hesitations well. There were other questions, some particularly insightful ones that I had not considered. These, too, I answered, and as I wrote I had another scribe copy for my own records every document that went back and forth.

When seven days had passed, I was informed that a company of three ragged folk, claiming to have been invited, had asked to see me. I had the guards usher them into the Great Hall, where I sat on my throne to hear them. I had wanted to appear less imperial and meet with them in my workroom, but Jarik would not allow it. He feared that one of them could use the opportunity to harm me and insisted that, until I had worked with them long enough to know them well, I was to meet only in public, surrounded by guards. Of course, he stood right at my side, eyeing the three carefully.

There were two men and one woman. The woman's name was Oana. She was a mother of two small children, and her husband had died two winters previously of a fever that I learned had killed many in the east end. She worked one day a week as a maid in a nobleman's home, only on the night that his usual maid was not working. Oana had about her that roughened, tired look typical of peasants, but her eyes burned with sufficient wisdom to understand her lot in life was brutally unfair. I liked her in an instant.

One of the men was named Nikal. He was a merchant of clothing, but said he could not earn a decent living trying to sell quality garments in the east end and thus had been reduced to selling recycled rags that his wife tailored to the best of her ability. He was tall and thin, with oddly long fingers that he tapped together whilst in thought. I could tell he doubted that an improved marketplace would help him, but he was polite and interested in giving the plan a try.

The other man, Druin, was an absolute delight. He had the natural charisma of a leader, and had he not been born into a poor family and subsequently orphaned at the tender age of eight, he surely would have been a well-respected nobleman. He was uneducated, as were most of these poor folk, but what he lacked in schooling he made up many times in a knack for logic. He was tall and thin like Nikal but much more handsome. Druin was one of those men who never fails to make those around him laugh with odd little jests and a winning smile. He reminded me a great deal of what Kurit had once been like, and the thought saddened me. But the good fellow made it difficult to stay melancholy, so I set aside my heartache and set about planning the expansion project.

As the season passed from fall into early winter, I met frequently with Oana, Nikal, and Druin, and it was not long before Jarik could be persuaded to allow us to do so in my workroom. I also went on several day-long trips outside Endren, with Jarik always at my side, to inquire about various materials. I met with two different quarry owners, both of whom were willing to bargain for a good price on the white stone. My prediction was correct in that there had been little call for it in recent years.

I buried myself in my work as eagerly as Kurit drowned himself in drink—a habit that had not waned after all, and one he no longer bothered to hide from me. During this time, I became aware that his mother often badgered him where I was concerned. I overheard snippets of conversation in which she would lecture him on how he should better control my wild ways and my "ridiculous predilection for throwing money away to the wretches of Endren".

Occasionally, he would tell her to be quiet, but more often than not, he said nothing. Meanwhile, his increased frustration with her led him to become cold and distant towards me. I made the choice to not brood over what seemed to be a dying marriage and instead applied all my energy to being with my son and working on my project.

By the time of the mid-winter semi-annual Council meeting, I had a full plan ready to present. I had budgeted for materials, skilled labour, and every other cost I could imagine. I had a specific timetable that provided allowances for minor delays such as inclement weather. I thought I was prepared for every possible question or doubt that the Council would have. I was sadly mistaken.

I sat quietly through most of the meeting, not wanting to raise trouble on any other issue, lest I anger one of the lords and lead him to vote against me later. When Kurit finally indicated that I might go ahead with my presentation to them, I had barely begun when the immediate prejudice against the poor made itself painfully clear.

"Most charitable Majesty," said Lord Bresh of Odlok, "while we respect your noble intent to help these pathetic people, surely you cannot expect us to approve any extensive building that benefits them alone?"

"Indeed," said Lord Kalren of Estebek, nodding. "We all pity their situation, but to waste money on such people is not in the best interest of Endren, let alone the entire nation."

"Is it better, then, to do nothing while people in our very capital struggle needlessly?" I asked.

"No one disputes that it is a tragedy that some are born into poverty, Your Majesty," said Lord Kiene of Asune. "But if you give a dog too many thick steaks that he has not earned, he will become disobedient and no longer be satisfied with just a bone."

I looked at him incredulously. "Lord Kiene, these are human beings, not dogs."

"Majesty, that line is a blurred one at best," said Bresh.

It took all that I had not to burst out in anger. How could such otherwise intelligent men be so absurd? I forced my voice to be low and unwavering as I said, "I am aghast that you would dare to say such a thing, Lord Bresh. Tell me, do you have your maids tied up at night to prevent them from running away?"

Bresh rolled his eyes at me, infuriating me anew, but again I forced myself to remain calm. I knew I'd have no chance of winning them over if I became hysterical. He said, "Majesty, of course not. But copious amounts of money will not inspire these people to better themselves."

"She's not talking about simply throwing money at the problem, Bresh," said Lord Cael. "Perhaps if you would do Her Majesty the courtesy of allowing her to at least present her full proposal to us, you would better be able to discuss the matter."

"Well, at least we know you're not biased, Cael," said Kalren acidly. "You northerners have the oddest notions about how to run a nation. I hear you pay for physicians for the poor in Staelorn and the training of orphans in Academies instead of workhouses."

"Don't include me with their plans," Kiene quickly said.

The Council quickly broke down after that into petty territorial bickering until Kurit shouted over them to be quiet. "Enough! Let Aenna have her say; then we shall discuss the feasibility of her plans."

After that rough start, I found I had to work diligently at sounding confident. I made eye contact most often with Cael, who favoured me frequently with subtle smiles and nods. Lady Aelwin also listened politely, though most of the others seemed ready to scoff.

As I concluded, I steadied myself for the inevitable onslaught of disapproval. To my great delight, Chancellor Kren spoke up with admiration and interest. "It's high time someone did something about the east end," he said. "Even if your notions of a better market fail to come to fruition, at least the greater space will make it easier for the guards to keep an eye on things. Crime in that area has become unmanageable. And I am glad to hear that you have planned to build the new wall before tearing down the old. That is a wise course."

"Chancellor, I respect that you wish to improve your own city, but I cannot understand how you expect us to pay for it," said Bresh. "Kordolos needs improvements as well. We have a poor area, and I don't see anyone rushing to fix it

"When my plan is proven successful, Lord Bresh, I would be delighted to help you all apply it to other cities as you see fit," I said eagerly. "It would please me greatly to do so. This is not solely for the benefit of the poor of Endren. This is a proposal to bring opportunity for prosperity to everyone in Keshaerlan. As one city is improved and the local economy with it, we will be better able to afford improvements to the next city, and so on to the next. I'm not requesting charity. I'm requesting the chance to help these people help themselves."

"What makes you think they'll take the opportunity?" asked Bresh. "We all know very well that the poor are poor because they lack the wit and desire to work for a proper living."

My blood boiled, but I bit my tongue.

"Think carefully about what you say, Bresh," Cael growled. "Your words border on treason."

"Treason?" asked the Odlok Lord. "To speak the truth that the poor make their own lot in life? Pah! You're only defending this nonsense because you're partial to a fellow Aleshan."

Cael thumped his fist down on the table. "A fellow Aleshan that you would have formerly dismissed as witless and lazy, by your prejudice."

Bresh's face changed as he realized that he had forgotten my background. He looked to me and said, "Your Majesty, surely you know that I don't include you in that description."

"You may not have intended to insult me personally with your condemnation, Bresh, but your easy dismissal of the poor as stupid and worthless does burn my ears," I said, keeping a level voice despite my yearning to scream at him. "A twist of fate allows me to be here in this room with you today. It is as possible for a poor woman to be intelligent and hard-working as it is for a nobleman to be petty and foolish."

"Agreed," said Aelwin. "There will undoubtedly be those who take unfair advantage of the improvements, but those who work hard deserve the chance to do so profitably. I would like some time to better study your budgets and projections, Majesty, but I will say now that I approve of the idea in principle."

"Which is why these meetings were better off in my father's time when women were excluded," grumbled Bresh.

"Very good, Bresh," said Kurit in a mocking tone. "In the space of half of an hour, you have managed to insult Maellans, the poor, all women, and my wife in particular. Would you care to make your day complete and tell me next that I'm a fool for supporting her plan?"

Despite the problems Kurit and I were having in our personal lives, I wanted to kiss him right then for his words. My anger left me. I caught Cael's eye at the other end of the table, and he smiled as though he knew how much Kurit's words had meant to me. I wondered if he was aware at all of our unstable relationship.

Bresh muttered an annoyed apology to Kurit and the rest of us. I could see that there were still others who remained unconvinced, and it was hard to tell whether those who had not spoken were for or against my plan.

A call was made for a vote to give preliminary approval to the plan, pending further study on the details. I sat breathless as those around the table each in turn indicated "yes" to approve the plan or "no" to deny it. Chancellor Kren quickly said, "Yes," followed by Kiene and Kalren's votes to "no." Cael of course made good on his promise to always support me, and the otherwise quiet Lord Mishkel voted "yes" as well.

I was not surprised when both Oddotok and Bresh put the count to four against and three in approval. Maekol tapped his fingers on the table in consternation, clearly struggling with the decision. Finally, he said, "Yes," and Aelwin and Fontden followed suit. Kurit and I of course both added our votes of "yes," though I was already delighted to realize that our agreement wasn't even needed to win. The total thus came to eight in approval and four against; a doubled majority!

When the meeting ended shortly thereafter, I realized it was quite late at night. After gathering my papers together, I took them to my workroom. I saw Kurit's door open on my way out, so I peeked inside.

He was drinking. It occurred to me that he had gone without a drop for several hours and might very well have prevented himself from having any before the meeting as well. I hoped he would not be irritable. I knocked softly, and he looked up at me.

I entered, closing his door behind me and smiling at him. "Kurit, I wanted to thank you for defending me in the meeting tonight. It meant a great deal to me."

He set his glass down and sat. "I told you before that I supported your idea. What, did you think I'd give you my approval only to withdraw it in front of the council?"

Indeed, it seemed he was irritable. I tried to calm him. "No, Kurit, that's not what I—"

"You imagine me to be some sort of wretch who would sit idly by while they insulted you."

"No! I just came in here to—"

"To point out again that I've been doing a miserable job of being your husband?"

"Kurit, stop!" I said, trying not to shout in the late hour. "I came to say thank you for what you said and—"

"And that it surprised you?"

I sighed and clasped my hands at my aching chest. "I was going to say, 'and I love you for it'," I whispered. Sadly, I shook my head and left his workroom.

Jarik stood outside, and by the look on his face I knew he had overheard at least some of what had been said. He followed me as I went up the stairs towards the south wing. I heard Kurit call my name, but I was so weary of these stupid fights that I ignored his call and continued.

When I arrived at my door, Jarik put his hands gently on my shoulders and said, "I heard you fighting but not what was said. What has he said to you now?"

I shook my head and tried to avoid looking at his concerned face. "I can't bear to talk about it. Go. I want to lock myself in my room before he comes chasing after me for another empty apology. Don't stay here. I will go mad if I hear you fighting with him. Go, Jarik. Leave me here."

I tried to slip out of his hold, but his large hands held me still. "Much as I'd like to thrash him for treating you so, I know it'd only upset you, so I shall go to my chambers. But, Aenna, if you decide you need a shoulder on which to weep, know that I am always there for you. Please, don't suffer alone. I am your friend and will listen whenever you feel you can speak about it." He let go of my shoulders, took my hand and kissed it, and let me enter my room.

Leiset was there. I tried not to be short with her in my frustrated state as I asked for her keys to both doors to my bedchamber. As always, she realized that Kurit had upset me and did not torture me with questions. She simply gave me the keys as I requested. I went into my bedchamber and locked both doors. I also locked the balcony door, on the remote chance that Kurit would be so foolish as to try to get in that way. I was determined to not see him, though I had no rational reason why. I just couldn't bear the thought of another sad apology, another embrace, another promise to behave.

Sure enough, Kurit came knocking. He banged on the door from my receiving room, rattling the knob when I did not answer. He called apologies through the door, but I said nothing. He then ordered Leiset to bring him her keys, as I had suspected he would.

"I cannot do that, Your Majesty," I heard her say.

"Curse it, Leiset, I'm not in the mood for your games. Give me your key!"

"I cannot! She took them in with her."

He banged again on the door for a moment, and then it was silent. Leiset whispered through the door, "He has gone, Aenna."

Then there came a rattle at the door between our chambers. I heard him shout through it, "Aenna, I'm sorry. Open the door. I want to talk to you. Please, don't do this to me."

To you? I thought incredulously. I'm doing this to you?

"Aenna, please. I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things." He banged on the door, becoming frustrated. The noise was sufficient that I worried it would draw Jarik from his rooms, which would result in a fight between them. Jarik had become increasingly furious with Kurit's behaviour towards me, and I worried more and more that he would lose his temper.

But Jarik did not come, and soon Kurit gave up. I cried, using my pillow to mask the sound, until I fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

The next morning, I told myself I was not going to allow him to destroy my spirit. I had a great project to undertake, and though construction could not begin until spring, there was much planning and purchasing to do during the remainder of the winter, including securing final approval of the plan. I focused on the excitement of that as I had a quick breakfast, found Jarik, and went to go tell the people that we could get started soon.

Unfortunately, just before we left the Great Hall, Kurit caught up to us. He cast a brief, sheepish look to Jarik, no doubt knowing that his cousin was furious at him. I glanced at Jarik's face; it was cold and hard, his jaw set.

"Jarik, I'd like a moment with Aenna please," Kurit said.

Jarik glared at him, and my heart raced in fear that he would respond in anger. Instead, the big man looked to me, his eyes softening as he did so. I nodded to him in an indication to step aside, and he did so.

"Aenna, why wouldn't you let me in last night?" Kurit began in haste. "I wanted to apologize—"

"Hush!" I said, then put on a smile for the others who were in the Great Hall. Being so early, it was not crowded, but the few people nearby looked at our little spectacle with undisguised curiosity. Still smiling my false, happy smile, I muttered to Kurit, "We should not be speaking of our problems so publicly, Kurit. The people must not know that our marriage suffers so."

He tried to match my calm and happy look, but since I had so bluntly stated that our marriage was, in fact, suffering, he was unable to do so. "Then come into my workroom, please."

"Kurit, I have grown weary of this game of insult, apology, hug, and forgiveness," I whispered, still smiling. "It is a circle that has spun so many times, I am dizzy from it. Now I have things to do. I must go."

I started to walk away from him, but he caught up with me and stood in my way. "I am sorry, Aenna. I really am."

My heart ached. I realized I had a fast choice to make between tears and anger, so I chose the latter and coldly stated, "You always are, Kurit." Then I stepped around him and left the palace with Jarik.

### Chapter 16

AS I HAD HOPED, the Council approved the plan at the next meeting, so as soon as the snow had cleared sufficiently, I hired men to haul stone from the distant quarries. They travelled in great trains of carts, and when I saw them in the distance from the palace towers, they reminded me of busy ants.

Raelik turned one year old as the project officially began. Kurit managed to stay fairly sober for the small celebration we had for our son. It was the last time he and I shared a pleasant conversation for a long time. Once I became busy and was frequently out of the palace—always wearing the breastplate armour that had been made for me—Kurit grew sullen and distant. I thus took Raelik along with me most of the time, concerned that his brooding father would ruin the little boy's happy spirit.

Construction of the new outer wall began as soon as the ground thawed enough to allow for foundations to be set. The old wall remained in place until the new one was complete and guard towers had been established.

I planned for the various phases of construction to overlap each other as much as possible in order to complete the project quickly. The ground stones for the sidewalks and building foundations were laid as the wall was built. Upon completion of these phases, there was an enormous, white, empty area. I stood at its edge with Raelik in my arms on the first morning it was complete, before the old walls had been taken down. Beside me were Jarik, Oana, Nikal, and Druin.

"It's amazing," Oana whispered. "It looks so perfect, I almost don't want to build anything into it."

Druin laughed, as usual. "But picture it, Oana." He pointed to various parts of the large, white space, as the designs had been established. "Right there shall be the new market. There shall be the rows of new shops and boutiques. And all along there shall be our new homes."

I smiled, happy and inspired by the sight of the new part of Endren as well as the excitement of these people. Jarik put a kind arm around my shoulders as I stared out, imagining as Druin did what the final result would look like. "You do know, of course, your name will be remembered in history for this," he whispered.

"I don't care about that," I said quietly to him. "I won't be there to hear it. But right now I feel happier than I have since..."

"Since you were taken away," he said.

I nodded. He knew me too well. "I finally feel like I have control over things again. This coming together of good people for a good cause: Jarik, it gives me such a heart-swelling delight." Raelik made a happy squeal in my arms, and I laughed. I kissed his sweet little head and marched out to the centre of the giant empty room of stone. I spun around, holding him before me with outstretched arms. He giggled, and I laughed with him. "My precious baby boy!" I said, clutching him back to me. I kissed his fat happy cheeks and spun slowly again, holding one arm out to show him the wonder of it all. "This is where you shall be King, my Raelik. This is where you shall stroll to be amongst your people, and they will know you and love you because you won't be locked away behind palace walls."

I caught sight of the other four staring at me oddly. I laughed at them. I held my free arm outstretched and shouted, "This is the beginning of a whole new way of life for all of us! You will have proper homes and the means to earn a decent living. The wealthy will feel safe walking here, knowing the space has been designed to allow guards to see all and prevent crime. And I shall bring my son here. I shall raise this precious child to know that he is not going to be the King of the upper class, but the King of all Keshaerlans, and he has a duty to every single one of them." I spun him around again to make him giggle, and then I returned to the others. "You may think me mad, but I promise you all that I see these things in true clarity." I looked at Jarik, who smiled in return. "I know you told me once not to embark on a foolish battle against class. I don't have to, Jarik. If every city in Keshaerlan follows this path and provides opportunity for even the poorest child to work to become someone of importance, then the battle will fight itself."

I let him lead me out of the new eastern gate, and we walked back around the city walls to the old east end to begin the next phases. On the way, he quietly said to me, "Aenna, I know you're delighted with the progress, and I'm delighted for you, but please, don't set all of your hopes and dreams on this. If your projections should turn out to be wrong—"

"They won't, Jarik." I laughed.

"Aenna, I couldn't bear to see you crushed if they are."

I smiled at him and sighed happily. "You're always so concerned for me, my dearest friend. Don't be concerned for this. It will be marvellous. And if it isn't, then I shall make it so. I feel like I can do anything today."

He chuckled softly. "I have no doubt that you probably could. Just don't let yourself be hurt by setbacks. Promise me that."

I promised him. I wanted to kiss his cheek for being so sweet and concerned but knew he didn't like it when I did so in public, so I waited until that evening. It surprised him then, and I laughed merrily as I entered my room for the night.

* * *

The only time during the construction when I felt at all unhappy was during the following winter, when we had to stop until spring. The heavy snowstorms made it necessary to stay indoors most days, and I was thus unable to avoid Kurit. We went through several cycles of bitterness, anger, and regret. There would follow a few days during which he would remain fairly sober and would be pleasant to Raelik and me. I learned not to grow hopeful because of them, for inevitably he would have a fight with his mother—who had made insulting me her full-time occupation—and the frustration of it would send him back to his bottles. He spent his days in a state of light drunkenness, always able to appear in control and coherent to most people, and he spent his nights passed out on his bed, chair, or sometimes the floor.

The nonsense that was our marriage began to wear me down. I was no longer angry nearly as often as I was depressed. When I would accidentally recall happier times, they did not make me smile. They stabbed at my heart as I mourned the loss of my husband. Kurit was not dead, but he was not the man I had known. My abduction, his father's death, and the constant, unwinnable battles with his mother had changed him. When he was not irritable, he was despondent. I ached to help him, but whenever I was foolish enough to attempt to do so, he would push me away, either by polite request to be alone or by cruel little remarks.

I knew Jarik would have been there for me in comfort if I had asked. He offered it constantly, as did Leiset. I spoke with Leiset often, and she would put a kind arm around me. I loved her for her kindness, but it didn't make anything better. I knew in my heart that what I really needed was the same from Jarik, but I knew of his love for me and could not bear to take advantage of it.

Just as I was beginning to reach my wits' end, spring returned and I was able again to escape the mad palace and restart construction. Kurit slept through Raelik's second year celebration, having stayed up the night before drinking, after what I was told was a particularly nasty argument with Kasha. Quite frankly, I was glad he was not there to add his surly self to the party. The only exception was when Raelik asked for his father. My heart breaking for my son, I explained that Papa was very tired and managed to direct the boy's attention elsewhere.

But the return to the project made most of winter's anger and depression go away. By the end of the summer, all the buildings were up. Neat little rows of white stone houses lined three sides of the marketplace, their number greater than was currently needed. The market itself was large and open, making it easy for guards to stroll about and keep an eye on things. There was ample room for dozens of regular merchants, and room for significant expansion during peak times of caravan travel as well.

As the finishing touches were completed on the new houses, the people packed their few belongings from their old, crowded homes and began carrying them to their new ones. The new houses, most of which were of a uniform size and design, were assigned by lottery. I stood to the side, helping the architects design the rows of shops that would replace the old homes once they were vacated. It delighted me to watch the happy people moving their things.

One afternoon, however, I witnessed something that was far from happy. A pale, emaciated, and bruised woman was struggling to carry a wooden crate of poorly packed items. She stumbled and fell, dropping the crate before her. I could not tell what was in the crate, but the sound of breaking glass was clearly audible.

I was about to ask one of my guards to go and assist the poor woman when I saw something so absolutely horrific that I froze in my place. A man raced up behind her and shouted several obscenities at her. She tried to apologize, but her tears enraged him. He beat her about the head with his fists, and when she cowered on the ground, covering her head with her arms, he kicked her in the ribs.

I cried out some incomprehensible shout of disgusted alarm. Jarik's hand was immediately on his weapon when he heard my cry, and he looked about frantically to see where the threat was. I grabbed his arm and dragged him with me to where the man continued to beat the woman on the ground. Once Jarik saw what was occurring, he understood why I had cried out. He swung his fist and sent the man to the hard stone ground.

I knelt beside the woman and tried to calm her. She shrieked at my touch, her face hidden under her bone-thin arms. "Hush," I said over her cries. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to let him hurt you any more," I said in as soothing a tone as I could with my fury behind it. She soon looked up at me, and I could tell she had no idea who I was. I had spent all of my recent days in full view of these people, and she stared at me as though seeing my face for the first time. I suspected that she had not set foot out of her old home during any of the construction.

Jarik had his sword drawn and pointed at the man on the ground, who stared up furiously in return. Guards had surrounded us, as had a crowd of gawkers.

"Arrest that man," I shouted. "He was beating this woman. I witnessed it myself."

The guards held their ground, looking at me in obvious discomfort. One asked the man if he was married to the sobbing woman I shielded in my arms. The man declared that he was.

"That makes what you just did all the more hideous," I snarled.

The guard who had asked the question went on his knee beside me and said, "Majesty, we cannot arrest him if she is his wife."

I looked at him, stunned into momentary silence. Then I proclaimed, "You can and you will!"

The guard shrank back a bit at my angry stare but kept his eyes respectfully on mine as he said, "Majesty, the law allows for a husband to punish his wife as he sees fit."

My eyes grew wide in shock. I had seen no such law in my studies, though I recalled that Kordos had required me only to read a specific few books of law. I had not bothered to read beyond that, having been much more interested in getting my hands on the books of biology and other sciences that he did not want me to read.

I looked to Jarik, who had lowered his sword but still held it ready in case the man saw fit to attack me. "Did you know of this, Jarik?"

He glanced at me quickly and then turned his eye back to the man, who was rising to his feet. "Yes. But never before have I seen such a revolting interpretation of that law. A man who strikes any woman lacks honour. A man who strikes his wife is a filthy mongrel. But, yes, Your Majesty, the law technically gives him the right to do so."

I looked down at the woman in my arms. Bruises and scars covered her arms, her hands, and her face. I had to suppress a shudder when I imagined what marks covered the rest of her poor, thin body. Clearly, she had not just been beaten; she had been kept locked up somewhere out of the sun and likely without a great deal of food. She had heard the others refer to me as "Majesty," and thus knew now who I was. She removed herself from my embrace and sat up on her own, looking at me in shame.

I stood and brushed the dust from my dress. Then I looked out on the people who were gathered around and loudly proclaimed: "That law ends today."

"Forgive me, Majesty," said the guard who had informed me of it, "but it is not a law of Endren. As a law of all Keshaerlan, it can only be changed by a majority vote of the entire Council. We cannot hold this man, nor can we take his wife away from him unless she requests sanctuary."

I looked to the woman and said softly, "You can do that. You can ask me for sanctuary, and I'll grant it. I'll have a physician see you and ensure that you are kept safe and well and are given full meals. Do you wish to ask for sanctuary?"

To my surprise, she looked to her husband instead of answering. When he glared at her, she withered in fear and whispered, "No."

"You don't have to fear him. I won't let him harm you if you ask it," I said in empathy. She kept her face to the ground and said nothing as her husband came to her and roughly grabbed her arm. I stepped between them and smacked his arm away. He looked at me with a great hatred, which prompted Jarik to jump in front of him and shove him backwards.

"She is my wife, and by your own admission you cannot keep me from her!" the man shouted. Jarik remained in front of him. I suspected Jarik was giving him a cold look of violent threat, because the man looked at him, paled slightly, and backed away.

I was struck by an idea. I asked the woman, "Did he keep you locked up in your home?" She looked at me but did not answer. "You can tell me this. Did he keep you locked up, unable to leave of your own free will? Did he make you work for him while keeping you under lock and key?"

She hid her face in her hands and nodded.

I turned to the guard who seemed so familiar with the law. "Is it not an offence under Keshaerlan law to keep a slave?"

"Yes, Majesty, but—"

"And do the laws not define a slave as any person who is forcibly confined for the purposes of unpaid labour?"

"Yes, Majesty, but she is his wife."

"Ah, but the law says 'anyone' and does not allow for the exclusion of wives under that definition. I declare then that this man has broken the law by keeping a slave. That should be sufficient for you to arrest him and keep him under arrest until the Council meeting in three weeks' time, at which point I shall do whatever it takes to convince the Council to repeal that barbaric law and replace it with one making it illegal to strike one's spouse except in self- defence!"

I helped the poor woman to her feet and put a steadying arm around her. She sobbed. "He won't ever harm you again. I promise you that," I said.

The guards arrested the man, and he began calling out curses against me. Jarik shouted over him to add treasonous threats against the Queen to his charges. They dragged him away, and at the sight of it, the woman fell against me in her grief. I held her up, trying to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. Jarik came to me, and I asked him to lift her. She looked tiny in his arms, more like a child than a woman.

"We shall take you to the Temple," I said to her softly. "They shall care for you there, and when you are well you can come to me, and I'll help you begin a new life. You aren't alone anymore." I held her hand as we carried her through the streets of Endren to the Temple. We created quite a stir, but I didn't care.

Once she was in the able hands of several priestesses, I let Jarik take me home.

* * *

Convincing the Council to change the laws was not as difficult as I had anticipated. Aelwin and Cael of course agreed with me immediately, Aelwin being particularly horrified at the tale I told of the woman in the market. The only real dissension besides questions of how to carefully word the law came from Bresh. The old man infuriated me, but thankfully his diatribes of women as "property" enraged the honourable men present enough to turn their votes in my favour. I thought more than once that Aelwin was going to strangle him for his words, and I would have gladly supported her in the act.

Kurit said little on the subject, but I suspected that was more out of anger at me for raising yet another unpleasant issue than out of any disagreement. He voted in favour of the change in law with the others.

After the meeting, I spoke at length with Aelwin. I told her that I was upset with myself, for I kept discovering terrible things, such as this law and the east end, that I had been completely ignorant of until I found myself immersed in them. She told me that I should be proud of myself for doing something about them, but I replied that I feared what other ugly laws or dirty little secrets I would discover.

"Aenna, you can't know everything," she said kindly.

"I know. But this whole unpleasantness makes me wish I had the time to comb through the law books to find other injustices."

Aelwin chuckled. "You'll go blind trying or insane from the drudgery of such a task. I have an extensive law library in Maellorn, two adolescent sons who could well use tasks other than running about wildly after young ladies, and a seven-year-old who loves to read. They are good-hearted boys, and I have raised them to have a healthy respect for what is honourable and decent, so I am sure they will devote their energies willingly once they hear of this outrage. Let me take on the task and share it with them. Then perhaps I can be the one to bring this 'silly women's talk' to the Council," she said, mocking Bresh.

I laughed. "You imitate him too well."

"'Women are too soft. You'd let the nation fall to the Wusul if they brought you a pretty hair comb'," she continued, puffing out her cheeks the way Bresh did when he became angry.

"Stop!" I said, laughing loudly. "Oh, Aelwin, you should have seen the look on your face when he said that! I thought you were going to rise and strangle him."

"I wanted to! But did you see your Kurit? I've never seen such a cold, hard stare. Not from that boy. I remember when he used to laugh at everything. There was a time when he would have laughed out loud at Bresh's nonsense, and—why, Aenna, dear, whatever is the matter?"

Her words had cut my laughter short, and I struggled to maintain a pleasant smile. "Oh, nothing," I said as though it were true. "It's just been a very long day."

"Then it is true," she said quietly, touching my arm softly. "You and Kurit are having problems."

"What?" I said, stunned that she knew. I tried to laugh it off, but the older, wiser woman saw right through my attempt. "How silly. We're fine. Whoever told you there were problems?"

"Aenna, your marriage is the most watched in all of Keshaerlan. And anyone who knows Kurit can see he has changed. I had thought perhaps the boy just grew up and stopped being so flippant. But there's more to it, isn't there?"

I shook my head.

"You know, Aenna, men sometimes change after they are wed. Sometimes they court with all the love and pageantry that they can muster, only to be bored within the first year of marriage. I don't mean to pry, truly I don't, but I can see you're unhappy. I mentioned his name and your face went pale when it used to light up. He hasn't taken a mistress, has he?"

I reacted in shock to the suggestion. "No, of course not! Far from it."

"Forgive me for suggesting it. My Daeren would never have done such a thing either, rest his soul. But his brother did so, as did both of mine."

"Kurit does not long for another woman," I said, wanting to add that he didn't even want the one he had.

Aelwin smiled sadly at me. "Well, then don't fret, dear. Perhaps he's just fussy because you're out all day with your wonderful expansion project and he is stuck inside. I'm sure things will be better once you're finished."

I nodded and forced a smile and then said a quick goodnight and went to my chambers. I considered speaking to Kurit of the fact that our problems were becoming noticeable, but I realized it was probable he would only ignore me. So I went on with my days and tried to shut it all out of my mind.

The construction continued, and I hardly spoke to or saw Kurit. The few times that I did spend in my workroom were distracting, as I would usually overhear Kasha speaking to Kurit in his own workroom through the thin door between us. She would drone on about how I was being foolish, how I had not provided him with a second child, and how he should better control me. He hardly spoke back to her, and I wished I knew what his facial expression was. I hoped he was angry with her, but I feared he was silently agreeing.

The week before the final touches were to be put on the new marketplace, Jarik started to behave very strangely. He insisted I spend more time in the palace gardens relaxing and playing with Raelik, even though I told him I had more important things to do. When I tried to leave the palace to go to the site, he stopped me.

"What is it?" I asked, becoming worried. "You're keeping something from me, Jarik. Something has gone wrong, and you don't want me to learn of it."

"Nothing has gone wrong, Aenna. You saw yourself yesterday that the market is almost complete. The people are settled into their new homes and constantly express their delight in that. The rubble of the old houses is being carted away, opening up the new area wonderfully. Your idea has become a great success."

"Then why can't I go partake in it?"

Jarik had the oddest, almost mischievous look on his face.

"What is it?" I asked again. "Why do you look like a rascal?"

He smiled. "Do you trust me, Aenna?"

"Implicitly, of course."

"Then trust me now, and don't ask questions. Go fetch Raelik, and we shall take him to the gardens and play. You shall relax. You shall have a pleasant few days. You shall stay here at home, and everything out there shall take care of itself," he said softly, still smiling.

I did not smile. "You are wrong, Jarik. You speak of contradictory things. I am relaxed and have pleasant time when I'm out there working. I am miserable when I have to stay in the palace. And don't bother to ask why, because I know you have seen me upset."

His smile faded. He touched my arm softly and said, "I know. I wish there was something I could do about that. Truly I do, Aenna. I wish you would open up to me and rely on me, but I understand that you need to shut your pain away and concentrate on your work. But don't think of my request for you to stay here for a few days as an imprisonment. I really want you to take some time to be with your son. And I shall remain by your side. We shall go to the gardens. We can stand on the west wall and watch the training grounds behind the palace, if you would like. Or you can go read in the library, and I'll stand outside and make sure he doesn't come in to bother you."

Those last words hurt me, though I know Jarik didn't intend to do so. The thought that I had to be protected from the presence of my own husband was depressing. Jarik saw my face fall and realized immediately why.

"Oh, Aenna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." I could tell he wanted to embrace me in comfort, but we were standing in the Great Hall, and he was loathe to appear unseemly. I sighed and regained my composure. "It isn't your fault, so don't be apologetic. You're very sweet to try and protect me from anything that hurts, physically or otherwise." I managed a smile and said, "Fine, then. You obviously have your reasons for wanting me kept away. I know you well enough to know you'd tell me why if you could or if there was a problem or a threat."

"Of course I'd tell you if there was a danger. It's much easier to protect someone if they understand the potential threats. I'm asking you to stay in the palace for a few days for a reason I cannot disclose. I was hoping you'd take my suggestion of relaxation without question, though I suppose I knew you wouldn't. You're too intelligent and inquisitive for your own good, sometimes. You have to learn to let some things just be."

He bade me take his arm formally. "Come, then," he said, trying to lighten my mood. "Let's go fetch your delightful boy, and we shall watch him run about the gardens."

I went with him. I managed to have a pleasant day, though I was plagued by curiosity as to what was being hidden from me. I could not imagine what reasons there were for me to be kept away except for unpleasant ones, but I trusted Jarik when he said there was no problem.

Several days went by, and I remained in the palace. I spent time talking with Leiset in my chambers. I had not realized how concerned she had been for me. She confessed that she frequently checked on me as I slept, worried that I was being overworked and fretting too much about Kurit. I teased her that she was mothering me, but the truth of it was her concerns were valid, and she knew it.

I saw Kurit only at dinners, during which we did not speak beyond simple pleasantries. I longed to return to excuses for missing the meal gatherings, for when I was working I often returned to the palace too late for them. It was awkward to have to sit next to him and not be able to speak my mind. It was made all the worse by the way he glared at Jarik jealously, as though he resented the fact that Jarik could make me smile.

Finally, the day came when Jarik said I could go back to the east end, though not until the afternoon. He presented me with a formal invitation to witness the official opening of the new Endren peasants' market.

"What in the name of the Temple is this all about?" I asked.

He smiled and said cryptically, "You shall see very soon, Aenna."

Kurit found us not five minutes later in my workroom, bearing a similar invitation in his hand.

"What is this nonsense, Aenna?" he asked. "I don't recall printer's fees as being part of your budget."

"I don't know myself what it's all about," I replied in honesty.

"The printing house of Grashen and Sons donated the invitations in hopes of having their name prominently seen," Jarik said. "Every noble in Endren is to receive one."

"Whatever for?" I asked.

"It was Druin's idea. He wishes to make an enormous spectacle of the new market to attract people right away."

"Why did I not know of this?" I asked, surprised so much had occurred without my knowledge.

"A fascinating question, Aenna," Kurit muttered. He was in a foul mood, and I sensed a fight was brewing before me. "You are supposed to have some degree of authority over these people. Now they're running about planning parties you're unaware of? That's hardly responsible management on your part."

"Kurit!" Jarik shouted. The fury in his voice and in his eyes was such that Kurit stepped back from the big man. "I want to speak to you in your workroom. Now," snarled Jarik. I had never heard him address Kurit in such a tone, and it frightened me.

Kurit looked indignant for a moment, and I thought he would refuse. My heart beat rapidly in worry that Jarik would lose control of his anger and injure my husband. But thankfully Kurit had the sense to realize Jarik was not to be trifled with at that moment. They excused themselves to Kurit's workroom and closed the door behind them.

Breathlessly, I stood still, my hand braced on the back of a chair. I listened intently for the sounds of violence but heard nothing. They were gone only a few minutes, but it felt like hours.

They returned, Kurit entering first with an embarrassed look on his face. "I'm sorry, Aenna. I seem to have fallen into a habit of being rather rude to you. Forgive me," he said.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and nodded once. Then I heard a small noise and opened my eyes to see that Jarik had shoved Kurit towards me.

Kurit cast a quick glare back at Jarik, who returned only a look of stone. My husband turned his gaze back to me. "Um, since we're both invited to whatever is going on out there, well, we thought—I mean, I thought maybe, if you wish it, I could escort you there. If you want to, well, go together, that is."

It was obvious that Jarik had put him up to this. It was obvious that Kurit was uncomfortable with the idea of going to the opening. It was even obvious that he was struggling with the idea of spending time with me. But to be perfectly honest, I didn't care. I put aside all those things and clung to the fact that he had offered to escort me somewhere. I could not help but smile at him.

"I can think of nothing that would please me more," I said to Kurit. And for a moment—a very brief flash in time—I saw a hint of happiness on his face at my acceptance.

Then his usual, pained look returned, but nonetheless he said, "I would be honoured, then. I shall come to fetch you when it's time to go." He left my workroom.

I smiled at Jarik, which made him smile in return. "Good, then," he said. "Hopefully I've finally gotten through to him."

"What did you say in there? You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"Not physically, no. Though it was tempting," he grumbled.

"Don't, Jarik. It was all very amusing and silly when you used to tease each other and you'd play rough with him, but, please, don't ever lose your temper and actually hit him."

Jarik sat down with a sigh. "I don't want to. He is my cousin, after all. Not to mention my King. But, Aenna, there are times when he's cruel to you and I just want to..." He didn't finish, but his clenched fists and set jaw made the end of the sentence fairly clear.

I stood beside him and took one of his fists in my hands, tugging softly at his fingers until his hand relaxed. "Don't do it. You would not be helping me. It would bother me a great deal. Don't ever make me have to protect my husband from my dearest friend."

He squeezed my hand and said, "Your husband should be your dearest friend."

"Well, then let's hope whatever you said did get through to him, and we'll have a splendid afternoon."

A few hours later, Kurit came to my chambers to escort me to the event. His eyes were sad but clearer than usual. I suspected he had forced himself to remain sober since Jarik's chat with him. When I took his arm, he leaned and kissed my cheek. My resulting smile must have looked ridiculous, like a giddy adolescent girl. It remained on my face the entire time it took to walk to the new marketplace.

The smile faded into a look of bewilderment when we arrived. In the centre of the open area of the marketplace stood some tall structure, about twice Jarik's height. It was covered in a dark cloth, and I had no idea what it was.

I noticed others staring at it as well. A great many wealthy lords and ladies were present. They remained as far back from everything as they could, surrounded by their private guards, but more than a few seemed pleasantly curious.

When our arrival was noticed, a cry rang out to hail the King and Queen. Every man bowed and every woman curtsied. To this day, I hate it when they do that. It always makes me blush.

Druin proudly stepped into the centre of attention, near the mysterious cloth-draped object. He bowed charmingly to Kurit and me, glancing at me with a roguish grin the way Kurit once did. I could not help but return the smile.

"Your Majesties, good Lords and Ladies, and all else who gather here," he began. "I am deeply honoured to welcome you to the new Endren peasants' market. Every care and concern has been taken to design this area..." Druin went on about the many well-planned features of the new east end. I wanted to listen, but I could not keep my mind adhered to his words. All I could think about was that my arm was in Kurit's. I could feel the muscles of his arm against mine. I could feel the warmth of his skin under his shirt. I could feel his chest expand and contract as he breathed. I was aware of his every movement, his scent, and his heartbeat.

In my mind, I saw him being so proud of what I had helped to accomplish that he would kiss me passionately right there in front of everyone. When I should have been listening to Druin, I instead was fantasizing about Kurit's lips on mine, his arms around me in love and pride. Then I imagined him joyfully taking me home and leading me to his chambers, where he would slowly undress me and himself and then make love with me, over and over again, a thousand times to make up for everything that had gone wrong since I was abducted.

I stole a glance at my beloved husband. He was watching Druin, obviously listening to what was being said. His face showed no emotion. I watched him for a few more seconds, hoping he would realize I was looking at him and favour me with a loving smile. I wanted so badly to see him smile. I wanted so badly to be naked and under him in his bed.

I heard Druin say my name and quickly returned my attention to him in case I was being asked to speak. I prayed that I was not blushing noticeably from my daydream.

"Her Majesty's benevolent vision has become our reality," Druin said. He was looking at me sincerely. "Good Queen Aenna, none of this ever would have occurred without you. You believed in us, and every man, woman, and child who lives or works in what you have built for us will know that. Your faith in us shall serve to inspire us to work diligently to make you proud. You have given us hope by virtue of your own struggles, your own path to greatness, and your enduring goodness. You have given us a chance to better ourselves. For this, we, your loyal subjects, dedicate this marketplace in your honoured name."

Druin and another man grabbed two pull-cords on the great cloth. When they yanked on the cords, the material split down the middle and fell, revealing a large white statue of a woman holding a child in one arm, the other arm stretched out in delighted welcome.

It was a statue of me, and the child in my arms was my son.

I stood still, absolutely stunned and speechless. Around me there erupted a great clamour of noise—applause, happy shouts, whistles, and even the gathered nobles spoke in pleased tones amongst themselves. I just stared at it, mouth agape like a fool. It was a few moments before I realized there was writing on the statue's base. It read:

Good Queen Aenna

Who had faith in every Keshaerlan

Who gave of herself that we all may prosper

"By the Gods themselves," I whispered in awe.

"Apparently you've almost become a Goddess yourself," Kurit said, having heard my whisper. "I wonder if these people even have the faintest idea who I am." He moved his arm out of mine.

I was about to ask Kurit if he meant to sound as ridiculously envious as he did when Druin came to my side. I forgot about Kurit's words for the moment and said to Druin, "What is this? This is not right. I'm flattered, but really, Druin, I—"

"Your Majesty, this is our tribute to you for all that you have done for us."

"But I hardly did a thing, compared to most of you! I lifted no stone, I designed no buildings. It was the people's work that brought them their new homes. It is important to me that this be recognized."

Druin smiled handsomely. "Majesty, forgive my bluntness but you are too modest. None of this would have been without you. It was your vision. It was you who found the funding, paid for the materials, and originated the very idea of it all. But beyond that, it was your insistence that things could be better that inspired us to work for ourselves."

I shook my head at him but could not find the words to express how strange I felt, seeing myself immortalized in stone with a reverent inscription beneath. I approached the statue and looked up at it. It was a good likeness. Even Raelik's happy little cheeks seemed almost alive, though they were made of colourless stone. The pose was clearly taken from the day I had spun around like a silly girl in the great empty room that had just been finished. One of those that had been present must have described the scene to the sculptors.

I put my hands to my face and felt tears on my cheeks. I was so moved at this incredible tribute that I had begun to quietly weep and had not even noticed.

"I told you that your name would be remembered in history for this," said Jarik, standing close beside me.

"This is why you kept me in the palace."

He nodded. "I know very well that, had you found out about this, you would have gone to great lengths to stop it. You're far too self-deprecating and absurdly modest to have let such a thing be established."

"Indeed. This shouldn't be." I couldn't take my eyes from it.

I felt his hand gently squeeze my shoulder. "It should be, and it is. They adore you, Aenna. Let them adore you. You're their Queen, and you have bestowed a great gift upon them. Stop being the barmaid playing dress-up and start thinking of yourself as a Queen. Don't be embarrassed by your subjects' affection. Delight in it."

I turned to him. His kind and loving eyes made me smile. "Now brush your little tears away, Aenna, and come be with your people. There are many who wish to congratulate you." He led me around from person to person. Many a wealthy merchant expressed their delight in the possible prosperity of the poor, for they knew as I had that their own businesses would benefit from a larger customer base. Some noblemen seemed still sceptical, but all were at least gracious and offered congratulations.

When finally I found Kurit again, he was standing off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. I resisted the urge to skip girlishly to him, and instead walked slowly and majestically.

"Kurit, I can't believe this is all happening to me. I never could have imagined it!" I said in an excited whisper when I was at his side.

He did not look at me. He just stared at the statue with a vaguely annoyed look on his face.

"Kurit, what is it?" I asked. When he didn't answer, I said, "I know, the statue is a bit much. I really could have lived without that. It's very kind, but it's frightfully embarrassing." Still, he said nothing. He just stared at it.

I touched his cheek softly, knowing the public affection was not entirely appropriate, but I didn't care. When he still did not even favour me with a glance, I tried to unfold his crossed arms to hold his hand. He was as rigid as the statue that held his eye.

