29. Idrilia
IDRILIA
“Shared blood creates a bond. Shared burdens strengthen it.”
—Elurian proverb
"Betrothed? You mean that you received a letter of intent? A request for an official visit? You can't be betrothed."
I was stunned. Royal engagements were often negotiated in secret, but it usually wasn’t well-guarded. They took time, care, and the leaking of carefully curated tidbits to the press before the official announcement was made at the Catonian annual ball.
"No," Cardilia said. "I mean, yes. Well, some items are still being negotiated, but it's almost a done deal."
"Who's the lucky prince?"
Cardilia straightened. "Prince Arlen of Catonia."
My eyes went wide, and I leaned back in my chair. "How did Mother pull that one off?"
Arlen of Catonia was the crown prince. The heir to the most powerful province in the Federation, the eldest son of King Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fourth, the Head of the Council, and the one who would one day rule over the entire Elurian Federation, because a Tekumuton was always the Head of the Council.
Arlen Tekumuton was so far above the reach of Cardilia of Tarina that I could not imagine what our mother had done to snag him for my sister. It couldn't be anything aboveboard. Did she have some dirt on King Tekumuton and was blackmailing him into an alliance by marriage?
She sure didn't have any resources to tempt him with other than the best goat cheese in the Federation, and I was sure that the king wouldn't give his most valuable marriage alliance in exchange for cheese, no matter how delicious it was.
"How did Mother manage to do that? We are a small, poor province whose only claims to fame are goat cheese and the border we share with Elucia.
Catonia doesn't look at us. Catonia has never looked at us.
Crown princes of Catonia marry daughters of Vandaris and Heldor and Atheria, they marry into wealth and armies and trade, they do not marry the heir of a province that exports cheese and wool and lags twenty years behind Catonia's industry.
Mother must have schemed and plotted and threatened people with secrets I don't want to know about, because there is no other way that Tarina lands the crown prince of Catonia for its heir.
This is the greatest thing that has happened to this court in centuries.
She must be ecstatic. I bet she's planning a celebration that will bankrupt us. "
I looked at my sister, expecting a secretive satisfied grin, and found instead a woman hiding behind a tall glass of iced tea. She was holding it in front of her face, pretending to sip it but in fact using it to hide her face behind it.
"Why do you look like you're about to be sick? Aren't you happy?"
She set the cup down with exaggerated care. "Arlen isn't the crown prince anymore."
I stilled.
"What do you mean? Why was he demoted? Did he abdicate?"
My mind was racing with possible scenarios. Not every prince and princess had what it took to rule, of which I was the prime example, but I'd seen Arlen in those damn annual balls all courts had to attend, and he looked like he'd been born to be king.
Well, he had been. But it took more than blood.
"He was gravely injured," Cardilia said.
"There was an attack or an accident, I don't know exactly, the Catonian court has been ferociously careful about what they'll put in writing, and what they'll say out loud is even less.
All I've been told is that the prince was badly hurt while protecting his father.
He's no longer considered fit to inherit, and the succession will pass to one of his brothers.
" She drew a shaking breath. "That's how I landed Arlen of Catonia.
With me, he will still be royalty, the husband of a queen, and he'll be far away from Catonia and the public eye.
They approached Mother with the proposal, and she accepted it with both hands. "
The whole thing needed to be turned around in my head.
This wasn't Mother's masterstroke. It was about a damaged prince, set aside from his own throne, being quietly married off and shipped to the smallest, most remote, most forgettable province in the Federation, because we were exactly the kind of nowhere a great house would send the son it would rather the world stopped looking at.
And naturally, Mother had said yes. A blood-tie to Catonia, by any means, was more than Tarina could ever have dreamed of, and our mother would have sacrificed a limb for it and thanked them for the privilege.
"It's still an extraordinary match for us," Cardilia continued. "A direct tie to Catonia. Tarina will never want for Catonian goodwill again."
I shook my head. "Were you even told what state he is in? What if he's dying and this alliance dies with him? Maybe he didn't get hurt protecting the king but is suffering from a terminal disease?"
"Arlen is not dying," she said without much conviction, which meant that the thought had crossed her mind.
"He'll need care and patience, and I can give him that.
And who's to say he won't recover? If he does, they might reconsider him for the crown, and then I'd be...
" She stopped, hearing it, and her mouth twisted.
"I'd be Queen of Catonia and Lotian will be King of Tarina. "
Yeah, and they would also find a way to reach the fabled Dolis. Both were equally as likely.
"Cardi." I sat down across from her and made my voice as even as I could. "You have to find out what's wrong with him before you sign the agreement. You can't go into this blind."
"They said he needs time to recuperate. That means it's not something terminal. That's all I know."
"What if he's blind? What if he's lost limbs? What if his face was burned off, what if he can't speak, what if he's not right in the head? If they are not willing to tell his bride what's wrong with him, then it's probably something really bad."
"I saw him on television a few days ago.
The Catonian court holds those monthly televised audiences, and Arlen was there, seated at the king's right hand the way the heir always is.
" She lifted her chin, and a little of the old certainty came back into her.
"He looked fine. His face was intact, as handsome as ever, just a little thinner, a little diminished. "
"Did he speak?"
"Yes, and he wasn't missing eyes or hands. He just looked like he'd been through a rough time. Not like someone who was at death's door."
If he looked intact but sickly, my terminal-disease hypothesis was more likely. It also aligned with why they were sending him far away, so he could die in peace without reporters hunting him.
