Chapter Three #2
My legs felt weak, and I sat heavily back in my chair. I don’t think Lord Ashe meant to insult me or to call me grotesque, but his words hurt, nonetheless. Of course, I was used to these tiny cuts that did not wound but stung. I said nothing.
“We should hide Mara until the Zulenii prince departs,” my mother said. “If he is kept confined in the castle, he will have no way of knowing about her. We force him to choose between one of the other five.”
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t help but feel shocked by what my mother had said.
The idea was so blatantly dishonorable, I was afraid my father would banish her on the spot.
Banishment was tantamount to death in Earsleh.
But the king merely smiled at his former wife.
“I understand your impulse, Aine. I too want to protect Mara.”
He gave me a loving smile, and I looked from my father to my mother, who was also smiling at me.
I was their daughter, and I knew they loved me, but this was something more.
I glanced at Lord Ashe. The lines on either side of his mouth carved deep furrows of worry.
I suddenly wondered why I was the only princess in this meeting.
“As easy as it would be to deceive the prince, our own people will wonder where she is and will know we have hidden her away. Such an act would be seen as deeply dishonorable.”
I nodded. Not only would hiding me be seen as dishonorable, the act was dishonorable. I would not agree to it unless my father ordered me to hide.
My mother sighed heavily. “Yes, yes. Give them a reason to question one act and they question everything.” She rolled her eyes.
The words seemed rote, as though she’d said them many times.
I was fascinated. I rarely saw my father and mother together, but now I understood the sort of relationship they must have shared.
My father confided in her and trusted her opinions.
And in her opinion, the people of Earsleh were to be kept ignorant.
But of what? I trembled as the next question flitted through my mind.
I hesitated to ask it, but I must. If I was mistaken—and I must be mistaken—only these three would know my shame.
“Sire?” I leaned forward. “What is so important about me? Why am I here and being told all this information?”
Papa’s smile widened, and he cut his eyes to his Lord High Council. “You see, Ashe? I always tell you she is the cleverest of my children. Look at all the incisive queries she has made tonight, all the details she has put together.”
Lord Ashe made a non-committal sound. “She might be too clever for her own good,” he muttered.
My father shrugged. “It will serve her well one day, and until that day, you will keep all we have spoken of tonight in confidence, won’t you, Mara?”
“Of course.” Who would believe me if I told them?
The idea that my father had sent exploratory missions years ago and knew the Zulenii had survived long before we received word of them now seemed like a child’s bedtime story.
A quarter hour ago, I had still been trying to come to terms with the knowledge that my people were not the only ones who survived the red vein virus contagion.
Now I felt as though I were a pair of dice, dropped in a cup, shaken relentlessly, then tossed on the hard ground to see which side landed face up.
“I know I can trust you,” my father said. “Over the years we have tested your loyalty, haven’t we, Ashe?”
“Yes, sire.”
My mother reached for my hand, and I pressed mine over her small cold one. She was shaking.
“You have honor, a quick mind, and the heart of a warrior,” my father continued. “This is why I have written a proclamation, witnessed by my most trusted advisors, that when I am gone, you are next in the line of succession. Mara, I have declared you my heir.”
I jolted and shook my head. Surely, I had misheard. “I don’t understand, sire.”
“I know this is a shock, Mara,” my mother said, “but you were chosen years ago.”
“Me?” I released her hand and pressed my fist to my thundering heart. “But why? I mean, I am honored.” Was I honored? Suddenly, I felt a weight on my shoulders. I’d always felt the import of being a royal princess, but this burden was far heavier.
“No doubt you expected Folit to be the heir,” my father said. Folit was his first-born, a man in his mid-forties, who my father had sired when he’d been barely a man. Folit’s eldest child was about my own age, and he’d always seemed more like an uncle than a half-brother.
“Folit is a man,” I said simply. The rulers of Earsleh had always been men.
“There is a time every tradition must come to an end,” my father said.
“Folit is strong and reliable. He can be trusted on patrol and does his duty, but ruling a kingdom takes more than strength, Mara. It takes intelligence, strength, and cunning. Of all my children, you are the only one in which I see the capacity for cunning that will be required.”