"Kurit, please, what is it? If that statue offends you, I'll order it torn down. Please, your face is so cold. I was so happy when you brought me here, my arm in yours. And your little kiss before we left, Kurit, that swept my heart away. I love you so very much. Your love is the most important thing in my life."

Finally, he did turn his head to me. He moved slowly, as though it were a great effort to force himself to look at the real me after seeing the white stone version. His eyes were cold and hard, and their jealous stare made me step back and shudder. Then, in a voice dark with resentment and anger he said, "You don't need my love, Aenna. You have all of Endren's rabble for that."

Before I could so much as drop my jaw in surprise at his vicious words, he turned on his heel and walked away. I stood there, watching him leave, unable to breathe. I felt as though he had kicked me in the chest and left me to suffocate.

When he was out of sight, I managed to gasp in a breath. It made me dizzy, and I felt faint. The ground seemed to wobble under my feet as though the stones were becoming water. I felt as though I were a lost child in the crowd, unsure of who or where I was, panicked and alone.

Then Jarik was beside me, his hands fast around my arm to steady me. I let myself fall against him. He held me up, trying to do so in such a way that would not attract attention.

"What did that miserable wretch say to you?" he growled.

I could not answer. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. I stared at the ground, longing for it to open and swallow me to end my agony.

Jarik shook me as though to prevent me from fainting. Perhaps I was.

"Aenna!" he said in a loud whisper. "Aenna, breathe. Come now, look at me and breathe." He lifted my face to his. The sight of his angry, concerned eyes made me shiver. I stood back from him in an effort to compose myself. The ground soon became stable, though I still longed to be buried in it.

"What did he say?" Jarik asked again.

I could not bear to repeat it. "He is jealous," I managed to say.

"Jealous? Of what? The attention you're receiving? You have earned it, Aenna. Or is he jealous that you have given so much of yourself to these people?"

I shook my head, not knowing the answer. "I don't understand it, Jarik. All I know is that he has been poking at me with sharp little jabs for so long now, and now today he has taken that knife and driven it into my heart."

My Champion's face took on a look of anguish. I could almost hear his heart breaking for me. "Let me take you home," he said softly. "Let me take you where I can hold you and comfort you."

I put my arm in his, and we began to walk away. "I cannot weep in your arms, Jarik, much as it would comfort me to do so. I must not allow myself to become so weak that I need that."

"Aenna, there's no shame in needing a friend," he said quietly as we walked.

I said nothing in reply. I could not tell him that I didn't want to let him hold me because I felt as though it were a tease to him. I knew he loved me. It was unfair for me to allow him to be so affectionate when by all that was right I should have been pushing him away that he might learn to love someone else. So when we reached my chamber door, I silently went inside and did not ask him in. I closed the door as he stood in the hall, looking at me with sadness and love.

### Chapter 17

WITH THE CONSTRUCTION of the new east end over, I had less excuse to leave the palace and ended up staying within its walls more often. As a result, I suffered severe bouts of depression, especially once the snow began to fall. When the weather had grown too cold and snowy to walk about the city with Jarik, I took to hiding in my chambers, only leaving them to be with my son in his nursery. Some days, I did not even leave my bed until Leiset threatened to have Jarik come and dump me out of it.

One day I remained there despite her threats. I stared at the sunlight on the wall, watching its pattern change as the hours passed. When mid-afternoon came, Leiset entered with Tash.

I looked at the grim physician and said, "There is nothing wrong with my health. Leave me be."

Tash ignored me, as was his wont. Leiset recited my symptoms of depression—lack of appetite, restless sleep, listlessness, ennui, and so forth. Tash shooed her away and began his poking and prodding and litany of questions. I answered him curtly, hoping he'd just go away.

"Your Majesty, you are correct that there is nothing wrong with you physically. But there will soon be if you continue this. If you suffer so at being in this palace, may I suggest that you travel elsewhere for a short time?"

"It's the middle of winter, Tash," I grumbled.

"Indeed. There are lovely snowy landscapes to behold on your way."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are. Choose a destination. I'm going to tell Leiset right now to pack your bags and arrange for your transportation."

"Don't you give me orders, Tash," I snapped.

He chuckled. "That's better. Come then, Aenna. Be angry with me. Get out of this bed and pull rank and push me around the room. Let's see some of that old fire."

I glared at him. "Your games won't work on me. You're not helping."

"Someone has to motivate you out of this bed. Perhaps I'll send a message to your friend Lord Cael to come and drag you to Staelorn."

I sat up in fury. "Don't you dare! I am not an errant child in need of a lesson!"

Tash leaned close to me, his nose a mere finger's length from my own, and said, "Then stop acting like one."

My blood boiled. I flipped myself out of the other side of the bed and shouted, "Fine, then!" I opened the door to the receiving room where Leiset stood. "Pack our bags, Leiset!" I commanded. "Send a message to Cael that we wish to come visit him in Staelorn."

I turned back to Tash and said, "Don't look so smug. You have not won! I am going only to prove to you that it will not help. My problem is not these walls nor this city nor the dullness of winter. My problem sleeps in that room," I snarled, pointing to the door between Kurit's bedchamber and my own. "I'll take a little trip as you suggest. I might even feel better when I return. But mark my words, unless the Gods favour him with the sense to remember he has a wife who loves him, anything gained by this trip will be as dust blowing out of my hands."

As soon as I stopped speaking, I was ashamed that I had been so barefaced about the problems with Kurit. I rubbed my aching head with both hands as I muttered to Tash leave me be so I could dress myself.

We left the next day. I decided not to take Raelik along, since I was unhappy and did not want him to see me that way for extended periods of time. Leiset and I rode in a small coach that had runners instead of wheels so it could be pulled along in the snow. Jarik rose his horse alongside the coach with the other guards.

I watched my Champion out of the coach's window. His face was grim as he rode. He had not spent much time with me during these weeks of depression. When he had tried, I had gently pushed him away. As I watched him ride, I felt guilty and wondered if I had hurt his feelings in my attempts to protect his loving heart.

There was something very alluring about the sight of him on his horse. He looked very much the warrior in his armour, his sword strapped to his side and his shield to his back. He embodied the image of every good warrior from every bard's song or written tale, except that he wore no long, flowing cape because he considered them a hindrance to his mobility. His hair fluttered in the wind, swept back from his face in a dark, rippling cascade.

I noticed flecks of white in the dark beard around his mouth and chin. I realized they were bits of ice and snow. The rest of him was well bundled against the cold, but he didn't like to have hats, scarves, or any other clothing around his head. He said it interrupted his view of what was around him.

"He must be freezing his poor cheeks off," I said. "He should be in here with us."

"He knew he was welcome," replied Leiset. "He's been keeping his distance out of respect. He wants to comfort you, you know."

I nodded, still looking at him. "I can't let him do that."

"Why not? He adores you."

"Precisely. You've answered your own question."

Leiset sighed. "Aenna, pushing him away will not stop his worry for you. It makes it worse. He's taken to standing guard outside your door again. He can no more shut off his adoration of you than you can stop loving Kurit."

I turned to her quickly. "Don't even say that," I snapped. "Don't speak to me of loving Kurit."

"Very well. I'll let Lord Cael talk some sense to you," she said. "But I will say this: I care about what is happening to you. Jarik cares about what is happening to you. We're your friends, Aenna. We want to help you. Don't shut us out in an attempt to appear strong on your own. You're not fooling us."

I turned back to the window. By the Temple, Jarik looked handsome as he rode—so strong, so solid. I found myself wishing Kurit were more like his cousin. I tried to envision my husband on a horse in Jarik's place, but my only mental image was that of him riding frantically, calling my name when I was abducted. My heart sank at the thought. I fell silent for most of the remainder of the journey.

The only other time I spoke was to point out to Leiset the Traveller's Torch as we passed it. I wondered if anyone there remembered me. Of course, they would know who I was now, but I wondered if they remembered the barmaid who had run off one night without explanation. I had half hoped that we would end up staying at that inn overnight, but another one had already been selected and prepared for us.

* * *

I spent just over a week at Staelorn. I was introduced to Cael's entire family, including his seven children. They were all very kind, and I did my best to appear jovial in their company.

Cael spent a great deal of time alone with me, trying to break me out from behind the walls I had built around my soul. He was patient and kind yet relentless in his digging. Eventually I crumbled before him. I did not speak of Kurit's drinking, nor did I detail any of his insults. I simply let Cael hold me—as I imagined a father or brother would have done—as I wept and told him that I felt as though my marriage was dying.

"Aenna, dear, this isn't your fault. It's not even really Kurit's, from what you've told me. I know that man. I've known him since he was an infant. He's gone through short heartaches before. He's always returned to his silly self in time. He will again," said Cael as he let me weep on his shoulder.

"I don't think so, Cael. This is not a childhood fit. He has been like this since shortly after I escaped from Wusul."

Cael looked at me in astonishment. "That long? Kurit? I do not imagine you to be untruthful, Aenna, but that is nonetheless difficult to believe."

"It is the truth. And coming here to escape it might do me a few days good, but when I go home it will be the same. He has forgotten how to love me."

Cael took my hands between his own. "Then remind him, Aenna. Now, I don't mean to be crude, but remind him physically, and the emotion will follow. If he will not come to your bed, go to his. Seduce him, if you must. Remind him of the pleasure and joy of love. I remember well the desire in his eyes on your wedding day. Again, I don't mean to be vulgar, and forgive me if I am, but you need to rekindle the flame of his desire. Whatever you did on your wedding night, do that again. Entice him out of his despondency. You are a very beautiful woman, Aenna. Use your charms on him, and he shall remember the rest on his own."

He rose, kissed my cheek gently, and left me to consider his words. I did so for a long time. Soon, I grew hopeful that he might be right. Kurit had certainly appreciated my sexual appetites before I had been abducted. I envisioned going to his room dressed in a revealing nightdress and enticing him. I remembered how he had lusted for the sway of my hips while we stayed at the royal cottage after our wedding. I devised in my mind a scheme to remind him of his desire, as Cael had recommended.

By the end of my stay, I was filled with a new hope and happiness. I thanked Cael many times for his wise advice. The dear man only winked roguishly each time, always making me laugh. As we said our good-byes, he leaned to me and whispered, "When next I come to Endren for Council, I expect to see your waistline growing with your next child."

I felt a blush rise in my cheeks and looked at him with a reproachful smile. He laughed loudly and sent us merrily on our way home.

I confided my plan to Leiset as we travelled home, and she was elated to hear it. She said with enthusiasm that she'd have the tailor make me an alluring nightdress.

"I knew Cael would get through to you, Aenna." She laughed. "I just hope he didn't have the gall to have suggested this plan of attack himself."

I didn't answer, but my face gave his guilt away.

"By the Temple, he's a wretched knave," Leiset said. "But if takes a foul-mouthed beast to make you smile hopefully like that, then I suppose he's forgivable. Even Jarik's less fretful. When he heard you laugh at dinner that first time, I thought his face was actually going to glow brighter than the lamps!"

I smiled and looked out the window at him. He still looked serious and handsome as he rode but was noticeably more relaxed in his saddle. "He's in love with me, you know." I said bluntly.

"Yes. He has been for some time," Leiset replied. Her tone had become serious.

"I don't know what to do about it."

"There's nothing you can do, Aenna. He's a grown man. He knows you're married. He'll never sacrifice his honour to do anything untoward."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I just feel badly that he is condemning himself to loneliness."

"Don't. The Queen's Champion isn't supposed to marry anyway. Well, it has happened under certain circumstances. It's not a law. But it's not considered a good idea. A Champion must always be available to protect his royal lady. If he marries another, he could become distracted. Jarik is the type of man who would have dedicated his life to you whether or not he fell in love with you."

I sighed. "But still, even if he didn't marry, he could still..." I wasn't sure how to phrase myself without earning a lecture from Leiset on vulgarity.

"He could still be with other women in his spare time?" she asked, surprising me.

"Well, yes."

Leiset shook her head. "I don't think he has been interested in dalliances since knowing you. Don't fret for him, Aenna. He seems to quite well enjoy his duty. He may be miserable when you're miserable, but when you're happy he's in his glory. Don't worry about Jarik. He can care for his own heart. Concentrate on Kurit. Kurit needs your attention now."

A few nights after our return, Leiset presented me with what the tailor had wrought. I blushed at the sight of it, knowing full well the funny little man must have suspected the garment's intent. When I put it on, it revealed the tops and inner sides of my breasts, and though the length of it reached nearly the floor, the sides were slit up to the middle of my hips. The material was a gauzy white fabric, through which my dark nipples could faintly be seen.

I stood before the mirror with Leiset, who shook her head in mock disapproval.

"By all that's sacred," she muttered, "even I have lustful thoughts for you."

I smiled at her. "I'm not your type, Leiset."

She shrugged. "No, but my beautiful Zayel would be jealous if she knew I was seeing you in this."

I laughed. "I won't tell her. She doesn't fancy speaking with me anyway, I've noticed."

"Ignore her. She's been snippy lately," Leiset muttered.

"Probably because you've been spending all your time fretting over me."

"That's my duty, Aenna."

I hugged my dear friend. "Perhaps, but you always go beyond your duty. Hopefully tonight will be an end to this nonsense with Kurit, and you'll be able to worry more about your personal life than mine for a change."

"I saw light in his workroom on my way through the Great Hall just now," Leiset said. "And judging from the lack of light beneath the door here, I'd guess he's not yet in his room."

"Then I shall wait for him in his room," I said, admiring myself again in the mirror.

"In a tawdry pose upon his bed, no doubt?" Leiset chided.

I laughed, and she left my bedchamber. After a last glance in the mirror, I went into Kurit's room.

As we had suspected, he was not yet there. I lit two small lamps—enough light that he could see me, but dark enough to provide an enticing atmosphere. Then I worked myself into what I imagined to be a sensual pose upon his bed and waited for him to arrive.

I could smell the mingled scents of his hair, his particular mixture of bath salts, and his skin in his bed. I pulled his favourite pillow to me and hugged it for a moment. I inhaled deeply of his scent and became incredibly aroused, despite the small scent of alcohol that was also present. I decided to ignore that.

I found myself remembering how wonderful it had been to sleep in his strong arms, enveloped in his touch and his scent. I put the pillow back down and stared at the canopy of the bed, thinking of how I had often seen it while he made love with me here. I imagined him finding me soon and making love with me again. I pictured him throwing his head back in his moment of joy in me, flipping his hair back in that way that drove me mad for him. I heard him in my mind, whispering and moaning my name in delight, calling me his wicked little klysh.

I ran my hand over my breasts and found my nipples were almost painfully stiffened by my desire. Feeling rather naughty, I indulged myself to touch them as he used to—teasing my fingers around them. The thought of his lips there made me whisper out his name in lust.

The sound of his voice in the outer room broke me from my fantasy. I quickly resumed my pose just before he opened the door and entered.

He came in and tossed some papers on his dresser, not even noticing that I was there. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. When he turned around to look towards the decanter on the table, he noticed me on his bed and was momentarily startled.

"Curse it, Aenna, you're so quiet there I didn't even know you were in the room," he said. He didn't sound angry, just surprised.

I smiled at him. "I thought I'd surprise you."

"You did."

I laughed softly, a throaty little laugh to let him know my intent. "I've been waiting for you. You were working late."

"What of it?" He eyed the decanter and glass.

I rose from the bed and stood such that I was blocking the view of his liquid mistress. His eyes moved over my gown, but his face showed no emotion.

"Do you like it?" I asked softly. "I had it made just for tonight."

"Why? What's tonight?"

I slid my hands gently around the back of his neck and pressed myself to him. "Tonight is the night I remind you that you have a wife who deeply desires you." I moved to kiss him, but the instant my lips brushed his he pulled himself from my embrace.

"That's very sweet, Aenna, but I'm really tired right now. I just want to go to bed."

Not to be deterred so easily, I gave him a naughty look and said, "I just want to go to your bed as well."

He sighed and sat in his chair. I caught him giving another glance towards the alcohol and wondered if perhaps he had spent his evening sober whilst working and was now frustrated because I was preventing him from rewarding himself with drunkenness. I moved myself again so that I was blocking the tempting view.

"Didn't you miss me while I was gone to Staelorn?" I asked in a mock pout.

He shrugged. "You were out of the palace almost as much while you built your famous marketplace," he muttered.

I pushed his sting aside in my mind. "But I was gone so far away. You weren't concerned for me at all?" I spoke in a hushed voice that I hoped he would find enticing.

"I didn't worry about you. I knew that Jarik was with you. I know he doesn't take his eyes off of you."

Another jab, and again I ignored it. I told myself that I needed only to weather a few more such comments, for once I convinced him to make love with me, he would remember his love and stop lashing out at me.

I leaned to him, putting my hand on the back of the chair behind his shoulder. I knew full well that the angle would give him a nice view of my breasts, so I moved my shoulders slightly to make them sway just enough to catch his eye. It worked, but not as I had hoped. His eyes flashed to them for a moment, but then he looked back at my face without even changing his expression.

I leaned to kiss him, but he turned away from me. So I kissed his cheek with slightly parted lips. He did not react, so I stood back up and resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.

"Come now, Kurit," I purred at him, "Surely you can't resist me all night." I took his hand from the armrest of the chair and placed it against my thigh, between the split parts of the gown. I moved my hips slowly as I lifted his hand up my thigh to my hip. As I held it there, I swayed seductively as I had in the meadow at the cottage. "Surely you remember how this used to make you want to chase me and take me like a hungry beast."

"You're being rather unseemly, Aenna," he muttered, pulling his hand away from me.

I blinked at him in surprise. Not only was my attempt to entice him clearly not working, but he actually seemed put off by me. My confidence dissipated. "Unseemly? Did I hear you correctly? Did you just call me unseemly?" I asked in shock.

His face became bitter and hard. "Yes," he snapped. "Do you not know what the word means?"

I stepped back away from his chair. My hands rose to my chest in shock and dismay. "Kurit, I'm well aware of your predilection for spitefulness when you haven't had your drink, but that is terribly cruel. You used to tell me that I was beautiful and sensual and that you were delighted that I enjoyed our lovemaking. Now you find me unseemly?"

He rolled his eyes as though I were a nuisance of a child. "You're a mother now, Aenna. It is inappropriate to be so... so..."

"Sexual?" I finished. "Kurit, are you saying you never want to be with me again? That you wish for no more children? I regretfully inform Your Majesty that children do not grow in the garden!"

He shot out of his chair and stormed over to his precious decanter. He poured himself a fast glass of whatever dark brown alcohol was inside and drank it back. He kept his back to me as he did so.

I became furious in my sexual frustration as much as by his cruelty. "Kurit, I suspect the problem is not me, but more that you're such a drunkard of late that you cannot function as a man," I spat.

He poured himself another glassful and muttered, "Don't be vulgar, Aenna."

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. "Oh, splendid. First I'm unseemly, and now I'm vulgar." I put my hands on my hips and muttered, "But I should not be surprised." I walked to the table with the decanter and stood in front of him as he drank. "After all, why would I be the least bit attractive to you when you have this?" I held up his decanter, and he watched me dangerously, as a dog eyes anyone approaching his food dish.

I held the decanter in one hand and stroked it sensually with the fingers of the other. "This, your lovely mistress, who dulls your pain and asks nothing in return." I put it back hard on the table. "She can have you," I snapped. "I've grown weary of trying to attract your attentions away from her. Fear not, husband, I shall no longer approach you in these 'unseemly' ways. I'll become as cold and distant as your precious mother—whom I know says awful things about me to you every day, and you don't defend me."

He glared at me, glass in hand, but said nothing.

"Is that what you want then, for me to stop hassling you with my 'vulgar' behaviour? Fine!" I went to the door between our bedchambers and then turned again to look at him in fury. "And the next time you do manage to feel yourself rising to the occasion, as it were, you can stick it in that decanter for all I care. Make love to your mistress, Kurit, because you won't be doing so with me."

I exited and slammed the door behind me. My fury turned immediately to sadness as I let go of the knob and leaned back on the rough wood of the door. I sighed in frustration and sadness.

Suddenly, there was a crash against the door. I screamed and jumped away from the movement and the sound. Dark alcohol leaked underneath the door into my own room. I knew in an instant that he had hurled the heavy glass decanter against the door in his fury at my words. I shrank back in fright just as Leiset and a guard ran into my bedchamber. I threw my arms over my chest and abdomen to hide my barely-clothed form.

"Majesty, are you hurt?" the guard asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not hurt. But there must be broken glass all over his room."

Leiset looked from the growing puddle under the door to me and asked, "What in the name of the Temple happened?"

I could not speak of it. I closed my eyes and began to sob in fear and depression. Leiset ushered the guard out of the room and said, "I'll fetch Jarik. Don't cry, Aenna. Everything will be fine." Her voice wavered, and I knew she believed nothing of the sort.

When Jarik burst into my bedchamber a few moments later, he found me curled up in a chair hugging my knees and sobbing pitifully. I hadn't bothered to cover myself beyond what my folded limbs hid, and the split of the dress was no doubt revealing part of my backside. I didn't care.

He grabbed a sheet from the bed and put it over me gently. I didn't move or even look at him but continued to cry into my knees. Jarik spoke soft little words of comfort as he wrapped the sheet around me and lifted me out of the chair. He carried me into my receiving room and sat on the couch, cradling me in his arms.

He rocked me slowly, caressing my hair and whispering into my ear. "Hush, now, Aenna. I won't let him hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you." He kissed my forehead and held me tight. If Leiset was in the room, I was unaware of it. All I knew in that moment was the sweet comfort of Jarik's strong arms around me. And still he whispered, "There now, Aenna. Don't cry. Hush, hush..."

When my sobs finally subsided, I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were so tender and loving that I silently cursed the Gods for being so cruel as to taunt me with them when Kurit's eyes had held me with such disdain.

Jarik lifted me and moved me so I was no longer in his lap but instead sitting on the couch beside him. As he did so, I caught sight of Leiset. Her face was very pale, and she wrung her hands in worry.

I looked at her and said, "Kurit doesn't even want me anymore."

Jarik's face became pained. He embraced me again as I heard Leiset begin to weep for me. Then I heard her gasp. I lifted my head from Jarik's shoulder to see Kurit standing in the open door to my bedchamber. He was glaring at Jarik's back.

"I came to make sure you were all right," Kurit muttered, "but I see that has been taken care of, as usual."

Jarik turned to look at Kurit as he walked into the middle of the room. I had seen Jarik angry before, even furious, but the steely look of rage on his face in that moment was so terrible that it frightened me. They stared at each other in what looked like hatred. These men who had grown up as brothers and loved each other well now regarded each other in jealous wrath.

Unable to stand their silent glares, I said, "Kurit, am I to understand that you condemned me cruelly for seeking your love, and now you condemn me for seeking the comfort of a friend?"

Without taking his eyes off Jarik's, Kurit spat, "A friend? Is that all this is? Friendship?"

Jarik sprang to his feet and clenched his fists. "How dare you question Aenna's loyalty!" he snarled. Kurit said nothing, but his eyes narrowed in accusation.

Like a flash of lightning, Jarik's arm reached out and grabbed Kurit by the back collar of his shirt. Caught completely off guard, Kurit was unable to prevent his larger cousin from dragging him off his feet. As Kurit stumbled, Jarik caught another part of his shirt with his other hand and lifted him from the ground. Jarik started carting him through my bedchamber to Kurit's own.

I rose and chased after them, crying out for Jarik to stop. "No!" I cried. "Jarik, don't! He's half mad from his drunkenness. He doesn't know what he's saying. Don't hurt him!"

Jarik paused in the doorway between the bedchambers, standing right in the puddle of alcohol. Kurit wriggled in the big warrior's grasp but could not escape. "I shall not hurt him, Aenna, because it would break your heart," Jarik said in a tone that was both angry and sad. "But this has gone on long enough. I promise not to harm him. Go, let me remind this wretch of his wedding vows and how to properly address a lady."

Jarik hauled Kurit to a chair and dumped him in it, his boots crunching bits of broken glass along the way. He looked at me with great sorrow and closed the door.

I clutched the sheet around myself and went back out to the receiving room. I fell onto the couch there and began sobbing anew, feeling completely helpless. Leiset sat with me, and we held each other, crying.

After nearly an hour, Leiset and I sat silently in each other's arms, tear stains on our cheeks but no more to fall. We could hear nothing of what was occurring next door, for which I was thankful. Had Jarik been thrashing Kurit as I know he wanted to, there would have been a great deal of noise. Then Jarik was back in the room. I didn't look at him. I just sat shivering in the sheet, feeling like a lost child.

Leiset slipped out of our embrace, rose to allow Jarik to sit beside me, and then left the room. I still couldn't look at Jarik. He put his hand on my head and caressed my hair.

"Aenna," he said softly, "I didn't do anything to him. I didn't so much as touch him once I closed that door." He put his other hand under my chin and turned my head to face him. "All I did was tell him bluntly that he's behaving abominably. I reminded him of honour, of duty, and even recited his wedding vows back to him. I made no threat nor curse. As furious as I am, I would not do anything to him that would cause you pain or worry." He rubbed his thumbs against the streaks of my tears.

"So what am I to do now?" I asked. My throat was so sore from crying that the words came out as a harsh whisper.

"Come," he said and pulled me into a loving embrace. His strong hands were comforting on my back. "He won't see you again tonight. I told him not to. I sent him to go sleep in a guest room and told Gilrin to fetch some maids to clean up the mess of glass and drink. Your room reeks of it as well. I'll carry you to another bed anywhere else in the palace, if you like."

I shook my head. "It won't take long to clean up the spill on my floor, and the smell will be there for days, so I may as well get used to it."

He placed a tender kiss on my forehead and said, "It's going to get better, Aenna. I think I got through to him this time. And you know that I am always here for you. You should try to sleep now. Your poor face is lined with fatigue. But if you cannot sleep and you need me to sit with you or talk to you or hold you or anything else, you need only summon me and I'll be here in a moment." He forced a tired smile and said, "I'll even come sing you a lullaby if that's what you need."

I smiled sadly at him. "You're very good to me. Thank you."

"I care very much about you, Aenna. Not just because I'm your Champion." My heart fluttered as I suspected he was about to admit the love I knew he had for me. Instead, he said, "I care for you because you are my Queen, you are the wife of my cousin, and most of all because you are my dear friend. Promise me that you'll summon me if you need me."

I nodded. He offered to carry me to my bed, but I said I had to change into a more appropriate nightdress. He nodded, held me again, and quietly left.

I tossed and turned all night in alternating fits of sadness and anger. A thousand potential conversations and lonely daydreams cluttered my mind. As a result, I was in a particularly foul temper when Kurit found Jarik and me the next morning in my workroom. He asked to speak with me alone. Jarik eyed him warily, but I agreed. Jarik left the room.

Kurit watched him go and then said, "He protects you well."

"Yes, he does."

Kurit ran his hands through his hair and sighed as he sat down across from me. "It's rather pathetic that he has to protect you from me." I said nothing, so he continued. "Aenna, the things I said to you last night were cruel and inexcusable. I'm sorry."

I didn't believe him. I suspected that he wanted to be sorry, but I could not believe that he actually was. "Where does this end?" I asked. "You lash out at me and then come to apologize. When will your apologies actually hold meaning?"

He looked at me with obvious guilt on his face and said, "This one does."

"For how long, Kurit? Until the next time you're angry? Until the next time your mother irritates you? Until the next time you're pressured for some other reason?"

He sighed again. "What do you want of me, Aenna?"

I smacked my open hand on the desk. It hurt, and I was sorry for having done it but refused to let him see that. "I want my husband back!" I said through clenched teeth. I managed to compose myself enough to add, in a gentler tone, "I want the man who held me and loved me before I was abducted. I want you to be that man again."

He no longer looked sorrowful. Bitterly, he said, "People change, Aenna."

I felt cold inside and made sure he heard that in my voice. "Yes, well, you just keep on pushing me away, then. Perhaps I'll make changes of my own."

His face grew dark. "Are you threatening to leave me?"

"That would be difficult since you've already left me. You may be here in body, but your soul is drowned somewhere so far inside you that I can't see it. I meant that I'm going to stop fighting to hold onto you. I love you, Kurit. You just continue stomping angrily on that, and we'll see what happens."

"I can't understand why you would still love me," he moped.

I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not going to play your games of self-pity, so you can stop right there. I love you, Kurit. I shall always love you. But if you don't love me anymore, at least have the decency to tell me that I might stop waiting for you to return my affections."

"And that's your favourite game, you know," he spat. "You accuse me constantly of not loving you just so I'll have to say it." He rose angrily from his seat and began to pace about the room.

"It shouldn't be something you say because you feel you have to!"

"You should know that I love you. I shouldn't have to tell you all the time."

I closed my eyes and laughed a bitter, sad laugh. "I'm not saying you have to tell me so all the time. But you never say it unless you're apologizing for something."

"That's because you always have me apologizing."

My tone became very sarcastic. "Oh, fine. I am forcing you to have to apologize. I lead you by your little hand and make you do all these things and move your lips for you to say those nasty, cruel things that you do."

"Look," he shouted, "I've said I'm sorry for how I behaved last night. And I am. But I'm not going to stand here while you mock me."

"Then go, Kurit," I said, pointing to the door. "Your mother undoubtedly awaits you to speak more words against me. Then come back when you're ready to lash out at someone. Your target shall be sitting right here as I always have been."

He kicked the chair and shouted out a curse and then stormed out.

Moments later, Jarik tentatively opened the door. "May I come in?" he asked.

I nodded. When he had closed the door behind him he said, "That did not go well, did it?" When I didn't answer, he swore and sighed. "Curse it, Aenna, I honestly thought he'd apologize."

"He did. I just wasn't willing to accept another meaningless apology." I looked at Jarik's sad face and said, "I'm glad you spoke to him last night, but it didn't help. I don't imagine anything will at this point."

"Tell me what I can do to help you," he said.

"At the moment, nothing. I want to get some things done this morning, and I will push him out of my mind as I do so. Then I shall spend the afternoon with my son and let him cheer me. If you wish, you can join us then. Raelik likes it when you hold him up high. You're the tallest person he knows." I smiled at the thought.

"I shall await you then. I'll be right out here in the Great Hall."

I nodded. "I shall find you there when I am ready to go to the nursery."

He forced a little smile and left.

### Chapter 18

KURIT AND I AVOIDED each other for the rest of the winter, which meant he also avoided being near his son. When he did grace us with his presence, he was surly and morose.

When we celebrated Raelik's third birthday, Kurit sat at the back of the room, annoyed that he hadn't had a drink all day. Jarik stood near him.

I chased my little boy around the parlour as he ran with ribbons trailing from his sweet little hands. I caught him up in my arms and tickled his tummy, making him giggle in delight.

When I set Raelik back on the ground with the ribbons tangled in his fingers, he turned to face his father. Kurit neither beckoned to nor smiled at the boy, so I was not surprised when Raelik ran to Jarik to untangle the ribbons. Kurit was, however, quite taken aback as Jarik scooped up the giggling child and began to pull the ribbons away playfully.

Thankfully, Raelik was so entertained by Jarik's teasing and games that he did not see his father rise and storm from the room. Jarik glanced at me to let me know that he had noticed Kurit's abrupt exit but remained intent on keeping my son entertained.

Kasha rose silently and left as well, which didn't bother me in the least. I don't imagine she had spoken more than ten words to me since Tarken's death. I overheard her belittling me still, but because I avoided her she rarely had the chance to do so to my own face.

I refused to let the sullen duo ruin Raelik's day. I laughed and played with my precious boy and my dear Jarik for the remainder of the afternoon.

In the evening, Kurit came to my rooms, ready to fight. I took a deep breath to calm myself, knowing that losing my temper with this man would accomplish nothing.

"Well, this is just splendid," he began. His words were slightly slurred, and I knew he was quite drunk. "You've got my people worshipping you, saying prayers at your statue, and praising you as a living Goddess. You've got my cousin and best friend despising me, and now you've got my son choosing Jarik over me. How else would you like to destroy me?"

"I thought perhaps I'd take your armies to Wusul and add a province or two to Keshaerlan. Then I shall change the direction of the Great Kal just to spite you," I said coldly.

"Oh, you're very funny, Aenna. I'll fetch you a set of jester's toys, and you can juggle them whilst standing on your head at the next Council meeting."

"If that's what Your Majesty wishes," I said with a voice dripping forced sweetness as I rose briefly to curtsey.

His eyes narrowed in fury. "I won't let that overgrown Champion of yours steal my son," he growled.

It was such a ridiculous accusation that I could not help but burst into laughter. A dangerous look entered his eye, but I could not help myself. "Kurit, you fool," I said, laughing, "Jarik doesn't want to steal Raelik! We'd all be delighted if you'd spend more time with him. He loves his father, and you don't care!" I stopped laughing at my last words.

The anger left Kurit's face and was replaced by his more typical sadness. That pained look always made me want to hold him, but I was long past the point where I would let myself do so. I had learned to steel myself against his cycle of anger and sorrow.

He ran his hands through his hair as he always did when upset. "I do care. Seeing him choose Jarik over me today..." He sighed. "That cousin of mine wins over me too often. He is already your preference. I don't want him to become Raelik's as well."

"Jarik is not my preference," I retorted. "I wish every day and night that you would be as you were, that I might come to you for friendship and comfort rather than relying on him. And Raelik only knows what he sees, Kurit. He sees Jarik all the time, always being playful and affectionate. He rarely sees you, and when he does you're usually in a foul temper. If you were three years old, which man would you choose to play with?"

He staggered to a chair and dropped himself into it awkwardly. He stared at the floor, eyes distant and glazed. Then he sighed, and again I had to resist comforting him.

"Kurit," I said, keeping my voice level, "if you wish to catch the attention of your son, you need only spend time with him. And if you feel you cannot do so because you do not wish to be near me, then I shall set aside time when I am not with him."

He put his head in his hands, and I wondered if he was weeping. He had been known to isolate himself in his room or a tower and cry when drunk. I had heard him myself on more than one occasion, yet when I had tried to console him later he had been furious with me for knowing of his weak moments.

"I want to spend time with both of you," he whispered. "I want to, but I can't."

I sighed, knowing this would be one of those heart-wrenching, cryptic conversations in which he'd try both to tell me why he had become this miserable shell of a man and at the same time to withhold from me those secrets.

"Why can't you, Kurit?"

He mumbled slurred words into his hand, and when I asked him to repeat them he just sat in silence.

"Kurit, I'm not going to sit here while you tease me with letting me understand you, only to withdraw from me a moment later. It's too hard on me. But I will say this: the warmer weather has been making me want to take Raelik into the garden to play. I've been waiting only for the ground to dry some more, for I don't want him rolling about in that much wet mud. No doubt we'll start going out there regularly soon. If you wish, I will let you know when we're going out to play, and you can join us. Raelik would be delighted if you'd come and play with him. He loves his father very much." I paused before my next words, considering the wisdom of saying them. I decided I wanted to say them, wise or not. "And I love you and miss you as well."

He stood up suddenly, and I thought he was angry. He hurried to the door as though I had threatened him somehow. He paused, his hand on the knob, and without looking at me said, "I want to join you. Tell me when you are going to the garden with him." Then he opened the door and left.

So, when spring came, Kurit, Raelik, and I would go out to the gardens frequently, often joined by Lyenta. At first, I could tell Kurit was making a concerted effort to remain mostly sober and to be pleasant. Fortunately, however, I did not allow this short-lived trend to inspire me to thoughts of a healed marriage. He soon became increasingly irritable when invited out to join us, and I suspected it was because we were cutting into his carefully balanced schedule of drunkenness.

One bright, sunny afternoon he was in a particularly foul mood. The weather had been wonderful the previous three days, so we had been outside in the afternoon of each day for several hours. As a result, Kurit had stayed up later at night to drink and suffered headaches the next day. I had told him to remain inside if he was not well, but he had grumbled something incoherent and followed me out to meet Lyenta and Raelik in the garden.

So Kurit sat with his eyes squinted against the glare of outdoor light, his arms crossed and an angry look upon his scrunched-up face. Raelik kept looking to his sour-faced father and would almost become upset. I managed for a while to distract him with a ball, but soon his attention could not be drawn away. I worried that his sad little face would burst into tears and was even sadder when it didn't. I realized he was getting used to Kurit's moods, and that broke my heart.

Unable to bear the scene, I said, "Kurit, dear, if you are not feeling well, you should go back inside."

He cast me an irritated look and muttered, "You want us to have these ridiculous father-son playtimes outside. So I'm here. Don't keep changing your mind, Aenna. I don't dance that fast."

I resisted the urge to point out to him that he was hardly participating in a father-son playtime. "I'm not changing my mind, Kurit. I just don't want to see you uncomfortable." I saw Raelik looking from his father to me and back again and wondered how much longer it would be before he knew his parents lived in misery. My heart felt heavy at the notion of my innocent little boy learning so soon of such awful things. I forced a smile and called to him, trying again to distract him with the ball.

For a minute or two more he played with me happily, but then once again he looked to his father. A sweet smile spread over Raelik's face. He grabbed the ball in his chubby hands and ran joyously over to Kurit with it. The little boy offered the sour man the ball, holding it out in his small arms proudly and saying, "Papa, here's the ball for you."

Kurit made no reply, which Raelik decided was part of this new attention-getting game.

"Papa!" cried Raelik. Kurit ignored him, choosing instead to squint his face in another direction. "Papa Papa Papa!" Raelik squealed with delight, his little legs stamping happily as he chanted.

Finally Kurit looked at him and said, "Papa doesn't want your ball, Raelik. Take it to your mother." His voice was strained with irritation, but I breathed a sigh of relief that he did not snap at the child.

"Raelik, dear, come to me," I said. "Papa doesn't feel well."

The boy just giggled and continued to yell out, louder and louder, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" Kurit closed his eyes to shut the world out, but Raelik would not be ignored. He threw the ball happily at Kurit, obviously trying to initiate a game. Unfortunately, the boy managed to flip the ball right into Kurit's face.

Because Kurit's eyes had been closed, he was taken by surprise and fell backwards off the bench, legs and arms flailing. Raelik giggled hysterically at the wild scene, but I already feared the coming result and leapt to my feet.

Sure enough, Kurit stood up and began to yell at his son. "What in the Temple's name do you think you're doing?" he shouted, looking as though he wanted to pick the child up and throttle him. I ran over to pull Raelik out of the way, a maternal fear seizing my mind and filling it with horrific images of Kurit harming my boy.

Kurit brushed the grass from his arms and backside angrily. "You do not throw things at people's heads! Hasn't your mother taught you how to behave at all?" he yelled.

Raelik burst into frightened sobs and turned himself away from Kurit, into my arms. He clung to me in terror as I picked him up and tried to calm him. I couldn't even hear Kurit's next shouts over Raelik's loud cries right beside my ear, but I clearly saw my husband's fury.

"Enough, Kurit!" I shouted.

Kurit stopped speaking and seemed to suddenly see the scene before him, as if he had not seen us the moment before. His face fell and his shoulders slumped, yet I did not feel the least bit of sympathy for him. I was enraged and wanted to attack him for his behaviour towards my baby boy. But the crying child in my arms needed to be calmed, so I simply turned my back to Kurit and walked towards the pale and shaken Lyenta.

I tried to softly soothe poor Raelik, bouncing him in my arms, speaking hushed words of affection. When his crying became more of a need for continued comfort than sobs of terror, I looked to Lyenta, who was still facing where Kurit had stood, and whispered, "Is he still there?"

She shook her head. "No, Majesty. His Majesty left when you walked this way."

I sat back on the grass with Raelik in my arms and cuddled him until his tears stopped. I spoke to him as happily as I could in an effort to cheer him up. After some time of pleasant words and Mumma's tickles, he was made to smile again. But when Lyenta offered the ball, his small face grew sad and he clung to me again. I asked Lyenta to take it away and bring another toy. She went quickly to do so and returned a few minutes later with a wooden horse.

Between us, we were able to interest Raelik sufficiently that I was able to excuse myself and head into the palace to find my wretched husband. I went first to his workroom, but he was not there, so I went upstairs to the south wing.

Jarik stood at the hallway entrance and blocked my way. I was furious at Kurit and in no mood to let go of my anger long enough to deal with whatever Jarik's problem was. I glared at him and tried to pass. He stopped me.

"Not now, Jarik," I said quietly, trying not to snarl at him.

"I saw what happened. I was on my balcony, watching over you as always, and I saw it all," he said.

"I'm delighted you were entertained so," I snapped and tried again to duck around him. He was, of course, too fast for me and prevented my passing again.

"Aenna, don't go after him now. You're furious, and understandably so, but you'll do more harm than good in this mood."

"I no longer care what good comes out of my marriage," I whispered forcibly, "for there is no good in it. But I will not abide him to destroy my son. Let me pass, Jarik, or I'll fight you to pass, and though I shall not win, I shall make an ugly scene of it nonetheless."

Jarik sighed. "He's in his rooms. Kasha is with him. Don't put yourself through this, Aenna," he said sadly as he stepped aside. I shot past him and went straight to Kurit's chambers, not even pausing to knock on the door.

Kasha was indeed seated there with him. In Kurit's hand was an almost empty glass.

Kasha glared at me for my rude entry, but I refused to even return her gaze. I looked directly at Kurit and announced, "I would like to speak with my husband alone."

"I am his mother, and my son holds no secrets from me," she replied darkly.

Still keeping my eyes locked on the sullen and well-on-the-way to drunk Kurit, I said, "I would like to please speak with Kurit alone." I emphasized the 'please', despite knowing that it would do no good. Sure enough, Kasha remained still in her chair.

"Fine," I snarled, deciding that I wasn't going to be dissuaded by her presence. I stepped closer to Kurit and spoke in a low tone of fury. "If you want to live inside a liquor bottle and treat me as dirt, that's one thing, Kurit, but don't you dare, don't you ever treat my son like that again!"

"You are dirt," Kasha said coldly, "and deserve to be treated as such. And Raelik does not belong to you. He is Kurit's son, the heir to the throne. You are but a peasant in pretty clothes and should feel fortunate that we allow you to even be with the boy."

Kurit rolled his eyes, sighed, and muttered, "Mother, don't. Not now."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to ignore her. I knew that her words were spiteful and meaningless, and I pushed her out of my mind. I asked Kurit, "How could you treat him like that? He's just a little boy!"

"And if you continue to treat him like one, he'll end up as unworthy of the crown as you," Kasha droned.

"Mother, that's enough!" snapped Kurit. His face then fell, and he muttered to her, "Leave us, please."

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. I saw her eyebrows raised in indignation, but nonetheless she took her leave.

When she was gone, Kurit's face grew dark and angry. "Don't you ever embarrass me or question my actions in front of anyone ever again," he growled.

I crossed my arms angrily and said, "I asked her to leave."

"You should have waited until later," he said, rising to pour himself another drink.

"When?" I asked coldly. "Should I have waited until you had had enough to drink that you could forget what you had done to your son?"

"I did nothing to him," Kurit grumbled as he drained half of his glass in one gulp. "I just didn't feel like playing with the ball. Pardon me if I have more important things to do!"

"Really. Like drowning yourself in that glass," I retorted.

"Aenna, that's far enough!" Kurit shouted, pointing a threatening finger at me. "I've tolerated your little jabs to my limit. I don't want to hear another snide comment about the fact that I enjoy the occasional drink."

I could not help but chuckle. "Occasional?" I said incredulously. "Kurit, it's not occasional when you're too ill of drink to stand the sunshine and too upset at being sober that you scream at your son for no reason."

Kurit's face turned red as he shouted, "I didn't want the cursed ball!"

"He was trying to cheer you up!" I shouted in return. "He's a good little boy who saw his papa was upset, and he was offering you something he likes as a gift to you, as a way to make you smile. Now, if you want to pretend that you don't have a problem and these 'occasional' drinks aren't making you treat me with anger and disrespect, that's one thing, because I'm an adult and I can take it. But I will not stand by while you hurt and confuse an innocent child for no good reason!"

"What do you mean, you won't stand for it? Who do you think you are?" he yelled.

"I'm your wife!" I said in loud exasperation. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"No, but you seem to have forgotten your place."

My eyes widened, and my outstretched hands sank to my sides. I blinked at him in awe and quietly repeated in question, "My place?"

Kurit threw back another swallow of his drink and took an angry step towards me. "You seem to forget that I am the man here. I am the King, my word is law, not yours, and I was the one born into this life and educated to properly handle it."

I sighed and shook my head. My hands on my hips in frustration, I said, "I see now what is going on here. Your mother has gotten to you." I looked at him in earnest and asked, "Do you no longer find me as worthy as you once did? Now you throw this in my face, that I am but a simple peasant girl?"

"You're twisting my words," he muttered. There was a hint of shame in his voice, but he was still too angry to admit any fault.

"No, I don't think that I am," I said, feeling miserable. "Your mother has poisoned you against me."

His fury returned and he shouted, "Watch your tongue! I've had enough of the way you treat her!"

