10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
T he next few weeks are a whirlwind of happiness and discovery. Tag and I spend just about every night together, although most days we’re apart. We don’t quite go to extreme lengths to avoid being seen together—I am supposed to be introducing him to court, and he says it wouldn’t be the end of the world if someone saw us eating lunch together or something like that—but we do at least try to keep our unofficial courtship from being widely known.
Still, I doubt we can completely avoid people finding out, even if we try our hardest. I’m sure my servants have figured out why I’ve been dismissing them early almost every night, just as I’m sure the Learas’ servants—and maybe even Tag’s parents or Riella—have noticed Tag’s bed has barely been slept in recently. But Tag seems okay with it, and I follow his lead. If all goes well, everyone will find out about us soon enough. I can’t wait to show him off, but, in the meantime, I’m happy to go along with his request.
When we do meet during the day, I take it upon myself to show him the parts of the palace that he hasn’t seen yet and the rest of Cedelia. He’s already been to the palace gardens and the library, but there’s so much more to explore. One day, I take him to the circuit near the edge of the city so we can watch the horse races. Another day, I take him to the tallest tower in the city, an old watchtower that dates back to the early days of the Empire, where we can see the entire city spread out before us. Later, in a moment of either complete brilliance or sheer idiocy, I take him to the courtyard where Ivy practices her knife-throwing. I’m secretly pleased to discover he’s no better than me at it.
As we spend more and more time together, I find myself falling for him more and more. Perhaps it’s just because he’s new to court, but he doesn’t have the unspoken arrogance that I associate with most of the people who live here in the palace, outside of my own family and a few others. It’s refreshing to be around someone who doesn’t think they’re better than everyone else just because they live in the same building as Father, or because they have a title that’s been passed down in their family for generations. When I’m with Tag, I feel a sense of comfort, of belonging, as though I’ve known him for years—and, more importantly, as though he’s known me for years. It feels like he likes me for the person that I am, not for the person I should be.
Beneath my happiness and excitement is a deep, deep sense of relief. Tag is a wonder, someone I hoped—but never really expected—I would find. I know it’s still early and there are any number of things that can go wrong, but for the first time in my life, I’m really starting to believe things can turn out well, that someone can love me for who I am and not just the family I was born into. It’s a wonderful feeling.
One Saturday morning, about two weeks after Tag and I started secretly courting, I receive a message from Father. There’s a slight quiver in my stomach as I open it, trying to figure out what I’ve done to attract his attention.
Come to my study as soon as possible. I need to discuss something with you .
It’s rather terse, but I’d be far more surprised if it wasn’t. I wonder what he wants this time ?
Try as I might, I can’t come up with anything. Samis and Father meet to discuss the affairs of the kingdom, or whatever else, pretty much every day around dawn. Among the many things they share is a propensity for getting business done early in the morning, while the rest of us are still asleep. But I usually only get invited to his study when I’ve messed up somehow. As far as I know, I haven’t made any major mistakes recently.
Unless … maybe he found out about me and Tag somehow? That could be it, but I can’t imagine why he would summon me if that was the case. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, after all. Still, the possibility is enough to cause me no small amount of disquiet during the short walk to my parents’ chambers.
When I arrive, a servant guides me to a large study, where my father, King Tolmir Garros of Soeria, sits at a small table by an arched window. In the morning light, he looks like an older replica of Samis, although his hair is longer and lighter, and he has a goatee where Samis is clean-shaven. A few wrinkles line his face, but there are fewer than I would expect for someone who reached the age of fifty not too long ago. Even from here, I can feel a sense of intensity, of vitality, coming from him, like a fire gives off heat.
Yet, being the king is a stressful job, and I can see the signs if I look closely enough. His hair has always been light, but now it’s closer to white than it is to brown, and there are lines at the corners of his mouth that I assume come from nearly thirty years of grimacing at bad news delivered by his advisors. But, as far as I can tell, he’s showing no signs of slowing despite his increasing age. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s the same way after another thirty years have passed.