Cunning was not a word I heard used much in Earsleh. I associated it with sneakiness and lying, negative traits I did not want to be connected to.
“Mara must be protected,” my mother said. “If we cannot hide her then how do we keep her safe? Gaz will be of no use in the arena.”
I felt another jolt pierce through me. Gaz? Gaz! So my father—or perhaps my mother or perhaps both—had ordered Gaz to protect me. And Gaz had lied. He’d lied so easily and smoothly. Everyone knew lying was highly dishonorable.
“We will face that challenge if we must,” Lord Ashe said. “For now, we hope Lady Mara is not to the Zulenii’s liking.”
My father yawned. “We will speak of this more when the Zulenii is lying in a pool of his own blood on the dirt of the arena. For now, we keep all of this between us.” His eyes, so like mine, rested on my face.
I nodded my agreement. Even if I wanted to tell someone, what would I say?
I am the heir to Earsleh? I didn’t believe it myself.
***
MY HEAD WAS SPINNING, my mind turning over a thousand different thoughts as I followed my mother out of the castle.
Shades of blue streaked the sky along with various pinks and oranges.
A few merchants rolled their carts toward the market, covering sleepy yawns.
In another hour, the guards at the gate would open it to the farmers wanting to sell their fruits and vegetables.
I’d always loved going to the market, especially when I’d been away on patrol.
But there would be no time for frivolities today.
My mother turned toward the eastern side of the castle courtyard.
We called it a courtyard, but it was more of a small city enclosed within the protection of the castle walls and watched over by the castle itself, set high on the hill.
Shops and houses had been built inside the courtyard and we wound between them, following a rather haphazard path of streets with informal names like Cloth Row or Market Square.
The castle courtyard itself was made up of four general areas—West Tower, East Tower, the Gates, and Shadow Court.
The royal retinue who did not live in the castle lived in Shadow Court, so called because it was closest to the castle and said to be in its shadow.
My mother, however, had chosen to live in an airy home in East Tower.
She didn’t like being too close to the courtiers, who she said schemed all the time for favors from the king.
They too might be called cunning. If they had known the secret I now harbored, their obsequiousness would have been unbearable.
Thank the gods I did not see those living in Shadow Court often.
My mother knew she wasn’t well-liked among the staunchest loyalists, many of whom seemed to take it as a personal affront that she had been unfaithful to the king.
She preferred to live among the ordinary workers, who were a little in awe of her status as a former queen of Earsleh.
If my mother had a flaw, that weakness was vanity.
She needed to feel special and chosen. I didn’t think it was only my so-called cleverness that had led to me being chosen as heir.
My mother had probably whispered in my father’s ear to appoint me heir for years.
“I meant what I said earlier.” My mother’s hair swung around as she turned her head to look at me.
I blinked at her. She had said so many things, and I couldn’t begin to sort through them, not with my head scrambled like it was.
“I said you need to rest, remember? Rest and then go to the training fields and practice your hand-to-hand.”
The training fields was the last place I wanted to go.
“I’ve just come from a month on patrol. All I’ve done is practice fighting.
” I’d been able to put thoughts of the child I’d killed aside when I was worried about why the king called Finnrey and me back and what might be waiting for us at home.
But even with all that had been revealed tonight, the mention of battle caused my thoughts to return to the child—his small lips pulling back in a hiss, his chubby arms reaching for me, the sound of my skullcrusher—
No. I would not allow myself to remember that.
“Fighting with your skullcrusher is one thing. Fighting a man stronger than you with only your wits is another thing entirely.”
We were nearing East Tower now, and she nodded to a woman shaking a rug out in her doorway and her husband who was lounging near the laundry hanging from a line that stretched to the side of a neighboring house.
All the houses inside the castle walls were built close together.
It was partly for protection and partly to make the most of the limited space.
Sometimes it annoyed me to live so close to so many others, but after being on patrol, I appreciated the community.
After all, that was what I’d been out there protecting. The people.
My people?