Aghast and baffled, I stammered, "What? How I treat her? I don't, I can't understand... how can you say that?" I threw my arms in the air again and cried out, "I have always tried to respect her, but she despises me unfairly!"

"She does not. She's just trying to protect me from you. If you gave her half a chance—"

"Give her a chance! By the Temple, Kurit, I have tried everything I can think of to please her! If I knew how to earn her acceptance, I would do it! I can do nothing to please her! I run circles around myself trying to do the right thing, to improve things—"

"Oh, yes, let's not forget the Great Goddess Aenna and her wonderful little peasant market," he said bitterly, eyes narrowed.

Again I was caught off guard by his words. My mind reeled at his accusations and became tangled in his absurdity. "What do you mean by that? Now you don't approve of what was done? I don't understand," I said with a sigh.

His face took on a look of what I can best describe as revulsion. I took a step backwards from him, horrified at his venomous glare. In a voice dark with fury and loathing, he said, "Well, that's the problem, isn't it? You don't understand me at all." Then he turned his back to me to pour himself another drink. "Get out of my sight," he snarled.

I closed my eyes for a moment in shocked sorrow. My head pounded, my chest ached, and my limbs felt as stone. I could not believe, even after all the other bitter fights and angry words, that he could be so cold to me. I turned as I walked to the door, but before opening it I asked the dreadful question, "Do you have any love for me left in your heart?"

I looked over my shoulder to him. He was leaning on the table with both hands as though he were in great pain. He said nothing. I waited a few moments, but he neither moved nor spoke, so I left in silence.

Jarik was in the hall, but I deliberately did not look at him. In my heart I longed for his comfort, but I felt so despondent, and I did not wish to inflict my misery upon him. I tried to pass him out of his reach, but of course he would not allow it. He put his hand on my arm to stop me as I passed. I diverted my gaze at first, hoping he would give up and let me go. When he did not, I slowly turned my eyes towards his, which were filled with sorrow.

I knew I was going to break into tears soon and did not wish to do so in the corridor. I wanted to say something to assure Jarik that I would be fine, but I was so heartbroken that I could not conceive of the words. Instead, I heard myself whisper, "I simply do not know what to do anymore."

He pressed his lips together, though in anger or sadness I could not tell. "Go to your chambers," he said softly. "I shall join you there in a few minutes."

"No," I whispered. "Don't go to him now. He'll be furious and think that I sent you. And he's in no condition to understand any message of reason."

Jarik nodded slowly and led me instead to my chambers. Once behind the closed door, my tears began to flow. I did not sob, though, for I was so drained by Kurit's horrible words that I lacked the energy to make a sound.

Jarik led me to the couch, where he sat with me and embraced me tenderly. I cried silently against his shoulder for a few minutes and then, my throat sore with grief, whispered, "I don't know what to do. Soon the people shall know their King to be a drunkard, and whether or not he continues to manage his affairs well, they shall decry him. His rule will weaken to a dangerous point."

Jarik said nothing but tightened his embrace slightly.

"I feel as though I ought to know what to do," I continued, though even whispering made my knotted throat ache. "I keep imagining that I should have some divine, regal knowledge as Queen that guides my hand, but it is not there. He doesn't listen to me. He actually denies that he has a problem. Meanwhile, Kasha continues to speak against me, diminishing any chance I have to get through to him."

I sat up and dried my cheeks with my handkerchief. "I don't understand her. Why does she make things worse? Why does she insist on hating me so?"

In a voice deep with heartache, Jarik said, "Because she is not as wise as you. She was never the Queen that you are, and she hates you for it. Her hate grows with every person who worships you out of love when none worshipped her but out of fear. You stole the love of her son, her people, and even her husband adored you."

"Tarken loved his wife. It broke his heart that she despised me," I muttered.

"She put him in a position of choosing, and he chose you, Aenna. Your youth, beauty, intelligence, and wit enchanted him. Compare that to his angry, bitter old wife. I'm not saying he desired you in an inappropriate fashion, for he was a good man who loved his wife, but you touched his heart, and Kasha will never forgive you for that."

"Kurit just accused me of being harsh to her."

"That's certainly backwards."

"So I said." I sighed and stared at the grain of the wood table.

"He's reversing it in his own mind because it's easier to get angry with you than her," Jarik explained. "Well, he does get angry with her," he said, correcting himself, "but it does no good. It never has. He used to get furious with her when she would belittle his friends in their presence. I think one of the reasons he and I grew so close was because she held her tongue where I was concerned. I am the son of Tarken's sister, and Tarken would not abide her to badger me. But all of our other friends and peers were driven away by her acid tongue and cold wrath. It didn't affect me because I paid her little heed and frankly didn't see solitude as a sorrowful thing."

Jarik stared into the air before him as he recalled earlier days. "But Kurit, he has always liked to be around friends. I think he would like to have more grand balls, more parties, and more friendly gatherings with a circle of friends. But she drove them away. Do you know, that's why we were at the outpost when we met you? Ostensibly, we went for training, and Kurit was supposed to be working on some long-term scholarly project for his father, but he didn't even take the books, and you of course know that there was no trainer with us.

"He had just had a terrific spat with his mother. It had been years since he'd had the chance to make a new friend, and Kalren's son Mardek had come to study some of the archived texts in the palace library. Kurit and Mardek became fast friends, and I liked him as well, but Kasha..." Jarik sighed. "Kasha had to make it an issue. She had to belittle Mardek on every fault, every misspoken word, everything that ever went wrong in Estebek. At first it was just confusing. There was no reason for it, so Mardek admirably ignored her. Then she took to calling him the 'travelling ruffian', which made no sense but grew to irritate him. It became clear that her jabs themselves were meaningless and often incomprehensible, but the intent was to insult. He could not go through a meal without hearing something from Kasha. Eventually he wearied of it, received permission to borrow the texts he needed, and left Endren.

"Kurit was furious—bewildered, but furious. He knew that she deliberately drove his friends away but could not understand why. He felt that he might lose control and say something unbecoming of a son, and certainly inappropriate to a Queen, so we concocted the need for him to be away, far away, where she would not trouble herself to visit. We had been at the outpost for nine days when you stumbled into our lives."

I sat quietly and considered Jarik's story. Hearing it, her behaviour towards me began to make a twisted sense. She couldn't abide anyone to steal her son's attention, except perhaps the like-minded wife she had chosen for him in Sashken. I realized then why she despised me.

"He stormed away, having lost yet another battle to her, and then returned with a peasant girl to marry. I was her ultimate fear—I was everything she could not abide," I said. After another pensive pause, I asked, "Jarik, do you think I was merely a convenient way to get back at her? Did Kurit want me just to punish her?"

Jarik quickly shook his head against the idea. "No. He wanted to avoid trouble, not court it. I truly believe that he failed to consider Kasha's reaction until he was actually speaking to her again. I think he became swept up in love for you and happily forgot about his mother."

I rose and walked across the room. I stood staring at a landscape painting, wishing I could live inside its gentle fields and soft breezes, wishing to be anywhere but where I was at that moment. "So what's to be done now?" I asked.

Jarik sighed and said, "The drinking has to be curtailed, if not stopped, before he does something regretful."

"He doesn't listen, Jarik. You've spoken to him. I've spoken to him. Today he snapped viciously at his own son. Nothing gets through to him."

Jarik rose and came to stand behind me, putting a hand of comfort on my shoulder. "I know that this isn't what you want to hear," he said, "but I think that it might have to get worse first. He has to do something stupid enough to make the problem obvious to himself. Where reason fails—"

"Suffering prevails," I finished, as in the very old and well-known poem. "But in that poem, the warrior Prince knows only the folly of others, not his own. Not until it is too late and his family is dead."

He put his hands on my arms and turned me to face him, but I kept my head low, not wanting to see the pain that I knew would be upon his face. He put a gentle hand under my chin, though, and lifted my eyes to his own. Then he said with clear sincerity, "That's not going to happen to you and Raelik. I wouldn't let it happen. Nobody in this city would let that happen. I shouldn't have mentioned it. It just popped into my head. I'm sorry."

I sighed and said, "No, I know it's not the same. We're not at war with our own people as in the poem. I am more concerned for Kurit's safety than my own. He could fall down the stairs, lean out of a tower window and fall to his death, or any other number of things. He could be killed, and we can't let that happen. I can't wait for tragedy before I act." I went back to the couch and sat there listlessly. "But I don't know how to act. Could we have Tash speak to him?"

"I tried that. I didn't tell you because Tash said Kurit laughed him off. Called him a doddering fool."

My bitter anger came back, and I said, "Why won't Kasha say something? She must see that there's a problem. She can't possibly want her son to be suffering like this."

Jarik said nothing but turned his face away from mine in that way I had well learned meant that he was hiding something from me.

"What is it? What troubles you?" I asked. He did not answer but kept his face turned. "You don't think she deliberately guides him to the drink, do you?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

He sighed and muttered, "Aenna, really. You don't want to know."

"Jarik, if there's something you know that can help Kurit—"

"It won't help him. It's the cause. Part of the cause, I think. I'm not sure." He grumbled and ran his hands through his hair. That gesture of frustration was uncommon to him and reminded me of Kurit. My heart sank.

"Tell me, Jarik. You cannot protect me from this."

He glanced at me sadly, then turned away again. "There have been times, Aenna, when you are in your workroom or safely in the nursery with Raelik that I have not stood outside the door but instead have sat with Kurit and Kasha in the parlours. I've been present when she speaks ill of you. She tells him that you are the cause of his problems, that you seek to destroy him for your own power since you would be regent until Raelik is of age to rule. She turns your words into venom and tries to convince him that you neither love nor need him."

Jarik turned his eyes to me again and held his hands out in supplication. "I am sorry, Aenna. I have tried to defend you, but she orders me away. She..." He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. "She has also threatened that if I allow myself to be taken in by your supposed enchantments, I shall be asked to leave the palace."

I bolted upwards from the couch in anger and shouted, "She wouldn't dare!"

"Perhaps not now, but at the time of that particular threat she was still Queen, and she meant it. Regardless of that, she tells Kurit that he has no problems, he is doing nothing wrong, but that you are bewitching him to make him doubt himself and weaken his will."

My head swam in fury, frustration, and sadness. I dropped myself back down to the couch and put my aching head in my hands.

Jarik was soon back at my side with an arm around my shoulders. "He doesn't believe it, Aenna," he said emphatically. "You have to know that he is not blind, he knows his mother is mad with hatred, and he doesn't believe her words. Not in his heart. He loves you. That hasn't changed. I know him, and I know that inside that drunken fool is the Kurit we used to know, and he adores you, and it's probably killing him in there to know he's hurting you and now his little son. But Kasha is driving him mad, and being unable to fight her effectively, I think he instead seeks to drown his tortured self."

He pulled my hands from my face and softly said, "Look at me, Aenna." I did so, and he said, "Kurit loves you. Don't lose sight of that."

I felt my heart seize in agony again at Jarik's words. I whispered aloud to him the thought that had haunted me for weeks: "I don't think he does. I don't think he ever truly did," I confided. "He was infatuated, confused perhaps by feelings of gratitude, perhaps unintentionally seeking a way to rebel against Kasha, but I doubt now that he ever truly loved me as much as he thought he did." To speak these thoughts to another person made them seem real. The pain of it was almost unbearable.

Jarik pulled me close to him suddenly and roughly. He wrapped his arms around me protectively, as if he wished to shelter me from my own words. "Oh, sweet Aenna," he whispered, rocking me as I felt tears roll from my closed eyes. "Good Lady Aenna, that is the most despicable crime, that he would make you think that. His love was true. I knew him better than anyone, and the light in his eyes when he beheld you could not have been contrived and does not come from mere infatuation."

"Then what has changed?" I asked, my words muffled with half my face pressed into his chest. "I asked him just now if he still loved me, and he would not answer."

"Don't take that as a lack of love. He is battling against himself to control the demons in his soul. He may have forgotten how to express his love, but it can't have faded."

"How can you be so sure?"

For a moment he held me without saying anything, and then he pushed gently on my shoulders that I might sit up and look at his face. His gaze held mine as he brushed tears from my face. "Because any man who doesn't love a wife such as you is a fool, and despite his recent behaviour, Kurit is no fool."

I felt very weak and pathetic sitting there crying as this good man tried to comfort me and failed. In an attempt to regain some semblance of self-control, I slowly rose. I walked again to stare into that landscape painting and let its tranquility wash over me. I closed my eyes and felt my pain falling into the back of my mind, as if being slowly draped by a thick curtain. It was still there, I was very aware of its presence, but I pushed it out of reach for the moment. I could not stand to envision myself so helpless as to continue weeping in Jarik's arms when there was no point to it, no comfort in it.

I opened my eyes again. The painting had not changed, though I felt that if I stared at it long enough, I might see the wind brush through the waves of grass. An odd calm settled my mind.

"Your words are kind, Jarik, but I still don't believe it," I said. My voice sounded as though it were outside of me. I sounded very much like a Queen to myself. "I must accept that either he loves me no more, or perhaps he does as you say but it is meaningless if he finds himself fighting against it."

The curtain had drawn closed on my agony, leaving me serene and detached. "I can go on," I said, for it was the truth. "It is hard, but I am strong, and I have my son to love and his love for me. I have dear friends in you and in Leiset. It remains my duty to ensure the people do not learn of the King's failings."

I turned to face him with what I imagined to be an elegant smile. "I shall wear a happy mask and assure them that all is well." I let the smile fade and said without any emotion at all, "If the Kurit that loved me as you say he did still lives inside that man, then I shall pray he surfaces one day again, but I cannot wait for it nor rely on it without risking my son, myself, and this kingdom."

Jarik rose from the couch, though he did not approach me. "I have always known you to be strong and greatly respected that in you, but it is terrible to hear those words, Aenna. You deserve so much more."

I expected his words to impact me, but the curtain remained closed and I felt nothing. No anger, no sorrow, no joy—nothing at all. "We only deserve what we earn," I said. "I have earned the respect of the people. I have earned the adoration of my son. Of those things I am confident. But somehow I have failed to earn the continued love of my husband. I must still attend to my duty. Duty cannot be sacrificed because we don't like something in our own lives." I wondered if I looked as stalwart and regal as I felt.

With great elegance, Jarik approached, took my hand, and bowed to kiss it kindly. "And that, Your Majesty, is why you are a good Queen, though it saddens me to hear you say such things. You treat others with kindness and respect, and you ought to be treated likewise. Don't imagine Kurit's weaknesses to be your fault. Mark my words, dear Aenna, the time will come when he shall see his folly and he will learn to conquer his demons and love you again, as one so magnificent should be loved. I just pray that he doesn't destroy your good heart along the way."

Then he reached out to touch me with what would have been inappropriate affection from any other man. His fingers gently drew along my cheek and down my chin. Then he turned them around and ran the backs of them softly down my throat. His hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed it tenderly. "But that's why I am here, as a friend to Aenna, as Champion to the Queen," he whispered in a voice rich with love. "I pledge to do all that is in my power to ensure that his madness does not destroy you. Please, do not shut your emotions away and become cold, unfeeling. If you must do that in public, then do so, but with me, I ask that you be true to yourself."

Still numb, I managed to serve him a tiny smile as I said, "You are a good man, Jarik. I am not proud of needing you, but I can't imagine what I'd do in these times without you."

"You will never have to learn that, good lady. I am eternally here for you." He pulled me into an embrace.

As he held me, pledging devotion to me that should have been supplied by Kurit, I found myself drifting to thoughts of how different my life might have been if I had fallen in love with him instead, if he had not claimed to be the Prince at the outpost. I chastised myself for the thought, but I could not banish it entirely from my mind, not even after he left the room.

### Chapter 19

KURIT TOOK TO hiding in his chambers or workroom for several days following that awful fight, though I did not know whether he did so out of guilt, anger, or revulsion towards me. To be quite blunt, I didn't care. I still very much loved my husband, but this drunken wretch was not the man I had married. It mattered not to me what this Kurit felt, for I did not know him—and did not wish to. I was quite happy to allow him to avoid me.

Then late one evening as I was reading the previous month's tax records as part of my attempt to prove to myself, if not anyone else, that the market was already a success, I realized that the numbers simply did not add up as they should have. Upon careful inspection of the mathematics that led to the various totals, I saw errors in addition as well as several instances of transposed digits. These calculations were Kurit's work; he had signed the forms himself. It was obvious by the scrawling handwriting, the messy, scratched-out portions, and the errors that he had been drunk when the calculations were made.

I sighed in exasperation. Flipping through other recent sheets, I saw that the frequency of the errors had increased quite dramatically since the night after our last fight. I realized he was drinking so heavily now that he could not even function in his most basic duties.

"By the Temple and all that's sacred, Kurit," I muttered aloud, "let us pray that nothing needing of a King's proper attention should arise."

Then I reconsidered my own words. I decided it was insufficient to pray that nothing should go wrong. It became clear to me that I could no longer be complacent about this issue and hope that kind words or occasional nagging might do some good. It was absolutely ridiculous that a King should be so irresponsible that he could not write up a simple accounting calculation without so many errors.

I gathered the sheets together and went to the door between our workrooms. Just before I opened it, however, I caught the sound of Kasha's quietly condemning voice. I could not hear specifically what she said to Kurit, but by her tone it was safe to assume that she was, as usual, belittling me.

Not wishing to spark another interlude like the one several days before, I returned to my desk and waited silently until I heard Kurit's inevitable angry reply. A moment later I heard his other door open and close forcibly. Foolishly, I did not give him time to calm himself from his mother's visit. I went immediately into his workroom without even pausing to knock on the door.

He was standing across the room, pouring himself a drink, as was to be expected. When I entered, he turned and glared at me.

"Go away, Aenna. Whatever brings you here, I'm not in the mood to discuss it," he grumbled.

"I care not for your mood or whim, Kurit," I said acidly in return. "You're the King, and you have duties to uphold, whether or not you find it pleasurable or convenient."

He rolled his eyes at me—a move he knew infuriated me. I forced myself to remain calm despite his attempt to bait me. He took a long pull from his drink, then said, "What have I done now to displease you, Majesty?"

I began to explain to him, as calmly as I could, that his forms were full of mathematical errors. He cut me off in mid-sentence and said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well, then I suppose I'm just not as bright as you, am I?" He slammed his glass down on the table and then waved his arms in mock prayer and said to the ceiling, "I am not worthy to work under the Great Goddess Aenna! Gods above, your Goddess here in human form has found another of my transgressions. Strike me down, if you will!" He returned his mocking eyes to me and sneered as he picked up his glass once more.

"Kurit, you're being ridiculous."

"Of course I am, dear Goddess. I am but a lowly man and not as able or bright or inspired as you. Please, do continue to illustrate my stupidity to me, that I might benefit from your all-encompassing wisdom."

Instead of having the sense to leave him to his drunken mockery, I allowed myself to be pulled into his madness. Angrily, I slammed the pile of forms on his desk and shouted, "That's enough, Kurit! Look at you! I've given up trying to help you or understand you, but I'm not going to stand idly by while you throw your kingdom into disarray with your drunkenness!"

His face became red with anger as he stormed to where I stood. "You will not speak to me in such tones!" he shouted, waving a scolding finger in my face.

"Somebody has to!" I yelled. "You have lost complete control over yourself!"

"No! I've lost control over you!" he bellowed.

In what seemed the flash of a second, I found myself struggling to open my eyes, my face tickled by the rug. I realized I was on the floor, though I knew not why. I became aware of Kurit's voice above me, but it took me a moment to comprehend his words.

"... I didn't mean to, Aenna. Please wake! By the Gods, what have I done? What have I done? Aenna, my dear sweet Aenna, please..." he repeated in a terrified sadness. His hand was shaking my shoulder frantically. When he noticed that I was stirring, he hurriedly said, "Aenna! Aenna, I'm sorry! I can't imagine what possessed me to strike you!"

When he spoke those words, the memory of what had occurred replayed instantly in my mind. He said that he had lost control over me. Then his pointed finger had closed into a fist, and he swung at my face, the back of his hand landing on my right cheek. So heavy was the blow that it had sent me spinning across the room. I recalled trying to catch myself on a chair but instead had stumbled over it and fallen to the floor, momentarily stunned into unconsciousness.

My husband had struck me. The very hand that had once touched my cheek in gentle adoration had now been used as a weapon upon that cheek. A rage unlike I had ever known filled my mind.

Kurit was still rambling with his sorrowful apologies. I glared at him, and he stopped, removing his hand from my shoulder. He looked at me through eyes red from tears and tried to touch my arm with some kind of sorry affection. I moved myself out of reach and tried to sit up, never ceasing my glare, though it did waver when I was hit with vertigo from sitting up too quickly.

"I shall run and fetch Tash," Kurit said. "Be still, Aenna. I shall bring him at once." He began to rise, as did I. "No, Aenna, you mustn't try to stand," he said. He came to my side and tried to touch me again.

In fury and disgust, I moved myself away from him and managed to rise to my feet. I used my anger to lend me strength as I had when returning to Endren from my abduction. My head swam with dizziness, and my stomach lurched, but I had found a wall on which to lean and was able to remain still and continue to glare at my husband.

He stood helplessly across the room from me, not knowing what to do, it seemed. Tears of great regret rolled down his drunken cheeks, but they served only to fan the flame of my fury. He held out his hands plaintively and said, "I didn't mean to strike you."

It was such an absurd statement; how could one put their fist to the face of someone they supposedly loved and then claim that it had not been intended? His adamant plea for my immediate forgiveness enraged me all the more. Without a word, I stumbled to the door and out of the room.

"Aenna, please!" he cried out behind me. I shut him out of my mind as I climbed the stairs as quickly as I could.

He did not follow me. I looked behind me when I reached my chamber door, and he was not there. Still furious, I stormed into my rooms and called out loudly to Leiset. She hurriedly came out of her room. Before she could speak, I began issuing orders, keeping my head low so she would not see the swelling I could feel growing on my face. "Pack yourself a bag, Leiset. We're going to the royal cottage. I'll gather my own things together. Move quickly, and once you have what you need packed, go and summon the coachman. Tell him we're leaving immediately. And while you're downstairs, arrange for guards to ride with us. Actually, before you go downstairs, go please first to Jarik's room and tell him we're going to the cottage, and that he may join us if he wishes and if he can pack a bag quickly enough. I'll take care of fetching Raelik and Lyenta. Go, now, Leiset. Move quickly."

She did not move. She stood there stunned, and in retrospect I do not blame her. "Aenna, by the Temple, what is it? I don't understand," Leiset said.

I looked up at her angrily, and she caught sight of the swelling on my right cheek. I could feel it throbbing, and I imagined that it must already have been quite red. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She rushed to my side and said, "No, this can't be what I suspect it to be. Oh, Aenna—"

I held up my hand to silence her. "There is no time for this now, Leiset. We are leaving the palace tonight before anyone can see me. I won't have this kingdom fall apart because of rumour and accusation. Go now. Do as I ask, please."

Leiset nodded. "For how long should I pack?"

My mind was operating in a single line of thought and clinging to that line desperately. I was unprepared for the question, having not thought that far ahead, and felt my grasp on stability slip as a result. I shook my head to regain control and bluntly answered, "I don't know. A month, perhaps. Perhaps longer."

Leiset nodded again and began to carry out my requests quickly. I went into my bedchamber and started piling clothing on the bed. I did everything in a deliberate, calculated fashion in order to prevent any anomaly from shaking my tenuous grasp on sanity. I found my travel bags and began carefully folding the clothes into them. Leiset entered at some point and said that she was going to alert Jarik, the coachman, and the guards.

"What should I tell Jarik?" she asked tentatively.

Again, I was unprepared for the question and had to force myself to concentrate on my one clear intention of leaving the palace. "Just tell him that I'm leaving on an urgent journey immediately, and since he will be upset if I go anywhere without his protection, he may as well hurry up and come along."

A few minutes later, Jarik came running into the bedchamber. I continued my packing, which kept the injured side of my face away from his view.

"Aenna, what is it? What's this nonsense about leaving in the middle of the night?" he asked.

"Just go and pack your bag if you're coming along," I said without emotion.

Of course, he could not accept such a reply. He came to me and put his hands on my shoulders as he asked, "What has Kurit said to you now?" Turning me towards him, he caught sight of my swollen cheek. His eyes widened as Leiset's had. "By the Temple, Aenna..." he whispered in shock. He tried to pull me into an embrace, but I would not let him.

"Jarik, not now. Go and get your things if you're coming with me," I said, wriggling my shoulders out of his hands. I turned back to the task of packing, but from the corner of my eye I saw that he was no longer sad. His face had grown dark with anger, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

"Don't just stand there, Jarik. The coach will be leaving the courtyard very soon, and if you're not there, then believe me, I shall go without you. Choose now whether it is more important to you to go and bludgeon Kurit or to come with me. Quite frankly, I no longer care. But the coach will leave with or without you." I fastened my bags shut and lifted them from the bed. As I tried to pass him, he took them from my hands.

"Go and fetch your son, then," he said quietly. "I'll carry these and collect my own things together, then meet you in the courtyard in less than five minutes."

I nodded and let him take my bags, as I did feel a little wobbly still from the blow.

I hurried to the nursery, afraid that Kurit would be in the corridor, but he wasn't. I picked Raelik up out of his bed, bundling him in a blanket as I did so. I whispered to Lyenta that we were leaving the palace immediately and that she should quickly gather together whatever she and Raelik would need for perhaps a month's stay at the cottage.

"Don't fuss over anything," I said. "Just do it quickly and bring the bags down to the courtyard."

Raelik stirred momentarily in my arms but dropped back into sleep as I cuddled him to me. I left the nursery, walking as swiftly as I could without jostling my son awake. I found it difficult to go down the stairs, as I had to support myself on the banister, leaving only one tired and trembling arm to carry Raelik against me.

When I finally reached the bottom, I saw light coming from Kurit's open workroom door. I looked in that direction and saw his silhouetted figure there, watching me. I then turned away and walked through the Great Hall as though I had not seen him.

It was not long before we were all in the coach—Leiset beside me, Jarik across from me beside Lyenta, and Raelik asleep in my lap. As the coach began to move, Raelik sat up and blinked in wonder. He looked at me and sleepily asked, "Mumma?"

"Hush, sweet boy," I said softly to him as I pulled him into a hug. "We're just going on a little adventure. We're taking a trip to the cottage, and there we shall play in the fields and I shall teach you to swim in the lake. Would you like that, Raelik?"

He nodded, yawned, and nuzzled his head into my shoulder. I cooed at him awhile longer until he fell back asleep. No one else spoke a word, thankfully, and I took to staring out the window at the darkness. I had deliberately chosen the seat that put my right side towards the window so the others would not have to continually avert their eyes from what felt like an enormous lump on my face.

As we rode along, I clung to my little boy, frequently kissing the top of his head. About an hour into the journey, Leiset broke the awkward silence by asking if I wanted her to take Raelik for a while.

"No," I whispered. "I could not bear to let go of him right now."

Halfway to the cottage, the coach paused at the rest station that had been built in the aftermath of the unpleasant ride to the cottage on my wedding night. I allowed Lyenta to take Raelik from me, knowing that he would need to be taken to the outhouse. Leiset went with them, leaving Jarik and me in the coach alone.

"Are you going to go outside as well?" he asked.

Without looking at him, I shook my head. He moved from his bench to sit beside me and tried to take my hand. I pulled it away from him, knowing that if I looked at him or touched him, the pain of what had happened would become real to me. I did not wish to break down when I would still have to spend another two hours in this coach with my son.

He tried again to touch me in comfort, so I said, "Not now, Jarik. Not yet."

He removed his hand and whispered sadly, "I understand." Then he left me alone in the coach, and I let my mind go numb, just as it had when I was locked in the box under the cart, courtesy of my abductors.

When they came back to the coach, Raelik was awake and chattering excitedly. He scrambled into my lap and told me in his sweet little child's voice that Lyenta had let him pat the horses. I wrapped my arms around him and feigned interest in an appropriate, motherly way, asking him about it and letting him babble to me. Soon I said, "Raelik dear, I'm sure you'll have all sorts of wonderful adventures starting tomorrow at the cottage. Why don't you sleep now in Mumma's lap so you can play all day long tomorrow?" I kissed his forehead and snuggled him against me, loving him entirely. He spoke to me a short time longer and then eventually fell asleep in my arms.

We all sat in an awkward, tired silence for the remainder of the trip. When we arrived, Mikel awaited us at the door.

"Majesty, your messenger arrived an hour ago to say you were coming," he said nervously, no doubt wondering why we would be arriving so unexpectedly and in the middle of the night. "Pirine is just finishing putting fresh sheets on the beds. Forgive us, Majesty. Had we known you were coming we would have been better prepared—"

I held up a hand to quiet him, my other arm carrying my sleeping son. "Don't fret about it," I whispered. "It was urgent that we come tonight. Whatever you see or hear while I am here is to be considered extremely private and not to be discussed with anyone." My mind was still on its directed track of emotionless activity as I passed Mikel and entered the cottage.

"Of course, Majesty," I heard him say behind me.

I carried Raelik swiftly upstairs to the makeshift nursery. Pirine saw that the child was sleeping and kept thankfully quiet as I put Raelik in the small bed. He did not wake, even as I kissed his sweet forehead goodnight and left him and Lyenta in the room together.

I went to the corridor to find Jarik, Leiset, and Pirine standing there. They watched me, unsure what to do next. "Make yourselves comfortable in whatever rooms you wish," I said quietly as I walked past them to the master bedchamber. "We shall remain here until my face no longer bears a mark. If anyone should ask, this is merely an unscheduled vacation because I have felt fatigued lately."

As I reached the bedchamber door, I realized that I had also reached the end of my clear and linear plan. I had known what I wanted to happen and what I would ensure did happen until that last instruction. Having completed that, I was plunged into a frightening lack of knowledge or direction. My fury at Kurit had fuelled me to that point, but misery quickly came to replace the anger.

The thought of something else to tell those still standing in the corridor fluttered briefly in my mind, but by the time I had opened my mouth, I couldn't remember what I had wanted to say. I became confused and disoriented, and then I was hit by such a wave of anguish I could barely manage to turn the doorknob and enter the bedchamber.

Only two small lanterns were lit in the room, providing enough light to move about but not so much as to banish the darkness. Because of this, the room was eerie and made me shudder. The sight of the bed where Kurit had first made love with me broke my heart, and I wondered what madness had possessed me to come here and suffer these memories. I put my hands to my face to stifle a sob, for I was still beside the door and did not wish to be heard in my weakness.

Unable to bear the thought of touching the bed where Kurit had loved me, I went instead to the small couch at the other end of the room and sat with my head in my hands. I wept quietly, hoping no one would enter to see how wretchedly pitiful I had become. For that was what I imagined myself—a pitiable child, broken-hearted that her bard-song romance was truly over. Kurit had become some other man, some terrible, brutish dog who seemingly held no love for me. I ached miserably as I longed for the man I had known. I thought of his old roguish grin and wept all the more for missing it.

I heard the door to the hall open but did not look to see who entered. I prayed that they would see me in sorrow and leave me be.

I realized it was Jarik as he sat beside me on the couch and put a gentle hand on my back. His touch was so kind and warm, I could feel the heat from each finger through my dress. I was tempted to revel in the warmth of his hand, but the guilty thought made me feel even worse.

"I cannot talk about it now, Jarik," I whispered, trying very hard to prevent my voice from quavering.

"I don't care if you wish to speak or not," his voice rumbled softly. "But I am not about to leave you alone in here to suffer without comfort."

I tried to brush the tears of shame from my face, but new ones kept replacing them. I hated myself for being so pathetic. "I am alone," I muttered.

"No, Aenna, you're not," he whispered. Though I tried to shrink away from it, he pulled me into an embrace, wrapping his warm, strong arms around me. I wanted him to go, but I felt so safe and loved in his arms that I could not tell him to leave. Again, the miserable guilt of enjoying his touch while so missing the man to whom I was wed combined to turn the knife further into my heart. I burst into body-wrenching sobs against Jarik. The more I wept, the greater shame I felt, and the worse the tears became.

He pulled me up into his lap to cradle me against him as he might a child, rocking me slowly and whispering kind words. He kissed my forehead frequently, resting his cheek against my hair the rest of the time.

Soon fatigue wore down my sobs into a numb flow of quiet tears. He lifted his head from mine and looked at me with tender concern, gently stroking my wet cheek. I tried to escape his gaze, but my eyes were locked to his, and I could not break the hold he had on me.

"He struck me," I blurted out.

Jarik nodded sadly.

"I knew I couldn't stay in the palace. I knew I could not remain there, sporting his bruise, causing scandal and demonstrating that he broke his own law. I had the presence of mind to come here, but, Jarik, whatever do I do now?"

"I don't know, Aenna," he said softly. His voice was very deep with the late hour and his sorrow for me. "I wish I did. Truly, Aenna, I wish I had all the answers for you. All I can tell you is that you are not alone in this. I shall not leave you alone. I shall not let further harm befall you. I shall remain at your side and do whatever you need of me."

I rose from his lap and poured myself some of the water that Pirine had thoughtfully placed in a pitcher on the dresser. I took a sip of it, letting the coolness soothe my sore throat. Then I pressed the glass to my burning cheeks. It ached, and the minor physical discomfort of it was oddly soothing.

After a moment, I set the glass down and sighed. "I can't help but feel awful for pushing him to this," I whispered.

Jarik was suddenly behind me, his hands on my shoulders, turning me about rather roughly. "No!" he said loudly. His face was stern as he repeated, "No. Aenna, you did not cause this. I will hold you, I will support you, I will do what I can to soothe you, but I will not abide you to blame yourself! You will cease such thoughts immediately, Aenna."

I closed my eyes and tiredly tried to explain. "You don't understand. I wanted to get through to him, but instead I infuriated him and—"

"Stop it, Aenna," he commanded, giving me a slight shake. I opened my eyes and looked at him in exhausted sorrow. He pulled me to him in a tight embrace and declared, "There is neither justification nor reason for what Kurit has done to you this night. The only just provocation of violence is defence against violence, so unless you physically threatened him, he had no right to strike you. And I very much doubt you threatened him, did you?"

"No, I did not," I whispered sadly into his chest.

"Of course you didn't. You earned his wrath as much as that woman you rescued in the market earned the wrath of her husband."

"That was different," I said.

"How so?"

"He kept her locked up like a slave and beat her maliciously and frequently."

"The difference is only in duration and severity, not in morality," Jarik said. "Only a man lacking in honour would strike his wife."

"Stop, please," I whispered as I pulled out of his embrace. "You may be right but it only breaks my heart to hear it." I was so tired and upset, I found myself needing to lean on the back of a chair to keep myself upright. "It does not help me to hate him. He's still my husband. And he's still your King."

Jarik nodded and said no more against Kurit. Instead, he softly said, "It is quite late, Aenna. You are barely able to stand. I shall call Leiset in from the adjoining room to help you change your clothes and go to bed."

Soon after, when I did finally slip between the covers and put my head on the pillow, I worried briefly that I would not be able to sleep because of my heartache. But no sooner had the thought left my mind than I succumbed to weariness and depression and slept.

### Chapter 20

I WOKE THE NEXT morning to the sound of Raelik's laughter echoing in the corridor outside of my room. I could hear Lyenta trying to hush him, but it sounded as though the boy was in a mischievous mood and paying no heed to her instruction.

Wearily, I rose and staggered to the door. When I opened it, Raelik ran inside giggling, Lyenta in chase close behind.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Majesty, he's just so very excitable this morning, waking up in a strange place, and—" Lyenta stopped running after Raelik when she caught sight of my face. "Oh dear," she said, putting her hands to her face in shock.

"Mumma!" Raelik hollered and laughed. I turned to face him and was greatly dismayed to see his smile drop instantly from his face when he beheld mine. He pointed out his little index finger slowly and sadly said, "Ouch."

Above and behind him was the dressing mirror. I caught sight of my reflection and understood their reaction. A grotesque purple swelling sat upon my cheek, and the darkness had spread beneath my eye. I watched myself raise a hand to my face. It was quite warm to the touch and ached. When I blinked, I could feel the swelling beneath my eye, and it was rather disconcerting.

I became so captivated by my image that I almost did not notice as poor little Raelik's lower lip began to tremble. I returned my attention to him just as he began to cry.

"Oh, Raelik, it's all right now. Come to Mumma," I said, squatting down so he could run to my arms. I picked up him and held him tightly as he cried quietly—a pitiful, small sound unlike any cry I had heard from him before. "There now, my precious boy," I cooed as I carried him to the couch and sat him upon my lap. "Mumma's got an ouch. But it will go away, and I shall be fine."

He stared at it sadly, fat tears rolling down his baby cheeks. How was I to make him understand this? How was I to explain to my innocent boy that his father had caused me this pain? I could not bear to even ponder telling him such a thing.

"Mumma fell and bumped her head, Raelik. That's all," I lied. I forced a smile and said sweetly, "I shall be perfectly fine in a few days, you'll see. Now, give me a kiss like a good boy and let Lyenta take you down to breakfast. Then you and she can go out and play in the trees. Wouldn't you like that?"

He knelt up in my lap and kissed my unbruised cheek, still looking very sad. His expression broke my heart anew. I wondered how much longer I'd be able to protect my baby boy from the harsh realties of life.

"Go now with Lyenta," I said to him, brushing his tears away. He shook his head and clung to me. Lyenta tried to coax him away from me, but he only cried out in anguish and balled his fists in a firm grip on my nightdress. I wrapped my arms around him again and told Lyenta quietly to leave us alone for a short while.

I sat rocking my son in silence for some time, praying in my mind that this unpleasantness would not shape his future temperament. Unfortunately, that hope seemed less than realistic when Jarik entered the room and sat beside us on the couch. When Jarik put a kindly hand on my arm, Raelik shoved him away angrily.

"Raelik!" I exclaimed. "That's not behaving like a nice boy."

Jarik said in a calm, supportive voice, "He's protecting his mother like a good man, aren't you, Raelik?" The boy turned his head away, burying his face in my shoulder. Jarik whispered, "I should have made you hold something cold to your cheek last night."

"And I should have thought to do so myself," I muttered.

"Is it painful today?"

"A little, but not an unbearable ache. It just feels tender," I said.

Jarik nodded. "I'll warn you now, it's going to look worse before it looks better."

"I know," I said. "A boy I knew in my childhood liked to provoke bigger boys into fights. His face always bore hideous colours."

He nodded again, sighed, and said, "I shall fetch you a cold compress for it now. Or are you coming downstairs to eat something?"

I kissed Raelik's head and said, "What do you say, Raelik? Are you going to let Mumma change her clothes so we can go have breakfast?" He looked up at me with sad eyes and said nothing. "Please, Raelik. I shall be fine. Why don't you go with Jarik?"

"No," he said defiantly.

"Why ever not? Jarik is your friend, isn't he? Jarik is my friend."

Raelik turned in my lap to glare at Jarik.

Thankfully, Jarik had more sense than I did and better understood my son's young male mind. "Raelik, good man, how would you like to be your Mumma's Champion today?" Raelik's glare ceased, and he looked at Jarik instead with a curious interest. Jarik held out a hand to him and said, "Well, if you are going to be a Champion to a great lady, you must understand that you need to let the lady get dressed alone. Come, then, Raelik. You can stand guard outside her door. And later I shall teach you how to hold a sword. Would you like that?"

Raelik finally went to him, putting his small hand in Jarik's enormous one. Jarik led him out of the room and had him stand facing my door at attention. When Jarik entered again for a moment to pull the door closed, I went to him and whispered, "I don't want you giving him weapons!"

"Oh, Aenna, I'm not going to give him a sword! I'll let him hold mine and perhaps have Mikel make him a small blunt wooden one with which to play."

"He's only three years old. Can't the battle games wait?"

"When I was five I could throw a knife and hit a target with appreciable skill," Jarik said. "He's a growing boy, Aenna. He's going to be a King. He should feel comfortable with a weapon in his hand. He may be quite young, but look at how he stands to guard you." I looked past Jarik to see my small son standing with his hands still on his hips. Were his face not so very serious, he would have been laughably adorable. "Let the boy pretend to be a man today, Aenna. Let him think that he's protecting you from whatever he imagines caused you that bruise."

I nodded, pressing my lips tightly together to keep myself from weeping at the thought.

Jarik left and closed the door behind him.

Of course, I wasn't the least bit hungry, but I forced myself to eat enough at breakfast that Leiset and Jarik would not nag at me or fret further over me. Afterwards, Jarik took Raelik outside to play. I sat on the balcony attached to the master bedchamber to watch them. Jarik was very good with my son—letting him put his hands on the sword and try to lift its weight, but all the while the man kept the boy's hands from approaching the sharp edges.

I found myself angry with Kurit that he was not the one sharing these masculine lessons with his own son. Jarik was so kind and attentive with Raelik, as he always had been. Kurit couldn't be bothered to play with a ball long enough to please the child.

The longer I watched, the more upset I became. I soon retreated into the bedchamber and closed the curtains to shut out the tenderness that taunted me so. I sat in the darkened room and let my emotions flow from anger to depression and then back, cycling around and feeding on one another until finally that blessed numbness of despair settled over me once more. I just stared into the air before me, hearing my own breath and thinking how very odd it sounded.

I do not know how long I sat that way. A knock came at the door. I said nothing, so Jarik slowly opened it to peer inside, perhaps thinking I had been sleeping. When he saw me in the chair, he entered and sat in another chair nearby. For some time we sat in silence—one that I imagine would have been quite uncomfortable had I not been so numbed.

Finally, he cleared his throat softly and said, "Are you able yet to tell me what happened?"

And so I did. Coldly and without tears, I related to him the details of what had led to Kurit striking me. I was as forthright as I could have been and made sure to explain that Kurit did express great remorse immediately after his horrible act. I spoke without passion or inflection of any kind.

When I reached the end of the tale, he said nothing. He sat quietly again for a few moments and then rose and stood by the bed. He leaned on one of the bedposts, gripping it in his hand tightly, his other hand a clenched fist at his hip. He sighed and then clenched his jaw in anger. But still, he said nothing.

"I'm sorry for putting this on you," I said flatly.

He laughed—a terrible, cold, and bitter laugh—and muttered angrily, "You didn't drag me into this, Aenna. But I would dearly like right now to drag that wretch down a rocky path for some time and then dunk his head into the Great Kal until his sense returns to him."

"You must not retaliate against him, Jarik," I said bluntly. I rose and stood beside him to ensure that he wouldn't dismiss my words. "I am not excusing what he has done, but he is the King, and if the people were to learn he has become such a drunken mongrel, it could be disastrous for Keshaerlan. Besides, did you not just tell me that violence is wrong?"

He let go of the post and stood before me with his arms crossed over his chest. Ignoring the quip about violence, he said, "Aenna, if your loyal worshippers—peasant and Lord alike—find out about what he has done, we could very well find an armed revolt on our hands. The peasants of Endren alone would demand retribution for their beloved Queen."

I nodded and sighed. My numbness waned, and the frustrated pain came back into my heart. I stepped up to Jarik and let him put his arms around me. It was such dear comfort to put my head against his warm chest and to feel his enormous hand cupping my head gently. I closed my eyes and tried to banish away my angry and sorrowful thoughts, wanting instead so much just to enjoy this good man's kind touch.

Without warning, he squeezed me tightly to him, lifting me almost entirely off my feet. His body shuddered as though he were struggling to not let me see how awful he felt. A moment later he relaxed, letting me back down to the ground but still keeping his arms around me. I thought for a moment that I was trembling, but then I realized it was in fact Jarik—the big, strong, resilient warrior—who trembled in rage and sadness.

He stepped back slightly from me, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking at me very intently. He moved his hands, taking my head in his them softly and rubbing his thumbs over my cheeks. Then he closed his eyes and leaned forward, putting his lips tenderly to my forehead. He kissed me there several times and then wrapped his arms gently around me once more. I buried my face in his shoulder.

"I will do whatever I must to make things well again for you, my dearest Aenna," he whispered roughly. "I am forsworn to be your Champion in all things, even if that means dealing with—"

A loud knock at the door cut him off. He stepped quickly away from me, as though it was improper of him to be comforting me.

"Come," I said.

Leiset entered quickly and said, "I'm sorry, Aenna, I know you wanted to be alone but—" She noticed Jarik there and seemed somewhat startled. They exchanged an odd look that I could not interpret. Then her eyes returned to me, and she said, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Mikel says there approaches quickly a man on horseback. He saw the lone rider crest the hill in the distance just moments ago."

"It's Kurit," I said, quite sure of it. A surge of emotions threatened my mind, but I forced them all back with the thought, He's a fool to travel without guards. That alone will cause undue attention.

"I suppose I shall have to start dealing with that part of being your Champion right away then," Jarik said.

Feeling quite exhausted with the entire situation, I said, "I don't want to see him. I can't bear to hear him tell me yet again how very sorry he is. I don't care how sober or drunk or sorry or angry he is. If I see him, I shall go mad, I swear it."