Next to Father at the table is one of his closest friends and advisors, Lord Alrudden Kerion, High Chancellor of Soeria. A neat stack of papers sits in front of Kerion; no doubt reports that he’s decided require Father’s attention. Like Mother and the viscountess, the two of them grew up together, and I know Father values Kerion’s opinion, so it’s no surprise to see him here. In contrast with Father, Kerion is the sort of person who would go unnoticed in a crowd. Though, his analytical mind is second to none. Father may be the face of the kingdom, but Kerion is its brain and hands, taking care of the myriad details necessary for ensuring the country runs smoothly.
I patiently wait by the door for a minute or so, still unable to figure out why I’m here, before Father notices me and waves me over. “Darien, please join us.”
Kerion nods to me as I take my seat next to him.
“Alrudden, you’re almost done, correct?” Father says.
“Actually, I have two more minor items to discuss before we move on, Your Majesty,” he says, and Father motions for him to continue. Kerion dips his head slightly before he resumes speaking. “Evidently a shepherd in a town just over the border with Verreene has declared herself to be a descendant of the last empress and the heiress of the Idrian Empire. I’m told she tried to gather an army and march on the capital. Fortunately, the Verrenese army captured her without too much bloodshed, and the rabble dispersed quickly after that. They did manage to cause damage to some Soerian lands before their defeat, though.”
“Send someone we trust to inspect the affected area and come up with an estimate of how much gold it would take to repair the damage,” Father says. “I’ll discuss compensation with the Verrenese ambassador next time I see her.”
Kerion nods; I have no doubt he’ll carry out Father’s orders to the letter as soon as this meeting is over.
“And the second item?” Father prompts.
“Your Majesty may recall that we discussed an outbreak of wasting fever in the villages surrounding Cedelia some weeks ago?” Kerion barely waits for Father to nod before he continues. “It appears that our efforts to keep the outbreak contained have been unsuccessful, as three cases have been reported in the city proper.”
Father mutters a quiet oath. Then, at a normal volume, he says, “Are any of the cases in the city serious?”
Kerion shakes his head. “Thankfully no, Your Majesty. But we don’t know whether the disease has spread, and there may be additional cases in coming days.”
Father mulls this over for a moment. “See to it that any who fall ill in the city are placed under quarantine. We don’t want the disease to spread any further. Send some of the palace healers to see what they can do for those who are already sick.” He turns to me. “I suppose that just leaves you, then. Alrudden and I were talking about you before you came in.”
“I see,” I reply, my pulse beginning to pick up. The two of them discussing me is never a good sign. “What were you talking about, exactly?”
He smiles, but there’s no humor in it. “It’s no secret that I’m getting up there in years, Darien.”
I don’t even blink at his bluntness. I’m more than used to it by now.
“Hopefully,” he continues, “I still have many good years ahead of me, but I might not. I’m certain Samis will have no trouble stepping into my shoes once I’m gone. Emma will do well, too, assuming she ever discovers how to multitask instead of focusing her energy on one activity at a time. You, on the other hand…” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment. “When that time comes, I expect you to aid Samis any way you can, should he require your assistance.”
Is this really what he wanted to discuss ? Suffice to say I’ve heard this before. He’s always favored Samis and Emma over me, for as long as I can remember. Not openly, and not exceedingly, but I know where I stand. “I understand, Father.”
“I’m not sure that you do.” His words are quiet, yet sharp as a knife. “You see, when I say any way you can, I mean it.”
Bile rises in the back of my throat. “What would you have me do that I’m not currently doing?”
This time, when he smiles, it looks real, which scares me more than I care to admit. “The same thing every prince or princess your age should do, of course: get married and raise heirs. The council has been increasingly insistent that it’s well past time for you to get married, and I’ve finally decided that they’re right. To that end, I instructed Alrudden to begin the process of finding a match for you a few weeks ago.”
Gray dread mixed with red anger settles over me, starting at my head and working its way down to my toes. This can’t happen now ! Not when I finally managed to get Tag ! “Do I at least get to have a say in who you’re going to set me up with?” I struggle to keep my voice even; if I keep it together, maybe I can convince him that Tag is an option. “Or are you just going to choose someone for me?”