"It's also possible that he simply decided he didn't want the crown and used the injury as his way out. Men have done stranger things to escape a throne." She picked up her tea again. "It's nothing fatal. I'll make it work. The alliance is worth a great deal more than my preferences."
I studied her, my polished, dutiful sister, who had been groomed since the cradle to be the next Queen of Tarina and had accepted her birthright with grace and dedication.
"Do you even like Arlen?" I asked.
She blinked, as if the question belonged in a category she hadn't considered. "Like him? I barely know him."
"But you've met him. We both have. Setting aside the alliance and the goodwill and what Mother wants, is he a man you could be glad to wake up beside each morning? Have you ever had a single feeling about Arlen as a man? Not just the crown prince?"
"I never thought about him at all," she admitted.
"Why would I? He was the crown prince of Catonia.
He was so out of my reach that there was no point.
I met him the same way you did, in the Catonian annual balls.
We said hello, bowed to each other, and moved on.
He has never even asked me to dance, and he'd asked many of the other princesses.
I guess he was also scoping out only those who could one day be his potential brides.
He wasn't wasting time on those who would never be offered to him.
" She turned the cold glass in her hands.
"I remember thinking that he was handsome and charming and wondering whether the charm was real.
" She smiled. "Let's focus on what he's not.
He's not hideous, he's not mean, and he's not empty-headed. "
I chuckled. "You mean like Gavon?"
"Gavon didn't even cross my mind. There are worse examples."
"Indeed." Taking a page from Cardilia's book, I lifted my barely touched glass of tea and sipped to hide my face from her.
A wave of pity washed over me, and I didn't know who it was for more.
For poor Arlen, who had thrown himself into harm's way for his father and been rewarded by being denied his birthright and parceled off to the back of beyond like a piece of equipment that had finished its useful life.
For my sister, who was being handed a broken man and told to be grateful, chosen not because anyone wanted her but because she was the respectable place to hide him, the consolation wife for the consolation prince.
It was so cruel to be chosen because the shining thing was no longer shiny enough and needed somewhere quiet to be retired.
"You deserve better than this," I said quietly.
She looked at me with surprise. "There is no better.
" She said it without bitterness, which was the worst part.
"Tarina got lucky because of the prince's misfortune, and for that I'm sorry.
I will try to make him as comfortable as possible and restore him to health as much as I can.
" She drank her tea, and when she lowered the glass, her face had reassembled itself into its usual serene expression, the heir again, the crack sealed over.
"I just needed to tell someone whom I trusted to keep it a secret.
" She let out a breath. "Marriage is a big step, even when it's arranged, and I wanted to share the news with you. "
Apparently, Cardilia and I were very different people. I could never have accepted this deal with not only grace but also optimism. She was a better woman than I was, a better princess for sure.
"I hope you will find happiness with Arlen, or at least contentment. You both deserve it."
Nodding, she rose and smoothed her skirts. "Thank you for listening, and for not judging."
"What is there to judge?" I stood up and pulled her into a gentle hug. "You are an outstanding woman, Cardilia. I'm so proud of you."
She leaned away. "Proud of me for accepting a marriage you were against a moment ago?"
"You are selfless. You are sacrificing your happiness for Tarina, for the family, and you are not even bitter about it. I don't think I could be so gracious."
She smiled. "I'm not sacrificing anything because it was never mine to sacrifice. I always knew I would marry the man who would benefit Tarina the most and not the one who would make me happy. In fact, I'm relieved that it's Arlen and not a buffoon like Prince Dorsy of Oranida."
I shivered. "Thankfully, Dorsy was never on Mother's list. She wouldn't be that cruel."
Cardilia lifted a brow. "Are you sure of that? Has she shown you her list?"
"No, did she show it to you?"
"Of course not." Cardilia leaned to kiss my cheek, and then she was gone, and I remained standing in the same spot she'd left me, feeling a shameful flicker of relief beneath the pity.
Thank Elurion that it wasn't me.
I was the third child of the queen of a poor province, and the odds of me ever becoming queen were nearly nonexistent.
I had almost no value at a negotiating table, and not for the first time, I was grateful for it.
Whatever games the seventeen courts were playing, and whatever alliances were being forged, chances were that they would never reach down as far as me.
I could go on with my research, keep Gavon as my paramour, or replace him with another.
It was freedom, and I was so thankful for it.
Ursa walked in and started to gather the plates of fruit that were still almost as full as when she'd brought them out.
"Tell me something, Ursa." I kept my voice light and my expression impassive, which wasn't easy because Ursa was very good at reading faces. "Have you heard any new gossip? Has my mother been receiving unusual guests lately? Both my mother and sister seem troubled and excited in equal measures."
Ursa straightened, the tray balanced on one hip.
"You are correct about the queen and Princess Cardilia being on edge lately.
And come to think of it, the staff noticed that the queen was having more private meetings than usual, and I heard of at least two couriers arriving with confidential correspondence.
" She lowered her voice, though we were alone.
"They insisted on handing the letters directly to the queen. "
"Were they by any chance from Catonia?"
Ursa shrugged. "They wore plain clothing.
But given all the brouhaha going on with the Catonian ball, I wouldn't be surprised if they were sent by King Tekumuton.
" Ursa's mouth curved knowingly. "If you ask for my opinion, I'd say that there's an engagement being arranged.
The secrecy, the queen's agitation, and Princess Cardilia's anxiety.
" She tilted her head. "Maybe it is one of the younger princes of some great house, someone who has been naughty and needs to be hidden in our remote province. "