"He shall not reach you," Jarik declared. "I shall ensure it." The big man put a gentle hand on my arm and led me to a chair to sit. Then he beckoned to Leiset and said, "I'll handle my cousin. You stay here with Aenna and lock the door behind me."

"What about Raelik?" I said quickly. "I don't want him near Raelik either."

"Raelik and Lyenta have gone down to the lake," said Jarik. "It is unlikely that they would return so soon."

Jarik left, but when Leiset went to lock the door I said, "No, don't close it. Keep it open enough that I can hear them. If Jarik begins to throttle Kurit, I'll have to go and get my hands into it. I won't let this Kingdom fall apart, even if Kurit deserves the disgrace."

Leiset nodded. "I shall stay by the door, then, and watch," she whispered. "I can see the stairs well from here and will lock it quickly should Kurit manage to slip past Jarik."

"He won't. Nothing slips past Jarik," I said with certainty.

"Well, he's standing on the stairs right now and..." Leiset sheepishly closed the door.

"Don't close it," I repeated.

"I have to. Jarik's glaring at me dreadfully."

A short time later, I heard the noise of the main door downstairs being thrown roughly open.

"She's here, isn't she?" I heard Kurit's voice echo through the house.

"Open the door, Leiset, and tell me what you see," I said quietly. She nodded and slowly opened the door just enough that she could peer through the crack with one eye.

"Where is she?" Kurit said loudly. "Is she up there?"

"He's trying to get around Jarik, but Jarik won't move," whispered Leiset quickly.

"She's here and she's safe," I barely heard Jarik growl. "And she shall stay that way."

"I want to talk to my wife," Kurit shouted.

Leiset looked to me and shook her head. "Jarik's blocking the stairs," she whispered and then looked out again.

"Curse it, Jarik, I want to see Aenna."

"I can't let you do that," my Champion declared.

"I must speak with her!"

"She's not ready to speak with you."

They were quiet for a moment, and Leiset whispered that Kurit had backed away from the stairs such that she could no longer see him. But I knew what he was likely doing. He would be standing there awkwardly, running his hands through his hair, feeling sorry for himself and wanting to be forgiven yet again. I felt my blood boil at the thought.

"Jarik," I heard Kurit say, "I realize that you're protecting her, and believe me, I appreciate that. But I'm cold sober right now. I haven't had a drink since before I..."

There was a pause, and then I heard Jarik say, "Before you struck her?"

There was another long pause. "I want to apologize to her, Jarik. Please, just let me see her for a moment. Stay in the room with us if you like. I wouldn't dare harm her. I couldn't bear to hurt her again. I'd rather take my own life."

"Kurit, she clearly said that she doesn't want to see you. She knows you are here. If she wanted to hear your apology, she'd come down from her room to listen to you."

"Fine," Kurit said unhappily. "I do not wish to upset her further. By the Gods themselves, I can't believe I've done all of this to her. When do you think she'll come home?"

"I cannot say. But I do know that she intends to keep herself hidden here until her face no longer bears your mark. She is adamant that no one in Endren must know what you have done because she fears your rule will crumble as a result."

"Indeed. I've broken the very law she fought to have established. I suppose by rights I ought to order myself to the dungeons for it." Kurit was quiet for a moment and then asked, "Is it bad? The mark you of which you speak, is it awful?"

"Yes. Half of her face is swollen and purple. You must have struck her very hard," Jarik said with a brutal tone.

Kurit said something very quiet that I could not hear, though it sounded perhaps as though he were weeping. Then I barely heard his distraught voice say, "I don't know what to do now."

"Go home," Jarik said. My Champion's voice lost its hard edge, and I suspected Kurit's emotional state had affected the big warrior. "Kurit, go back and think. Think long and hard and look inside yourself to determine why in the name of the Temple you would do such a thing. Figure out why you have been such a drunken fool these past years and do something about it. This won't happen again. I won't let you do this to her anymore."

"I know. Neither will I."

"Good. So go home and look inside yourself to determine why you've sunk so low."

"I can't imagine why I've been so stupid. And worse, I've known all along I was being stupid." Kurit's voice changed, becoming angry again, and he said, "I can't believe what I've done, Jarik, but ever since she was abducted I just don't know who I am or where I stand."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I don't know," Kurit said, his voice falling back to sadness. "Everything has just been thrown into disarray, and nothing I did fixed anything. It just got worse."

Leiset looked at me and whispered, "Jarik has gone down the stairs. I can barely see him now."

"Is it perhaps that you resent her for being so popular amongst the people?" Jarik asked.

"No," Kurit scoffed. "I may have said things of that ilk to her, but that's not it. Not really. I was actually quite proud of her."

"Then why didn't you just say so?"

"I don't know, Jarik. I was already too far gone by then. I love her. That never changed. It just became, I don't know, something terrible instead of something wonderful."

"How could loving that woman ever be terrible?" Jarik asked incredulously.

"I can't explain it, Jarik. It's everything. The abduction. The fact that she had to save herself while I wept like a child in my soft bed. The fact that she had the strength to go and do wonderful things and make people love her while I sat in the palace hearing my mother drone on about how Aenna was ruining me. Loving her just began to hurt all of the time."

I felt a sinking sensation in my abdomen, and thought I might be sick. My head reeled. In that moment, all my anger at him became turned against myself. I was revolted that I had not seen this in him. I felt a wretched guilt that my presence had, in effect, destroyed his soul. Now he longed to tell me that he was sorry for what he had done, and still I could not bear to look at him. I felt as though I could not breathe and prayed that the Gods would indeed stop my breath in that instant, that I might no longer be a curse to him.

"And now?" I heard Jarik ask.

"It's the worst thing in the world to know with a clear, sober head what I've done. I loathe myself for doing this to her."

Hearing that, I loathed myself in kind. I should not have let him convince me to return with him from Mikilrun. Kasha had been right after all—I was destroying this man, though I had not intended to do so.

"Close the door," I said to Leiset. "Close it now. I can't bear to hear any more."

Leiset closed and locked the door as I put my face in my hands and wept. She came to me and put her kind arms around me. "Aenna, don't cry. It sounds as though he's going to make things better now. Kurit's finally woken from his drunkenness, Aenna."

A few minutes later there came a knock at the door. "It's Jarik. Kurit has left, so you can open the door," came Jarik's voice from the hall.

Leiset rose and opened the door to admit him. He glared at her sternly as he entered and said, "You haven't fooled me, Leiset. You were told to lock that door when I left. I could see you peeking through it the whole time."

"Don't be cross with her, Jarik," I muttered sadly. "I asked her to keep it open. I wanted to hear what was said in case things became violent."

He turned his frustrated glance upon me, but seeing me in tears, his face quickly softened to a look of concern. He asked Leiset to leave us alone as he took my hand. "Come, Aenna. Sit with me." I rose and let him gently guide me to the couch. He held me there for a long time, but I felt no comfort in his touch. Instead, I felt guilt for having so loved his touch before. I felt that I had betrayed my husband in such thoughts, and knowing now that Kurit had suffered over me, my crime seemed enormous.

I reached out in my mind for that numbness but could no longer find it. I felt empty and alone. Even Jarik's obvious adoration could not fill the void in my soul. He spoke to me with words of kind reassurance, but I did not hear him. I pretended to respond though I knew full well I must have made little sense.

When finally I had the presence of mind to look at Jarik, to really behold him, I saw before me a strong man weakened by love. There sat a warrior with tears on his shoulder, when he should have been off on some noble quest or other. There sat a good man with love in his heart for me, when he should have been loving a woman who could be with him as he so deserved.

The notion that I was ruining his life as well took hold of my mind, and I could not think it away. The night that I had arrived at the outpost seemed now a curse on two good men. I should have gone off on my own after warning them. At the very least, the arrow I took at the gates of Endren should have struck my heart and saved us all this ridiculous performance of love and pain, I thought.

Emotional and physical exhaustion consumed me, though my pleasant numbness still could not be reached. I asked Jarik to leave me alone, and when he honoured my request, I locked the doors to the bedchamber. I fell into the bed and drifted into a troubled sleep.

When I awoke in the middle of the night, it was to a clear, single-minded purpose. I rose from the bed and, discovering I was still wearing the simple gown I had put on before Kurit's arrival, I changed instead into the finest dress that I had brought with me. It was one of my favourites, a deep blue cloth with edges embroidered in gold. The sleeves puffed gently at the shoulders and were cropped just above the elbow. It was an elegant summer dress, and I felt very regal when I wore it.

I sat at the dresser and slowly undid the messed hairstyle. I brushed my hair for a long time, feeling at ease for the first time in as long as I could remember. I was not numb, and I was not happy. But I felt a strange sense of peace in my decision to remove myself from the lives of Kurit and Jarik as I should have been removed before I had done so much damage.

For that was what I believed in those moments as I brushed and braided my hair: that whether caused by love or jealousy or worry or loss, my presence had brought pain to the people I loved. As I write now, I think back to that night and wonder how I possibly could have been so foolish as to take on such responsibility when I had scolded both Kurit and Jarik for the very same mistake in terms of my abduction. But the fact remains that I believed that I was the cause of everyone's sorrow. I imagined myself quite rational at the time, unaware of just how close to madness I was.

My hair braided, I rose from the dresser and looked about the darkened room. I felt guilty for leaving a mess for poor Leiset to clean up, so I quickly made up the bed and straightened out my things in an orderly fashion. It seemed the proper thing to do.

I wrote a quick note, unable to see my script well in the darkness. It was brief, saying only that I felt I had to go in order to set things right and that I loved them all. I asked them not to weep for me, though I knew even then that such a request had little hope of being granted.

Very quietly, I unlocked and opened the door to the hall. I peered outside, suspecting that Jarik might be there. He was not. The lantern left lit in the hallway banished the shadows sufficiently that I could see his chamber door was closed.

I walked slowly and quietly to the room where my dear child slept, his nurse on a cot beside him. As silently as possible, I went to say goodbye to my son. He slept soundly, a thankful state which I attributed to Jarik's kind attentions. I kissed softly his sweet little head and almost wept at the thought of not seeing him grow. But I had convinced myself that my presence was a detriment to him as well, bearing in my mind the image of his distraught face that morning. It broke my heart to think that he would be upset and not understand why I had to go, but truly, in that moment I felt I was giving him the best life possible by sparing him further witness to my own agony.

I left the room, sad but determined to do what I felt in that moment was right.

I crept through the hall and down the stairs. I went very slowly, putting each footfall down lightly at first to prevent creaking that would alert Jarik. I was not in a rush.

Slowly, carefully, I pulled back the bolts of the front door and lifted the latch. The soft, inevitable click sounded loud, and I held my breath to hear if a sound of movement would come from Jarik's room above. I heard nothing, and so I continued on.

When finally I was outside and closing the door behind me, I felt a sense of peaceful freedom. I hurried down the steps and away from the cottage, towards the bluffs some distance away.

The night air was somewhat chilly, and the darkness of the cloudy night frightened me a little. Then I realized how ridiculous it was to be afraid of creatures in the night when I was on my way to die. Still, every time I heard a sound, I shuddered and moved my feet faster.

After about twenty minutes, I caught sight of the mountain on the other side of the gorge. The light was very thin, but I could see its outline against the sky.

When I was perhaps fifty paces from the edge of the bluffs, a voice behind me made me leap in fright.

"Aenna, what are you doing?" came Jarik's words.

My heart raced. It seemed that he had heard me after all and had followed me. The noises I had heard and assumed to be the stirrings of night creatures must have been him. I stopped walking for a moment when he startled me, but with a sudden determination, I kept going.

"Aenna!" he called, but I kept moving. "Aenna, no!" he cried, and I heard him coming up fast behind me.

I ran with every bit of energy I had in me. I ran towards the precipice, already weeping that he would have to witness this. I had so wanted to go and not be found! With only five or six running paces left to go before the edge, I felt his enormous hands grip my right arm and wrench me backwards. The force of it flung me back to the ground so hard the wind was knocked out of me.

I gasped in a desperate breath and tried again to reach my final goal. But Jarik was already upon me, his arms gripping me tightly and preventing me from moving forward. I tried desperately to wriggle out of his hold but to no avail. I clawed madly at the ground, digging out great handfuls of grass and dirt in a vain attempt to get to the edge of the bluff.

I heard his voice, shouting at me, no doubt begging me to stop what I was doing, but it was all a mad cacophony punctuated by my own screams, which sounded as though they came from very far away.

I beat my dirt-caked fists against his arms and chest and even his face. I began to claw at him, so he pinned me to the ground by putting his knee on my thigh and grabbing my wrists painfully.

"Stop, Aenna!" he shouted. Then he bellowed at me, his words echoing throughout the gorge: "Aenna, don't do this to me!"

I fell limp at the accusation of hurting him. He let go of my wrists and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me to him and cradling me there. I think that I began sobbing, and I think also that Jarik spoke to me, but I can't honestly recall, for my soul had left me and I felt as though I was dead in his arms. I do remember his warm tears falling on my forehead and imagining that they must have felt so warm because my skin was already cold from death.

And then came my blessed numbness. Everything else was gone. I felt neither pain nor joy, neither sorrow nor relief. I was empty of all life and no longer could hear Jarik's litany of heartache and love. I was not sure if my eyes were open or closed, for it was so dark around me. Everything was as nothing.

The next thing of which I was aware was the sound of a knock at a door. I opened my eyes to see the canopy of the bed at the cottage. I let my head fall to the side and could see Jarik at the door to the other bedchamber, where Leiset had been sleeping. I heard Jarik ask Leiset to get up and help him. I expected myself to feel guilty to realize that Leiset would be mortified when she learned what I had tried to do, but I could not make myself feel anything. I could not make myself lift my hands.

I knew myself to be alive, for I could hear my own breath. It sounded strange, as if it were not a part of me.

Leiset opened the door and entered. Jarik said something about me being very ill, and she rushed to my side. I saw her but could not truly behold her. It was as if I was imagining her there and knew better than to interact with a false vision. Yet I knew her to be real. The conundrum of it went in circles in my mind.

"Why is she wearing this dress?" Leiset asked. She took my hand and asked, "Why are her hands full of dirt? Aenna, what is this?" I could not rationalize her existence enough to answer.

"Don't worry about that right now, Leiset. Help me clean her up and get her changed into a nightdress."

"Aenna, I can see that you're awake. Do tell me what's happened, please."

"She hasn't spoken a word since I brought her home."

"Where was she?"

"Never mind that now." He rolled my dress up to my hips and lifted me to a sitting position. "Take the dress from her, Leiset."

"Aenna, why do you stare so? Aenna, please, say something!"

"Leiset, just get her undressed!"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong with her!" She touched my face. Her hands were warm. I think that I wanted to answer her, but it was as though someone had taken all of the words I knew and cut them into ribbons and then scattered them about my head in a great cloud of confusion. And still I felt nothing.

"Leiset, she tried to kill herself. There's no time to weep and fret about it now. Help me get her changed and into bed. Then we shall have to care for her and watch her every minute. She is not to be left alone. Do you hear me, Leiset?"

Leiset was weeping. I could not feel for her.

"Leiset, she needs you to be strong now. Come, help me!"

As they changed my clothes and washed the dirt from my hands, I blinked and fell back into the numb void, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, and not caring if I ever did again.

### Chapter 21

MY MIND WAS locked in nothingness for several days. I was unable to speak even during the rare moments of clarity I experienced between long periods of disassociation. Words slipped through my mind as water does through one's fingers; I could not hold them long enough to put them together. I found it difficult at times even to move, as though my very flesh had become as wood.

Much of the time passed without my notice. I am to this day unaware of what happened during those times. I do not know if I wept or spoke or moved. I had only brief encounters with reality. From time to time I would come back into my own mind and find myself dressed and seated on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket on the couch or perhaps tucked into my bed. I didn't know how I got to wherever I was, and would be momentarily disoriented and frightened.

Then I would always catch sight of Jarik. No matter where I found myself nor what time of day or night I awoke from my stupor, I would be aware of his presence. During the days he would most often be close beside me, holding my hand or perhaps with his hand gently on my arm or shoulder. At night I would be aware that he was in a chair right beside my bed, sometimes sleeping softly, other times watching me intently. His consistent presence came to symbolize to me a rope to reality, a tenuous but unbroken link to sanity.

I wanted so very much to reach out to him, but every time my mind became coherent enough to form that thought, the curtain of numbness would sweep back over me protectively. For to reach for him meant to experience again my sorrows, and my mind simply would not allow it.

Then one afternoon I came out of my numb stupor to find myself seated in a chair with an odd-looking woman staring at me. I did not recognize the pale, thin creature before me until I noticed she had an ugly blue-green patch on her cheek and under her eye. Only then did I realize I was seated before the mirror of the dressing table and in fact looking at myself. I was hideous. Wretchedly, disgustingly hideous. I looked much older than I ought to have, and my face was bony and hard. Though the features were not a match, I reminded myself of Kasha. I looked like a tired old woman, not a young mother and wife.

Yet I could feel nothing at the sight. I knew I ought to have been revolted, upset, or at least mildly concerned, for I looked quite starved with my hollow cheeks. But there was still nothing. No sorrow was allowed to be brought to the surface.

I became aware of a tugging at my hair. I looked up in the mirror and saw that Jarik stood behind me, my hair in one hand and a brush in the other. He was slowly pulling the brush through my hair over and over as though he was in a stupor of his own. He would gather the hair in his hand gently, sometimes running his hand against the back of my neck, and then let the hair tumble from his fingers as the brush passed through it.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as he brushed. I realized after a few minutes that I was actually experiencing something other than numbness. There was a sensation there, and it was a relaxed bliss. I had always loved the feeling of having my hair brushed and pinned by Leiset when she would insist on helping me with the more complicated styles. I would tell her that I felt silly and pampered to let her work with my hair, but in truth I had always delighted in it. It was one of the most soothing experiences I had ever known.

As Jarik continued to stroke the brush through my hair gently, I was able to release myself into the splendour of it. I did not worry about anything, even trying to speak. I just sat in the chair and let his kind touch warm me. When his hand would brush my neck, my heart would beat a little faster, and I allowed myself to relish that as well.

When he stopped, I opened my eyes. I watched in the mirror as he set the brush aside. He pulled aside a handful of my hair and began to braid it. I watched his hands work and became transfixed by them. A warrior's hands, buried in a woman's soft hair, moving not with the speed and deadly accuracy with which they were trained, but with calm, relaxed rhythm. I think that that was one of the most sensual acts I have ever witnessed.

The braid complete, he began an attempt to wrap it into a semi-formal style. He picked up hairpins from the dresser one by one and placed them, but no matter how many he put in place, the wrap would not stay as he wished. Something would always sag or fall out of place, and he would glare at it as a child glares in frustration at a shoelace that simply will not form a bow.

His face was absolutely adorable. Over and over again, he would look hopeful that he had found the secret pin placement that would hold everything properly. Then he would let go of the wrap, and when something would fall out again, he would become annoyed. Several times he unbundled the entire braid and started over again, trying various methods of control. Every one failed.

It was such a strange sight—this large, muscular man struggling in vain with a woman's hair—that I could not help but burst into laughter.

The sudden sound made him look at my eyes through the mirror. He was stunned by my apparent return to life and let his hand fall away from the bundle of hair. Of course, it began again to fall apart, and he quickly tried to catch what he had let fall, but it was hopeless. The sight made me laugh all the more.

Oh, how wonderful it felt to laugh! Life poured back into my soul with every snicker and giggle. The curtain of numbness vanished from my mind, and I could sense my pain there in the background, but in the background it remained. My heart was filled with only mirth and merriment, and I revelled in it!

Jarik eventually left my hair alone and came to stand before me, bending at the waist to bring his face close to my own. As I clapped my hands together joyfully in continued laughter, he reached out to touch my cheek, a most concerned look on his face. Of course, the strange concern made me laugh even harder, and I rocked in the chair with it.

The power of speech suddenly returned to me, though I did not notice it until I heard myself say, "Oh Jarik, you can best any foe in a fight, but you can't make hair wrap around a simple pin!"

I laughed again, merry tears starting to pop out from the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. A smile spread over Jarik's adorable face, and soon he too was laughing—tentatively at first but soon as raucously as I was myself. He took my hands in his own, and I rose to stand before him. He squeezed my hands and then moved his hands up my arms to my shoulders.

"Dear Aenna," he said while still laughing, "your laughter is the sweetest sound I have ever heard!"

His hands gently squeezed my shoulders, and before I realized what was happening, he was pulling me towards him—not in an embrace, but to kiss me. His lips met mine jubilantly, making my heart leap in my chest. It was a short kiss, but when he pulled himself away, our laughter ceased abruptly.

I felt a smile spread over my face as I saw one spread on his. He leaned forward and kissed me again, this time with a sincere passion. I slipped my arms around his waist as he wrapped his around me, pulling me into a loving embrace, our lips moving together. Because he was so much taller than myself, I had to practically lie back in his arms to keep my head tipped up towards him. My heart raced in delight as he moved his mouth against mine, slipping his tongue now and then briefly between my lips. At no time did I even ponder that I was, in fact, betraying my husband. Kurit did not so much as enter my mind as Jarik enticed me with his most erotic kisses.

When finally we stopped, he held me tightly against himself. I felt safer in that moment than I ever had, or ever have since. This man had seen me at my happiest and at my most despondent. He knew better than anyone what pained me, what enthralled me, and what I held dear. He knew my strengths, my weaknesses, my achievements, and my failings. And despite having more than sufficient reason of late to be disdainful of me, there he stood loving me, holding me, making me feel more at peace with my world than I had thought possible, given all that had gone wrong.

After a few minutes in that quiet embrace, I leaned back out of his arms far enough to look up at him. He caressed my cheek, and I smiled at his touch.

"Please tell me that you are back to stay," he whispered.

I nodded. It occurred to me then how awful it must have been for him to have seen me suffer so, not to mention that I had forced him to pin me to the ground to prevent me from killing myself. Guilt settled into my mind, and I said, "Jarik, I'm sorry I put you through—"

He put gentle finger to my lips and shook his head, smiling. "Hush," he whispered. "Let it go. As long as you have regained enough strength to move forward and can allow your damaged heart to be healed, the terrible things that brought you to this point do not matter."

"But I want to explain to you why I felt that I had to—"

He put his other fingers on my mouth to still my lips. "Don't, Aenna. Don't relive what made you feel that you had to die. I read your note. I can guess at what you thought you were doing. But you must know now that it was the wrong choice. I don't condemn you for it, but you must listen to me when I tell you that your death would have solved nothing. It would only have caused agony for those of us left behind."

I closed my eyes guiltily, but he would not allow me to fall back into sorrow.

"Aenna, there are times when death is honourable, and I know you sought that honourable path out of love and not out of selfishness. I know you. But I hear me now: you are a strong and wonderful woman. We need you alive, Aenna. Kurit, Raelik, and I need you. Your people need you. Your death would not have helped us, though I know that's what you intended."

The mention of Raelik made me realize I had no recollection of having seen him during any of my times of consciousness during my madness. "What of my son? Jarik, please tell me he didn't see me staring into space. Please tell me that he doesn't know how awful it was."

Jarik pulled me into another warm embrace and said, "Don't fret, Aenna. We allowed him to see you only when you slept and told him only that you were not feeling very well. We let him curl up beside you at times until he would sleep himself, and then Lyenta would carry him off to his own bed. He has been very worried for you, of course, but he thinks only that you were feeling very tired."

"I should see him. And Leiset. Where is Leiset? Why did she leave you to fuss with my hair?"

Jarik chuckled softly. The sound echoed in his chest and inspired me to cuddle myself against him all the more. "Leiset has been fretting over you such that she became badly overtired. I commanded her to take a day of rest, lest she grow ill with fatigue. I used the logic you once served to me, and she too saw that it would not help you to run herself into exhaustion. She was always concerned that you be dressed and properly attended to, for she feared that if you felt unkempt you would be even more distraught and would never wake from your mad silence. I told her that I could manage to put your hair up for you and sent her off to bed." He laughed softly again and said, "Little did I suspect that I would do such an awful job as to inspire you to return to sanity long enough to mock me."

I giggled for a moment and then sighed happily as I felt him kiss the top of my head. "I suppose I ought to let you finish, then."

"Only if you would allow me to make one simple braid!" He laughed. "I give up on the fancy wrap. You women are all mad creatures to fuss so!"

I sat back in the chair and told him happily to go ahead with one simple braid. "I very much enjoy having you brush my hair, Jarik," I admitted. What reason was there, after all, to hide anything from him?

The warrior smiled at me in the mirror and set about the happy task.

* * *

I spent the next few days learning to feel alive again and trying not to think of the heartaches that undoubtedly awaited my return to Endren. Jarik and Leiset doted on me at every minute, and I was not without one of them by my side at any time. I suspected and later confirmed that they worried I might take my life if left alone to do so.

I tried to explain to Leiset why I had wanted to die. I told her I had no intention of trying again, for the guilt of leaving my son motherless was too difficult to bear. When I told her that I wished the arrow had killed me the day I first entered Endren, that I might have been a favoured memory instead of the cause of such anguish for everyone, she wept and held me. She insisted that I was not the cause of the anguish any more than Kurit or Jarik were the cause of my abduction.

Jarik took to sitting by my bedside at night despite my reassurances that I would not attempt suicide again. He said that he believed me when I said it but feared that, if I were alone, my thoughts would grow dark once more and madness might lead me back to the brink of death.

The only time either of them was not directly beside me was when I played with my son. I suppose they knew well enough that I would not lose myself again to madness in his cheerful presence, and of course I would never harm myself when he could see it. Raelik warmed my heart, and to this day I cannot believe I was able to walk away from him.

The mark upon my face went through myriad revolting shades of green and yellow before it at last began to fade. One afternoon when only a small yellowish bruise remained on my cheek, I asked Leiset to accompany me to the lake.

"I wish to bathe there," I told her.

"Bathe? Whatever for? Aenna, I shall draw you a bath here," she said disapprovingly.

"No, Leiset, I really wish to go to the lake. I know it's not entirely proper for a Queen, but I don't feel much like a Queen as of late. As a girl, I delighted in bathing in a small pond near the Temple Academy—when I could be sure there were no boys nearby, of course. I'd wait for them all to be off in games, and then I'd strip myself bare and swim until dinner. It was such freedom, Leiset. Please, indulge me in this. I do so want to feel that freedom again."

Leiset sighed, crossed her arms over her chest, and muttered, "Very well. But we're not telling anyone. It's quite scandalous, you know."

I laughed. "I don't care if it is. We're far from idle tongues. And we must tell Jarik, lest he fret when he cannot find me."

Leiset sighed in exasperation but gathered towels and bath salts nonetheless.

As soon as we arrived at the small lake's shore, I began to remove my clothes. Leiset grumbled and sighed but did not try to stop me.

"Leiset, you should try it," I said as I slipped into the water. Though it was a warm summer's day, the water was a little chilly against my naked flesh. I clenched my teeth and forced every sensitive part under at once, which made me gasp loudly.

"Indeed, Aenna," Leiset muttered, having heard my gasp. "It sounds positively delightful."

I splashed a bit of water in her direction and laughed. "It's a bit of a shock to get in, but already it feels beautiful."

"You mustn't stay in long," she warned. "You're very thin these days, and you'll catch your death of cold."

"Very well then." I sighed. I swam to the edge near where she sat and asked her to hand me the bottle of bath salts. She did, and when I opened it I noticed it was almost empty.

"Oh, curse it!" Leiset muttered when I told her. "I meant to grab the other bottle. I'm a fool, Aenna, sorry. I should have checked more closely. Is there enough to clean yourself with?"

"Well, it's hard to tell. I think I can make do with this," I said. I didn't want her to have to walk all the way back to the cottage just for bath salts.

"Let me see," she asked. I handed her the bottle reluctantly. She grumbled and said, "I'll run back and fetch more. Why don't you get out of the water then?"

"Must I? It's so lovely in here. Don't bother to go. I'll use what's there."

"Aenna, you'll feel dirty all evening, and you hate that. I'll go and return quickly."

"I don't want to get out of the water, though," I said.

Leiset looked at me seriously and said, "Will you promise to stay near the edge, then? You won't go swimming amongst the reeds at the other end or any such thing?"

I nodded. "I promise, Leiset. I shall be fine."

Leiset sighed and walked quickly back up the path to the house.

I leaned my head back in the water and let myself float happily. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the water around my ears. It was incredibly soothing and, had I been able to stay afloat without effort, I would have gladly let myself drift asleep. Instead, I just daydreamed of my childhood days when I had bathed like this.

Little did I know that, when Leiset returned to the cottage, Jarik saw her enter without me. I learned later from Leiset that he had asked her where I was, and when she had told him she had left me in the water, he flew into a rage. She said that he began to scold her on leaving me alone where I could easily take my own life but then realized I was, in fact, still alone, and ran off in a panic towards the lake.

Of course, when he reached the lake, all he saw was my naked form floating and barely moving. He called out to me, but my ears were submerged and I did not hear him. So, ever my heroic Champion, Jarik leapt into the lake to rescue me, fearing already that I was drowned.

Now, I knew none of this was going on around me. All I knew was one moment I was dreaming away, floating happily, and quite relaxed. The next, an enormous splash knocked me from my reverie, and a wave covered my face. Being startled, I inhaled at the very wrong moment and took in a lungful of water.

Panicked, I grasped desperately for the surface, coughing and sputtering and unable to see. I did, however, feel someone grabbing at me and, not knowing who it was, naturally suspected that some vile rogue had seen me bathing and was attempting to assault me. In my efforts to fight off the hands on me, I sank below the surface and again inhaled water.

Then the hands were around my shoulders and pulling my head back above the surface. Again I coughed and sputtered and gagged in an attempt to breathe. Finally, I heard Jarik's voice bellowing at me over the noise of the splashing and my own hacking. Once I realized it was him, I stopped fighting his hands and let him hold me up in the water.

It took a few moments of continued choking before I was able to breathe properly again. As I coughed, Jarik held me and said, "Aenna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I called to you, and when you didn't respond, I thought you were trying to drown yourself. By the Temple, Aenna, I thought you were already drowned." He held me tightly against him, his warm hands rubbing my back gently to help ease my coughs.

Eventually I regained enough to breath to hoarsely say, "I had no intention of the sort. I told you as much."

"I know," he said, his voice full of concern. "I just..." He did not finish the thought but simply sighed.

I realized I was unclothed in his arms and expected to feel ashamed but realized I did not. This good man had seen me at my lowest point of existence. He knew my every fear and insecurity. I had, in truth, been naked to him for a long time. This was merely the first time my flesh had been as well.

I leaned back enough in his arms to look at his face, expecting to see him showing signs of shame at the fact that he was touching my bare skin below the water. To my surprise, there was no shame in his eyes. He gazed at me intensely, making my heart flutter for him. He pulled me back towards him and kissed me softly.

When his lips left mine, he looked at me again. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered.

"And I shouldn't want you to continue, Jarik, but I do." I was amazed to hear myself whisper the words to him, yet they were true. I was deeply in love with him, and knew myself to be a fool to continue denying it.

When he kissed me again, he did so with passion, pressing his mouth firmly to mine and moving his lips sensuously. Not only did my heart flutter, but my entire body lit up in a fiery arousal. He kissed me for some time, running his hands up and down my unclothed back and sides, almost brushing the sides of my breasts as he moved.

Then he moved in the water such that I was cradled in his arms. He stopped kissing me and awkwardly stumbled up the bank and out of the water, carrying my nude form in his arms. He walked a few steps from the shore and sank slowly to his knees, still holding me.

With great tenderness, he laid me down in the grass and then fell beside me and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and joyously held his head to mine, fearful that he would realize the seriousness of what was occurring and would stop.

Thankfully, he did not stop. His lips and tongue continued to move wonderfully against my own as the hand that wasn't busy holding himself up caressed my cheek. He ran his strong fingers gently through my wet hair and then down my jaw line to my neck. Tenderly, he moved his fingertips against the curves of my neck and shoulder, filling me with great desire.

When he paused kissing for a moment to look into my eyes, I lifted my head to put my lips back to his. Slowly, I brushed the full part of my lower lip against his upper one, moving it in sensual circles there.

"Oh, Aenna," he moaned softly, his breath hot on my chin. Desire overtook him then, and he moved his lips down my chin and onto my neck. I could not help but writhe lustily in the grass as he kissed and nibbled my throat, my shoulders, and my face.

Overwhelmed with love and desire, I whispered, "Make love with me, Jarik."

He stopped kissing abruptly and lifted his head to look at me. I had expected to see his eyes full of longing and desire, but instead they were sorrowful and somewhat panicked. "I can't," he blurted out.

I put my hand gently to his cheek and said, "I love you, Jarik. Please."

He shut his eyes tightly and said, "I love you, my dearest Aenna. I have always loved you, but I cannot do this to you." He began to move away from me, but I reached out with both arms and clung to his wet shirt.

"No, Jarik, please. You're not doing anything that I don't want you to do."

"Aenna, forgive me, but you are hurt and vulnerable. I cannot take advantage of you. It is bad enough that I have done this much."

"Jarik, don't say that," I pleaded. "Please, Jarik, I need you. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've felt the least bit desirable?" He opened his eyes questioningly, and I said, "Since before Raelik was born. Jarik, I have not been touched like this since before I was taken away."

An incredulous look swept over Jarik's face. "Is he mad?" he asked angrily. "By the Gods, Aenna, I don't understand how he could resist you, when I have spent every night since that day at the outpost dreaming of being with you." He kissed me softly, endearingly, and then whispered into my ear, "It is a tragedy that a woman as beautiful as yourself could ever imagine that you are undesirable."

"Then show me how you desire me, Jarik. I love you, and I need you to love me. Show me that of which you say you have dreamed. Make love with me, please."

He began kissing me again. I slipped the tip of my tongue between his lips to entice him. I wanted so badly to feel his weight upon me. I hungered to hear him moan in pleasure as he moved in me. I was enthralled to imagine him calling out my name in ecstasy.

Just as I thought my fantasy would come true, he stopped kissing me again and said, "I cannot do this. Aenna, my love, much as it means fighting every spark of desire in my body and soul, I cannot make love with you." He laid himself beside me and pulled me into his arms. Kissing my forehead, he said in obvious worry, "If you were to have a child from our union, Aenna, everything would fall apart. Your current troubles would seem as nothing compared to that which would arise from such a scandal. It would be treasonous for each of us, and we could rightly be hanged for it. I cannot put you at that risk, no matter how much I wish to love you. Furthermore, as much as Kurit has become a wretch of late, he is still my cousin and my King. I cannot betray him."

I shuddered in guilt at the mention of betraying my Kurit. I closed my eyes and felt that I was about to weep, both from Jarik's denial and the knowledge that I was, in fact, being unfaithful to my husband and my son's father, when suddenly Jarik pulled himself back from me.

"But yet I cannot leave you feeling unwanted, Aenna, not when I have longed for so long to be with you like this," he whispered and then kissed me again. As his mouth moved hungrily on mine, he pushed me to lie back again in the grass. He lifted his head and said in a voice rich with love and desire, "Though I cannot do as you ask and take pleasurable advantage of you, I can and will give you the attention you deserve."

He fell again to kissing my neck, this time more ravenously than before. I moaned lustily as he moved his kisses and nibbles further down, soon putting his face between my breasts. I closed my eyes in delight as he swept his tongue over my nipples and ran his strong hands down to my hips.

He continued kissing me further down, tracing a slow line of kisses over my waist, stopping just above my most private area. Then to my complete surprise, he moved himself between my legs and put his mouth to me there.

"By the Temple, Jarik, what are you doing?" I asked, starting to sit up. But his tongue parted me and moved on that sensitive spot, filling my entire body with such fiery pleasure that I collapsed back into the grass and moaned in delight.

Never had I conceived of such a thing. It seemed obscene, but try as I did to pull away from him, it was all I could do to writhe in exquisite pleasure as he continued to use his tongue and lips on me. I stopped fighting it, both in my mind and with my body, and allowed him to bring me to the height of ecstasy.

His skilled mouth, the very obscenity of it, and the fact I had gone so long without a man's love combined to quickly fill me with a delicious fire. I called out his name in rapture as my hands ripped great amounts of grass from the ground on either side of me.

When he finished, he rose and left me there, naked, eyes closed, fists full of lustily torn dirt and grass. A moment later, I felt a softness around me, and opened my eyes to see that he was wrapping my body in the large, soft towel Leiset had left beside my clothes.

Jarik laid himself beside me in the grass and pulled me into his arms. I nuzzled my face against his shoulder, his shirt still wet from his plunge into the lake.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

"I want to please you as well," I said.

"Aenna, the memory of you calling out my name in your delight will be more than sufficient gratification for me in lonely nights to come. Much as I long to make love with you now, I have told you, I cannot."

"I wish that I could split in two, and one of me could run off with you, Jarik, while the other half could go back and be a proper Queen in Endren."

He chuckled softly and squeezed me tight. "Aenna, I have wished a thousand times of late that I could take you in my arms and carry you off to another land where I might love you and protect you from all harm and sorrows. And I shall tell you this now: if Kurit cannot regain his self-control, I will do just that. I won't let him destroy you. I cannot bear to watch him hurt you again, my love." He kissed my forehead several times and said, "If that should happen, if I should have to take you away from him, then and only then will I take pleasure in your love. To do so now would violate everything that I am."

He loosened his hold on me to pull back and look at me in earnest. He caressed my cheek, making me smile. We lay together, smiling quietly in love, for some time.

Though the girlish, romantic part of me yearned to let that perfect moment continue indefinitely, my adult mind soon was forced to speak. "Leiset must know at least something of what we have been doing. She quite likely returned here, saw us, and left."

Jarik nodded, still caressing my cheek. "Hopefully she'll have the sense to forget whatever she saw."

"Leiset is motivated by a strong morality, Jarik, but she also knows and loves me. I have no doubt that she will be discreet for my own sake. I trust her."

"Nonetheless, I suppose we ought to return before anyone else conceives of a rumour."

I nodded. He stood and helped me to my feet. I held the towel around me as I walked to where my clothes sat. It was perfectly ridiculous to conceal myself from him, after all that had happened, but it seemed somehow appropriate. As I dressed myself, I saw that he had his back deliberately turned. He stood with his hands on his hips, idly facing the other direction. Again, it was absurd, but I knew he was showing me a clear indication of respect in spite of everything.

I loved him all the more for it.

When I was dressed, I went to him and quietly put my arm in his. He smiled at me warmly and then began slowly walking me up the path.

"I must confess, Aenna, I have loved you since long before the troubles with Kurit began."

I nodded. "I know, Jarik."

"Have I been so obvious?"

"I have seen your face at times when you clearly longed for me. I saw how you fought for me to be my Champion. I know you've been in love with me since then."

"Much earlier than that, Aenna."

I paused, and since my arm was in his, he stopped as well. I looked at him seriously and asked, "How long, then?"

"Since I picked you up in my arms at the outpost."

"But, Jarik," I said in disbelief, "you did not even know me!"

He nodded solemnly. "I shall tell you of that later, when we have time to speak in private." We continued walking. "I have another confession, Aenna. It's not one I'm proud of, but I feel now that I must be honest with you."

"Tell me, Jarik. I will not judge you." I looked up at him as we walked, but his face remained forward, as though he feared to look at my eyes.

"When I found you in Mikilrun, before I went to tell Kurit that you were there, I..." He sighed guiltily, so I moved my hand on his arm gently to reassure him. "I had almost given up my search for you. It had been several months, and too many times I had thought that I had caught a glimpse of you, but it would always be some other woman. I was finishing my circle full of sorrow and feelings of failure.

"Then I approached an inn and saw a woman sweeping the step. She had very long red hair, and of course my heart leapt. Then I told myself it could not be you, for it had not been you all of those other times. Still, the fact that this red-haired woman was so far south was enough to prompt me to look more closely.

"I still had my winter's cloak in my packs. I put it on and pulled the hood over my face and went inside to watch her. I sat at the opposite end of the pub where another barmaid served me ale that I barely sipped and did so only enough to avoid suspicion. The red-haired barmaid came out of the kitchen, and I knew it was you. I was filled with such joy that it was difficult not to leap up from my table.

"I watched you for nearly an hour, Aenna. I just stared at you, loving you. I found myself wondering if you had met another man and fallen in love in the time that you had been gone. But you did not look like a happy woman in love. You worked diligently, with the effort and concentration of one who wishes to keep other thoughts away. You looked sad, at times. You looked alone, though you were surrounded by people.

"Aenna, my confession is that I didn't want to tell Kurit you were there. As you worked, I watched you and envisioned myself rising from my table, pulling back my hood, approaching you and taking you into my arms. I wanted to tell you then and there that I loved you. I wanted to beg you to marry me, and I would have carried you off myself. I would have taken you far away and made a life for us. I don't know how... perhaps I would have hired myself out as a guard to some small lord who would not recognize me. I didn't have a sound plan in mind. I just wanted to be with you."

"Then why didn't you?" I asked, though I suspected the answer.

"I could not betray Kurit. I knew him to be back in Endren pining for you. I could not destroy him for my own gain."

I nodded, for that was the answer I had anticipated. I longed to speak more of these things with him, for I wished to pour out my heart and hear him do likewise unto me. His words of love made my heart soar, couched though they were in guilt and betrayal. But we saw Leiset sitting on a rock just ahead of us on the path and had to cut our conversation short.

As we approached her, she rose and kept her head low. "I did not wish to go back alone and arouse suspicion," she said quietly, blushing. She quite clearly had seen us together, and though I knew she would not be fearful of me, she seemed to shrink away from Jarik's gaze.

"We appreciate your discretion, Leiset. Thank you," I said.

Jarik realized the poor woman was uncomfortable under his eye and tried to be kind. "Leiset, I most humbly apologize for shouting at you before. I should not have said the things that I did and surely not so angrily. I am sorry."

She nodded at him politely. "Thank you, Lord Jarik, but you were right to scold. I should not have left Her Majesty alone." There was an odd tone to her last few words, and I spied a slight narrowing of her eyes at him. I knew her well enough to know that she was angry with him for what we had done. She turned and led the way up the remainder of the path.

### Chapter 22

THINGS WERE ODD that evening between Jarik and myself. I could, as always, feel his eyes upon me, but whenever I returned his glance, he forced a small smile and turned his eyes away. I thought perhaps he feared he would look at me too lovingly and those around us would catch the look, or perhaps he felt ashamed of what we had done and was afraid to tell me and upset me. It certainly would have upset me to learn he was ashamed. I would have felt very much a harlot if he were to be regretful about our intimacy of that afternoon.

He escorted me to my room in the evening, kissed my hand decorously, and said goodnight. There I stood in my doorway, watching him walk slowly down the hall to his own chamber door. As he opened it, I expected to see him turn to glance at me, but he did not. I felt awful as I closed my door.

Leiset came to me shortly thereafter. I could not look at her face, for I worried that she would lecture me on just how inappropriate it was of me to allow Jarik to kiss me and touch me as he had done. I did not know how much of our intimacy she had witnessed, but I was sure any part thereof would be certain fodder for a moralistic lecture.

She did not speak as she took my clothes and handed me a nightdress. She did not speak as she helped me unwrap my hair and put it into a braid for the night. She made no mention of the fact that I had never received the bath salts she had gone to fetch, and she did not offer to draw a bath for me there in the room. She did not speak a word the entire time, not even as she approached the door to leave.

"Leiset!" I finally said in anguish. "I had thought your lecture would be terrible, but this silence is a thousand times worse. Please, just tell me what a vile, unfaithful trollop I've been and be done with it!"

Leiset turned slowly to me. Her face was not angry as I expected but instead very sorrowful. "Aenna, you're not a vile trollop. Unfaithful, yes, but to a husband who does not, of late, deserve your faith. You know I believe in the sanctity of marriage in the eyes of the Gods. His Majesty broke that sanctity when he struck you, if not every other time he cut you with his hateful words. I know I speak treason to say it, but I have loathed him since he began tearing you apart. I despise him for what he has done to you, and I do not trust him to make things right, despite any assurances I have spoken to you in an effort to cheer you."

"Then why are you angry with Jarik? I can see it in your eyes, Leiset."

"I am angry with him for not taking you away sooner."

I was stunned. The good and proper Leiset seemed to be telling me that she wished my Champion had shed his honour to his position and King and had stolen me away. "He couldn't do that, Leiset. You know he had a duty to his cousin and King. Surely you can't mean to tell me you wish he had cast aside honour in favour of his affections for me?"

"He had a duty to protect you. Regardless of his affections, he should have taken you away from Endren before Kurit could have struck you. And where was he when this occurred? What if your husband had been so drunk that instead of merely hitting you he instead put his hands around your throat? Where was your Champion when you lay on the floor of the King's workroom, stunned senseless?"