Father looks at me like I’ve just said something insane, and my heart drops. “Do you think I had any say in the matter when my marriage to your mother was arranged by your grandparents? No, you’ll do as you’re told, for the good of your family—and, more importantly, your country .” He glares at me for a moment longer, then shakes his head. “In any event, the point is moot. When Alrudden and I first discussed the matter some weeks ago, I instructed him to communicate with the governments of our neighboring countries, to see if any of them have any interest in forming an alliance through a marriage between you and a foreign prince. They—”
“Wait a second,” I interrupt. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself; this is quickly turning into my worst nightmare, and I feel like I have to do something or I’ll burst. “You’re only considering foreign princes? Why does it have to be a prince? And for that matter, why are you even sending these messages in the first place? If I’m going to be forced to marry someone, why can’t it be someone who’s already here? Are you really trying to tell me there’s nobody here that’s acceptable? Why not just pick someone that I already know?”
Father’s eyes hold mine, daring me to look away. His brows are drawn down and his mouth is compressed into a thin line, as though he’s barely containing his anger. Which makes sense because no one ever challenges him once he’s made a decision. “You may not have learned this from the reports you spend all your time reading, but our position is tenuous. Perhaps if we were still just one part of a large empire, we could get away with being less than vigilant. But you just heard Kerion talk about that Verrenese shepherd who declared herself the next empress, did you not? What do you think would happen if— when —some fool king or queen decides to do the same thing, and chooses to attack Soeria? Do you really doubt that Raktos or Verreene or Jirena Sadai would move in at the first sign of Soerian weakness?” His gaze bores into me like an auger through wood. “The only reason they haven’t done so already is because of our alliance with Zeteyon—which only came about through my arranged marriage to your mother, by the way. And thanks to your uncle’s pointless bickering with the Khorians, we can’t rely on that to keep us safe anymore. Besides, that alliance won’t last forever, and we need to be prepared.”
Every word he says is like a tiny earthquake to my being. “But… I don’t…” I pause and take a moment to corral my thoughts. “Belling told me that we don’t have to worry about the Zeteyoni army being unavailable,” I finally say, knowing it won’t matter to him, and that I have to try anyway. “They said it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Father’s gaze is as sharp as an assassin’s dagger. “Belling may be right. They usually are. But I am the king, not them, and I am the one who bears ultimate responsibility when it comes to keeping Soeria safe. If arranging a marriage for you makes the country even slightly more secure, it is a small price to pay.”
Heat flushes through me, and I have to stop myself from shaking with anger. “I’m supposed to marry someone I’ve never met before, just because that’s what you did? That will somehow fix all our problems? Why didn’t you make Samis marry some foreign princess instead? He’s the one that’s going to be king, not me!”
“You’re entirely correct,” he says. I thought my saying that would make him angry—maybe I even wanted to make him angry—but he speaks calmly, as though we’re discussing the weather, and not my impending doom. “I don’t mean anything against Kenessa personally, but your brother should have married a princess instead of her. Allowing him to marry her was a mistake, and I will not make that mistake again.” His voice is soft, but there’s hardness underneath it, like steel covered with silk. “Now then, do you have any more irrelevant objections, or may I finish?”
I have quite a few objections, but I know that it wouldn’t do me any good to voice them, so I stay quiet. Maybe I can still fix this somehow .
“The reason why I’m mentioning this to you now,” he continues, “is that I received a message from Jirena Sadai this morning. Their queen has a brother who is willing to consider marrying you. His name is Arbois, and he’s about your age. Evidently, the Jirenians want to move quickly, since he was planning to leave the Jirenian court in Segaron a week or so after the messenger left. I expect he’ll presumably choose comfort over speed, which means he’ll be here perhaps two weeks from now. We’ll have to—”
“Wait, you’ve already found someone?” I stare at him. “And you didn’t even think to tell me about this until now? You could have at least mentioned something before you invited this Arbois person to come to the palace!”
Father frowns, but he otherwise seems undeterred by my distress. “Truth be told, I did not officially invite Arbois just yet,” he says. “They decided to send him here on their own initiative. Of course, I was planning to invite him within the near future anyway. If anything, their impatience is a benefit. We would be lucky to gain an alliance with them quickly, before the effects of your uncle’s folly can truly be felt.”
A spike of fear as cold as ice blooms in the pit of my stomach. No. This can’t be happening. It can’t!