"That's unfair, Leiset. Jarik can't watch over me at every minute. He's human."

"He should have known something like this was coming. He should have foreseen it and taken you away."

"I would not have let him," I said firmly. "I had no intention of leaving Kurit to run this kingdom in his drunken state."

"Which is precisely why Jarik should have intervened. He could have taken you back to Staelorn."

"Leiset, really, he could not have known that Kurit would strike me."

"Why not? I knew it would happen!" The very moment she spoke the words, she put her hands to her paled face. She slumped against the door's frame as she closed her eyes and began to weep.

I stood still, stunned by the entire conversation, and not knowing what to do.

Soon she lifted her reddened eyes to me and said, "I knew the day would come when he would strike you. I could see it in his anger. He would never strike his mother, though it was truly she that angered him. I knew he would hurt you. I feared he might even kill you." She hung her head shamefully and whispered, "I should not condemn Jarik. You are right of that. I condemn myself. I should have acted myself. I should have said something, perhaps to you, perhaps to Jarik, but I was afraid. I was afraid to commit the treasonous act and possibly be sent away. I was afraid you would be angry with me for the suggestion, and I could not bear that. I was weak, and I am sorry."

"I would not have believed you, but I would not have been angry with you either," I said. "I admit I may have thought you to be overreacting, but I wouldn't have condemned you for it, and I certainly wouldn't have let you be sent away."

She nodded, still looking towards the floor. "I should have known that as well. I was foolish. I was a foolish coward, and it could have cost you your life. I have to live with that." She began to go to her room and close the door.

I stepped forward and held the door open, reaching to touch her shoulder with my other hand. "Leiset, don't blame yourself on this," I said.

She turned her eyes to me briefly and said, "I do, and I always shall." I moved to embrace her, but she stepped away from me. "No, Aenna. Your intention of comfort is kind and appreciated, but I cannot accept it. Please, I know I haven't the right to ask anything of you, but please leave me to my penance."

I let her close the door without another word. I felt quite selfish, for there I had been with my constant tears and suffering, when my friend was suffering as well. I had not comforted her. I had not even known she needed it.

I sighed and went about putting out the lamps. Then I went to the bed and fell backwards upon it, not bothering to get under the sheets, as it was a warm and somewhat humid night. I remained where I had fallen for almost half an hour, just staring at the canopy in the darkness. I thought of how I had been before meeting Kurit. I had been strong and independent. I needed no one back then and was proud of that.

Then I thought of how things had changed. I had had my moments of strength and independence—I had rebuilt part of Endren, and I had fled from my captors in Wusul on my own. I imagined that if someone had told me my own story but with the names changed, I would have considered the woman who had done such things to be impressively strong. I thought about Raelik's birth and realized that I would have found the lady of the story to be quite valiant.

Yet, despite knowing that this was my own life, I could not apply the same considerations to myself. I knew all too well that I had been mad with fear when giving birth to my son and on the entire journey home. I knew my own mind well enough to recognize that it was not strength that had motivated me in building the new part of Endren but rather a sad and desperate need to be away from my personal troubles.

I sighed again, feeling pathetic. It seemed everything that I should be respectable for was, in fact, an example of my weakness. I was not the Good Queen Aenna as they called me. I was the foolish girl I had always been, only weaker and needier since having left the Traveller's Torch.

I turned over onto my side and stared at the moonlight on the floor where it shone through the windowed balcony doors. I wondered if Jarik was sleeping or if he was awake and tortured by self-doubt as I was.

I pulled a pillow from the other side of the bed and wrapped my arms around it as though it were Jarik. Though of course it felt nothing like him, the thought of lying in his arms was a sweet comfort. I imagined his arms encircling me, protecting me. I imagined that I could feel him softly kissing my forehead and perhaps hear him whisper that everything would be fine.

Then I found myself worrying that our intimacy earlier in the day might result in him pulling away from me. I began to fear that he would feel sufficient guilt to make him not wish to hold me at all any more, and I almost wept at the thought. I knew that I needed him a great deal, though I hated myself for it.

I flung the pillow away from me, irritated that I'd worked myself into the beginning of tears. I sat up in the bed and brushed my hands on my cheeks roughly. I considered telling Jarik that I was fine and no longer needed him but sighed again when I realized he would not believe me. He knew that I needed him. And I needed him too much to cut him out of my heart.

My head felt cluttered, and the room felt stifling. I rose from the bed and opened the balcony doors. The night air swept over me, and though it was warm and humid, it was refreshing compared to the stale indoor air.

I stepped out onto the balcony, eyes closed, inhaling deeply of the sweet summer air. It brought to me the scents of trees and grass and life, and I let it soothe me. I could hear the wind in the trees around the cottage, and the sound relaxed me further.

When I opened my eyes and leaned forward on the railing, I caught a movement to my side in the darkness. I turned quickly and saw a figure on Jarik's balcony. I was momentarily startled until I saw in the moonlight that it was, in fact, Jarik himself. He was watching me and had leaned forward in his chair when I had moved to my balcony's edge.

"I'm not going to pitch myself off," I said quietly.

I could barely see him nod as he said, "I know. Just be careful that you don't fall."

I wondered what he was thinking: was he looking at me in my thin nightdress and wishing he could touch me, or was he wishing that I had not come outside and disturbed his reverie? "I'll be fine, Jarik," I said in reassurance. "I always am, eventually."

Jarik said nothing, and I felt odd under his continued gaze. A shiver passed over me despite the warm wind. I turned and went back into my chambers, closing the doors behind me.

I sat back on the bed and stared into the air before me. Did he believe me? I wondered. Does he believe that I shall be fine? I don't feel fine. Did he see that?

Another chill passed over me, though I was not actually cold. I turned and looked at the pillow that I had tossed aside before and found myself wishing that Jarik were with me and holding me. I wished that I could be strong and independent, but I had to admit to myself that I was neither in that moment, and truly, I longed for Jarik's comfort.

I decided that I could not handle just sitting there and staring at that lifeless pillow a moment longer. I rose, walked quickly from my room, and went to Jarik's door. But there I paused, my hand about to knock, when I was overcome again with irritation and shame at my own weakness.

I placed my hands and forehead on his door and leaned upon it. It was solid against my skin, and I imagined it was Jarik's armoured chest. The thought of being close to him took hold of my mind, and I found myself opening the door without bothering to knock at all.

When I entered the room, I saw him standing in the doorway to the balcony. A small lamp by his bed was lit, and its light was sufficient that I could see his sad face as he beheld me.

"I did not come to seduce you," I blurted, though I know not why.

He replied simply, "I know."

I sighed and put my arms across my chest, each hand on the opposite upper arm, as if I were cold, though I was not. I looked at the floor in shame, not knowing what to say.

My obviously troubled demeanour gave him concern, and he approached me. Gently, he put his hands over my own and then moved one under my chin to tip my face up to look at him. He looked as though he were about to speak, but did not. Instead, he just gently caressed my cheek and hair and then pulled me into an embrace.

"I need you," I whispered. "I need this, to be in your arms. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Aenna. I love you. I am always here for you. You know that. I would rather know of your troubles and be some small comfort to you than to suspect you might be troubled but fear to tell me."

"I don't like feeling this way. I don't like needing you so much, Jarik. I used to be strong; as solid as the statue of me that stands in the marketplace."

"You're not made of stone, Aenna. Lean on me. I shall not let you fall."

His sweet words touched my heart. I could say nothing in return.

He kissed the top of my head and said, "Let me take you back to your bed. I shall stay with you, if you wish."

I nodded against his chest, fighting the urge to weep again. How I loathed my tears and myself for shedding them.

Keeping one arm around my shoulders, Jarik led me back to my bedchamber. He pulled back the bed sheets, and I lay down. He laid himself beside me, slipping a strong arm under my neck and the other around me as I curled my arms against his chest. I moved my head forward against his shoulder and felt my forehead brush his bearded chin. I closed my eyes and let myself drift to sleep in his most beautiful embrace.

When I awoke in the morning, I did so alone. Jarik was nowhere to be seen. I did not find him until after I had eaten a quick and small breakfast. I only ate at all because Leiset kept nagging me about how terribly thin I had become.

Jarik was outside with Raelik, showing him how to hold a small wooden sword. My Champion looked up at me briefly when I arrived but did not take his attention away from my son long enough to directly acknowledge me. He showed the boy how to properly stand, though Raelik was still such a small child that he had trouble keeping his balance. I feared he would become frustrated and upset, but Jarik was so patient and encouraging that my boy showed no sign of such unpleasant emotions.

Only when Raelik was playing confidently and safely with his new toy did Jarik approach me.

"Much as I adore seeing you spending such thoughtful time with him, I very much dislike seeing him with a weapon in his hand," I said so only Jarik could hear.

"We have already spoken of this, Aenna. The boy needs to learn these things someday, and right now he needs to feel like a man. And he's perfectly safe—I had Mikel make that dummy for him without any sharp points or edges, and I personally ensured that it was sanded smoothly so he won't get splinters."

"Thank you. I appreciate your concern," I said a little sadly. Raelik was not swinging the wooden sword about at all, but rather practicing standing ready with it as Jarik had shown him. His small face was very serious with concentration.

"He is my kin, after all," said Jarik. "Though I'd care likewise for any child of yours, even if you had not married Kurit."

"What do you think Kurit is doing right now?" I wondered aloud.

"I'd rather not speculate. If I guess something unpleasant and am wrong, I will be guilty of doubting my cousin and King. If I guess something honourable and am wrong, I do him a service of trust he does not deserve."

I nodded. "I wish I knew. Do you think that perhaps he needs me there?"

Jarik sighed and face became dark. "Not half as much as I feel the need to keep you away from him."

"Then you do doubt him."

"No. And yes. I want to believe that he will return to the man that we knew and respected in years past. I'm simply not willing to risk your safety on that."

"We must return eventually."

"Yes. And I shall be within close range of you at all times. Unless I sense improvement, I shall be quite loathe to let him be alone with you."

There was a short silence as I debated asking him my next question. "Why did you leave me to wake alone?"

He looked at me sadly and then looked about to see if anyone was nearby and watching. When he had satisfied himself that we were alone but for the small boy who paid us no heed, he put his arms gently around me and cupped my head against his chest. "It tore my heart to leave you there, Aenna, but I could not risk Lyenta, Pirine, or even Leiset finding me in your bed. I will not allow your name to be sullied by rumour."

Jarik ended the embrace and again looked about us suspiciously. He had held me many times before without concern for who saw it, and it was odd that now he would worry about rumours. I thought that perhaps he was concerned more so now that we had been intimate and thus could not honestly deny an accusation of impropriety.

"Does that mean you will not hold me again tonight?"

"Aenna, my main concern is for your well-being. If that requires me to hold you through part of the night, then I shall do so. But I also must be vigilant and ensure that your good name is not slandered by idle tongues."

"Do you hold me only because I need it, then?"

With another quick glance about, he put a gentle hand to my cheek. "Of course not, Aenna. You know that I love you. I was enraptured last night as I held you and watched you sleep.

"Did you not sleep then?"

"Not until I left your room, no."

"Why ever not? I was in no danger last night."

He smiled and blushed slightly and then said in a low voice, "If I tell you why, you shall laugh at me."

"Oh, Jarik, I'd never do any such thing."

"It's ridiculously silly. Boyish, even." He blushed further, and I loved it. What an adorable thing, to see the mightiest warrior reduced to a silly blush! He averted his eyes from mine and pretended to concentrate on Raelik.

I glanced at my son and could tell from the child's expression that he was beginning to tire of his current play and would undoubtedly soon come seeking other entertainment. I knew then that I only had a few moments to drag this information out of Jarik before he would gladly accept Raelik's inevitable distraction.

"Tell me, please. I promise I shall neither laugh nor mock you."

He did not look at me as he quietly said, "Your bruise is almost gone. We shall have to return to Endren soon, and my time of being close to you shall end. Well, it shall hopefully end, for that is the result if Kurit's sensibilities have returned to him. I love my cousin and I love you, and I do very much wish to see you both happy again, even if it does mean that I have no cause to take you away and make you my wife."

"You're changing the subject."

Jarik glanced at me briefly and chuckled. "Curse you for being so intelligent," he teased.

"And curse you for being so obfuscating. Now tell me why you remained awake half the night," I insisted, though I smiled as I spoke.

He sighed and looked away again. "Because, Gods be kind, I shall never again have the opportunity to hold you as you sleep. I could not bear to waste a single moment of that time on my own slumber. You were so beautiful and at peace—I wanted to paint a portrait of you like that in my mind, and so I just looked at you all night. Then when the first light of dawn began to peek through the window, I slipped my arms out from under you so as not to wake you. I remained in the room, standing by your bed for a few moments to ensure that you were still sleeping, and then I quietly left."

I thought I might weep silly, girlish tears of romantic joy at his words, but I managed to hold them back. Just as I was about to take his face between my hands and kiss him—not caring a whit who saw—Raelik came bounding to us joyfully.

"Raelik!" said Jarik loudly but in concern more than anger. "I do recall having told you that you are not to run about with that sword."

Raelik slowed his pace immediately. He walked the remainder of the distance quite slowly and carefully, looking to Jarik for approval.

"Much better, Your Highness," said Jarik respectfully, earning an enormous grin from the boy as he stopped just in front of us. "You shall have to always be very careful with that sword, or your mother will make me take it from you. And it is a great shame for a warrior to be stripped of his weapon."

Raelik looked sheepishly at me. I nodded at him seriously, though he was so adorable that I had to prevent myself from scooping him up in delight. Then my son bowed to me—he actually put his arm before his waist and bowed to me in perfect respect and honour! It was the most adorable sight I had ever seen, and I lost all resolve as a result. I did bend and pick him up in my arms as he let the sword fall to the ground. He seemed so heavy in my recently weakened arms, but I held him tightly to me nonetheless.

"Oh, my sweet boy, Mumma loves you so very much!" I said as I kissed the top of his head. He looked up at me, planted a joyous kiss on my cheek, and then favoured me with another big grin.

I heard Jarik laughing merrily behind us. I glanced at him long enough to see him bend and retrieve the wooden sword, and then we walked happily back to the cottage for our midday meal.

* * *

I did not have to fetch Jarik that night. He came to my room shortly after I had put out the lamps. He asked me quietly first if I wanted his company again, and of course I said yes. I lifted the sheets for him as he slipped into bed beside me and once again wrapped his loving arms around me.

I had been thinking about what had occurred by the lake before he arrived and was quite aroused. Though I had no intention of asking him again to make love with me, I could not help but gently kiss his neck, as it was right there before my face. When I brushed my lips softly along his throat and put them around the masculine ridge therein, he moaned and I felt the vibrations of it in my mouth.

I continued kissing his neck though he twice whispered that I should not. Finally, he pulled back from me and said, "Do not tempt me, Aenna."

I sighed and felt immediately guilty. "You're right. I'm sorry. It is unfair to do this to you when I have every intention of returning to my husband."

"Do not mistake me—I appreciate your affection. Very much so. I just don't think that I can continue to resist you."

"I do not intend to ask you to make love with me again, Jarik. I merely longed for your lips."

He caressed my cheek and whispered, "Ah. Well, that much I can certainly handle." Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine. I parted my lips to accept his adept tongue and thereafter became lost in time as we kissed each other in hungry love.

When we reached a point where the kissing had become so fervent that he clutched me to him and our moans began to rise above whispers, he tore his lips away from mine and buried his face in the pillow beneath my head. After a moment, he raised himself up to look at me and breathlessly said, "I cannot go on. My hands yearn to wander where they should not, and my mind is filled with lust."

"You won't leave, will you?"

He shook his head. "No. I could not bear to go, but neither can my body bear to continue on in this. Allow me please to just hold you, perhaps to speak for some time until our fires burn out."

I nodded and smiled, sufficiently happy to snuggle more innocently into his embrace. He gave me one more kiss, a sweet little one on my forehead, and said, "I love you. I shall always love you, for I always have."

"You promised you would tell me how it could be that you loved me before you even truly knew me."

"That I did. Very well, I shall tell you. But first you need to know that I was not always the man you know me to be. Before we met, Aenna, I was a bit of a scoundrel."

"A scoundrel? You? I cannot believe that!" I said incredulously, almost forgetting to keep my voice low, lest we be heard and the entire house know that we were together behind closed doors at such a late hour.

"Perhaps scoundrel is too strong a word, for I never showed a lady any disrespect." He shifted, cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment, and then said, "I just went to bed with several of them."

"Several?"

"Several."

"How many is several?" I asked and then realized it was quite indecorous of me to ask.

Jarik gave me an odd look—somewhere between a smile and reproach—and said simply, "Several."

"Ah. Sorry."

He kissed my forehead sweetly and continued. "The priests may tell us that the Gods have no gender, but I cannot believe that. Some of them must be men, for only men could conceive of such exquisite creatures as women and not create an equivalent thing of beauty for those women to enjoy."

"Oh, I think you're being unfair," I said. "I find men to be quite enticing. It is, in fact, my misfortune to find two of your kind to be quite alluring."

"Ah, but my sweet Lady, you are a woman of great sensuality. I do think that most of your gender finds mine repugnant at best, and duly so. Regardless, the fact remains that I find women to be marvellous creatures. All of them, even the ones other men would find ugly. I have not yet beheld a woman who was completely devoid of attractive features—even vile and hateful women such as Sashken. Though of course I have always loathed her and still now curse her spirit's name for her crimes, even she had physically attractive qualities."

"Such as?"

"Her mouth," he said, a little too quickly for my liking. "She had a thin and ugly face, but upon it sat the sweetest little mouth. Perfectly full lips that always seemed lusciously dark against her pale skin." Jarik noticed me rolling my eyes and whispered, "Do not be jealous, my love. I never wished to kiss that mouth, for she was an awful person. Furthermore, I cannot abide stupidity, and she certainly was no great thinker. I am merely trying to explain to you that I had always lived a life in worship of the female form and all the treasures therein.

"I had no desire to marry, though. I found love songs sung by bards to be silly, for what a waste it seemed to swear to be only with one woman, when there were so many others out there bearing gifts of exotic pleasure. And so, I was quite careful to never seduce a woman myself, lest she try to snare me into a marriage thereafter. I simply made myself available in the presence of women and allowed those who were desirous of my attentions to seduce me. Only once did I make the mistake of bedding a virgin, though fortunately she had no desire to wed a 'brutish' fellow as myself, or so she said. And never did I have relations with a married or betrothed woman. Until now, I suppose." He looked at me guiltily.

I smiled at him and touched his face. "Jarik, this has hardly been a purely sexual relationship."

"I know," he said quietly, pulling me towards him tightly for a moment. "And not all of them were either. Not that I compare you to them in any way; that you must understand. I did not love them. But there were some that I considered to be good friends.

"There was one woman in particular who teased me by calling me her 'plaything', though I knew she respected me. She was widowed very young and had spent many years sampling other men as a result. She was much older than myself and taught me how to pleasure her in a variety of exotic fashions."

I found myself wondering if that was where he had learned to do what he had done for me by the lake, but I did not want to interrupt his story with yet another indecorous question.

"I cared not for any woman's station or family name. I cared only for the woman herself, be she a lady of the court, a daughter of a lord, or a servant girl. So long as she was pleasant, at least reasonably intelligent, clean, and, of course, willing to seduce me to her bed, I was interested. And that's who I was; that was how I lived, and I rather liked it.

"Then one evening I found myself at an old outpost because my dearest friend and cousin Kurit had fled there in anger over yet another fight with his meddlesome mother. And in burst this girl, and, my dear, your face may have been pretty, but you were a mess!" He laughed as he spoke, as did I. "Your clothes were torn, your hair entangled and even holding a bit of a dead leaf whipped there by the strong winds, your entire self dusty from travel and sweating from effort."

He stopped laughing and in a serious voice tinged with the sweetness of fond memory said, "But in your eyes was a fire unlike I had ever before seen in a woman and only very rarely in men who have been deeply wronged and were seeking justice. You asked who the Prince was, and, to protect Kurit in worry that you may have sought to strike at him, I stood and claimed his name. Of course, you fell to your knees and told us of what you had heard.

"When you told us how you had run to us without rest, I was awed by such endurance and bravery, all for a man you could not even identify. Then, your story told, the fire left your eyes as your mission was accomplished and fatigue hit with full force. I saw then in your eyes not a plea for reward or even help as I expected, but instead a concern for me, eyes like that of a worried friend, even though you did not know me. My heart was stolen by that look of concern. I was touched in a way that I had never before felt or imagined possible.

"Then you actually begged our forgiveness for a rude intrusion, and I was in disbelief that a bedraggled peasant woman could be so brave, so strong, and so noble as to display such courtesy at such a time." He looked deeply into my eyes as he spoke and touched my cheek fondly. "I know much of this is known to you, but I must explain my thoughts and feelings.

"Your energy drained and your body weakened, you turned to the wall beside you for support and tried to leave instead of looking to us for assistance as was your right as a woman and as an obviously loyal subject. My poor Aenna, so weak and yet so noble. You could not find the door. When I saw that, an aching began in my chest that was utterly foreign to me. I was compelled to care for you.

"I went to you and started to lift you, and with your last ounce of strength you told me to not waste my time on a peasant girl but to leave for the safety of a friendly town before it was too late, and then you fainted away in my arms. In that moment, my Aenna, being close to you, touching you, hearing your brave words, I suddenly understood the literature and songs that speak of an instant flame of love that burns in the heart. I was enraptured by everything that you were, which I shouldn't have been. What I should have been doing was doubting you and wondering what trap you might be laying, trying to get the Prince out in the woods, perhaps having bandits in ambush.

"I should have been pondering such possibilities, but I didn't until much later, when it would have been too late anyway. For I loved you already, and I lost all objectivity and sense because I was unprepared to ever feel that way, especially since, as you have pointed out, I did not know you. In any objective sense, it was madness to have feelings for you at all. But the words in my mind were 'I love this woman', and that, to be honest, frightened me.

"Of course as you know, we decided to leave, knowing that we would be outnumbered and the threat that you had described could come at any moment. We considered that perhaps you did not wish to be taken with us, but we surely could not leave you unconscious there to be slain. So Kurit and I decided to take you with us and knew that, when everything was sorted out later, we could ensure that you were taken anywhere that you wanted to go. But of course, in my mind, I had no intention of letting you slip through my fingers so easily," Jarik said, smiling at me for a brief moment.

"That is when I realized that I should have been more wary of you. Although I couldn't bring myself to disbelieve you, it was my duty to be certain, so I mounted my horse and searched the area around the outpost to see if I could lure out any ambush. Of course there was none, so I returned, found that Kurit had placed you in the cart with Gilaela, and we left.

"As you know, we eventually saw the outpost burning and decided to split company before the assassins could catch up to us. I offered to be a decoy, and took Kurit's crested cloak so that anyone who saw me pass would think it had been the Prince. I had not anticipated that you would so adamantly refuse to slow me down, especially since Gilaela was with me anyway. I admit, I was suspicious of you at that moment, but the sound plan was still for you to think that I was the Prince and let me ride into whatever ambush you may have had planned.

"When all was said and done and I returned to the palace days later, I did so with the hope that you had not yet left. Had you been gone, I would surely have set off to find you and request the pleasure of knowing you. I learned you were in the palace when I found Kurit and embraced him, glad of course to see that he had returned in health. He told me how one of the assassins had eluded our justice and learned that they had chased the wrong man, which led the fiend to lie in wait for his return to Endren. Then he told me how you had once again saved his life, that time taking a bolt meant for him.

"I was shaken badly by that, but then he said that you were alive and recovering, and that Tash had said you seemed healthy and would certainly live. I went to the chamber where you slept, sat beside your bed, and held your hand." Jarik's eyes grew wistful, and I thought perhaps he might weep, but he did not. "Your hand, Aenna, I felt that it was rough with peasant's work. I told myself that the moment you woke, I would ask that you would allow me to court you, and if you agreed I would ensure that you never laboured as a peasant again."

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly. I smiled at him as he continued.

"I wondered if somewhere you had a family, because for all that we knew, you might have had a husband somewhere waiting for your return. A small part of me did fear that you would turn out to be unpleasant or not very bright or some other such thing, but I could not believe that anyone who would risk their life as you had could be anything less than kind and noble. I was desperate to know more about you and thereafter to pursue you romantically, perhaps even to wed you. I could not believe that I was thinking such things, but I was. I knew that I was not the same man I had been before and was surprised to realize that I did not regret the change.

"I sat there for some time. Eventually, Kurit entered and asked quietly if you were not a remarkable woman. Of course, I agreed, and on the edge of my breath was an admission that I was enchanted by you and intended to court you. Then Kurit told me that he had pledged his love to you and that he intended to ask you to be his bride."

Jarik's face fell. "Kurit continued to speak, I think perhaps telling me the tale of how you both had unexpectedly fallen in love on your journey, but I heard none of it. There was a rushing sound in my ears, and it took all that I had not to lose my temper to frustration and pain. Had he been any other man, I would have challenged him on the spot to fight for your love, even though I had no reason to think that you would even desire me. I know, it's perfectly ridiculous, yet still the truth.

"But this man who said he had won your heart was my cousin, my dearest friend, and my Prince to whom I was loyal in all things. So I said nothing as he told the tale. I simply sat there as that new self I had become was crushed into nothingness. What was left was not the man I had been before but yet another man, determined to do my duty by my Prince and now future Princess. I knew that the only way I could endure the heartache and resentment would be to love you as the wife of my cousin and perhaps, in time, as a friend. It occurred to me that, as a Princess, you would require a Champion, and I knew then and there that that role would be mine to claim.

"I had thought that my yearning for you would fade, since it was in fact an infatuation based on scant knowledge and your pretty face. I assumed that once you settled into a life with Kurit, my head would sort itself out and I would once again become the man I had been before knowing you. But that did not happen. I became increasingly obsessed with you as time went on. Your goodness, your sharp mind, and all of your other qualities validated my love. My desire for you has yet to relent."

Jarik pulled me close to him and stroked my hair gently. "When I searched for you after you'd been stolen away from us, I felt a most terrible emptiness. I longed for a woman that I knew I could never have. I felt a heart-wrenching guilt, for I knew that I had failed you as a Champion. Oh, I know you shall tell me I did not fail you, but I did. I was not watching you when I should have been, and that was deliberate. I had begun to think improper thoughts of you on a nightly basis, and I was ashamed. By the very Temple, you were carrying my cousin's child, and all I could think of was taking you to my bed! I avoided you when the guilt overcame me, as it had that night. That's why I went to listen in on the Council—not because I gave a whit as to what those arrogant lords had to say, but because I was too guilt-ridden from my lust to be near you when Kurit was downstairs.

"And so as I searched for you, I had to cope with the knowledge that it was my vile lust that had allowed this to happen to you, albeit indirectly. I thought many times of taking my own life, for I felt dishonoured and thought that only the punishment of death could restore some semblance of my honour. As I rode, I could not help but imagine what vile predicaments and unspeakable tortures you were enduring. It was only the thought of you in pain that held back my suicidal hand. The notion that somewhere you might be praying for your Champion to rescue you kept me going. I could not let you down out of my own selfish need to die."

He kissed my head several times and sighed unhappily. "When you tried to take your own life, Aenna, I was horrified to know you had felt like that. I have known that pain, and it breaks my heart to know that you have suffered it. It tears at me to know that you felt that alone. That is why I am here with you now, though it costs me my honour as a cousin, friend, and subject to your husband to do so. It is more important to me that you know you are loved, that you are needed, and that you must never feel so empty and alone again. And I shall hold you every night until we return to Endren, if that is what you desire."

His mention of the fact that we were betraying Kurit filled me with guilt, but I again managed to push the feeling aside. I needed what he was giving me too much to taint it with guilty tears. I needed those arms wrapped around me. I needed his love, and I needed very much to give him love in return. Right or wrong, I knew that I'd slip back into my mad depression without him.

Yet I could not stop myself from asking, "And what shall we do when we return to Endren?"

Jarik relaxed his embrace so that he could once again look at my eyes. "I don't know, Aenna. That depends on Kurit. I wish I could look into the future for you, that I could use that knowledge to protect you from all harm to body and soul, but I cannot. All I can do is promise that I won't let him hurt you any more, and that I will not come between you if he is capable once again of loving you as he should."

I lifted my head from his arm to kiss his mouth tenderly. It was a short kiss, just to tell him that I loved and appreciated him. Then I snuggled back into his embrace and drifted into a troubled sleep.

### Chapter 23

FOR THE SHORT time remaining of our stay at the cottage, Jarik held me every night until I slept. Eventually he would quietly return to his own room, always afraid of being found with me in the morning. To be honest, though, I think everyone in that household except Raelik knew that something was afoot between Jarik and myself. Thankfully, they seemed to keep their tongues still about it.

When my bruise had healed and there was no longer any clear reason to remain at the cottage, I sent word to Endren that we would return home. I specifically requested that both royal coaches be sent under the guise of having too many people and too much luggage for one coach. Though that was not entirely false, the real motive behind my request was to spend a few more hours alone with Jarik.

I spent most of the ride home with my head resting on his strong shoulder, his arm around me. We did not speak often, but the silence was not uncomfortable. As always, I felt safe in his presence and was comforted by his touch.

Yet as we entered the last half hour of our journey, I grew restless and fidgety. I sat very straight upon the bench, which made my back ache, what with the bumping and jostling of the coach. Jarik moved his hand gently upon my back in an effort to relax me but to no avail.

"Aenna, we have to believe Kurit will have changed," he finally said, breaking the silence.

"And if he hasn't?"

"Then as I told you before, I shall take you away from Endren. Either way, you shall be safe, I swear it."

I sighed but did not relax. "And what of our intimacy? We have betrayed him. I have transgressed in the eyes of the Gods."

"I want to regret what happened, Aenna, but I confess, I cannot," he said.

"Should we tell him?"

Jarik sighed. "I have been pondering that myself. On one hand, my honour dictates that I confess to him all that I have felt and said and done, and to allow him to do what he feels is just in return. On the other hand, to grovel in honesty before him and save what little remains of my own honour is to condemn you as well, and that goes against everything in my mind and heart. I cannot put you in danger of his condemnation, his wrath, and least of all, his legal right of punishment."

"So then we shall not tell him?" To be honest, I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I was hoping Jarik would decide for me. In most things in my life, having decisions made for me was at best tiresome, at worst infuriating. But there was an awful consequence to either side of this decision, and I felt truly unable to make it for myself. Perhaps I thought that Jarik making the decision for me would alleviate some of my guilt.

"I think," he said slowly, "it would be best not to tell him for the time being. Let us see first how he has changed, or not. If he is well again and the kind man we both knew and loved, then perhaps we shall go to him together in time and confess our guilt. The Kurit we knew before would be hurt by such an admission, but I think he would respect our reasons and our honesty, and it would be something we could, in time, heal amongst ourselves.

"But if he remains the wretch who struck you, or is quick to become that wretch again, then we shall simply leave and not confess a word. After all, what would be the point of confession then? Our affections would be obvious in our flight and likely justifiable in the eyes of those left behind."

It seemed a decision to not make a decision, but I was perfectly pleased with that. I still sat bolt upright in nervous tension as we approached the city, for the issue of Jarik and I aside, there was still the trepidation of which Kurit awaited my return.

In an effort to keep my mind from such worries, I blurted, "You know, Jarik, you really ought to find another woman to love. It's quite unfair of me to continue to cling to you when I can never be yours, assuming, of course, that Kurit is well again."

Jarik slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him. I was unable to completely relax, but I did allow myself to lie back against him. He wrapped his other arm around me snugly and said, "Would you then condemn an innocent woman to marry a man who loves and serves another with his entire heart and soul? That would be most unfair to such a woman."

"I do not wish for you to be alone. That thought breaks my heart."

He chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head. "Aenna, I am not alone. You are still in my life. So long as I am allowed to remain your friend and Champion, I shall be near you almost every day of your life. I shall be able to see you, to speak with you, to hear you laugh, and, if need be, to hold you when you weep. And the memories of our kisses and longings will warm my heart in my lonely bed. Don't fret for me. I can quite easily lead a happy life so long as I can be near you and see that you are well in body and soul. I will not lie: I shall long for you at times, and I shall dream of things that cannot be. I am but a man in that. But honestly, I neither require nor wish your pity."

I turned myself in his arms to look up at him. "I don't pity you. I love you."

Jarik touched my cheek softly and said, "I know. And you love Kurit, your husband. These are both good things that I deeply cherish."

"If Kurit has changed his ways, then I cannot ever kiss you again as I did at the cottage," I said bluntly.

"I know," he said, nodding.

"Do you not long for one last kiss, then?" I asked. I had been hoping to hear his romantic words requesting it, but when they had not come, I felt compelled to make the offer.

He smiled beautifully. "If you would grant it, my dear Aenna, I would certainly wish it."

So we kissed again. It was gentle and soft, lingering but not fiery. I was barely aroused at all, in fact. What I did feel was a sweet warmth spreading throughout my body as our lips slid lovingly against one another. It had the sweet sorrow of a good-bye kiss, the pleasant hopefulness of promised affection, and the comfort of a kiss from a loved one. While other kisses in my life have been wonderful and memorable, it is only that kiss that remains so vividly imprinted upon my memory that there is no lost sense of time. To this very day, I can still feel that kiss lingering on my lips, and it soothes my soul in times of anguish.

* * *

Though there was a pleasant welcome awaiting us at the palace, Kurit was not among those who stood in wait. After brief words had been exchanged and we went inside, I whispered sadly to Jarik, "He's not even here to welcome us."

"Did you not see him on the parlour balcony above?" Jarik asked in surprise. When I shook my head, he said, "He stood there smiling down upon you until he noticed that I was looking at him. He gave me a polite wave and went inside. I suspect that he shall make an appearance before you quite soon."

"Then perhaps I should make myself available to him," I said quietly and then more loudly added, "I shall be in my workroom. Lyenta, do please take Raelik up to the nursery."

"Very good, Majesty," said Leiset in the proper, official tone she used whenever we were in public. "I shall attend to your belongings in your chambers."

"Thank you, Leiset," I said in my own formal tone. I turned again to Jarik and said, "You may accompany me to my workroom if it is your wish."

"Indeed, Majesty," said Jarik as he led me to the door. Once we were inside, he smiled and said, "You do that far too well."

"What do you mean?"

"Step into your regal airs." He chuckled.

I laughed. "Is it that false?"

"No! Not to most people. But I have long known otherwise, and I find it amusing."

I pretended to have a scolding expression and said, "You mock me, Lord Jarik."

Jarik laughed and sat down, as did I. "I do not mock you at all, and you know it. But I see how tense you are, and any inspiration to your laughter is a blessed one."

As always, he had hit the mark. I was trembling and holding my hands tightly together to avoid showing it. I wondered where Kurit was. I wondered when he would come to me, or if I was expected to go to him. I wondered what would be said, what would happen, and I was wary of every outcome. My stomach churned, and there was an unpleasant burning in my chest.

"Do you wish me to leave you to your thoughts?" Jarik asked softly, and I realized I had been staring at my hands in silence for a few moments.

"No!" I said quickly. "Don't go. I shall go mad if I sit here alone too long."

"Very well, then I shall—" he began but stopped speaking when we heard a movement from Kurit's workroom. It sounded as if someone had just entered and closed the door behind them. Jarik and I sat in still silence for a few moments. "Aenna, are you ill?" Jarik eventually asked. "You've gone quite pale. Shall I pour you something to steady your nerves?"

I shook my head, my eyes still transfixed on the door between the workrooms. "I must keep a clear head." Why isn't he coming to see me? I wondered. Is he even in there? Is he sitting there, waiting for me?

"There is a water pitcher, if you wish."

It took me a moment to comprehend Jarik's words. I looked at him and shook my head again. "No, thank you. I shall be fine. If you put a glass of anything in my hand, I'm likely to spill it all over myself."

We sat quietly again for a few moments until finally there was a soft knock at the door linking the workrooms. I rose to my feet and said, "It is unlocked. Enter."

The door opened slowly, and there stood Kurit. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked very different than the last time I had laid eyes upon him. His face was freshly shaved, quite a difference from his usual scruffy, drunken chin. His skin and hair seemed more alive than I recalled, though I could tell by the way his hair sat upon his head that he had been running his hands through it nervously. He was not dressed very formally, but his clothes were new and clean. I noticed that his tunic was my favourite deep blue.

When he looked at me and smiled nervously, I noticed the most significant difference of all: his eyes had become alive once more. There was no dullness, no waver in his glance, and certainly no anger or disapproval in the manner in which he regarded me. The clear differences in him astounded me such that I was briefly stunned, and when he spoke it almost startled me to hear his voice.

"Welcome home, Aenna. And Jarik," he said, nodding politely to each of us in turn. I glanced to the side briefly and noticed that Jarik was standing as well. "I trust your journey was without difficulty," Kurit said, sounding very diplomatic.

I looked at him and nodded, completely unable to speak.

Just before I fell into shame at my speechlessness, Jarik once again saved me by breaking the awkward silence. "The journey went well, thank you."

"Raelik is in his nursery," I blurted, needing to say something and not having anything better in mind.

Kurit smiled at me warmly. I had not seen that smile in so long that I had forgotten it. My knees felt weak.

"And he is well also, I trust?" Kurit asked.

"Oh, yes, he is quite well," I said quickly. I wondered if either of the two men were aware of just how close I was to shaking into pieces upon the floor.

"Then I shall see him soon, after we've had a chance to speak," Kurit said. His voice trembled on the last few words, and his happy smile had been replaced with the nervous one again. He turned to Jarik and politely said, "Jarik, may I please have some time to speak with my wife?"

Jarik looked to me to approve the request. I nodded to him. He turned back to Kurit, gave a polite bow, and left the room quietly.

"He protects you well," Kurit said, still looking at the door. His hands were clasped behind his back as though he did not know what else to do with them.

"Yes, he does," I said, feeling rather anxious to know that those words had been spoken before. I prayed that it was not a premonition of a fight, as had happened the last time.

Kurit turned his eyes to me and confidently said, "He shall not have to protect you from me again." When he saw that I could not think of a reply, he added, "I am still in disbelief that I could..." He hung his head and sighed. "I cannot believe I sank to that depth." He sighed again and then looked at me intently. "I am sorry, Aenna. I am deeply, entirely sorry for what I did to you. And not just for striking you, though it is that crime that causes me the most anguish. I am sorry for every cruel word, for every time I pushed you aside, for every negligence and every other mistake. But you should believe none of that."

I was startled by his last words. "Why not?"

"Because I've apologized too many times before, and they were meaningless. You told me so yourself, and you were right. This time the apologies are real, but I have given you no reason to trust in that, and so you should not. You should make me earn your trust, for I fully intend to do so." He pointed an open hand to the chair behind me and said, "Sit, please. I have many things I need to try to explain. I might have to pace about a bit, but there's no reason why you should remain standing."

As he requested, I took a seat. I noticed small beads of perspiration on his forehead, though the room was not overly warm.

"After I left the cottage—you did know I came to the cottage to find you?" he asked quickly. I nodded. "Right. After I left and returned home, I went immediately to Tash. I told him that I needed something to make me stop needing to be drunk out of my mind at all times. He said, 'Living.' I sneered at him and said I wanted medication to make me stop wanting alcohol and not flippant remarks. He said there was no such medicine and added that he was not being flippant. He said that my only hope was to return to the land of the living, and then he walked away from me. I was furious. Then I cried in a most unmanly fashion. And then I did the first truly intelligent thing I have done since you were taken away from me: I sent an urgent messenger to Cael and asked him to come to my aid in Endren as soon as he could."

Kurit sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It took Cael four days to arrive. So determined was I not to take a drink during that time, I ordered myself to be secretly locked in the dungeon until Cael came to let me out. Officially, I was recuperating from a cold in my chambers. Tash protested the plan, especially when I really did become ill. I had visions of horrible things—not coherent things, but moving shadows and hidden monstrosities that yearned to harm me in my sleep. I was convinced for several hours one afternoon that something was going to eat my legs. But there I remained, locked in that cell, until Cael arrived and had me dragged out.

"After several dunkings in a bath to wash the filth and vomit and dungeon stench from me, I slept. When I awoke, Tash force-fed me a bitter gruel while Cael watched, stone-faced. By the next day, I was coherent enough to speak with him.

"I told him everything, Aenna. Every morbid thought, every misdeed, every paranoid delusion, everything." Kurit sighed again and rubbed his forehead with both hands.

"And what did he say?" I asked.

Kurit chuckled unpleasantly. "Oh, Aenna, he was furious. Absolutely furious. He said he had known there were problems. He said that you had come to him in tears for assistance but that he had thought you to be overly anxious. He cursed and berated me for some time and then cursed himself for giving you what he now saw as foolish advice, though he would not tell me what that advice was.

"Then finally he sat back down and told me the only remnant of my honour was my desire to set things right. We spoke at great length, well into the night, of what had gone wrong in my mind. I bared my soul to him in a very unmanly manner, I admit, and he helped me to understand the tricks my own mind was playing on me."

"Cael is a wise man," I said.

"That he is. He is to the mind what Tash is to the body. A physician of thoughts, if you will. He helped me to realize that I was angry with you. I had been telling myself that I was not, even when I acted as though I was." He stood and shook his head and hands. "No, wait. I'm not making any sense. Let me start from the beginning.

"You were taken from me. After the first few days, I believed you to be dead. I couldn't imagine that anyone would have taken you away and not demanded some sort of ransom unless they intended to kill you. I suppose that's why I didn't really suspect Sashken—I could have imagined her doing cruel things to you, but killing you? That was too much to believe.

"I could not fathom that a woman with child—even a strong one such as yourself—could survive any ordeal for long. So I grieved for you. I grieved madly, furiously. I broke things. I screamed out your name in the night. I did not behave as a man, and though I was shamed by my ridiculous behaviour, I was unable to stop myself.

"But the brutal part of it began to subside over the weeks and gave way to a very quiet loneliness. I slept most of the days and sat alone in darkness by night. I laid myself in your bed and held your pillows. I was not over the loss of you—not the least bit—but I became quiet and forlorn in my grief.

"Then suddenly, there you were, and with my son in your arms! Aenna, I was ecstatic! I thought my every prayer had been answered. For those first few hours, my mind was filled with delight and joy. Then the gravity of your situation struck me. By the Gods, you were so thin and so weakened. It broke my heart. And then to hear you tell of what you had suffered, Aenna, it was as if my very soul was torn from me.

"For I knew that you had suffered while I grieved. As I wept pathetically in my soft bed, you rescued yourself. I should have rescued you or at least tried harder than I did. And so again I grieved for you. I grieved at first for what you had endured, but then the grieving became as it had been before you returned."

Kurit paced, looking at his hands as he spoke. "I know it's mad, but I was still grieving your death while you stood living before my very eyes. And madder still," he said, chuckling wryly, "is that somehow I managed to resent you as an interruption to my mourning. It was only when I spoke of these things to Cael that I realized how absurd my thoughts were.

"You must understand that it's not that I wished you dead. Truly, that's not what it was at all. I loved you as much as I always had, and I love you still. I was angry with you for things that were not your fault, such as surviving despite my grief. I was angry that you had the strength to rescue yourself. Then I became angry because while I wallowed away my hours in misery, scantily hidden by matters of state and copious quantities of alcohol, you lived. I was barely alive, and you lived. You raised my son. You laughed with Jarik and your friends that worked with you on your marketplace. And the marketplace! Aenna, I seethed with anger and jealousy that I was drowning myself in drink while you were rebuilding Endren!

"Somewhere in my mind lurked the knowledge that you were undeserving of my anger. But instead of dealing with that truth rationally, I convinced myself I was angry at you for trivial things. For an interruption while I was supposedly concentrating. For whatever reason my mother gave me." He laughed again and said, "Can you believe, I even convinced myself you were having a love affair with Jarik, just so I could justify my anger towards you?"

I suppressed a shudder by digging my fingernails into my palms.

"And as for my mother..." He smiled wryly and shook his head, his hands on his hips. "She certainly did not help matters. I would be furious at her for belittling you but unable to coherently refute her because I was feeding on her hateful words to justify my own madness. But I grew angry with her nonetheless for her vehemence against you. I could not confront her, though. Throughout my entire life, Aenna, I have wanted to just..." Kurit clenched his fists and snarled. Then he dropped himself sadly in a chair and put his face in his hands for a moment. "But I could not speak to her as I wanted to. I could not send her away. She is, after all, my mother, and what sort of wretched son would I be if I defied her so?

"So I took my anger for her out on you. I was deliberately cruel, Aenna. I admit that now. Yes, I apologized for it, and I suppose I was sorry, but I was not sorry for having intended it. Because I did intend it, almost every time. Being cruel to you was the only sense of control and power I felt. My mother worked me as though I were her puppet. The Council paid me heed only out of civic duty and not of respect. The people loved you and only you. And as for you, you could barely tolerate me at that point. Understandably so, perhaps, but that didn't ease the feeling of powerlessness.

"Ah, but when I was cruel to you and saw the pain in your eyes, I knew that I had power over you, and I liked it. I'm a miserable wretch for it, but I must be honest with you, because Cael advised that I must be honest in all things henceforth, and I consider that sound advice indeed. I took a certain pleasure in lashing out at you, and then I would loathe myself for it hours later. And the more I loathed myself, the angrier I was at you for being so much more than what I was. On it went, doubling back on itself again and again."

He rose from his chair and went to the table across the room where there stood a pitcher and glasses. I was so used to his reach for alcohol that I wasn't even surprised by his move until I realized he was pouring water. He looked at me to offer me a glass as well, but I shook my head at him. I knew I was still too unstable to hold anything that might fall and break. I just watched as he took his water and sat back down.

"Cael was enormous help in these things. And to go further, he ensured that all alcohol was removed permanently from any room that I frequented and ordered that it was never again to be served to me at a meal. Though I must admit, I was so determined in my guilt to not become a drunkard again that the only time I was even tempted to seek that particular escape was, in fact, last night when I was informed that you would return today. I trembled nervously for hours and almost paced a path through the rug in my bedchamber. I was so afraid that you would return only long enough to say you were leaving Endren permanently."

Kurit looked at me sheepishly. "I'm still afraid of that, though I would understand it and not blame you in the least. Cael has offered for you to live in Staelorn, if you do not wish to remain with me in Endren. Or, if you wish me to go, he has said I am welcome there as well. These things are entirely up to you. I shall do whatever you ask, Aenna."

I wondered if I was as pale as I felt. I had not even considered sending him away, and my only thoughts of leaving had been to go with Jarik if Kurit had not changed, which clearly he had. My insides quivering, I managed to stammer, "I don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave either."

He nodded and smiled, though he did not look relieved. "I'm glad, Aenna. Thank you for that. But I have to tell you that you're free to change your mind on that. If you feel that I do not properly earn back your trust, you must feel free to send me away, despite any sense of civic duty you may have. I offered long ago to give up my crown for you, and I meant it. In my repentance now, I would effectively do so again. I'd go and only keep the title to preserve the nation."

"Your mother wouldn't hear of it," I blurted angrily and then promptly wished I could grab the words out of the air and stuff them back into my foolish mouth.

Kurit, however, did not appear angry. In fact, he laughed a little and said, "My mother is no longer a concern. I spoke with her two days after my long talk with Cael. I intended to reason with her, to tell her sincerely that she was hurting me more than you with her vehemence. But do you know what she did? Before I could even speak, she began to spew her venom and tell me how very improper it was of you to go running off in the night on some sudden vacation. Of course, she did not know that I had harmed you. The only people in the palace who knew of that were Cael and myself. She muttered about how scandalous it was for you to run off with Jarik and accused you of being in his bed."

Again I put my fingernails into my palms. A shudder took me nonetheless, and Kurit saw it. He rose and came to my side, his eyes filled with a tender concern that I had not seen in a very long time. "Aenna, don't be upset. I didn't believe her. In fact, I became furious with her, and it was not the fiery wrath you have seen between us before. It was a deep and cold anger, and I told her in a very low tone that I had had enough of her words. I actually told her to close her wretched mouth, if you can believe it."

He stood and began pacing again. "She was stunned, of course. I said, 'Keep your mouth closed from now on where Aenna is concerned. She is my wife, and whether or not you approve, she is your Queen.' I told her that I wouldn't listen to her hateful words any more, and that if I ever heard her speak against you again, I'd banish her from Endren, if not from all of Keshaerlan."

Kurit looked at me seriously and said, "Her face went dead, and she swept herself out of the parlour. I have barely seen her since. She keeps herself in her chambers at most times. I don't think she'll ever bother you again, Aenna.

"I expected to feel a horrible guilt for speaking to her that way, as I usually do after fighting her. But you know, Aenna, I didn't. I felt almost joyous," he said, laughing. "I felt relieved of a great burden. The thought of having to make good on my threat made me queasy, but having told her to close her mouth—do you know how many times I have wanted to say that? In my life, hundreds, nay, thousands! And never before have I done so. It was the most liberating experience of my life! I knew then that I had the strength to make things right, and with Cael's help, I have spent the remainder of your time away seeking to do just that.

"I began going outside at Cael's suggestion. I walked in your marketplace and smiled longingly at your statue. The sun hurt my eyes at first, but it felt good on my skin. I began to feel alive again and eager to see you."

Kurit smiled at me lovingly, just as he used to, so long before the madness. I almost wept at the sight, both in relief and sadness for time lost. "Aenna, I love you. I have missed you, and not merely these past few weeks. I have missed living with you. I have been foolish, and while some things may have been outside of my control, others were not, and I owe you a great deal of kindness and affection for what I have put you through."

He came to my side and tentatively reached out a trembling hand to touch my cheek. When I felt the warmth of his palm, I was overcome with too many emotions, and tears flowed forth from my eyes.

Kurit knelt beside my chair and whispered, "Please, no more tears. I cannot bear to make you cry anymore. If this is too much for you, I can leave—"

"No!" I said louder than I intended. I shook my head and said in a lower volume, "No. Please, I'm sorry, I don't mean to weep like this—it's just that it's all so much." I began wiping the tears away brusquely.

"Let me, please," he said gently as he brushed his fingertips softly on my cheeks. By the Gods, his eyes, his touch—it was as if he had woken from the dead and come to rescue me from his wretched self. It felt as though I was falling in love with him again, though I had not ceased loving him before. The intensity of it drove me to further tears, and as usual, I cursed myself inwardly for them.

"I can't keep up this way, Aenna. May I hold you?" he asked.

I nodded. We rose, and I fell into his waiting arms. In the same instant I experienced both joy at his touch and horror to know that I had betrayed him in his cousin's embrace. I felt for several minutes that I might be ill, so I held my breath as much as I could in order to settle my stomach.

"It was my greatest fear that I had killed your affection for me," he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.

"Kurit," I said weakly, "if I had been able to stop loving you, the pain of everything after that would have been negligible. "

He squeezed me tighter, and I regretted my words. I had not meant to cause him further anguish. It was then that I realized I believed his apologies and promises to make things right. My mind reeled against that, telling me that I was bound to be crushed again by this man if I trusted him fully. Yet I knew, in my heart, that I did believe him and trust him. No pattern of logic could dissuade that.

"I do love you, Kurit." I pulled back from his embrace to look at him sincerely. "And though it might not be the wisest course, I believe you when you say that you have set about making things right. I believe you, and I'm proud of you for having given up your addiction."

He shook his head slowly. "That is kind, Aenna, but I still must prove myself to you. I take strength from my desire to prove to you that I can live without drunkenness. I admit, a large part of the inspiration is not from you but rather from knowing that I have finally relieved myself of the burden of my mother's madness. But the rest of it is inspired to do what is right for you, my good wife, and for our son. And I suppose somewhere in the mixture is a sense of duty by my kingdom, but truly, though that possibly should be the foremost motivation, it is not. I simply cannot bear to let you down again. I cannot fathom the idea of having my son raised by a drunken brute.

"Aenna, striking you was the most revolting, unacceptable, and evil thing I have ever done. In time, I hope you can forgive me for it, but you should know that I never shall." He put a finger to his forehead and said, "In here shall always live the image of you sprawled out of the floor from my hand's strike. I would sooner die than ever do such a thing again, and I shall use that memory to ensure I am never again tempted to lose control inside a glass."

Kurit pulled me back towards him in a tender embrace, kissing my forehead repeatedly. "I love you, my Aenna," he said. "I shall spend the rest of my days proving that to you."

After a few minutes of a silent embrace, he cautiously asked, "Is it too soon for me to request the honour of kissing you?"

I leaned back in his arms and smiled. "You may request it," I gently teased, trying to lighten the tension.

Kurit smiled endearingly and, in his best formal voice eloquently asked, "Dearest Queen Aenna, whom I love and adore beyond all things, whom I have wronged but seek now to pay loving restitution, would you do this humble man the honour of granting him a kiss?"

I laughed delightedly for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much."

Kurit slipped his hand behind my head and pulled me towards him. When our lips met, I had to suppress a shudder, but the anxiety faded as I felt his mouth moving slowly against my own. His kisses were different than Jarik's, I realized—neither better nor worse, but certainly different. Less intense, but somehow happier. Then I realized I was too busy thinking to enjoy the kiss, and I promptly told my mind to hush itself.

When the kiss ended, he followed it with another on my cheek and then one on my forehead as he held me against him once more. "Everything shall be well again, Aenna, I promise you that. We shall know happiness again. All of us: you, me, Raelik, and even Jarik. Poor Jarik, the man has ached to put me in my place but has not done so for your sake. I should go speak with him, and tell him of the promises I have made you, and make them to him as well. I have missed his friendship."

Then he stiffened as though something was wrong, and my heart leapt in fear. He stepped back out of the embrace and said, "I almost forgot!" He went quickly to the door between the workrooms, disappeared into his for a moment, and then returned, closing the door once more behind him.

Kurit held out a closed hand before me. I looked at him in puzzlement.

"I have something for you, if you would accept it," he said tenderly. When he slowly opened his fingers, I saw sitting on his palm a golden chain, and affixed to it a pendant of two hearts entwined. It was almost exactly like the one that had been torn from my neck by my fiendish abductors.

"When you returned from Wusul and I bathed you, I noticed the one I gave you before was gone," he said softly. "But at the time, there were so many other things to worry about. I had this made as you were recovering, but there never seemed the proper time to give it to you. I intended to do so on the night you had first conceived the notion of your marketplace when I was to come to your room, but as you well know, I foolishly fell asleep drunk and disappointed you. After that, things were always simply too awful to think of this. And if everything is still too upsetting and you do not wish it now, then I can put it away again," he said with a bit of sadness in his voice.

"Kurit, it would make me dearly happy to have you put it around my neck right now," I said, trembling, knowing the meaning of the gift. It was a symbol of our love and union. I wanted that back.

He smiled like a little boy as he stepped behind me to clasp the chain around my neck. I touched the pendant with my fingertips; it felt right, as though it had been there all along.

Kurit put his hands on my shoulders, and I turned to face him. He was still smiling. I put my arms around him again and felt joy as he did likewise.

When we ended the embrace, he took my hands up and kissed them happily. "I should speak with my cousin now," he said. "Do you wish to come with me? To see Jarik, I mean?"

I shook my head. "My face is still puffy from my silly tears. Besides, knowing my Champion, he is but a few paces outside that door. Why don't you take him into your workroom and speak with him? You can tell him that I'm safely next door, that he might relax sufficiently to speak with you."

Kurit touched my cheek fondly again and nodded. "I shall do just that," he said, "and then perhaps you will come with me to be with our boy. I have missed him as well, and though he is too young to understand, I wish to pledge to him too that I will not fail either of you again."

With that, Kurit went to my door and opened it. He laughed and turned back to me to say, "Wise Queen, you spoke the truth, for here stands your Champion, not five paces from your door." He held an arm outside, and Jarik came to the doorway.

Jarik looked at me in concern, so I quickly smiled and said, "I am fine, Jarik. You and Kurit have things to speak about. I shall be right here, so you needn't worry."

Jarik looked at Kurit, then me again and said bluntly, "You have been weeping."

"For relief," I said, rubbing the last of the tears from my cheeks. "For happy, sweet relief. Go now. Honestly, Jarik, I am feeling better than I have for a long time. Both of you go to Kurit's workroom and speak kindly to each other."

They both nodded. Kurit closed my door as he left.

I sat back down and sighed with relief, though I felt another shudder of guilt for knowing I had betrayed Kurit. I knew also that Jarik and I would have to sit with him soon and tell him what had occurred while we were all still experiencing the spirit of hope and forgiveness. Kurit had made an effort to set things right. It would be unfair, I told myself, to keep a significant truth from him. I knew that he would be hurt and possibly angry, but for some reason I believed that if we were honest soon, it could all be worked out without anyone having to be sent away.

I realized that that was my real fear—that Kurit would send Jarik away, and Jarik, in an attempt to be loyal and honourable, would indeed go. And while that might have been the best thing for Jarik, to go and forget about his love for me, I very selfishly wanted him to be with me as my beloved friend forever.

As I pondered my conflicting emotions of relief and secret shame, the outward door of my workroom opened without so much as a polite knock. Kasha strode purposefully into the room, turning my blood cold.

She closed the door behind her, turned the bolt to lock it, and stood staring at me blankly. Then I noticed she was smiling. Very quietly, almost whispering, she said, "You have returned after all."

My heart beat so hard in my chest that I wondered if she heard it. I wondered if it were possible that she had taken Kurit's words to heart and had come to make peace. My stomach fluttered unpleasantly, and I found that I could not speak.

Then I was struck with horror as her smile changed to a hideous and deadly sneer. Before I could react, she pulled forth from the folds of her dress a long, thin blade and pounced upon me.

By some miracle of the Gods, I caught her descending wrist and pulled it to one side. I had not noticed before just how much larger I was than she. My hand encircled her scrawny little wrist, but between my continuing weakness from not eating and sleeping and her fury to see me dead, I could not force her to drop the poignard she held over me. I saw that the tip was encrusted in some kind of yellow dirt but spared no time to wonder at that. As she pushed me backwards, the chair tipped and I had finally the good sense to scream.

As I fell I knew that I had to make sure above all else that I did not let go of her wrist, lest it give her the mere second she needed to plunge her blade into me. She dropped herself upon me and tried to force the tip of the poignard back towards my throat as I screamed again.

All of a sudden she was flying upwards away from me. I saw Jarik, his hands roughly about the horrible woman's waist, pick her up and throw her clear across the room. I heard a brutal thud as she landed against the wall.

"Aenna!" cried a voice above me. Kurit was there, a look of absolute horror upon his face. He embraced me quickly, shielding me with his arms. I was so stunned from what had happened that I could not speak, and it took me a moment to realize that I had stopped breathing. When the next breath came, it carried with it an involuntary noise of alarm.

"It's all right, Aenna," Kurit said as he tried to lift me to my feet. I staggered and stumbled, still in shock. In fact, I do not recall by what power I did finally manage to stand—only that I found myself upright and leaning against my husband.

"Mother, by the Gods, what have you done?" Kurit cried in anguish, looking at the vile woman as she tried to regain her own breath and stand.

I looked to Jarik. He held the poignard in his hand, his other hand a fist. He stared at Kasha in obvious loathing, and I thought that he might at any moment lunge forward and plunge the blade into her skull.

There came a pounding at the bolted outer door and calls asking if all was well.

"Unlock the door and let the guards in," Kurit said to Jarik. "And give me the blade." Jarik handed the poignard to Kurit and went towards the outer door. "The guards shall escort you away, Mother. I do not wish to see your face ever again," he growled, though I could see that he was close to tears of fear and sadness for what had almost occurred.

A guard entered the room from Kurit's workroom, his sword drawn. As I watched him enter, everything seemed to slow in time with a low hum, just it had when I had spied the man with the crossbow at Endren's gate when my new love had first brought me to his city.

Kurit turned to speak to the guard, still holding his mother's poignard. I turned to see Kasha rising from the floor and pushing herself away from the wall behind her with both arms. She glanced at Jarik, who was facing the door he had just opened. Then she looked to Kurit, who was handing the blade over to the guard. I watched, unable to make a sound, as she leapt forth and snatched the weapon out of Kurit's open hand.

I think Kurit made some kind of cry of alarm, because Jarik spun around to look at the scene. He leapt across the room towards me, but I saw Kasha's blade coming down and knew he would be too late. I stumbled backwards out of her way, but my legs felt water-logged and did not move quickly enough. My eyes became transfixed on the blade as it moved towards my chest.

Then I was moving to the side. I felt Jarik's hands on me, pulling me out of the way of Kasha's strike. The jarring effect brought time and sound back to normal, and I heard myself scream as the mother of my husband plunged her poignard into my left shoulder, almost in the same place where the bolt meant for Kurit had buried itself.

Kurit was there, shoving his mother away from me. As he did so, she pulled her blade out of me, which hurt a great deal worse than it had going in. I felt myself fall against Jarik as Kurit furiously bellowed a hateful cry at Kasha and knocked her down.

She sat on the ground, the poignard still in her hand, and cried, "I did this for you, my beloved son, that you might be free of her evil grasp!" Then she closed her eyes, held the dagger in both hands, and plunged it into her own breast.

Blood sprayed from her self-inflicted wood, and she began to twitch. I buried my face in Jarik's shoulder when she began to cough and gag on the blood that filled her lungs and throat as she died. I could not bear to watch the revolting scene.

I heard Jarik bellow for someone to fetch Tash. Then there were other hands on my back, and I heard Kurit say, "Come, Aenna, let's get you out of here."

I lifted my head from Jarik to look at Kurit, and a wave of nausea and dizziness overcame me. I think I began to fall, for when my eyes cleared a moment later, both men were holding me upright and speaking to me.

My chest felt odd, as if there were a great weight upon it. I gagged, though I had been turned away from Kasha's gory corpse. A terrible fear seized me as I realized that something was very wrong. My fingers and toes felt as though they were on fire, but the rest of me shivered in cold.

"Something's wrong," I said, almost unable to speak. My throat was tight, and I found that I had to pant roughly just to get any air at all. I looked at Jarik and then at Kurit, stricken by terror, and tried to tell them again that something was wrong, but my throat closed itself entirely, and I found that my tongue had swelled so that it filled my mouth.

I tried frantically to breathe but could not. Kurit and Jarik eased me down to lie upon the floor, and I gripped their sleeves in panic. I struggled to breathe, to tell them I couldn't breathe, but nothing worked. I saw their eyes upon me in fear and lost consciousness as I heard them both calling my name frantically.

### Chapter 24

I MUST SAY NOW that this chapter of my tale is written not from my own memories but entirely from things I have learned since my recovery. Of course, there is no suspense to be lost in admitting that I did, in time, recover, for clearly I could not have written the story you now read if I had not survived to do so.

Moments after I lost consciousness because my throat had closed, Tash ran into my workroom. He yelled at my two beloved men to back away from me quickly, and they did so. Then he began to cut a small hole low on my throat, and it took Kurit and two guards to hold Jarik back. Apparently, my good Champion was panicked and believed Tash to be murdering me.

What Tash did do was save my life by putting a glass dropper tube into my throat below the swelling so that my lungs could still take in air. It seemed this was the accepted practice for those who swelled as a result of bee stings. Once it became apparent that I was no longer in immediate danger of suffocation, Jarik stopped trying to attack Tash.

Kurit ordered guards to take his mother's body away. He declared that she could still be buried alongside her husband in the royal crypt outside of Endren but gave the order that there would not be any official period of mourning for her, nor a funeral, nor a procession. He told everyone present that her crime of attempted regicide would cost her any reverence that might have otherwise been due.

As Kurit spoke, Tash washed my wound to try to clear out any remaining poison that had yet not been worked into my system. The wound itself was not very bad, though of course I was weakened by the blood loss. I was taken to my chambers and placed in my own bed. Tash had someone find a wider tube for my throat to allow me to breathe more easily, and the open end was covered with a light gauze to prevent me from inhaling anything but air.

It was several hours before the swelling in my throat and tongue subsided sufficiently to allow Tash to remove the tube and then dress the wound he had made in my throat. Jarik and Kurit remained by my bedside the entire time, and Leiset was there as well when not sent on an errand by Tash.

The next morning, Tash told them that he feared he might have only prolonged the inevitable. He pointed out that I was not in the best physical health to begin with—Jarik confirmed that I had neither slept nor eaten well while I was away—and there had been sufficient poison to kill me. He said it was a blessing of the Gods that he had arrived quickly enough to wash some of it away, but that it might have been too late.

"I fear that she shall die in the next day or so," he told Kurit grimly. Kurit says he shall never forget the horror of those words. Tash said I was likely too weak to recover soon enough before I would suffer from starvation. All attempts to feed me had apparently failed.

Tash left me alone with Jarik, Kurit, and Leiset. Leiset says she could not help but weep to see how the men that I loved looked upon me with great anguish. They just stared at me in silence for some time as Leiset wept quietly in the corner of the room.

Then Kurit said, "I need to speak with you in my chambers, Jarik." He rose, opened the door between our rooms, and waited until Jarik joined him a moment later.

Leiset says that she was able to hear most of their conversation because they left the door partially open and instructed her to call to them immediately if I moved at all. I have asked Kurit about this conversation many times as well, and between the two accounts, I believe that I can paint an accurate portrait of what was said.

When Jarik joined Kurit, the latter was staring out of the windowed balcony doors. Kurit did not turn around but said, "I just got her back, and again she is being taken from me."

"Forgive me, for I have failed her," Jarik said. "I should have removed either Aenna or Kasha from the room immediately. I cannot fathom why I was so foolish as to not keep them apart."

Kurit did not respond to Jarik's apology. Instead, he asked, "Did she really suffer so terribly, with the sleeplessness and lack of appetite? Was it really that awful?"

Jarik replied, "She had many difficulties to work through."

Kurit turned finally to face his cousin and said, "I think you had better tell me all that occurred."

"I cannot."

"Why?"

"I do not wish to speak of things that Aenna may not wish me to speak of."

Kurit regarded Jarik in silence for a moment and then asked, "What happened that makes you so ashamed to speak?"

"Leave it alone, Kurit. Go back to her now. Hold her hand and pray that she lives. Do not ask to hear things that you will wish you did not know."

After another long pause, Kurit bluntly asked, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Were you intimate with her?" Kurit asked without anger or sadness. Leiset says he asked it as flatly as though he were asking someone idly about the weather. When Jarik did not respond, Kurit asked in the same flat tone, "Did you take my wife to your bed?"

"No," Jarik said.

"But something did happen."

"Kurit, just leave the issue in the past." Leiset says my Champion's deep voice broke as he said sadly, "She's dying in there!"

"Which is why I need to know these things," Kurit insisted. "What happened between you and Aenna while you were gone?"

"She loves you. She married you, Kurit," came Jarik's reply.

"And you wish otherwise."

"No," said Jarik quickly. Then he paused a moment and said, "Not necessarily. I wish many things had been otherwise. I wish that you had both been happy."

"And you could have made her happy," Kurit stated flatly.

"I did not say that."

"But you know it in your heart, don't you? You could have made Aenna happy."

Jarik rose as if he were about to storm out of the room but halted himself at the door. He sighed and, without turning to face Kurit, said, "What of it? She married you, and you are my friend, my cousin, and my King."

"Yet she was unhappy with me."

Kurit says Jarik spun around in fury and shouted, "No, Kurit, she loved you! That's the problem. She loved you so dearly that your abuse broke her heart."

Kurit sank into a chair and ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked at Jarik's accusing eyes and said, "I know. And I mean this truthfully and without malice, cousin, that I think that you would have been a better husband to her than I have been."

Jarik mumbled something so low that even Kurit did not hear it.

"What was that?" Kurit asked.

Jarik glared at Kurit and said, "I certainly never would have struck her."

Kurit nodded slowly. "You're furious with me for that, and rightly so. I am furious with myself." He looked at Jarik for some time, then said, "I see the vehemence in your eyes. Do you despise me for what I have done to her?"

Jarik regarded Kurit coldly for a few moments and then turned his face away, sat back down, and said, "I did that night."

"What would you have done, had I come to you both as you left?"

"Kurit, why do you ask? What good is it to hear of terrible things?"

Leiset says Kurit's voice was pained as he said, "Because this is entirely my fault. I took a beautiful flower, pulled it from its home, and let it be trampled on, even trampled it myself, and neglected it until now there she lies dying, and I can do nothing." Kurit has told me that he had to fight to not weep as he spoke. "I need to know what she suffered. I need to hear how despicable I was, that I might carry the pain of that in my heart as punishment for my crimes against her. So I ask again, what would you have done if I had tried to prevent her from leaving?"

Jarik coldly replied, "I'd have cut you down in a heartbeat."

"So you do despise me. I suppose I deserve that."

Jarik sighed and said, "Kurit, you were a different man that night. When you came to the cottage to seek her, I saw that you were no longer that drunken wretch but again becoming the good man we once knew. I was actually surprised you didn't destroy yourself once you had realized what you had done."

Kurit nodded slowly as he admitted, "The thought crossed my mind, but to be truthful, I lacked the courage to take the notion seriously."

"Aenna did not lack that courage."

Kurit says his heart froze when he realized what Jarik meant by that. "She didn't... are you telling me she tried to kill herself?"

"I had to forcibly restrain her from hurling herself off the bluffs."

In shock and horror, Kurit said, "By the Gods themselves. I had no idea that... I knew she was angry and guessed that she was hurt, but to go that far..." He put his head in his hands and said sadly, "I had no idea that I had done such damage."

Jarik relentlessly went on with the awful facts of what had occurred. "She almost went mad from the attempt. For several days she could neither speak nor move of her own accord. She was as the dead, waking from her reverie only long enough to occasionally weep pitifully."

"How did she come out of that?"

"She found reason to laugh."

"To laugh?"

"At me," Jarik said bluntly. "Leiset was in danger of becoming ill with exhaustion and worry, and so one afternoon I tried to put Aenna's hair up myself. We didn't know if she was aware of anything, but if she was we didn't want her to feel unkempt. I couldn't do it, though—the hair kept falling from the pins and sticking out from her head absurdly, and she saw it in the mirror, and it made her laugh."

"Was she better after that?"

"At times. When she was with Raelik."

"And the rest of the time?"

"She was lonely. Desperately sad and lonely. And she begged—" Jarik cut himself off.

"For what?"

Kurit says Jarik looked away and whispered sadly, "She would beg to be held."

"Did you hold her?"

"Yes."

"Often?"

"Yes."

"While she slept?"

"Not all night. When she asked me to hold her at night, I would until she slept, and then I would leave, lest someone enter and suspect impropriety."

"So you did not make love with her."

"No."

"Did she ask you to?"

Jarik slammed his fist on the chair and then pointed a threatening finger at Kurit. "Don't you dare ask that! Don't you make her out to be some kind of trollop!"

"I need to know if she loved you as you loved her."

"It doesn't matter!"

"It does. Did she ask you to bed her?"

"I will not answer," Jarik grumbled.

"Jarik, did Aenna wish you to love her intimately?" Kurit insisted, in his typical way of driving people mad until they would finally just answer his question to make him stop asking.

"Don't ask that, Kurit. She loved you, she was loyal to you—"

"In body, but was she loyal in her heart?"

Kurit says Jarik rose so quickly from the chair that it fell backwards in a clatter of noise. Jarik then began to shout angrily, "How can you ask that? How dare you ask that? She loved you, and you broke her heart! How dare you ask whether or not that broken heart sought comfort elsewhere? Have you no mercy? How dare you condemn her for desires you left unfulfilled?"

"I don't condemn her for it!" Kurit cried out in anguish. "I know that I quite likely drove her into your arms! That's why I want to know! I want to know if my mistakes cost me that, too. She did ask you, didn't she?"

"Fine, then, yes! She was so empty inside! What's the matter with you, that you would have such a treasure to love and you would cast her aside? She longed for your touch, but you were too drunk or too angry to give it."

"And yet you say you did not make love with her, even when she asked," Kurit said softly.

"I would not betray you, nor would I take advantage of a lonely woman whom I am forsworn to protect, who turns to me for comfort," said Jarik, still with an edge of anger but no longer yelling.

"Even though you loved her."

"Yes," said Jarik sadly.

"You're a better man than I," Kurit grumbled.

"Are you accusing me of lying?" Jarik snarled.

"No! I mean what I say. I don't know that, were I in your place, I could have been so strong."

"Strength had nothing to do with it. I admit I was often weak and kissed her." There was another pause, and then Jarik asked, "Does that anger you?"

"I would challenge any other man for having done so, but I cannot find it in my heart to hate you. Not for loving her," Kurit said sadly. "I could not begrudge you for loving that which I also love. Not you, my dearest friend and kin."

"And yet I did betray you, and that weight does not rest easily upon me," Jarik admitted.

"I betrayed her. You brought her back to me anyway. Again, you have returned her to me. I know that you loved her before all of this. I have known it for a long time. You could have taken her for yourself when you found her in Mikilrun. You could have taken her from me this time. But you didn't. I thank you for that. I owe you for that."

"All that you owe is as nothing, now that she is dying because I failed to protect her."

"No more than I did by allowing my mother to stay in the palace when I knew that I had incensed her."

"I have failed to protect her too many times. She has suffered wounds, abduction, and far too many sorrows. I have not been able to protect her from any of those things. Her only true Champion has ever been herself. Her own strength and intellect saved her each time, not those us who have loved her," Jarik said. "You're wrong that I could have taken her for myself. She is not like the women of the court. She does not wait for directions, instructions, and orders. She acts of her own accord. I have never returned her to you. She has always returned herself. She does not wait for a Champion to protect her."

"Except when you stopped her from taking her own life. You saved her life then. You were her Champion then," Kurit pointed out.

"No. That was the horrible thing, the way she fought me. She wasn't walking to the bluffs in daylight expecting to be rescued. She crept out in the middle of the night, walked there on her own, proudly, not knowing I had been on my balcony unable to sleep and had seen her leave, not knowing that I was following her. She didn't want to be saved. When I saw what she was about to do and called to her, she didn't even turn around but walked faster, intent on destroying herself. Never have I run so fast. I had to drag her to the ground to stop her, and even then she clawed at the ground, trying to pull herself to the edge. I was not saving her life. I was condemning her to it. I very much believe that the only thing that prevented her from trying again was guilt over leaving her son motherless."

"Even still? Do you think she wishes to die even now?"

"I don't know. She seemed to improve her outlook over time. I think she regained some hope. She has had brief moments of happiness recently. I don't know if she is happy, though. She was hopeful things had improved for you but was nervous on our return," Jarik said. "You have gone pale. Did your conversation with her not go well?"

"No, it went quite well, actually. She let me hold her and kiss her once. She even favoured me with a smile and some laughter. But hearing all of this... I had hoped that Tash was being dramatic. I couldn't imagine that she could truly die. Not strong Aenna. But if her will to live is as drained as you say..."

"You fear that she will allow herself to slip away," said Jarik bluntly.

"Don't say it. Don't breathe the words. I can't let that happen."

"You have not heard my message. Nobody controls Aenna's will but Aenna. Her love for either of us didn't stop her desire to die that night. You broke her heart. Loving me is morally and legally wrong and causes her guilt and pain. Only love for her child is untainted. She is dying whether we approve or not."

"Stop saying that," Kurit pleaded.

"You know as well as I that Tash would not make such a proclamation of doom without reason."

"No. She's survived through hardships before. She's strong."

"Was strong. My failure to protect her and your failure to treat her as she deserved sapped that strength. She's dying, Kurit. And we all had a hand in killing her. Now go and be with her in her last hours. Let Raelik say goodbye."

"You give up on her too easily."

"Never. But I understand why she would give up on us." Jarik went to the door to Kurit's receiving room.

"Where are you going?"

"To seek the last vestige of my honour," Jarik said quietly and then left.

Kurit remained in his chambers quietly for some time and then returned to my bedside. After kissing my forehead, he said to Leiset, "I must find a way to explain this to my son. I'll return with Raelik shortly, but I want you to summon me immediately if there is any change."

Leiset says Kurit left, and she stayed with me in silence for about half an hour. Then Jarik entered, dressed in his finest ceremonial armour, the crest of the Queen's Champion upon his breastplate. He knelt at the side of my bed and bowed his head in silence for a few minutes. When he looked up, Leiset tells me that his eyes were brimming with tears.

My beloved Champion took my hand, kissed it, and then turned it over and pressed my palm to his cheek. His tears rolled onto my hand as he said, "Forgive me, my Queen, for failing you yet again."

Then he rose, handed Leiset a sealed letter, and asked that she put it in my hands when I would soon be laid to rest. Then he left quickly, leaving Leiset behind to cry for us both as she tucked the letter away in one of my drawers.

### Chapter 25

I HEARD NOTHING THAT was said to me whilst unconscious. I wish dearly that I had felt Jarik's touch or Kurit's words of love, but I recall nothing. But three days after Tash had proclaimed me to be on the edge of death, I became conscious enough to feel that someone was holding my right hand and that my throat was quite sore.

I could not open my eyes, so I tried instead to squeeze the hand that I felt. I wasn't sure if that had even worked until I heard Kurit's voice close to me but muffled as though he were speaking through a pillow. He was calling to me, begging me to show a sign of life. He asked frantically if I could feel his hand touching my cheek, and I could.

Still, my eyes would not open. I heard other voices and became confused with the cacophony about me. Had it not been for Kurit's hand still clenching my own, I would have been frightened by the chaos.

I tried to speak but my dry, aching throat wouldn't allow it. To be honest, I don't think that I could have managed to be coherent anyway. The voices around me made little sense, though I could tell that they were speaking words I ought to have understood.

Finally, someone put water to my lips, and I tried to gulp at it, desperate for the cold liquid to soothe my throat. Through the other sounds, I heard Tash's distinct voice order me not to drink quickly and not to speak at all.

The soothing effect of the cold water must have relaxed me, for I fell back into my deep sleep. The voices faded out entirely, and I was glad of it.

My next memory is of waking to feel something warm cuddled against my right side. I knew in an instant it was my son with his head nestled into my shoulder, for the scent of his hair brought forth every maternal memory and instinct. Though I was not feeling quite right and still confused as to where I was and what had happened, feeling him breathing in sleep against me was great comfort. I think I may have smiled.

I soon found the strength to open my eyes and look at Raelik. I felt such joy at seeing him there that I almost wept. I was filled with a rush of wordless love for my darling child.

I turned my head a little more when I heard a sound beside the bed. Kurit was slumped awkwardly in a chair, snoring gently. That's when I realized it was night, for the little bit of light in the room was from a lamp and not outside.

I tried to call to my husband, but the beginning of the whisper locked my throat in pain. I couldn't understand why my throat was so sore. It felt raw, and my tongue felt odd in my mouth. I had no memory at that point of the stabbing, the swelling, and everything else that had happened. I could feel a dressing wrapped around my throat but didn't know why it was there.

As I shifted a little in the bed, I became aware of a dull ache in my left shoulder. Memories of what had occurred then flooded my mind, and I felt a moment of panic.

I must have become tense or shivered or something, for Raelik woke. He lifted his head from my shoulder and whispered, "Mumma?"

I turned to him and smiled, remembering then Tash's directive not to speak. Raelik lifted himself up to his knees to look at me, his little hands balancing himself by leaning on my arm. When he saw me awake and smiling at him, his sweet face glowed with delight. "Papa!" he cried out. "Papa! Mumma's all better!"

Kurit jolted awake at the sudden sound. He looked at me, and seeing that I was indeed awake, his face lit up just as much as our son's had. Kurit came to my side quickly and whispered, "Gods be praised!" He touched my cheek softly and said, "Don't try to speak. Tash had to put a hole in your throat because you could not breathe. He says it's healing well—thankfully without infection—and although you likely could speak, he insists that you had better not just to be safe."

Raelik grabbed Kurit's sleeve and said, "Papa, can Mumma stay here now?"

I didn't understand what the boy meant until I saw Kurit's face regard Raelik with a pained sadness. "Yes, Raelik, Mumma's staying now. She's not going away anymore."

My heart twisted itself into a knot to realize that they had thought me to be dying, and Kurit had undoubtedly explained to Raelik that I was leaving. I wanted so badly to put my baby boy into another world where he had never had to endure such an explanation. I felt my jaw begin to tremble as tears approached. I was devastated to know that my son had had to learn about so many awful things at his young age.

Kurit saw that I was upset and wisely scooped Raelik up from the bed before the child saw my anguish. Kurit stood Raelik up on the floor and said, "Mumma's going to be fine now, Raelik. But how would you like to do something nice for her?" I saw the boy's head nod vigorously and remembered how he had "guarded" me at the cottage. Kurit smiled at our son and said, "Then go into Leiset's room and wake her up. Tell her that your Mumma is awake and to go fetch Tash. Can you do that?"

Raelik nodded again, delighted to have such attention and responsibility.

"That's my good little man," said Kurit with great affection. "Go now. Hurry up, but don't run!"

Raelik scampered out of the room despite the directive against running. Kurit returned to my side and took my hand.

"I know why you look as though you're going to weep," he said softly. "But you mustn't. It'll just hurt your throat." He caressed my cheek softly as his own face began to betray sadness. "I didn't want to have to tell him about your impending death, Aenna, truly I didn't. But we thought you were going to die, and I wanted him to be with me at your side to say goodbye to you. I thought that..." Kurit bit his lip and looked away. He shut his eyes tightly in a clear attempt not to weep. When he lost the fight, he roughly brushed his tears away and looked at me again. "I thought that I'd never look into your eyes again."

Then he shook his head and said, "What's the matter with me? You must be parched! Here, there's water here." Very gently, he put water to my lips, and I happily drank.

He set the glass down and gently wiped my face with a cool cloth.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "You must be. But Tash said the poison may have affected your stomach, so perhaps you feel too ill to eat."

Though I had recalled Kasha stabbing me, I had not had yet the presence of mind to wonder why my throat had swollen, nor why I had been so close to death. When Kurit mentioned poison, I remembered the yellow dirt encrusted upon the end of her blade.

Kurit saw my look of consternation and said, "You don't even know. I'm sorry. I can't think straight. I'm just so glad to see you awake. We thought that you were dying until you woke briefly this afternoon. There was poison on the poignard, Aenna. Mother, she..." An incredulous look passed over his face as he babbled. "I still can't believe that she could do such a thing. She wanted you dead and tried to ensure it by poisoning the blade with brimane crystals. It makes the throat swell shut, only for a short time, but long enough to suffocate the victim. I suppose she thought that she—"

He stopped speaking as Tash burst into the room with Leiset right behind him, carrying Raelik.

"Look! Mumma's all better!" my son proclaimed.

Tash bustled Kurit out of his way and put his hand to my head as he felt my wrist for a pulse with his other hand. He did not even look at Kurit as he asked, "Did you give her some water?"

"Yes," Kurit said quickly.

Tash looked at me intently and said, "Don't speak. Just nod for yes. Did it hurt to drink?"

I shook my head and proceeded to answer his onslaught of questions in that manner.

Finally he said again, "You're not to talk until that dressing comes off, not even if it feels as if you can. No exceptions, Aenna." I suspected he was being over-dramatic about it but nodded my agreement anyway.

I made a motion with my right hand of writing, and Tash said, "Yes. That's a good idea. Leiset will fetch you one of Kordos's teaching slates and a chalk, and you can write when you have to. For now, do you feel up to having some soup? You're pitifully thin and weak, and that makes it more difficult for your body to recover."

As was his delight, Tash took over the entire situation and began issuing orders to everyone. He spent the next two days hovering over me to ensure that I did not disobey him in any way.

Naturally, I wondered where Jarik was when I did not see him. At first I assumed that he had been ordered by Tash to keep away and let me rest. Then I worried that perhaps he felt badly about my having been injured and he was hiding miserably in his chamber.

Then as another day passed by without seeing him, I began to fret that he and Kurit had fought and perhaps that Kurit had sent him away. Of course, I did not know at that time that they had spoken at all, let alone what had been said.

That afternoon when Leiset sat with me after I had eaten, I wrote 'Where's Jarik?' on the slate.

Her face went noticeably pale, and she very nervously stammered, "Jarik? Jarik is... on a journey. He's not here."

A journey? I thought. Now? When I am ill? No, he would not go away willingly during such a time. I underlined the 'Where' on the slate.

"I don't know, Aenna. Don't fret. I'm sure in time you shall see him again. Just not right now."

Leiset refused to speak on the subject further. Her obvious discomfort and her vague words worried me greatly. I became convinced that Kurit and Jarik had fought and, as I had worried when we returned to Endren, that Kurit had sent him away or perhaps even banished him from Keshaerlan.

I tried asking Tash, but he told me not to trouble myself with anything other than my recovery. Then he, too, awkwardly stammered something about Jarik being out of the palace at the moment and left the room.

I decided I simply had to ask Kurit, for if my husband had been angry with Jarik, he ought to have been equally angry with me. When Kurit was next alone with me, I wrote the same question to him on the slate.

Kurit was better at controlling his face in times of stress than the others, but I knew him well enough to see the concern in his eyes at the question. He smiled at me nonetheless and said gently, "Don't worry about Jarik right now, my love."

I tapped the chalk on the slate and looked at him seriously.

Kurit took the chalk from my hand and set it aside with the slate. He then took my hand between his own and said, "Really, Aenna, you should be resting."

I pulled my hand out of his grasp and pointed to the slate.

Kurit sighed and after a quiet pause, said, "He's on a journey."

I knew that this couldn't be the entire truth after the way Leiset and Tash had spoken. I shook my head at Kurit and pointed to the board again.

"Aenna, this is not the time to talk about it."

I reached for the slate, and Kurit handed it to me, albeit reluctantly, and probably only because he knew I'd injure myself to get it if I had to. I wiped the question away and wrote, "Did you fight with him?"

Kurit's eyes closed for a moment, and he made the most awful sigh. My heart lurched in my chest in fear.

"No, Aenna. We didn't fight. Please, let's not do this. Not now. You need to get better."

As he spoke, I wiped the question away and wrote, "Did Kasha cut him with poison blade?"

Kurit looked confused and said, "No, she killed herself after stabbing you. I told you that."

Again I wiped and wrote, "Where is he? TRUTH."

He sighed again and asked quietly, "You're not going to stop asking are you?"

I shook my head. I had learned this annoying little trick from him and was pleased to watch it work just as well for me.

Kurit took the slate and chalk away again and picked up a cloth to wipe the dust from my hand. He didn't look at my face as he did so and seemed profoundly sad. My heart thumped heavily in fear.

"Aenna, I don't know how to tell you this. I wanted to wait until you were feeling better to talk to you about it."

Still not making eye contact with me, he sighed again, his body shivering with it in obvious sadness. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly several times. He then moved my hand to his chest and held it there. I could feel his heart pounding and his body trembling. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed again.

Then he looked at me and blurted, "He's dead, Aenna. Jarik's dead."

Everything stopped. My heart stopped in my chest. The sounds around us stopped. The flickering candles stood still. Everything around me ceased as my mind reeled.

I choked back a breath as my body realized I had stopped breathing. I told myself in a panic that I had not heard those words, that this was simply a nightmare, that I would wake soon and find that Jarik was at my bedside, watching over me as always.

But Kurit kept speaking, and I knew that I was awake. His words were too clear to be dream-speak.

"We thought that you were going to die. He was sure of it, and he felt that he had failed you. He couldn't bear to live in a world without you. He took the poignard that was to have killed you and went to the royal crypt. He removed his armour, laid himself upon his father's tomb, and..."

I shook my head vigorously, ignoring the pain in my shoulder from the movement. I wanted to beg him to tell me that it wasn't true, but even if I could have spoken my throat was locked. I felt panic, shock, and such horrific loss that my body began to shudder with silent sobs.

Kurit came right to me and put his arms around me, cradling me. He tried to calm me, begging me not to cry lest I damage my healing wounds, but I didn't care. He kissed my forehead and held me tightly to him, and he wept with me, rocking me slowly.

"He didn't know that you would live," Kurit said between his own sobs. "He put the blade into his own heart thinking that dying before you would restore his honour. Aenna, he loved you so much! I know how his heart broke to see you dying, because I felt as hopeless and lost as he did, but I could never be so brave. And I couldn't leave our son an orphan. But he loved you. I know he loved you, Aenna. Please, he would want you to live, so don't tear yourself apart now that you've finally begun to heal, please..."

Leiset or someone else must have seen or heard the commotion, because Tash was somehow alerted to it and ran into the room, asking what had happened.

For the first time in my life, I cared not who saw me weep. I had no concern for appearances of propriety or strength. This was too much. This was worse than any pain that Kurit had ever caused, because at least then I had had anger to strengthen me and Jarik to comfort me. But to think that Jarik was gone, that a good man had taken his life because of me—it was too much to bear. My mind cried out that it could not be true, that there must be a mistake, that surely he could never be dead. Not my beloved Champion. He was too strong to ever die.

I heard Tash bark at Kurit to ask why I was so distraught.

Kurit, still holding me, looked up at Tash to say, "It's Jarik. She knows about Jarik."

Tash tried to calm me, but I batted his hands away from me. I could not stand the thought of being comforted. There was no comfort. There was only loss and pain and guilt and a terrible longing to see my beloved Jarik's handsome face again. I ached to touch his cheek and see his loving eyes regard me happily. But in my mind, all I could see was the last image I had of him: terror as he watched me lose consciousness as a result of Kasha's vile poison.

Kasha! That evil, contemptible viper! my mind screamed. She caused this!

I began thrashing in fury and horror as Kurit and Tash tried to grab my flailing arms and keep me still.

Tash bellowed, "How did she learn of Jarik's death?"

"I told her!" Kurit cried above my now vocal sobs. My voice apparently did work, though it sounded hoarse and ugly with my pain.