“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” Father continues, “we’ll have to agree on terms for the marriage treaty, but I have no reason to doubt that the negotiations will go smoothly.”
The anger I was feeling starts to slip away, leaving behind a numbness that starts at my toes and works its way up, even as I struggle to keep it from enveloping me completely. I try desperately to figure out a way out of this, but there’s not much I can do if Father is determined.
Still … there is one card left that I can play. It’s a long shot, but I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try. Hopefully Tag will forgive me, though . “I understand how important it is to you that I make a good match.” I lift my head and look him in the eyes, trying to project confidence. “But I’ve already found a better suitor than this Arbois—Tag Leara. He and I have been courting for almost a month now. He’s already here, so you wouldn’t have to wait weeks to make an agreement. And he’s foreign, too. So, there’s really no reason for Arbois to even come here, is there?”
“You mean Catherine’s son? Why would he be an acceptable match?” There’s more than a hint of anger in Father’s tone. “Do you expect me to go to the council and tell them that you turned down a prince for someone whose family’s highest title is viscount?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand to forestall me, and I remain silent.
“You need not tell me that you like each other, as I am certain you were about to do,” he says. “As much as you may wish to deny it, that has no bearing on the choice of whom you marry. The important considerations are that the Leara family is of low rank; they have little in the way of money, lands, or influence; and, most importantly, you marrying him would gain nothing for Soeria. You need to marry someone who brings an alliance with them, preferably a powerful one. That person may or may not be Prince Arbois, but it is certainly not Tag Leara.”
“Are you so sure? Tag’s mother was born into a branch of the Zeteyoni royal family. I’m sure you know how haughty Mother’s parents are, and apparently Catherine was of high enough rank that they allowed her to be one of Mother’s companions. Maybe that’ll be enough for Uncle Zeikas to continue the alliance between our two nations.”
“Did he tell you this?” Father asks, his voice soft as silk once again. “Because if he did, and you believed him, then you’re not nearly as smart as you think you are.”
I bite down my own rising anger and try to remain civil. “No. Mother told me.”
Father sits there without saying anything for a while after that. His expression softens as his brows furrow. I get the feeling that he’s calculating something, weighing the possibilities before coming to a decision that could change my life forever. Meanwhile, I hold my breath and dare to hope. Please, Father …
Finally, after what feels like several eternities, he shakes his head. “No. We already have an alliance with Zeteyon, and it’s proven to be quite unreliable. If your uncle isn’t willing to keep to his obligations when his own sister is involved, I sincerely doubt he’ll change his tune should you marry someone whose connection to his family is tenuous at best. No, we must look elsewhere to ensure Soeria’s security.”
My heart falls farther with every word, and when he’s finished speaking, I feel as though it’s beating somewhere deep in the earth beneath me. Some of my distress must be showing on my face, because, for just a moment, Father’s strong facade cracks, and I see the weariness and pain that I’m certain has built up over the long years.
“Understand that I’m not doing this out of spite or malice, son,” he says quietly. I wouldn’t say his tone is gentle , exactly, but it’s certainly less severe than it was before. “Making difficult decisions like this one is my burden to bear, and it gives me no pleasure to see you this way. Whether you like it or not, you have a burden to bear too, a price to pay that others will never face. Be thankful that your burden isn’t greater.”
I feel empty, like I’ve used up all my strength fighting a battle I was doomed to lose. “What am I supposed to tell Tag?” It comes out as a whisper, barely audible.
Any gentleness in Father’s tone is gone in a flash. “What you tell him is no concern of mine. Although, perhaps you should tell him the truth: that the choice of who you marry matters not only to you, but to the entire country, and that the latter is by far the more important of the two.”
Part of me wants to argue with him, to convince him somehow that he’s wrong. Part of me wants to scream at him, to tell him that I’m not going to give up on Tag just because he thinks it’s what Soeria needs. Part of me wants to curl up in a ball and cry, to pretend this isn’t happening, that my worst nightmare isn’t coming true before my very eyes.
But I know that all of those would be pointless and might even make things worse. Instead, I just whisper, “Am I done here?”
He waves at the door, his attention already back to his work, and I hurry out of the room, trying desperately not to cry.