"Why would you do such a foolish thing while she's still recovering?" Tash chastised.

"Because she kept asking, and I'm a weak-willed fool! Aenna, please! You can't do this to yourself!"

Kurit managed to pin both my wrists against my chest as he begged me further to calm down. But I could not. I wanted to go to Jarik's rooms and find that he was sitting there and that this was all a fiendish joke or hallucination.

Tash tried to get me to drink something to make me sleep, but I fought him off. I wrenched my hand out of Kurit's grasp and batted the cup away, sending it flying out of Tash's hands.

"Well, that's far enough, then," Tash grumbled. He grabbed a cloth and doused it with a pungent-smelling liquid. Then as Kurit pinned me again, Tash pushed the cloth against my face. I held my breath and struggled against them, but soon my body overruled me and inhaled. I felt immediately weak and could no longer fight them.

With only two more breaths, I fell into a miserable sleep.

### Chapter 26

WHEN I AWOKE, IT was the middle of the night. Leiset sat nearby, watching over me. My heart felt as though it were being crushed inside my chest when I recalled that Kurit had told me Jarik was dead.

No, I thought. It cannot be. Jarik is strong. He could never die. Not like that, not as Kurit said.

I closed my eyes again and reached out with my mind to the Gods in prayer that it was not true, that I had merely had a nightmare or perhaps a hallucination brought on my by illness.

I decided that I simply had to go to his room and find him. I would only need to look at him, and he would immediately wrap his strong arms around me. Then I would know that he was well, that I would soon be recovered, and that we would all be happy together.

Without a word or glance to Leiset, I sat up and swung my legs out of the bed.

"Aenna, what is it? What do you need? Lie down. I shall fetch whatever you need," she said as she rushed to me and put her gentle hands on my shoulders.

Despite her touch, I pushed myself up from the bed to stand. I whispered hoarsely, "I'm going to see Jarik," as I wobbled on my feet. My legs felt as though there were no bones in them.

Leiset made a sorrowful little sound and said, "Aenna, you must lie back down. Please."

I ignored her and took a few awkward steps, bracing myself against the post of the bed.

"Really, Aenna, do lie down. You shouldn't be up and about yet. And you shouldn't be speaking either."

I looked at her with all seriousness and croaked, "You can either help me get to Jarik's chambers or you can leave me to do it on my own, but don't try to stop me."

I slowly walked away from the bed, leaning on whatever I could as I went out of my bedchamber and into my receiving chamber. Leiset rushed ahead of me to block the door to the corridor. I glared at her.

She sighed sorrowfully and muttered, "This is madness. Tash will have my head."

"Tash needs to remember that he works for us and not the other way around. His care and concern is admirable, but his advice has turned to orders, and that has to stop," I said. Though my voice was rough from the injury to my throat, I knew I sounded very imperial.

Leiset opened the door and let me take her arm for support as I walked. We went out to the hall and turned to go towards Jarik's chambers, where I was sure that he slept, very much alive. Leiset whispered to one of the guards to fetch the King to Jarik's chambers quickly, but I ignored her. My only concern was to behold the face of my wonderful Champion, whom I loved and who loved me, who had saved my life and given me the strength to endure my troubles. I simply had to touch his face, to run my finger beneath his beard, to fall into his loving embrace.

I had never before realized how long the corridor of the south wing was. It seemed an eternity before we were finally at Jarik's door. I let go of Leiset's arm and opened the door without knocking. I knew that once I told Jarik of the nightmare I had had, he would understand why I would enter so abruptly. I knew that he would wrap his arms around me and tell me not to fret, for everything was perfectly fine, and he had simply been staying away that I might relax and grow healthy again.

Leiset rushed to light a lamp in the dark room. I called out to my Champion, but there was no answer.

I went to the bedchamber door and slowly pushed it open. I believed that he must simply be sleeping but knew that he would awake to the sound of my voice. Then he would rise and hold me, and my heart would not suffer this agony for another moment.

"Jarik? Jarik? Please be here," I wished aloud. Leiset held a lantern behind me as I walked into the bedchamber. "Jarik? Please tell me that it's all a terrible mistake, please..."

As Leiset entered with the lantern, I saw that there was no one in the bed. Jarik was not in the room. My hands begin to shake.

Then I noticed the black cloth hung over the mirror, which I knew to be a Kydren tradition to inform a dead person's spirit that they are being mourned and must no longer reside in this room.

The sight struck me as a blow to the chest, and I fell to my knees in physical and emotional agony. When finally I managed to suck back a breath, I began to sob loudly. As Leiset spoke to me in panicked tones, I crawled on my hands and knees back to the receiving room and pulled myself up onto the couch where my beloved Champion had once held me in comfort. My entire soul poured out as tears as I longed for him to return and hold me that way again.

Suddenly Kurit was beside me, putting a gentle arm around my sobbing shoulders. "Aenna? Aenna, my love, you shouldn't be up. Come, let me take you back to your room."

I shook my head as I wept, but I turned around enough to let him embrace me. His arms were loving and warm but could not replace Jarik's. I sobbed desperately into Kurit's shoulder.

I suppose I ought to have felt guilty, for there I was in my husband's arms, mourning another man whom I loved. So filled was I, though, with sorrow and heartache that there was no room for guilt as well. My only thought at the time was a prayer to bring my Champion back to me. My mind kept calling out, I want my Jarik back. Please, Jarik, come back to me.

After some time of sobbing, fatigue slowed my mourning down to a much quieter stream of tears. My head pounded so that I thought it might split open. I actually wished that it would.

Kurit pulled back and tried to lift my face towards his. I soon let him, but I could not look at his eyes. I was too ashamed of loving Jarik with such intensity.

Leiset handed Kurit a handkerchief. He gently dabbed my puffy and sore cheeks and then kissed my forehead.

"I know how much he meant to you," he said, his voice rough with sadness. "I loved him too. He was as a brother to me, my only friend and companion my whole life long. I know it hurts, and I feel the same emptiness at his loss that you do. But he didn't want this, Aenna. He wouldn't have wanted you to make yourself ill again weeping for him."

Tash burst into the room and began to chastise everyone in sight. I leaned to Kurit so that my mouth was near his ear, and I whispered, "Keep that ghoul away from me. I shall banish the next person who drugs me against my will."

Kurit kissed my cheek and rose from the couch, leaving me hunched over in mourning. He took Tash aside and quietly spoke with him. I could not hear what was said, and I didn't care. All I knew was that the most noble, kind, and wonderful man I'd ever known had taken his life because of me. A thousand ways that I could have prevented this tragedy entered my mind to torture me further.

I glanced up as I saw Tash step around Kurit to approach me. Kurit grabbed the physician's arm and declared, "If she's strong enough to walk here, she's strong enough to mourn. I'll take care of her."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head on the back of the couch. I heard Kurit ask Tash and Leiset to leave us alone and close the door behind them. He sat back down beside me and took my hand in his.

For a long time he said nothing; he simply sat by my side, and I was grateful for it. I thought about what he had said, that he had loved Jarik as well, and I grieved for his loss along with my own. It crossed my mind that such a thing might turn him back to his drunkenness, but, unable to deal with such a notion in that moment, I pushed the thought away.

My eyes still closed, I whispered, "Are you angry with me?"

Kurit caressed my cheek and replied, "No. Why would you think such a thing?"

After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked into his. He looked so pained, and I didn't know if it was because of my question or if he had borne that expression since finding me in Jarik's chambers.

Tears welled up in my eyes again as I said, "Because you must know that I loved him deeply."

"Oh, Aenna," he whispered sadly as he pulled me into his arms. He cradled me, stroking my hair softly. "I'm not angry with you at all. I know you would not have sought his embrace if I had been there for you, if I had not been causing you such grief. He told me that you were not unfaithful to me. He told me about your great pain, and how my foolishness wore away your independent resolve until you needed someone to be there for you. I'm actually thankful he was there."

He kissed my forehead. "I'll be honest with you," he continued. "Had it been any other man, I can't say that I could be so fair-minded. Not that I'd have been angry with you, though. I don't think I would have been, because I'd like to imagine that I would still have the sense to accept my own fault in all that has happened. But any other man who would take you into his heart in such a manner... I think that I would have been furious with him. I would have loathed any other man. But not Jarik, my cousin and friend. He may have been quite the scoundrel before we knew you, but I am all too aware of how abruptly his life changed when you entered it. He was never a man to steal the love of another.

"I think that I always knew that he loved you, but I ignored it. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings for you to consider his. I saw how he doted upon you, worried for you, and desperately wished to protect you from all harm. And he was my dearest friend. I suppose I couldn't bear to think that I was hurting him by having you when he did not.

"We spoke before he left, and I told him myself that I did not begrudge the love you shared, because I understand it. Perhaps if he had lived and in days to come I was to witness you being so emotionally close, I might have felt a hint of jealousy. I am human, after all. But I should like to think that I could trust both of you, had he lived."

I wondered how much Jarik had told him. I was not angry, for I suspected Jarik spoke only because he thought I was dying. But I wondered how much Kurit knew. I wondered if he knew that I had begged for Jarik to make love with me. I prayed that he did not and that he did not know how Jarik had brought me to ecstasy. I could not bear to have Kurit condemn me in that moment.

"I love you, Kurit. I love both of you. I know that's wrong, immoral—"

Kurit put his finger on my lips and gently said, "Hush. It's never immoral to love. I loved him too, albeit in a different way. Aenna, I know this is poor comfort right now, but I want you to know that you shall never have to turn to someone else for solace again. Not as long as I live." He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. "I swear it. I shall not let you down again. I want you to be able to count on me to hold you when your own strength isn't enough. Even if Jarik were alive and well, I would say this to you. Nothing can replace that good man in our lives, but I want you to understand that no man, living or dead, shall be needed to replace me again."

I began to cry again. Kurit held me and many times kissed my forehead.

As my tears began to grow quiet once more, Kurit unexpectedly chuckled softly. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at him in surprise.

Kurit smiled at me a little and said, "I'm sorry. I just find myself remembering the oddest little things from our childhood that I haven't thought about for years. I was just recalling the time when we went swimming in the lake at the cottage without permission and had swum across to the other shore, leaving our shoes and shirts on the main shore, and were chasing each other in the trees, so we didn't notice when our nurse came looking for us. She found our shoes and shirts at the edge, with no sign of us in the water, and she started shrieking, 'They've drowned! They've drowned! Somebody help!'

"We slipped quietly back into the water, and Jarik, the rascal, he went underwater and swam fast to the other side, surfacing quietly behind her, then crept up to her and tapped her shoulder as she wept hysterically. She turned, saw him, and screamed so loud that it echoed over the lake. Then she fainted dead away, and he stood there, dripping wet, with a mischievous grin upon his face."

I found that I was smiling incredulously. "Jarik did that?" I asked.

Kurit nodded and laughed, though his eyes were still sad. "You have no idea what a rascal he was before you inspired him to grow up. Oh, Aenna, I could tell you such stories you wouldn't believe."

"Tell me," I whispered. "It would help me to hear of him in happier days, even if he did deserve to have all privileges removed for at least a week for such a prank."

So Kurit began to tell me stories of jokes and mishaps and adventures the two boys had shared. We wept often as he spoke, but some of the stories were just too ridiculous to not inspire a laugh. My heart ached, but I did not feel as empty as I had before. Jarik's life had been cut brutally short, and for that I will always mourn, but his life had been a good one. I took what comfort I could from that.

Kurit spoke until the light of first dawn could be seen under the crack of Jarik's bedchamber door. My dear husband kissed my cheeks and forehead and then said, "I should take you to your bed."

He rose and lifted me up from the couch. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me to my bed. As he laid me there, he said, "You're as light as the air, Aenna. Please don't let this tragedy prevent you from getting well. When we thought you were dying, the people heard of what had happened and gathered all around the palace, singing lamentations, weeping pitifully, bearing flowers and candles in hope and prayer for your life. There are so many living people who love you and need you. Please don't let yourself waste away for one who is dead."

I nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

"Shall I stay with you here?" he asked.

I nodded again, and he slipped under the blankets with me. As I lay in my husband's arms, I saw again that last terrible image of Jarik's anguished face. Before I could begin to weep again, I forced myself instead to remember how my Champion had kissed me just before we arrived back home. Remembering his soul-lifting kiss gave me the peace I needed to finally sleep.

* * *

A few days later, when she thought I would be able to handle it, Leiset gave me the sealed letter that Jarik had asked her to put in my hand when I was dead. She wept as she handed it to me and then offered to leave me alone to read it.

"No," I said. "Stay with me. This is going to be awful. I can feel it already."

She sat beside me on the bed so she could read along with me. I broke open the seal and unfolded the letter. Just seeing Jarik's handwriting made my heart heavy. His words almost made me wish I had died after all:

To my dearest love Aenna,

These words come too late, as you are dying of a wound I should have prevented. I beg for your forgiveness in failing again to protect you from harm. Your life since knowing us has been filled with such strife and pain, and yet through most of it you remained strong and resilient, and I am so proud of you for that. My heart breaks to remember when your strength failed you, and although I am glad you lived through it and found some comfort in my arms, I cannot help but feel guilty for sentencing you to live only to meet such a gruesome end. But Kurit says that you embraced him, and I take some solace in knowing you and he were back on the path to love and happiness before this tragedy.

And oh, dearest love, it is a tragedy! Your name shall be sung by the bards throughout time as the Good Queen Aenna who loved her people and was strong for them. The people already weep for you as you are dying, and I do not doubt that the generation of daughters born in the next several years will be full of girls bearing your name, in your honour. Life shall go on for them without you, but already you are a woman of legend, and your story touches their hearts and inspires them.

But life cannot go on for me without you. Not only because I love you and my life would be empty, meaningless, and dark without your bright presence, but because it was ultimately my failing that led to this. I declared myself your Champion, yet I have repeatedly failed to protect you from harm. Now all of Keshaerlan pays the price of my folly.

I hold before me the blade that took your life. It has been cleaned of your blood and that of the cruel woman who committed this unspeakable crime against us. I shall use this very blade to take my own life, for it would be a great dishonour for your so-called Champion to live a moment longer than you. I know that if you were able, you would beg me not to take my life even as yours fades, but it is only right that I precede you into death. I pray that I may be more helpful to you in death than I have been in life. I shall wait on the path to the Everafter for you, and watch over you there in chaste love until it is Kurit's due time to join us.

I shall ask good Leiset to place this in your hand upon your mournful entombment, that your soul may be aware of its content and know to watch for me on the path.

I await you in love and sorrow,

Jarik

"By the Gods," I whispered as I dropped the letter and covered my face with my hands. I cried into my hands as Leiset put her gentle arms around me, weeping herself. "Oh, Leiset, if only he had waited a few days!"

"He still would not have forgiven himself," she said. "You know how guilt-stricken he was when he thought that it was his failure that led to your abduction. This time he was actually in the room. He may well have gone mad, had he lived."

That awful thought broke my heart all the more. "Still, had he lived..." I couldn't finish the sentence. The crushed possibilities were so many that I could not speak of merely one.

After some time of crying together, Leiset collected herself enough to say, "Aenna, I know this will not comfort you now, but I believe Jarik may have saved your life in his death."

"Whatever do you mean? How could that be? This has almost killed me itself!" I replied in anguish.

"I think perhaps his soul left his body and went into yours to strengthen you. I know it sounds foolish, but if you knew how close you seemed to death... Aenna, there's a part of me that truly believes Jarik gave you his soul, and he lives inside you now."

I tried to smile, but I could not believe the fanciful notion. "That's a pleasant concept," I said, trying to sound appreciative, "and one I wish I could believe, but if he is inside me I wouldn't feel such a dreadful emptiness when I think of him."

"You need to remember the good things about him," Leiset advised. "You need to hold your mind to the times when he made you smile."

I nodded. "I know. When I remember him laughing, rare though that was, or the joviality of his spirit in teaching me to dance so long ago, those things make me smile. But more often I remember that look on his face when he was concerned for me, that tender look of worry coupled with helplessness when he was at a loss as to how to make things better for me. I remember how dearly he cared for me, and how that adoration cost him his life, and I feel responsible."

"It would break his heart to know you feel that way."

"I know," I said, my chin trembling as I tried not to cry again. "That makes it worse, knowing that I am probably making his spirit miserable, if he does indeed watch me from the Everafter."

"You must stop this cycle of guilt, Aenna. You ought to speak to him."

"To whom?" I asked, confused.

"To Jarik. You ought to close your eyes and imagine that he is here, for he just may be, and you should tell him how you hurt for him. Imagine him comforting you. Imagine the things you know that he would say if he could put his arms around you. For somewhere, be it within you or on the path to the Everafter, this man who died loving you loves you still, and you must know he is reaching to you in comfort as much as he can."

She got up from the bed and said, "Speak to him now. You know he can hear you. I shall make sure no one interrupts you." Leiset locked the door to Kurit's bedroom, then went into my receiving room and closed the door behind her.

I turned onto my right side and pulled a pillow towards me. The very idea of speaking to him seemed absurd, but now that Leiset had suggested it, I found that I very much wanted to do so. Still, I felt so silly at the thought that I just remained in silence for a few minutes.

Then I picked up Jarik's letter and read it again. I savoured every word, gazed over every letter that his hand had written. I ran my fingers gently across it, my heart aching to know that this was the last thing he would ever write. I began to weep again when I considered how awful the poor man had felt when he died.

"Jarik," I called out softly as I clung to a pillow, letting it catch my tears. "Jarik, where are you now?" I asked. It felt foolish to speak aloud, and I was embarrassed even though no one was there. So instead I spoke silently from my mind, asking, Are you thinking of me? Can you see me? Can you feel my tears? By the Gods, Jarik, I am sorry! I know this must be torture for you, to see that your death has hurt me so and not be able to hold me. I know you did not wish to hurt me. I love you for being so noble, but why did you do this?

I sobbed into the pillow, but as I did so I began to feel angry. "Why did you do this?" I asked aloud miserably, then furiously cried out, "How could you leave me like this? You promised you'd always be there for me!"

I heard my own words and was stricken with guilt for having uttered them. He died so that he could be there for me, and there I was condemning him for his ultimate act of sacrifice.

My cursed mind then wondered if it had been painful for him. I remembered the gory horror of Kasha's death. Jarik had taken his life in the same way. Had he gagged on his blood as he died? The very thought made me scream into my pillow for him. To suffer so, and all in vain!

I banished such thoughts from my head by looking again at his letter, tracing some of the words with my fingers. "Oh, Jarik," I whispered, "you shouldn't have done this." Silently I continued, Perhaps it was an error to turn your back on Kasha, but you are human, and people make mistakes! I would never have condemned you for this. I love you so much, my sweet Champion. Why must you judge yourself so harshly? Nobody else does. Keshaerlan is a weaker nation without you, my love.

"My Jarik."

I cuddled the pillow as though it were him with me, as he had held me in bed at the cottage. For a moment, I almost felt his arms around me. I could almost feel his warmth, catch his scent, and hear his breath. Then the brief sensation passed, and I wept alone.

* * *

Though I still cried for him in the days thereafter, it was more because I missed him than out of depression. By the end of the month of mourning, I was even able to speak of him at times without shedding tears.

After the mourning period, Kurit took on the task of collecting Jarik's things and cleaning out his chambers. I offered to help, but I was still weak at times, and Kurit wouldn't hear of it. I think perhaps he also wished to be alone in his cousin's chambers, to say goodbye in his own way.

Late in the day, Kurit came to my receiving chamber where I sat quietly alone with my thoughts. I could tell that he had been weeping, and I smiled sadly at him. He sat beside me and held me after setting a small box upon the table nearby.

Eventually I asked, "What is in the box?"

Kurit pulled out of the embrace, kissing my cheek softly as he went. "It is something I found in Jarik's drawer. I think..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and he gulped to continue speaking. "I think you may wish to keep it as a memory of him."

Kurit reached to the table and handed the small wooden box to me. It had a small brass latch, but there was no lock upon it. I lifted the latch and gently pulled open the hinged lid.

There, lying couched in deep blue velvet, was a dried flower with a green hair ribbon tied around it. My breath was knocked from me as I realized it was the silly little "prize" I had given Jarik on my wedding day when he won the right to be my Champion. This great warrior, a strong man of armour and weapons, had tenderly preserved and kept my little gift.

"I can't believe he kept it," Kurit said. "He was always so unconcerned with mementos and such frivolities. He didn't even save the love letters that he received from the women he bedded. I remember him telling me once that all objects lose their meaning once the moment attached to them has passed."

"And yet, he kept my silly little gift as though it was his most prized possession," I said through my tears.

Kurit whispered in a voice rough with sadness, "Probably because it was, because the moment never passed."

### Chapter 27

TODAY AS I FINISH these writings, I have beside me on my desk Jarik's box with the flower and ribbon. I do not open the box often these days, as I fear the flower shall turn to dust if I let the air at it too much. But I keep the box near me a great deal and frequently wonder how often Jarik opened it. Did he look at that flower every night? Or perhaps only when he particularly longed for me? Or when he was sad for my pains?

It has been four years since he died. There has not been a day gone by that I have not thought of him at least once. I know it sounds self-centred, but I wish that I could tell him of every little part of my day. I want him to know when I laugh and when I weep. Sometimes I believe that he does, but mostly I feel only his absence.

Though I recovered from the stabbing and poisoning, the illness and possibly the ensuing sadness have left me physically weaker than I once was. I surely could not carry trays full of ale in a crowded inn today. My left arm does not function properly. I can move it but can lift it no higher than almost parallel to the ground. My left hand is quite weak, and I learned quickly that it was unwise to trust it to carry anything that might break.

The scar of Kasha's blade is a line over the scar that was already there from the crossbow bolt, so long ago. I also of course have a small, sunken scar on my lower throat, though I can speak and eat perfectly well. All my dresses cover my scars, and Kurit kindly pretends he does not see them when I am naked in his arms.

We re-initiated our intimacy several months after Jarik's death. I shall never forget that night. Kurit had Leiset find the nightdress I had worn on our wedding night. I put it on, knowing something romantic was afoot. Sure enough, when he came to my bedchamber, he bade me close my eyes as he led me into his.

When he said that I could open them, I did so and found that he had lit candles all over his room, just as he had at the cottage on our wedding night. I was moved to tears by the gesture—tears which he gently kissed away before kissing my lips tenderly and taking me to his bed.

We have shared a bed almost every night since and made love quite often. Of course, our renewed intimacy has led to the births of our other two children.

Raelik, now seven years of age, must have been affected in his young life by the tragic events around him, for although he is bright and usually cheery, at times he becomes pensive and worries a great deal about the people that matter to him. He is very sensitive to arguments, and though he has the wit to hold his own in a debate, the process wears him down and it is clear he'd rather avoid confrontation. Kurit says he's like his grandfather in that.

Our red-haired little daughter Kaelinna is now three years old and very much the opposite of her older brother. She is a fiery child—neither mean nor cruel, I have seen to that, but she has a terrible temper. For such a small child, she has an amazing sense of order and efficiency and so regularly reorganizes her toys that her nurse has rarely had to clean up after her. She becomes indignant at disorder, and I worry that she is not enough of a child to enjoy life before it is time to really worry about such things. She is extremely overprotective of Raelik, stamping her little feet when she sees him in one of his sombre moods. She has no time for cuddling and other parental affections, yet she has an acute need for approval from her parents.

Then there is you, little Jarik, for whom I write this tale. You're only now beginning to walk your first steps, and already you are so like the man for whom you were named. You have a sweet little smile and such strong little arms. I worry that you'll pull yourself up over a wall if I turn my back on you for a moment! And you cannot stand to see me upset for any reason. Oh, how you howled your little heart out when I stumbled from fatigue last month and twisted my ankle!

Seeing you like that, my little son, I suspect even further that Leiset's fanciful notion of my Champion's soul living on in me must be wrong, for some part of him clearly lives in you. I see his love in your eyes, and at times I am moved to tears by it. I know, however, that I must learn to control this, for it makes you cry yourself, and that breaks my heart.

When we registered your name with the palace scribes, I was horrified to learn that the only official record of my Champion was a birth record, the date he was sent to live in the palace, and the date and cause of his death. There was no mention of what a wonderful human being he was, how he touched so many lives with his kindness and devotion to his principles. There was not even mention of him as my Champion—an oversight that had me in a foul temper indeed. I could not bear the idea that you might not know that you are in this world because this good man saved my life and soul.

I hope to tell you these things when you are old enough to understand them, that Jarik's story may inspire you to reach for nobility in your own life and inspire your brother and sister as well. But I cannot take the chance that I might not live long enough to do so. There is no way to tell how damaged I am beneath the surface, nor whether or not my persistent fatigue and weakness is the only long term effect of the poisoning, nor if I might die an early death because of a future complication.

So, my dear son Jarik, I write this to you, that you will know the full story of the man after whom you are named. I have endeavoured to write without bias and sincerely hope my blunt honesty in both the sensual and tragic parts of the tale do not offend you. I wanted to be forthright in everything so you would understand what motivated us in our choices, even if many of those choices were ill-made. I suspect reading of your mother's desires may be difficult, but I thought it necessary that you understand that I foolishly let those desires dictate my behaviour.

I also hope you do not condemn your father for his early failings, for he has never once to my knowledge gone back on his words of love and promise. I have learned that he prayed to the Gods when he thought me to be dying. He bargained that if I lived, he would never ingest so much as a drop of alcohol for the rest of his life. When a new servant unwittingly poured wine in his dinner cup last year and he inadvertently put it to his lips, he stood quickly in horror, dropping the cup and its contents on the table.

Kurit was furious, though he had not actually taken any of the drink into his mouth. For weeks after, he followed me around at every moment, desperately afraid that the Gods would punish him by having me drop dead or be snatched away again.

He has worked very hard to be an honourable man in all things, and he has, in my opinion, succeeded. He is a good husband, father, and King, and if the people ever knew of his transgressions they seem not to care. In time, I told him further details of what had happened between Jarik and I, including how my Champion had brought me to ecstasy by the lake. He was upset that Jarik had spoken around that incident in their last conversation, and he was jealous for a time that Jarik had indeed pleased me. But he did not throw a fit, nor did he utter harsh words at me. He soon let the matter fall into the past, where it belongs.

Also in time and despite my protests, Kurit demanded that I be assigned a new Champion. A tournament was held, but I could not bear to attend. This time, being a little older and more skilled, the young man who had come to blows with Jarik for the title won the tournament. Kurit brought Zajen to me, and the good fellow knelt before me abjectly. He apologized to me, and when I asked what he was sorry for, he explained that he knew I still mourned the loss of the great warrior Jarik who had been my Champion and that he knew also I had not wanted a replacement.

His head bowed, Zajen told me that he revered me and respected my feelings in this. He offered to not take the title of Queen's Champion, but to serve without title to protect me from harm, if I approved.

I told him that the title was rightly his, and his kindness warmed my heart. I asked only that he understand that I myself could not use the word Champion to mean anyone other than Jarik. He nodded and thanked me.

Since then, he has proven himself to be worthy of the title, though I still do not speak it myself. He is as watchful and attentive as Jarik ever was, though he keeps a respectful emotional distance. I have found him to be a very good and kind man. Though I often feel guilty for not calling him by his rightful title or even allowing him to be a close friend, I know that it is best to not push myself into acts and emotions that would undoubtedly cause me pain. Furthermore, I am fairly certain that Zajen is happiest knowing that he serves well and without causing me heartache.

When the weather is suitable and I am feeling well, Zajen escorts me to the marketplace. I often bring Raelik with me, that he might maintain a connection with the people outside of the palace. That is still of great importance to me. Though the marketplace in and of itself has not cured all poverty in Endren, it is a modest economic success, and Cael is already planning a similar project in Staelorn.

Though my life is now a happy one, with a loving husband and three wonderful children, I still feel an empty space where Jarik ought to be. I have not stopped loving him, nor do I imagine that I ever shall. I muse often on how bards sing of great loves between two people and never sing of love between three. For I know now that I loved both Jarik and Kurit equally, and I still do. I know also that they both love me, and, despite the terrible words exchanged in those unpleasant times, I know they loved each other as well.

I often grow wistful when I think of Jarik and miss him. I have observed the same at times in Kurit's eyes as well. I have many times pondered why it is that love is said to be the most wonderful emotion, yet the sorrows of adoration are the deepest pains that one can experience.

But then when I see the joy in my children's eyes, or feel the warm embrace of my beloved Kurit, I understand that these sorrows run so deep because they are so far removed from and yet entwined with the elation of love.

Though I shall never fully recover from the pain of losing my beloved Champion, I know that some part of him lives on. It is in you, my son. You shall grow to be your own man, but a piece of your heart was once part of the soul of another, and he lives with your every breath.

I know in my heart that the rest of Jarik's soul stands on the path to the Everafter, watching over me as attentively as he ever did whilst alive. I pray nightly that when it is my time to join him there, I shall be allowed to fall into his loving arms. And when Kurit joins us as well, I pray that we might all shed the constrictions of social bonds and propriety and all exist freely in love and delight with one another for all of eternity.

~ The End ~

### Special Thanks

To Richard McAteer and Tim Chew for their help and advice regarding armour and weaponry;

To Margaret Plumbo and www.parentsplace.com for information on childbirth and the early days of an infant's life;

To Dr. Ian Davis for medical information on tracheotomies;

To the denizens of rec.humor.oracle.d and alt.pub.kacees for their interest and support back in the days of usenet when this was first published;

To Susan Kerbel, Anne Kerbel, Matt Kerbel, and Corran Webster for reading the manuscript and giving me their honest opinions about the story as well as finding embarrassing typos;

To Nathalie Moore, who designed the cover for the original printing and graciously gave me rights to reuse it before she passed away;

And to my excellent editor Karen Babcock for her work on this when it was originally published and for reformatting it for this re-release.

### Jason Truitt has wealth and power but for over a century hasn't been able to locate the one woman he believes shares his immortality. Unsure of her real name, he thinks of her as Gaia because of her ability to grow plants by thought alone. Finding her, however, is only the beginning: decades of loss, isolation, abduction, and unspeakable torture have left her unsure of who, what, or when she is. Read their story:

### Finding Gaia

### Chapter 1

"THANK YOU, JUDY," Jason said as his secretary set the tea tray on his desk and left the room.

He put his digital reader down and rubbed his eyes. He missed real paper, but he'd been much advised years before that it simply didn't do for the owner of one of the world's largest environmental conglomerates to be seen reading newspapers and magazines anymore. Thus, he'd instituted a company-wide policy against printed reports and distributed the readers to all staff; true comfort came only at home every evening when he indulged in the texture and scent of his old books.

He picked up his cup and sipped without prior inspection, knowing Judy would have made it to his exacting specifications. When he'd insisted on putting "Must be able to make a proper cup of tea" in the job description after Mrs. Carron had retired the previous year, Trish had told him it was sexist. He'd argued that what was sexist was Victorian ladies stealing the idea of manly tea away by wrapping it in lace and putting ridiculously small sandwiches on the side. He told Trish it always took far too long to train Americans on how to make it right, and he didn't want to have to go through it all again. He also said he didn't care if a man got the job so long as he could take care of the myriad tasks required of a modern secretary and get the damned tea made as well.

Jason leaned back in his chair with a smug little grin. He liked it when he was right and Trish was wrong. Judy had worked out perfectly, as did the tea, and life was as good as could be expected.

On his third sip, his office door burst open. The shock would have made most spill their tea, but Jason's hands had acquired unnatural steadiness over the centuries.

"Bloody hell, Don," he muttered. "It's 3:34."

"Jason! You won't believe it!"

"I believe that it is tea time and you ought to know better."

Don shut the door behind him and hurried to Jason's desk, where he plopped his old, beloved workhorse computer down as he asked, "Better about what?"

Jason pointed to the clock.

Don looked at it in confusion for a moment and then shook his head. "This is better than tea time. I've found her! I think."

Jason glared. "Trish? She's back from her meeting and in her office. Go bother her there. Leave me alone until 3:45."

Don pulled a chair up. "No, not Trish. Gaia."

That name did make Jason's hands shake for a second. He set his tea down. "That's not a subject to be joked about," he said darkly.

"When have I ever told a joke at work? Successfully?"

Jason continued to glare at him, but the scientist paid no heed to his wrath, as was often the case. He kept tapping at his keyboard frenetically while explaining, "I was going over some stuff from one of the west coast biotech labs, and something was not right, so I checked it out and..." Don trailed off mid-thought, which also happened frequently.

"Don," Jason prompted.

"What? Right, sorry. I'm still piecing it together, but I think I've found her, or someone like her, or something. I'm not sure. Well, sure enough to come tell you but not sure enough to be really sure."

Jason closed his eyes and sighed. He tried not to think about Gaia at work, despite having named Gaia Global after her. He preferred to do his brooding over her at home, something both Don and Trish knew quite well, yet here Don sat pestering him.

"Hamdon BioTech needed my override for some equipment they wanted for..." Don looked over his computer at Jason's annoyed expression. "Right, sorry, you don't need those details. They've got her."

"What do you mean, 'got her'?"

"Uh..."

"I need more details than that, Don, even if I don't require the minutia of what captured your attention."

"Sorry. Hang on." He tapped for a few seconds more while Jason pushed his tea aside and folded his hands on the desk patiently.

"Here," Don said as he turned his computer around.

Jason looked at the screen. "Paraquat? Why is that name familiar?"

"It's a very powerful herbicide. It kills photosynthetic material on contact. Nasty stuff."

"The one we can't beat with our organic line or get the Third World weaned off?"

"Yeah. It's 'restricted use' here, which means you can't just go down to the hardware store to pick some up. They've been ordering tons of the stuff on the sly because they don't have a license for it."

"Do they have a reason to use it?"

Don looked at him as if he were insane. "They're biotech."

"Right, so could they be—"

"Using it in some kind of experiment? No, not based on what I know of what they're researching, and we own sixty percent of them so they shouldn't be researching anything without us knowing about it."

"Okay, how does that lead to you coming in here going on about Gaia?"

"Because I thought, 'Shit, if they don't have a license, they probably don't have the proper storage facility,' since they could probably get a license if they did. And if they don't have the proper storage facility or licensing, our lab could be on the hook for any legal issues, and I don't want feds giving us a hard time, so I looked up their building specs, and that's when I found this," he said as he brought up a window that displayed a building schematic.

"What am I looking at?"

"There's a hole in their building."

"A hole?"

Don pointed to the screen. "This corridor goes to an elevator shaft, but there's no listed elevator."

"Okay."

"So I looked up elevator licensing records, even though it's not on their official floor plan. They do in fact have an inspection record for a one-hundred-ninety-foot elevator. But they only got it once when it was first built, and it's expired."

"Wait. One hundred ninety feet?"

"Yeah, I know—weird, huh? It looks like they hired a mining company to do some unspecified work just before that, so I'm guessing they're the ones who dug it. According to the licensing information it only stops at the top and bottom."

"What the hell are they doing down there?"

"I researched what that depth could mean, were they maybe after the water table or something geological or what. They've got aquifers around but not close enough for that to be the explanation. That depth gets them to bedrock, I think, but what's more interesting is it turns out that it's significantly further down than any root system outside of a handful of desert trees that wouldn't grow there anyway."

Jason's jaw dropped.

Don nodded at him.

"They're keeping vegetation away from someone down there," Jason whispered.

"Seems like it."

"Oh god, they've got her down there." His heart pounded.

"I don't know for sure, but when that popped into my head I went through a bunch of other purchasing records—"

"How long have you been looking into this?"

"Couple of days. I didn't want to tell you until I had something more definite. Anyway, they're also purchasing pre-made meals from a catering company with a bunch of weird specifications that amount to no raw fruit or vegetables. In fact, they're using some kind of nasty-sounding vegetable substitute paste stuff along with processed chicken meat for the most part. I did some calculations, and based on their ordering, it's probably about enough for one or two people a day going back almost ten years."

"Good god."

"Then I carefully went through their project list, and I found this buried in another list where it totally didn't belong. This clinches it," Don said, flipping to yet another window.

Jason read aloud, "'In an attempt to isolate the Elementum Curans, the blood product will be subjected to the following examinations.' That's Latin for 'healing component'."

Don sat back in his chair. "They're trying to figure out how someone heals quickly like you do, and they're trying to replicate it."

"It's got to be her."

"Or someone like her. It stands to reason that if there are two of you, there could be more."

"Either way, I want to meet them, and if Hamdon BioTech has anyone locked up underground against their will I want it stopped."

As Jason began to reach for his phone, Don exclaimed, "Whoa! Whoa! You can't just call them!"

"I was going to call Trish in here."

"Oh. Yeah. Do that."

When Trish entered a few minutes later, she shut the door roughly, crossed her arms, and barked, "How come he's allowed in here during your precious tea time? You snark on my ass if I come to your office during tea time."

Jason replied, "Because he found Gaia."

"Possibly," Don clarified.

Trish blinked at them and then said in a loud whisper, "You can't be serious!"

"I'm always serious about Gaia," Jason said.

They showed her Don's research, but she was immediately skeptical. "Okay, so you've found a bunch of crap that might mean something, but it doesn't mean she or anyone else is down there. You've got no evidence that any of these things are related."

"It's not a big company," Don protested. "They've got three lead researchers, one of whom they just hired and has been churning out plenty of work on the projects they're supposed to be doing. But look at this Dr. Noreen Steele: she's got a brilliant CV except for these repeated ethics violations."

"What's she done?" Jason asked.

"Looks like a string of improperly filed requests to use human test subjects, some violations on how she had people sign disclaimers, and..." Don read for a moment before adding, "and a couple of accusations of not obtaining proper informed consent, but those weren't substantiated enough to do anything but note them."

"There's a long stretch between not getting your paperwork done right and locking someone in a basement for years," Trish said.

"Not necessarily," Don said bitterly. "Some of us take care to do things properly because it matters in the validity of the end results. Also, she had a fairly consistent pattern of her own publication credits for years, then there's a big gap that coincides with a reference in a later publication that's been redacted. Since then, she's only cited as an adjunct on stuff published by the other two Hamdon leads."

"So what, one redacted thing, and you think she's doing secret military work?" Trish scoffed. "More likely she took time off to vacation or party or something and then just got boring."

Don replied, "The gap was a year and a half. Most scientists don't like to interrupt their research that long."

"By 'most' you mean you. Just because you'd never backpack and party your way through Euro-clubs doesn't mean she didn't. Or, duh, maternity leave?"

"She's officially single with no kids. And don't tell me someone with this CV is content playing second fiddle to her colleagues for the remainder of her career. She's doing something she doesn't want publicly noticed."

Trish gave him a conciliatory shrug.

"Regardless of Dr. Steele's personal life, there's enough weirdness at Hamdon for me to want to know what's going," Jason said, "even if they don't have anyone locked up."

"So phone them and ask," Trish replied. "You own enough of the company to warrant sticking your nose into their business."

"And if they are up to something nasty, they'll cover it up if he comes poking around," Don warned.

"Not everybody thinks like an evil scientist," Trish said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not evil," Don said defensively, clearly still annoyed at her previous assertion about ethics.

Trish sighed. "Yeah, I know, sorry. Mostly." She smiled at him, but he'd already turned back to his computer and didn't notice.

"You could get me a look in there," Jason said to Trish.

"Well, yeah, but if you want to talk ethics, hacking into their video security system isn't exactly playing nicey-nice. Besides, you're supposed to be my role model for going straight."

"My role in that regard has been over for some time. Can you at least find out if there's a camera down that shaft?"

Trish narrowed her eyes at him but then rolled them and sighed. "Fine, but only because that sounds more entertaining than what I was doing anyway. Be right back." She left his office and returned a short time later with her own computer. She set herself up at a table in the corner and began typing as earnestly as Don, who was still tracking down links and occasionally citing more potential evidence.

While his closest friends worked, Jason sat back once more in his chair, his hands clasped and index fingers bumping lightly on his mouth. Two years ago he thought he'd found Gaia after Don had put some other elements together: an Oregon Department of Environmental Quality report of unexplained, out-of-season plant growth in what was supposed to be a protected area, plus satellite photos of what appeared to be a small shack nearby. The government investigation had concluded a nearby illegal logging operation had been using some kind of unknown, undetectable chemical element to spur tree growth and it had gotten out of their control. But Jason, Don, and Trish all knew Gaia could make plants grow as if by magic, and they'd surmised she might have been trying to erect a barrier against incursion by the loggers.

By the time this information had come to them and they'd gone to the site of the shack, however, it had been severely damaged and appeared to have been abandoned several years before. Jason suspected that something terrible had happened to Gaia, since the area had strange, twisted growths, and the wrecked state of the shack looked to him as if violence had occurred. Plus, he'd found an overturned box of trinkets and mementos that had no apparent value, which led to the conclusion that they were sentimental items and thus not something anyone would willingly leave behind.

"Okay," said Trish. "I'm in their system, mostly because they've been stupid and are using default settings. If they have a camera that looks at that elevator or what's down in the hole, it's not on here."

"Damn," Jason said.

Trish closed her computer. "I think we should continue this at home. It's going to be time to go soon anyway, and if we head out early we'll avoid some of the traffic. That way we can poke around before Henriika has dinner on the table, and she won't tell us off for letting it get cold while we 'do ze dilly-dally viss ze compoota'."

"Fine," Jason said. "We can speak more freely there anyway."

"Well, it's not like your office is bugged," Trish said. "I did sweep it last month, and you're not that intriguing to most people."

"I know, but when this topic comes up, I worry about someone coming in. It's best to avoid questions." He grabbed his keys from his desk as he rose.

"I'll drive," Trish said.

"No, I came in my own car today," Jason said with an edge to his tone.

"I know, but you shouldn't drive when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"You know, distracted."

"I'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Gee, I don't know," Trish said with her hands on her hips. "Maybe you could get into a car accident and a hundred people around you with cell phone cameras could watch your splattered guts heal up in a matter of minutes. That'd put an end to your big fat hairy secret pretty fast and make you a lot more intriguing, wouldn't it? Then again, that'd make it more plausible for you to walk on into Hamdon's lab and demand—"

"Fine, fine, point taken. I'll go with you if you'll shut up about it."

Trish grinned at him. Then she went to Don, patted him on the back, and said, "Come on, doc, you can keep reading in the car as always."

"Hmm?" Don said, not taking his eyes off his screen as he picked up the computer and followed Jason and Trish down to the garage.

* * *

As Trish and Don set themselves up at their respective desks in the parlour, Jason picked up a small remote from the end table beside his favourite chair. He clicked it, and the house-wide music system Trish had built for him as a Christmas gift several years before powered up. It was automatically set to a large mix of his preferred classical music—a term he found amusing since he'd attended the London debut performances of several of the songs in his collection.

The first song that came up was Chopin's "Minute Waltz", the opening notes of which made him frown. He was not in the mood for a waltz, even a brief one. He pressed the skip button and peered at the small screen. It read, "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Symphony No. 13 In F Major, K. 112: II. Andante". Mozart always settled his mind. He'd often wondered if it was a mystical power of the mad genius, perhaps not unlike his own strange abilities.

Jason regretted never having taken the time to travel to try to meet the great composer. Then again, some of the notable figures of history he had known were far less impressive than their stories would later indicate. Perhaps he would have been disillusioned by Mozart as well.

He set the remote down and eased into his chair, feeling useless as he watched the other two tap away. Usually he read while they were on their computers, but his mind was too scattered to focus on words on a page.

Gaia: the only other person he'd ever known to have a healing power like his own, and he'd never even spoken with her. It wasn't her real name, but he didn't know what that was. After he'd first seen her and accidentally witnessed her arm heal from a terrible wound in seconds, he'd learned she was Lady Rose Davidson, a well-to-do London socialite who owned a fashionable boutique. But by the time he'd worked up the nerve to visit her, she'd sold her home and business, set up a trust fund for a girls' school, and disappeared. That was in 1899.

He'd done his best to trace her history through the shop's ownership documents filed in the dusty, bureaucratic halls of the British government. It seemed that, like him, she'd changed her identity from time to time when the decades failed to age her appropriately. She might have been known as Anna Yale, the cousin of Rose Davidson, and before that an aunt named Flora Yale who maintained the London shop from various addresses in Scotland, and before that another aunt named Melantha Yale. The latter founded the shop in 1775, so his trail ended there.

In 1775 he'd been Jason Caldwell III, hiding out on the continent intermittently to avoid being drawn into the war in America. He'd still enjoyed battle at the time but had no desire to go beyond France for it, and another skirmish with France was always on the horizon back then. He'd also been doing what he suspected Flora had done: maintaining an estate from afar so he could return as a relative who looked astonishingly like one from a previous generation who had died unseen abroad. It was tedious, but it was the best strategy to avoid questions.

When Rose Davidson left England, she appeared to have left that name behind too. He found hints of her being called Anna again as she went through Europe on her way to India. He had not known what name to use for her until he discovered her amazing ability to make plants grow. They had called her Annapurna in India, but his love of Greek mythology inspired him to think of her as Gaia. Lovelock's Gaia Hypothesis several decades later made it seem all the more apropos, as Jason had become fully engaged in environmental research and industry by that time, in no small part as an attempt to get her attention.

It hadn't worked. He'd grown ever more wealthy and done much toward his other goal of keeping a world he'd likely have to live in forever clean and tolerable, but his persistent dream of Gaia showing up one day to applaud his efforts had never come to pass. He had no reason to believe she'd ever heard of him, and since he'd kept his immortality and other nefarious power so well hidden, he really had no reason to expect her to appear.

Ah, his other power. No growing flowers and food for him. What Gaia could give, he could only take. He looked at his hands, and his heart sank as dark memories began to surface.

Quickly, he clenched his fists and stuffed them between his legs and the chair's arms. He'd done that so many times over the years that they slid into perfectly fitted indentations.

In an effort to keep memories at bay, he looked back and forth at Trish and Don some more.

Trish was fairly slim and quite attractive. She often referred to herself as a "nerd goddess" since she was a hacker-turned-CTO but could have easily pulled off any career where being pretty counted—though Jason pitied anyone who was foolish enough to suggest that to her. She kept her dark hair short less for style purposes and more to not have to fuss with it unless she felt like it.

Don, by contrast, was entirely average to look at: a round face with plain glasses beneath a receding line of sandy-blond, short, always-askew hair. He wasn't obese, but he was comfortably soft from so many years spent sitting in labs or behind computers. His warm smile and slightly rumpled clothes gave away exactly what he was: a kind, gentle, friendly scientist.

The two of them were as close to him as anyone had ever been. His cook and his housekeeper knew there was something odd and secretive about him, but as befitted loyal and well-paid servants, they kept their noses out of his business. It was only Trish and Don he trusted with the secret of who and what he was. Well, not entirely what he was. He had admitted to Trish that he had been a monster in his past, but even she had no idea to what dark depths he'd taken his power. And even though both of them shared his excitement at potentially finding another of his kind—if indeed he was a kind of anything—they could not possibly fathom the depth of his need to no longer go through a potentially endless future alone.

As Jason sat letting his heart grow heavy with such thoughts, Don suddenly winced and said, "Oh crap, that's not good."

"What?" asked Trish.

"Uh... yuck." Don groaned as he appeared to be battling between reading further and squirming away from the text.

"What?" Trish repeated.

Don looked at Jason apologetically. "Don't get mad at me, but I think we need to re-evaluate the wisdom of setting whatever's down there free."

"I believe you mean 'whomever'," Jason said in a dark tone.

"Just tell us what you found already, sheesh," Trish complained.

"Two years ago, Dr. Steele sent out an urgent memo out that anyone working on her 'special project' was now under severe food restrictions while at work, which pretty much come down to not eating anything that can last in the stomach for any time as a viable seed or plant material. I can't find any other internal notes or memos about it, but it does coincide with the reported disappearance of one of the lab assistants, Yuko Hansuke.

"The local paper says her roommate reported her missing when she didn't come home, and Dr. Steele told police Hansuke was feeling ill and left early, which her passcard record confirmed. An article two days later says her car was found just off of I-90 near North Bend, and then a couple of months later her decomposed body was found downstream in the Snoqualmie River."

"So, what, you think Dr. Steele killed her?" Trish asked.

"No, he thinks Gaia did," Jason said.

"What? Why? How?" Trish asked, but even as she spoke the words it was clear by her horrified expression that she'd gleaned the answer.

Don explained, "If Gaia can make anything grow, then it's reasonable to assume she can do so even if the source material is currently inside—"

"Oh my god, don't say it! I just lost my appetite for a week!"

Don nodded. "Maybe Steele dumped the body to avoid questions that would expose her ugly little secret project. Gaia might have a level of power that we'd never considered before."

"You have absolutely no evidence that she even knew she was hurting someone," Jason said defensively. "You know very well I can sense familiar people far away, even behind walls, and unfamiliar but emotionally charged people at a distance. Maybe she can sense plants the same way, which is why they've got her so far down in the first place, and if someone came down the elevator having just eaten—"

"Please," Trish said.

Jason paused and then rephrased his argument. "If someone brought vegetation down the elevator, it could be that Gaia sensed it, locked on to it, and started trying to use it to get herself out of there. That's a perfectly rational reaction to captivity. If someone had me locked up you'd better believe I'd grab at any chance for escape despite how I feel about killing."

"The thing is, Jason," Trish said carefully, "you feel that way because you made a decision not to be a solider anymore. We don't know anything about Gaia, really, including how she feels about killing us mortal types."

"She killed some people in India," Don reminded him.

"No," Jason retorted but then admitted, "not intentionally, not like a murderer. She defended herself and others. Let's clarify that right now, shall we?"

He rose, hurried down the little stairs into the ballroom and then up the matching ones opposite, and whisked past the pool table and through the arch into the gallery. He grabbed a key from on top of a cabinet, unlocked the glass door, and withdrew a battered old journal from a stack of books.

He strode back through the rooms until he found Don and Trish tentatively entering the ballroom from the parlour. He waved the book at them and said, "Shall I read from my 'father's' journal then?" He roughly flipped through the pages until he reached one dated March 17, 1923, and then read aloud:

I have finally found the boy Tushar, who of course is a boy no longer, but a man now with children of his own. He is no doubt the same lad cited in Prasad's account of the events near Cawnpore in 1903, for I can see the resemblance clearly from the photo despite the weathering of age upon his face.

I had feared in approaching him that he would not wish to speak of it, for it had been a bloody event and no doubt entirely traumatizing to behold, especially in light of the reaction of the British forces who had dispersed the populations of both villages involved.

On the contrary, however, to my relief Tushar was all too happy to tell the tale to any goras who actually believed him.

He recounts that Annapurna came to his village in late summer of 1902 to the delight of all, for they had heard tell of her miracles in other villages before theirs. Though their harvest looked to be weak—albeit not so poor as it had been in the famine previous—Annapurna only needed to stand among the crops and raise her hands. Tushar wept as he recounted how the leaves strengthened and turned a deep, rich green, how the vegetables became so plump that all mouths watered at the very sight, and how the air filled with the scent of a feast to come.

They fell to their knees in praise, but the great Annapurna would not accept it. As she walked from the field her eyes were sad and she could not be consoled, though she most graciously accepted a meal and lodging at the home of one of the elders. She went from field to field about the town in the next weeks, bringing everything to the same degree of perfection and asking nothing beyond basic shelter in return. She declined all requests to celebrate her magnificence but told them she was greatly fatigued and wished for a quiet place to spend the winter months. She pledged in return to ensure their spring planting would be strong and viable, so the villagers of course granted her request and gave her use of a small hut of her own.

She blessed them through the winter with local foods grown entirely out of season, and the villagers in turn brought her meat and cheese, but otherwise she kept to herself and did not long entertain any visitor.

But before the next planting, men came from another village; they too had heard that an incarnation of the goddess Annapurna was about and had come to beg her to visit their village, which, like all others, had lost many to the great famine and was only beginning to recover. They pleaded that the British were not helping as much as promised and that their need for her was dire. They offered her splendid items of gold and even a necklace with an enormous ruby, but she spurned them and said she would come only after she'd fulfilled her promise to Tushar's people.

The men became angry and brandished guns and knives. Tushar said Annapurna was not moved by their threats, though the women ran away with their children. Tushar's mother tried but failed to drag him away as she fled with his younger siblings.

The men of the village brought forth their own weapons, and despite Annapurna's demand that they all cease, a fight broke out and shots were fired.

Tushar was enraptured as he recounted how the goddess knelt upon the ground, her fists upon it as if she were clenching a rug, and beneath each fighting man there grew a tangle of grasses and vines, encircling their feet and legs, up the length of their bodies and knocking the weapons from their hands.

But one man held fast to his gun and shot Annapurna. She fell, and a heavy silence came upon the land as she bled into it.

They all gasped when she rose from the pool, tore her bloody dress away from her waist, and looked upon her wound, which closed before the eyes of all. The men wept, for they knew they had done a great evil. She caught the bullet in her hand as divine magic forced it out of her pure form, and she cast it to the ground, saying, "I came to help, to sustain life in the names of those whom I have loved and lost, but I see now that here too there lies only greed and hate and pain upon pain."

She waved her hand, and the vines that bound them wilted away. The men fell to the ground, except one who ran to one of the dead and screamed, "My brother! My brother is dead! A curse be upon you all!" Then he picked up his brother's gun and aimed it at another man, but before he could shoot, with a flick of her arm Annapurna brought forth a tree from the ground that pierced his chest, killing him.

Two others cried that she was not Annapurna but a demon stealing the form of the great goddess, and they ran at her. Again she moved, and again life sprang from the ground to entangle them, but this time it went about their throats and strangled them dead where they stood.

All the men fled, but Tushar stayed hidden behind crates. He watched Annapurna go amongst the bodies and regard them all without affection as she waved her hands, making all that she'd grown wither and crumble to dust. But then she sat amongst them and wept until villagers returned with British soldiers from the nearby camp en route to Sikkim.

Tushar said his heart broke when he heard Annapurna lie to the British, saying she was a Christian missionary from Canada, that her name was Anne Parnah but that the villagers had concocted a tale of her as the pagan goddess Annapurna, and that they foolishly believed their unexpectedly good harvest was due to her. The goras believed her, of course, and gladly took her away as they set about relocating the villagers to prevent further skirmishes.

Jason snapped the journal shut. "Do you see? She was trying to do good. There's no reason to believe she'd harm anyone unnecessarily. Even I still believe in the right to kill if necessary for self-defence or the defence of another. If they've got her locked up, I'm going to set her free, with or without your help or blessing."

"Jason," Trish said gently, "of course we'll help. We just need to be careful and sensible. I know that's a bit weird coming from me, but that's how important this is."

"I understand that."

"I think we should break for dinner," Don suggested. "With what appetite we have left, anyway. Then we can figure out what to do later."

"At the very least, I want to go down there and see what's going on for myself," Jason said. "She can't hurt me in any permanent way." He turned to take the journal back to the cabinet and left them standing there.

After he gently closed and relocked the glass door, he turned to the enormous portrait hanging on the wall to his right. He sighed and closed his eyes, knowing if he looked too long it would draw him in as it always did, and someone would have to come fetch him for dinner. He didn't want to deal with that, so he forced himself to leave.

* * *

Late that night, after an exhaustive session of reading, hacking, and discussion, Trish said, "Okay, I think we've got a plan, then."

"A risky plan," Don muttered.

"That's why you get to stay with the first van," Trish retorted.

"I still think it's too dangerous for you to go in there."

"Oh god, not again." Trish groaned.

Jason raised his hands and firmly declared, "We've been through that. I'm not thrilled either, but she made her point about me needing her in there, and I'll keep her safe. With Dr. Steele away on conference this week, we need to move now."

Trish said, "So let's summarize what we need to do over the next couple of days. Jason, you're going to have Judy book a hotel suite and a rental van in Seattle, and then I'll book the second van with one of our generalized corporate cards. Don, you're going to file the flight plan with the FAA so we have our fake-Seattle-meeting alibi all wrapped up with a pretty bow."

"Will do," Don said. "And I'll schedule it as another test of the plane to add extra veracity, since we haven't flown three people that far since the last solar cell upgrade."

"It'll be safe, though, right?" Jason asked.

"Oh definitely. I wasn't even going to officially test it after such a small upgrade," Don said. "It's just an excuse."

Jason rubbed his eyes. "Do we have an excuse for why we'd rent a gas van instead of the usual electric limo service?"

Trish thought for a moment and then muttered, "Fuck. Judy'll notice. And she'll notice if you book it yourself too. Damn it, I'll book the hotel and van and tell her I'm using my credit card perk points if she asks why. Then if anyone notices I booked a gas van, I'll say it was part of the perk package, or something. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it.

"Anyway, I'm going to find that blonde wig I wore at Halloween a few years ago, plus dig out some various-sized clothes so if anyone is down there we can get them into something inconspicuous when we leave. Don, you're going to get us two lab coats that don't have any of our labs' names on them, one that's too big for me and one too short for Jason, so it makes us harder to accurately describe should anyone notice us."

"I've got that in my notes. Don't worry."

"And lucky thing you're in need of a haircut anyway, Jason, so arrange to get it cut as soon as we're back. Remember not to shave tomorrow morning or the day after so you'll have major bush-beard going."

"I know," Jason replied. "Maybe I should work from home once I'm really fuzzy so nobody notices at the office. Nobody will care the first day, but after that someone's bound to comment."

"Yeah, go in tomorrow but not the next day," Trish agreed. "In fact, when I do my preliminary set-up of how I'm going to fuck up their security cameras, I should do that from here too, just in case."

"It could appear suspicious if we all stay home a lot, so Don should still go in."

"I will," Don replied. "I've been putting other things off, so I'll be conspicuously around."

"Okay," said Trish. "Jason, promise me you'll stick to the plan to drain and drop her if we get her out and she goes crazy."

"I said I would."

"But I know you're not happy about it."

"I'm never happy about using my ability to knock out anyone, but I recognize the utility and importance of that aspect. Bear in mind that we don't know if I can affect her at all."

"They got her down there somehow," Don said, "so presumably she can at least be temporarily made unconscious with enough damage, same as you."

"I will do what needs to be done," Jason declared, crossing his arms in such a way as to not have to see his hands.

"I guess that's that, then," Trish said. She looked at the clock. "Holy crap, it's after midnight. Bedtime, especially for you old men."

Jason nodded. "I'll see you two in the morning," he said before heading back to the gallery.

Once there, he gazed at the portrait again. It depicted a somewhat Rubenesque woman in Victorian dress, a pleasant smile upon her face as if someone beloved had recently made her laugh. Despite the smile, however, her green eyes bore a certain sadness that had captivated Jason ever since he'd acquired the work. He hadn't seen her eyes closely enough in real life to discern their colour and had often wondered how much was artistic interpretation versus reality.

After all, his own old portrait across the room was hardly a photographic representation. It matched well enough that, if he stood beside it, an impartial observer might glean a familial resemblance between the two tall, brown-haired, hazel-eyed, strong-jawed, muscular men. However, the late-seventeenth-century styling had rendered his eyes and expression in a flattened way that Trish said didn't do justice to how handsome he truly was, when she was in a conciliatory mood.

"I'm sorry for being a bit of a bitch earlier," Trish said as she came into the gallery behind him, clearly in such a mood at the moment.

"Hmm? Were you?"

"You know, deflating the two of you when you were so excited."

"Oh, that. No, you were raising entirely pertinent questions. I rely on you for that. No apology necessary."

"You okay?"

"Mmm-hmm." He turned to look at her and saw she was unconvinced. "I am, really. This is a good thing."

"I know what this means to you. I know what she means to you."

Jason nodded.

Trish patted his arm. "I'll leave you to your brooding, then."

"I'm not brooding." She gave him an incredulous look, so he admitted, "Not as much as usual. There's hope now, and I'm clinging to that."

Trish walked out, and Jason sat on the small couch to stare at the portrait for a long time before finally heading to bed himself.

### Chapter 2

WHEN TRISH ARRIVED in the dining room the next morning, she found Don eating in front of his computer. "Where's Jason?" she asked.

Without taking his eyes off his reading, he replied, "Gone to the office already. He was on his way out the door when I came down."

"How did he seem?"

"Don't know. I didn't give him a psych eval."

Trish sighed as she served herself from the heated platters. "I meant was he all cranky and slow or—"

"No, no, he was zipping around the place."

"Smiling or scowling?" Trish turned to see Don holding a fork in the air, dripping egg yolk in front of his open mouth. "What? What's wrong?" she asked quickly.

"Huh? Nothing! Craig over at Truitt Filter just sent me an email that he's got great new results on lowering the flow resistance on the—"

"Shit, I don't care about that! I thought you'd found more about Gaia!"

"No, I'm trying to catch up on other stuff, and you should care about this because it could mean—"

"Just tell me, was Jason smiling or frowning?"

"Um, neither, really. He didn't seem upset. No, wait, he did smile when he said he'd see me at work. Happy?"

Trish sat down to eat as she said, "Yes. Good."

* * *

Trish set her things in her office and then went directly to Jason's, where she found him pacing while on the phone. He held up a finger to indicate he was almost done.

When he hung up he said, "It's a good day already. It turns out there's a small sustainability conference in Seattle on right now, and they'd be thrilled to have me pop in for a quick panel discussion right after we arrive." He closed his door and continued more quietly, "That'll give us a reason for being there, or me at least, and still leave us plenty of time for our real mission. Plus it's small enough that it won't make any significant press."

Trish began to speak, but he interrupted her. "Ah, ah, I know, you've come to nag, but you don't need to. I've been a good boy and done all the stuff on my list. And you're going to love this! I've found the perfect way to swap us between the two vans without you having to hack in to falsify the GPS record!"

He bounded over to his computer and pointed to a satellite map on the screen. "There's this shallow creek bed here which shouldn't be a problem for us to cross. On this side is a defunct tree nursery, so we can park in back of it, and nobody will see us go down the hill to the creek. On the other side is an open meadow, and just beyond that is this mall," he said, opening a browser window, "which happens to be owned by Popucorp, which we've been courting for two years to get them into our Green Consumer initiative. That's a perfect excuse for us to have been down there from Seattle and for me to have brought you two along, because on the chance that anyone bothers to trace our movements we can claim we were checking out the mall for business purposes! Why are you looking at me like that? I thought you'd be happy."

"I'm worried about you."

"I don't know why. I haven't felt such hopeful anticipation for years!" He started to sit at his desk but then exclaimed, "Oh yeah!" and leapt back up to cross the room to his bookshelves.

"That's exactly it," Trish said, following him. "Jason, stop for a minute." She put her hands on his arms and made him turn to look at her. "Come on, stop for just one second."

"But I need to—"

"Stop. Take a breath," she ordered.

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

Trish lifted her hands and said, "I get that you're excited. We all are. But you need to be realistic about this."

"I am!"

"No, you're not. You're acting like a boy about to pick up the puppy he's wanted for as long as he can remember. It might not work out like you expect."

"I have no intention of treating her like a pet."

"But you have this mental image of her as being a certain kind of person. You've scrounged up tiny bits of information over a century and used that to create a character in your head that might not exist in real life. You really don't know much about her."

"I don't need to. It's not like I'm marrying her—I just want to know her."

"What if it's not actually her? Or even if it is, what if she doesn't want to know you?"

Jason's mouth opened to speak, but he remained silent as he contemplated that latter, horrible thought.

"What if she doesn't want to know anybody?" Trish continued. "You went through a time by yourself when you didn't want anything to do with anyone."

"That was different. I had become a monster," he replied in low whisper. "I needed to find my humanity again without risking anyone else."

"And she was living off by herself in the woods when someone grabbed her and stuffed her in a hole for about a decade. What kind of mood would you be in?"

His jaw set and his brow furrowed deeply.

"You'd want to kill someone. It's okay to admit that. I'd want to," she said.

He tried to look away, but Trish put her hands on his cheeks and forced him to maintain eye contact with her. "Jason, I don't want to upset you, but I can't stand the thought of you getting a broken heart over this. You don't know who or what is down there. I hope it is her and that she's a great person, but we can't go in there assuming that. You've got to go in with your head, not your heart."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why does that advice sound familiar?"

"Because I'm quoting you, and you know it."

"Did you listen to me at the time?"

Trish snorted. "Hardly! I was a stupid teenager, and you were bumming me out. But you were right."

He pointed at her and demanded, "I want that in writing."

Trish threw her hands in the air dramatically and went to the desk. She grabbed a piece of scrap paper and a thick marker and wrote in block letters, "JASON WAS RIGHT".

When she handed it to him, he said, "I'm going to keep this, you know." As he tucked the note into his wallet, he admitted, "I understand what you're saying, and you're probably right."

Trish seized the marker again and thrust it toward him.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Put it away," but she just grinned at him so he snatched it out of her hand and tossed it onto the desk. "I promise to try to keep a level head, okay?"

"It's not your head I'm worried about."

"I promise to keep my heart out of it as best I can too. Now please go tell Don that I'm about to send both of you an email about my panel discussion and suggest we check out this mall. That way it's in the record, but I don't want him wondering what the hell I'm talking about and sending me a suspicious reply."

Trish groaned. "He probably would, too. Fine. I'm going, but you calm down. If you're acting too giddy someone's going to notice that too."

"Fair enough."

Trish left, wondering petulantly why it should fall to her to have to manage the emotional whims and social foibles of two such bizarre men.

* * *

By the night before they were to leave, Jason's mood had flipped back to worry and desperate longing. He'd told Trish and Don to get lots of sleep but failed to take the advice himself and instead went to the gallery to sit gazing at the portrait some more.

Not long after he arrived, Trish came in and said accusingly, "I thought you were headed to bed."

"By and by," he said quietly. Then he recited,

Longing is like the Seed

That wrestles in the Ground,

Believing if it intercede

It shall at length be found.

The Hour, and the Clime —

Each Circumstance unknown,

What Constancy must be achieved

Before it see the Sun!

Trish sat beside him. "Who wrote that?"

"Dickinson. It seemed apropos. She ought not to be trapped there a single extra moment, let alone a day, before she can come forth to see the sun again."

Trish laughed. "'Ought not'? And 'by and by'?"

"Hmm, what?"

"I can tell your head is in the past when you get into the poetry and old-timey talk."

He tore his eyes away from the portrait long enough to give Trish a puzzled look.

"Whenever you tell your old stories or look at that picture or think about Gaia, your British accent creeps back a little bit and you say things like 'ought not' instead of 'shouldn't'."

He shook his head and returned his gaze to the green eyes as he muttered, "Rubbish."

"Sure, that refutes it."

"It's perfectly acceptable Queen's English," he protested.

"Sure, but which queen?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea of what you're on about."

Trish laughed again, patted his arm, and rose. "If you say so." She left, calling, "Good night!" behind her as she went.

Jason let out a long, slow sigh. He rose as well, moving to stand directly in front of the portrait. He caressed the brass nameplate that said, "Lady Rose Davidson, 1894," with his fingertips, lightly and reverentially.

Please be her, he thought. Please. He pressed his fingers against the name as if he could thus send his thoughts to her. I am coming for you, and I will make everything better, I swear it. Be her and be all right.

There he remained until he heard the grandfather clock in the library next door chime eleven o'clock. Then he went upstairs for what he knew would be a sleepless night.

* * *

They arrived in Seattle without incident, and Jason appeared on the discussion panel to great appreciation by the attendees, since he was well-respected in the field but not commonly seen in public. That was deliberate, of course; the fewer people who noticed his lack of aging, the longer he could continue as Jason Truitt.

They spent the remainder of that day preparing for their adventure and then went to bed as early as possible as to facilitate a speedy start in the morning.

The sun had only been up for a short time when Don dropped Trish and Jason off in their semi-disguised forms near a corporate vehicle rental facility several miles away from the Hamdon site. Don went to park at the mall and wait for them while Trish walked down the block to pick up the second van. Once she had it, she drove back to the bus bench where Jason sat waiting, looking like a dishevelled medical resident. She then drove them to a strip mall that backed onto a small field, on the other side of which was Hamdon BioTech.

When they were certain nobody was watching, they slipped down the embankment and hurried to the scattered trees at the side of the field. They made their way as carefully as possible to a grove of trees behind the research building's closed loading dock. After analyzing the company's purchase habits and looking up their typical courier schedule, Don had determined that this morning between 9:15 and 9:45 was the least likely time for anyone to be back there.

While hidden in the trees, Trish used a phone they'd purchased anonymously for this event to access the Trojan horse she'd set up in Hamdon's network.

"I'm in," she whispered. An impressively short time later she said, "Okay, their front desk security monitors are now looping on yesterday's data from this time."

"Hopefully there wasn't anything exciting going on yesterday."

Trish gave Jason a dirty look. "I did check, you know. You don't keep me around to be stupid."

"True. It's fortunate your nefarious skills can finally be used for good."

"Aren't you glad you didn't send me to reform school when you had the chance?" She tapped the phone again. "Back door is now unlocked as if it's been legitimately card-swiped. Yay for technology over needing actual keys! Let's go."

Trish reached into the pocket of her lab coat, took out rubber gloves, and slipped them on. As they went up the steps, Jason closed his eyes.

"Anyone on the other side?" Trish asked.

"I don't think so, no."

They opened it and went in, trying not to look at the camera pointed at the door, just in case.

Using the floor plans they'd committed to memory, they were able to walk through the office unnoticed to the door to the mysterious central corridor. They had to go past Dr. Steele's office, but since she was away with her assistant, nobody was there to see them. Trish tapped on her phone again, and the red light on the door's panel turned green.

Inside the corridor was a desk with a man sitting at a computer. Trish closed the door behind them as Jason stepped forward with a smile. They weren't sure if he was a researcher or a security guard, but it didn't matter.

"Who are you?" the man asked, rising from his chair.

"Hi! I'm Dr. Somebody!" Jason said with a grin as he stepped forward and extended a hand to shake.

"Who?" the man asked but automatically put out his hand anyway.

Jason grabbed it, pulled enough of the man's consciousness out of him to send him into a deep sleep, and caught him as he fell, propping him up at his desk in such a way that it looked like he was napping on the job.

"I've got this lock scrambled so only I can open it," Trish said, and then pointed behind Jason. "That'll be the cleaning area." A sign instructed all persons entering the "Project Zone" to remove their shoes, so they did, placing them on a tray to the side.

They passed through a curtain of thick strips of plastic into a small enclosure. Trish pressed a red button familiar to them both from other laboratories with sensitive equipment. A sudden rush of air swirled around them. Trish temporarily took off her wig and shook it in the air stream, and Jason ran his hands roughly through his hair. But instead of the air stream ending as they were used to, in the last moments a foul-smelling fog accompanied it.

Trish coughed and then wheezed, "Did I just increase my cancer risk?"

"Quite possibly, sorry. Shit," he said with a worried expression.

She shrugged it off. "I guess it's better than death in the next few minutes."

They passed through a second curtain and gave each other a thorough inspection for any stray plant material. Then each took a set of blue paper boots with white rubber soles from a tub on a table by the elevator door.

Trish pressed the elevator button, and the door opened. Inside, they kept their heads down in case the lift car was equipped with a camera she hadn't been able to locate on the network.

The descent was slow and eerie. Jason whispered, "You okay?"

"Too late if I'm not."

He started to react, but she waved him off. "What about you? With the draining? You're not going to go all crazy-addict on me, are you?"

Jason muttered, "Takes more than a little knock-out for me to get a noticeable jolt. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but—"

"Don't, Trish. Just leave it be."

When the elevator stopped and didn't immediately open, they exchanged a look of panic, but then they heard a rattle from the other side and the doors slid apart.

A man in a lab coat with a nametag labelled Steve Bertille said, "What are you doing here? I thought you were—hey?" He stopped speaking and stared at them in confusion.

Jason once more smiled and stuck out a hand to shake. "Hi, Steve! Glad to meet you! I'm Dr. So-and-so from..." His voice trailed off as the man fell to floor, unconscious.

"Nice names," Trish muttered. "Couldn't you come up with something better?"

"Why? Most people I drain don't remember the five minutes prior, let alone five seconds."

They found themselves in a room reminiscent of a hospital on their left, with shelves full of medical items ranging from scrubs to a phlebotomist's tray. The wall on that side featured a door beside a wide, curtained window above a long desk sporting a computer and several stacks of miscellaneous papers and surgical paraphernalia. The right side was set up as a research laboratory.

Trish pointed a photo on the desk of an elderly lady holding a gaudy pink cake with the name "Ethel" scrawled in blue frosting. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with someone that they can be a creepy-ass evil lab tech but have a picture of their grandma staring at them all damned day?" Shuddering, she peered at the monitor and said, "There's a schedule on here, but it looks like they don't have anything going on this week except routine stuff like food and linen changes." She turned to Jason and added in a pained voice, "For someone named Anna."

"Just get us in," he whispered.

Trish tested access codes on the computer while Jason stepped forward slowly, his legs suddenly feeling as if they were surrounded by cold water, making him fear it was all a dream and he was about to wake to discover that the past few days hadn't happened. But he did not wake; he reached the window and lifted the edge of the curtain with the back of his hand.

Beyond it was a brightly lit room, tiled on all surfaces, with a hospital bed in the far right corner and a toilet in an alcove in the middle of the far wall. Rails on the ceiling indicated that privacy curtains could have been available for both the bed and toilet, but the rails were empty, meaning anyone at the window had a full view of the room. The bed was unmade, and padded restraints with well-worn edges dangled from its frame.

In the far left corner was a woman sitting on the floor. She was dressed in pale blue hospital scrubs and beige rubberized socks, her head hidden behind her knees with long, dark hair draped over her arms and her hands locked around her shins. She was rocking slowly, lightly bumping the wall to her left repeatedly, her shoulders tilted slightly away from the door as if shielding herself against anything that might enter.

Jason almost touched the window with the fingertips of his right hand, but then he remembered he wasn't gloved and pulled them back just in time. "Oh shit," he whispered. "That's not good."

Trish leaned to look through the window. "No, it isn't. You sure about this?"

Jason nodded.

Trish removed Steve's lanyard with his photo ID and security card, slid the card through a reader by the computer, and entered a code on the keyboard. The light beside the door's handle changed from red to green, and they heard a soft click.

Jason suddenly thought better of wearing a lab coat for his first conversation with the woman he'd sought for more than a century, so he took it off and tossed it on the chair as Trish opened the door and stood aside to let him enter first.

As he went inside, the woman lifted her head to look at him but otherwise retained her defensive posture. He was stunned motionless for a moment when he saw the green eyes he knew so well and could now confirm had not been enhanced for aesthetics in the portrait. They were as bright as depicted but fixed on him with a baleful stare instead of the far-away sadness to which he'd grown accustomed.

"Hello," he said as gently as he could. "You must be Anna."

"You must be stupid," she snapped back.

"Uh—"

"You lot ought to know by now that I can hear everything out there once the door is opened. I heard you take off your lab coat. Did you think that'd fool me because you're new? Did you think I would imagine you a friend come for tea?" She sneered. Her fury was palpable, her upper lip on the edge of snarl.

Despite the years he'd longed for this meeting, Jason suddenly felt a desperate urge to flee. He had no words to counter such wrath.

Anna's eyes darted back and forth between Trish and Jason as if she were performing a scan. Then she closed her eyes and put her head back down, muttering, "At least you know enough not to have brought me fresh gifts. Do what you will, then, as I have no means to stop you. Get it over with."

The abatement of her rage allowed him to recover his breath. He tried to explain. "You misunderstand. I'm not here to—"

"Don't insult me by pretending to care," came her muffled voice. "Nobody who comes down that lift cares."

"We do," replied Trish meekly.

Jason stepped a little closer to her and then crouched down to be at her eye level but still ready to react if necessary. He wanted so badly to reach out to her, both as a gesture of friendly comfort and for his own need to test the reality of her presence. However, he knew he wasn't welcome to do so and did not wish to risk reigniting her anger or, worse, frightening her. He put one hand on his knee and held the other open before her so she could see that he held no weapon or medical instrument.

"Anna," he said in the softest tone he could muster given his shaking stomach, "my name is Jason Truitt. Well, that's not my original name. I was born Jason Moore." He leaned in closer and added in a whisper he hoped was too low to be heard by any recording device Trish might not have disabled, "In the year 1620, in London."

Anna looked at him in shock, but her expression returned to fury as she spat, "Liar!"

"I wish it weren't true," he said earnestly. "I'm like you. I don't ever get sick. Any wound I receive heals quickly. I don't appear to be able to die."

"I don't believe you. You're playing a trick. I won't fall for any more tricks!"

"I can only imagine what they've done to you down here, but I honestly am here to get you out." He smiled at her as best as he could given the bevy of painful emotions raining down upon him. "I've been looking for you for over a century, since Ebenezer Howard's book reading at a fund-raiser for his new Garden City Association in 1899. June, I think it was. I usually know the date, but forgive me—it's such a dream come true to finally meet you that I can't quite think straight.

"But the memory of you on that day is very clear to me: when the Crooke's tube on display overheated, you put yourself between it and a group of ladies sitting nearby. I saw what was about to happen and tried to intervene, but there were too many people in the way. You raised your arm just as the tube exploded. I saw the burn and the glass in your arm. But in the ensuing mayhem you hid it all and shortly thereafter revealed a perfectly healthy arm, insisting that your dress had taken the brunt and that the blood upon it was that of one the slightly injured women you so bravely protected. Everyone declared it a miracle, but I knew it wasn't true. I've had a piece of that glass in my home all these years, and I've been searching for you ever since."

She stared blankly at him for a moment, and then she closed her eyes and whispered, "This is a particularly cruel trick."

"It isn't a trick," Trish said. "Jason, show her. We don't have much time."

Anna opened her eyes to fix Trish with a cold stare and then looked back and forth several times between them again. Next she stared at the open door, and Jason could tell by the slight shift in her posture what she was considering, so he said, "Trish, move back a bit. Don't block the door. We're not keeping anybody in here, are we?"

Trish stepped to the side as she said, "Nope."

"You can run right out if you wish. We are setting you free, not abducting you. We would never take you anywhere or hold you against your will. However, as I said I've been looking for you for a long time, and if you were to afford me the pleasure of at least one conversation, I would be most grateful." He shifted sideways to make it clear that she could go.

She narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously. "What have you got out there waiting for me?"

"Freedom," said Trish.

"I'll prove to you what I said before," Jason offered. He leaned back and, with one hand in the air in placation, slowly withdrew his pocketknife with the other. Anna nonetheless hunched defensively back into the corner, so he said, "It's okay, it's okay." He offered her the knife's handle, but she only stared at it. "Cut me with this, anywhere you like, although I find it quite unpleasant to be stuck in the face so if you wouldn't mind avoiding that, I'd appreciate it."

Anna kept staring at the knife.

Trish rolled her eyes. "Do it yourself. I wouldn't want to cut you. That's kind of gross, actually."

"Forgive me," Jason said quickly. "I thought it would seem like less of a trick if I gave you control of it."

Anna shook her head slowly.

He opened the knife and drew it across the palm of his hand right before her, wincing slightly as he went. He folded the knife and put it back in his pocket while keeping his bleeding hand in front of her.

She lurched forward so suddenly he almost fell backward, but her grip on his hand kept him upright. She pulled the deep cut open to inspect it, which hurt, but he did all he could to prevent her from noticing his pain. It began to heal right away; her jaw dropped. She poked at the blood that remained as the wound closed and examined it on her fingertip, then sniffed it. He felt her hand begin to tremble as her breath quickened and she started whispering several staccato, incoherent phrases, the clearest of which he heard as, "Can't be!" and "No, no, no, not ever!"

"I thought I'd never find anyone like me either," he said.

She held her own palm beside his, once more her eyes darting back and forth. Then she looked at him, and a single tear fell down her cheek. "I don't know what to do now."

"That's simple," Trish said. "We leave. Let's go."

"I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner," Jason said as both relief and sadness began to pour out of him. "I would have come if I'd known."

"Right, great, you two will have plenty of time to talk in the car," Trish said. "But seriously, they're going to realize there's a security system problem soon. Let's go."

"She's right," Jason said, struggling to maintain his composure. "Please, let's get you out of here."

Anna let go of his hand. He reached to help her up, but she rose from her knees to standing in one smooth, elegant motion, revealing more strength than he could have imagined in someone so pale and wan. He instead pointed to the door, gesturing for her to go first. She did, eyeing both of them all the while.

When she got to the outer room, she looked around as if it were completely unfamiliar. She saw Steve on the ground and frowned. "Is he dead?"

"No," Jason replied. "Merely unconscious for the next few hours."

"What did you do to him?"

Trish and Jason exchanged a look of concern, but Jason said, "I drained him. It's something I can do."

Anna narrowed her eyes at him again.

"I can't make things grow as you can, but I can touch people and sort of steal their energy. We don't know how it works except that there is a minor electrical field—"

"Can you kill with it?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"But you didn't kill him."

"No, I try to avoid killing," Jason replied, followed by the thought, These days, at least.

"Can you kill me?"

His first instinct was to reassure her he had no intention of trying, but then his stomach knotted as he realized by her desperate tone and newly hopeful expression that she meant it not as a concern but as a request.

"No," he said. "I don't think so, and I wouldn't even if I could."

She turned away, and his heart broke anew. "Very well then," she said sadly. "I want to go now."

Trish pushed the elevator button, and the doors opened. They both nodded at Anna to indicate she should go in first, but she stood fast until Trish rolled her eyes again and went in ahead of her.

As the elevator began to rise, Jason looked down at Anna's socked feet. "We have shoes and clothes for you at the next car, but I've just realized we forgot to bring shoes with—"

Anna gasped and threw her head back, eyes wide. She lifted her hands, palms upward and called out, "I feel them again!"

Trish backed into the corner, staring at Anna in horror as the latter changed before their eyes. Loose skin draped on bony arms filled out with strong, feminine muscle lines. Her face rounded out, softening out the pointed chin and cheekbones. Even her hair seemed to lift up and regain a healthy bounce as she groaned in a way that might have been pain, delight, or both.

When the elevator stopped, Anna looked forward once more and grinned with both pleasure and malice. As the doors opened and she strode forth, Trish hissed, "Jason! Do something!"

But he didn't want to. He didn't dare. Only when Anna knocked aside the plastic curtain ribbons and was out of sight did he find his feet enough to go after her. He looked through the checkpoint to see her at the door, rattling the handle hard enough that he could see the metal discolour from flexing.

"Did the building just shake?" Trish asked in an uncharacteristically high voice as she hurriedly put her shoes back on.

Jason grabbed his shoes and said, "Anna, wait, please!"

"I want out now!" she demanded.

"Trish, unlock the door."

"I don't think that's such a good—"

"Trish, please!" he insisted.

Trish only approached the door when Anna stepped obligingly away. As she unlocked it, she said, "We really do have to proceed with caution out there—" but Anna darted beyond her, flung the door open, and ran out to the main offices.

"No, wait!" Jason pleaded again, rushing after her. But Anna had gone only a few steps into the hall around the corner.

He looked around, saw Trish step out warily behind him, and also saw that the office workers were all clustered around the windows, frantically pointing and exclaiming about something outside and thus paying him no heed.

"Hurry while they are distracted," Anna said in a low growl before taking off once more.

"No, this way!" Jason hissed.

Anna turned, regarded him warily for a moment, and then went the way he was pointing.

Jason took Trish's hand so he would not lose track of her as they ran out of the building. Anna rushed out the back door ahead of them, but as they exited, Jason stopped fast and Trish crashed into him.

Anna was already in the rear parking lot, which was now covered with thick, swirling, rapidly growing cables of grass and creeping ground cover. She had resumed her pose from the elevator, turning slowly around with her face turned up to the sky. Another dramatic change occurred: her skin took on a healthy colour, as if she were instantly soaking up the sunshine.

"Oh my god," Trish said, pointing to the writhing tendrils of green climbing up the building's walls. The sea of growth extended to the tree lines of the property on all sides, and possibly beyond.

Anna turned to them again as she stood amongst her handiwork, arms still outstretched. "If only Dr. Steele was here, what a gift I'd have for her!" she intoned, the malicious grin returning. "Shall I show them all what it's like to suffer and beg for death?"

"No!" Jason cried, leaping off the little landing and running toward Anna. But as fast as he was, he didn't get to her before she crouched to touch the ground. The green beneath him rose and encircled his legs, making him stumble forward, just out of reach of her.

"Oh god!" Trish cried again, gripping the doorframe as the entire building lurched. Screams echoed from within.

Anna closed her eyes and the growth increased, wrapping the building entirely, making it groan and causing several windows to shatter out of their frames. Her smile shifted from malice to ecstasy.

Jason tried to step out of the entanglement, but it grew faster than he could overcome even with his unnatural strength. "Please, Anna, don't!" he shouted above the uncanny creaks and hisses of plant growth all around them.

"Why shouldn't I have my vengeance?" Anna called out. "Those who harm others have no right to mercy!" Her eyes flew open, and she grimaced as she thrust her hands forward. A sickening cracking sound erupted from the center of the building.

Then, silence: not even the sound of wind or a bird. The growth had stopped. Every opening into the building was so stuffed with vegetation that any sounds inside were contained.

Jason pulled his legs free but stayed where he was. Anna stood with arms limp by her sides, regarding her handiwork.

"Because I am not what they think I am," she said softly. "That is why."

Jason could feel that there were people alive inside the building; their combined terror shone like a beacon in his mind. He glanced back to see Trish on the stairs, outside the growth but clinging to it and the stair rail to keep from falling.

Anna noticed as well. She flicked her hand, and the green beneath Trish's feet turned brown and crumbled away, clearing the stairs for her but keeping the door behind her plugged.

"Dr. Steele said I had to be kept locked up for everyone's safety," Anna said flatly. "She begged me to understand that. But she was wrong. I'm not a monster."

I am, was Jason's automatic thought, but he shook it off and said, "I believe you."

"I could kill them all, you know. I could bring this building crashing down upon them and drag it under the ground. I could suffocate them, crush them, destroy them."

"I do not doubt it."

Anna held her palms out in the sunlight and waved them lightly as if she were trying to catch the beams. "I feel so strong again now, I could probably do so for miles and miles."

Jason didn't know how to reply.

"But instead I shall leave it like this. Let them dig themselves out. Let them at least know a few hours of panic and terror and helplessness as I have for..." She let out a single wry chuckle and said, "For I don't even know how long."

"That seems fair enough," he said carefully. He turned to Trish as she approached, white-faced and trembling. He held out his hand for her. "It'll give us time to get away unseen."

Trish took his hand and gripped it hard.

"I do not know where to go," Anna said.

"With us," Jason replied. "We'll keep you safe, I swear it. We'll get you far away from here, and hopefully they won't even know where to start looking for you."

Anna pointed to the green at her feet. "Perhaps they'll henceforth know better than to try."

### Want More?

Finding Gaia is available at all leading ebook stores listed at http://findinggaia.com along with a 3D rendering of the Truitt mansion with screen shots, Trish's blog, a recommended list of songs to match major scenes, plus other extras.

### About Kimberly Chapman

Kimberly Chapman has been making things up and writing them down for as long as she can remember. She holds a double major degree in Journalism and Anthropology and worked for a few years as a technology reporter, but she soon found that it was more fun to interact with the fake people who live in her head than interview real-life people about network hardware.

She left her native Canada in 2000 to marry an Australian and live in the United States with him, because love does that sort of thing to a person. They have a young daughter who keeps asking to Mum's books and has been told not until she's twenty-five.

When Kimberly's not obsessively transcribing the lives of the fake people in her head or busy with Mum duties, she can usually be found engaged in experimental cake decorating (which she blogs at http://eat-the-evidence.com), nerdy knitting, volunteering for creative community organizations like Capital Confectioners and The Biscuit Brothers, discussing topics both profound and trivial on Google+, or playing computer games.

Discover this and other titles by Kimberly Chapman at Smashwords.com:

Gaia Series

_Finding Gaia_ – <http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/180554>

_The Power of a Blush_ \- <http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/254043>

### Read more about Kimberly Chapman's books

### Gaia Series

Finding Gaia

Jason Truitt has wealth and power but for over a century hasn't been able to locate the one woman he believes shares his immortality. Unsure of her real name, he thinks of her as Gaia because of her ability to grow plants by thought alone. Finding her, however, is only the beginning: decades of loss, isolation, abduction, and unspeakable torture have left her unsure of who, what, or when she is.

The Power of a Blush

Last night, Jason and Anna—two immortals trying to survive the modern world—finally succumbed to their desires and made love in a way befitting Anna's unique mastery over all plant life. Today, they will feign interest in other things, but as everyone knows, nothing burns as hot as the lusty fires of newly declared love. This free e-book is a bonus extended scene to the novel _Finding Gaia_.

### Other Fiction

Sorrows of Adoration

The barmaid Aenna overhears a plot to kill the heir to the throne and decides to leave her life behind to warn him. Aenna and the Prince fall in love, but this is not a fairy tale romance. Endless problems threaten to destroy the couple, including the love that grows between Aenna and her Champion, the Prince's cousin.

### Non-fiction

Flexible, Edible Stained Glass

This book will take you through the basics of making your own gummy candy, complete with three different recipes that give decorators literal and figurative flexibility in their designs. Next, it shows you how to turn those basics into fantastic results that will have everyone asking, "How on Earth did you do that?" Step-by-step photos and instructions illustrate just how easy it is to be creative and have fun with the newest medium in the sugar arts world.

Cute and Easy Turkey Cakes

This is a perfect cake for those who have always wanted to try fondant or only have limited experience with it and want to go beyond simply covering a cake. The techniques are explained on the beginner level, but more advanced decorators can still pick up some tips and tricks for making this adorable little cake.

