Chapter 18 #2
Caeryth set her cup down with trembling hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I’m sorry.” Her gaze stayed fixed on the table. “I didn’t mean…”
“Ye did,” Khaeric said, his voice cutting through the tension.
“But I thank ye for yer honesty. I would rather have yer honest contempt than false courtesy.” He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Caeryth with an intensity that made her shift.
“I’ve endured far worse than yer words, my lady.
And I would rather know where I stand wi’ my wife’s kin. ”
Caeryth flinched as if struck. More tears welled, but she blinked them back furiously. “You think I’m a shallow, spoiled girl who’s never faced hardship,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you don’t know what it’s like—”
“Dinnae I?” Khaeric cut her off. “Ye speak to me of hardship? Tell me, Lady Caeryth—have ye ever buried a brother wi’ yer own hands?”
Aeryn went still.
“Have ye ever stood in a field,” he went on, his tone still low, almost conversational, “countin’ the dead and wonderin’ if yer people would see another generation? Or if this—” he gestured vaguely to the stone walls around them “—was the last cradle yer kind would ever have?”
Caeryth swallowed. “I—no, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Have ye watched a man ye love die wi’ three human arrows in his chest,” Khaeric asked, “and known that if ye pull even one free, he’ll bleed out faster?” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “Have ye listened to yer kin be called ‘monster’ so often ye start to wonder if maybe they’re right?”
No sound emerged when Caeryth opened her mouth, only tears that traced silent lines down her flushed cheeks.
Khaeric shook his head, the motion small, tired.
“No,” he answered for her, though his tone held no mockery.
“Ye haven’t. And ancestors keep ye, I’d no’ wish any of it on ye.
” He leaned back, putting space between them.
“But understand this, Lady Caeryth, when ye speak of what I will face in Thiarra, ye’re no’ speakin’ from care. ”
Liraen watched the exchange with an unreadable expression, though Aeryn detected something like respect in the way her mother’s gaze lingered on Khaeric. Caeryth wiped tears with trembling fingers, her usual poise shattered. She seemed at a loss, her clever tongue silenced.
“If ye mean to warn me of cruelty, dinnae wield it in the same breath,” Khaeric said.
Caeryth nodded, with a slight dip of her chin that seemed to cost her tremendous effort. The tension had shifted to something fragile taking root where there had been only judgment.
“Perhaps we might start anew.” Liraen reached for the teapot, refilling their cups. The familiar ritual seemed to restore some normalcy to their gathering. “Tell me of your people’s birthing customs. I would know what to expect when my grandchild enters this world.”
Khaeric’s expression grew thoughtful. “The women who bear orc sons are honored. The birthin’ chamber is carved deep within the heart of the mountain. It lies near an underground hot spring that keeps the air warm and humid—good for both mother and child.”
Liraen leaned forward as Khaeric spoke, her diplomatic mask giving way to genuine curiosity. “And the father’s role?” she asked, setting her cup down.
“We remain nearby, but not within the chamber itself,” Khaeric said. “It is believed that our presence might... interfere with the mother’s connection to the mountain.” His eyes flicked to Aeryn. “Though traditions have begun to change in recent years.”
Liraen’s expression grew thoughtful, her slender fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “In Thiarra, we have our own traditions for birthing.” Her eyes met Aeryn’s. “The mother labors beneath the open sky, if the weather permits. We believe the starlight eases pain and brings blessing to the child.”
“Our midwives weave crowns of moonflowers and nightshade,” Liraen said, her voice taking on a lyrical quality that reminded Aeryn of the songs she’d heard in the sacred groves as a child.
“Births are attended by the mother’s female kin, particularly the grandmother.
We believe the child’s first moments should be spent surrounded by those who share their blood.
” She hesitated, her eyes meeting Aeryn’s.
“Would it be possible, perhaps, to blend our traditions? I would... I would like to be present when my grandchild enters this world.”
How many times had she imagined her mother saying something like that? How many nights had she lain awake wondering if Liraen would even care to meet her grandchild?
“I would like that very much,” she said, glancing at Khaeric.
The image took shape in her mind: herself laboring beneath stars while her mother wove flowers into her hair, Khaeric waiting nearby with his people’s blessings, the mountain and sky witnessing together what neither tradition alone could contain.
“I see no reason why both traditions cannae be honored,” he said. “Though I cannae promise the mountain will welcome elven birthin’ rituals. The stone has its own... preferences.”
“Perhaps the mountain and I might reach an understanding.”
Khaeric smiled, nodding. “The mountain has endured stranger negotiations. We’ll find a way to honor both traditions.”
Approval flickered across Liraen’s face before it returned to its usual serene mask. “Then it is settled. When the time comes, we will honor both traditions.”
When the meal finally ended, their mother rose and looked between her daughters.
“Since we are agreed on honoring both traditions,” she said, voice smooth again but no less firm, “we will also honor truth. Caeryth, if you are to speak so confidently of what Khaeric will face in Thiarra, you will learn more of his people.”
Caeryth’s head snapped up. “Mother—” But she dipped her head in a stiff nod. “As you wish.”
Khaeric said nothing, but his thumb pressed once more against Aeryn’s palm beneath the table.
By the time the second bell rang, Aeryn found her sister waiting in the corridor, jaw set, eyes a little too bright. “Well?” Caeryth demanded. “If I am to be paraded before your scholar, I suppose I mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Aeryn bit back a smile. For all her complaining, Caeryth hadn’t tried to refuse. That, in its own small way, was progress.
“This is ridiculous,” Caeryth said as they climbed toward the Great Library. “Mother can’t truly expect me to sit at the feet of an orc and be lectured like a wayward novice.”
“She can,” Aeryn said. “And she does. You heard her.”
Caeryth’s mouth tightened. “I suppose this is my penance.”
“It’s not penance,” Aeryn said, though part of her thought it wasn’t entirely unearned. “It’s what you would have demanded of any courtier spouting ignorance about the Silver Bough or of the Unified Crown.”
Her sister’s steps faltered. “I am not ignorant.”
Aeryn shot her a look as they stepped through the archway of the library.
Caeryth’s steps slowed as soon as she spotted Mael leaning over a stack of rune tablets, one hand braced on the table, the other tapping a quill against his mouth in thought.
He looked up at the sound of their approach.
“A welcome surprise. Her Highness has returned. I confess, I half-expected ye’d sworn an oath never to enter my hall again. ”
Caeryth lifted her chin. “Mother has decided I require...” Her tone was neutral. “Educational improvement. Apparently, my ignorance reflects poorly on the family name.”
“Ah.” Mael nodded. “Maternal coercion. The most ancient form of diplomacy.”
Aeryn stifled a laugh. Caeryth did not laugh as she approached the table. “I suppose forced education is preferable to forced conversation with the court. Though only marginally.”
Aeryn watched the exchange between Mael and her sister.
Caeryth had edged closer to the scholar, her posture softened in a way Aeryn didn’t remember.
When had that changed? She searched her memory for the day Caeryth sat in on her lesson, but Aeryn had been too absorbed in the material—and in Khaeric—to notice.
The only thing she could recall was Mael’s interest in Caeryth, but… most men were.
“Well,” Aeryn said, moving to leave, “I should leave you to your studies, Caeryth.”
“Wait.” Caeryth’s hand shot out to grasp Aeryn’s sleeve, but she quickly loosened her hold and arranged her face into careful indifference. “I mean, perhaps you should stay. Mother would expect proper—that is, she’d want to ensure—well, you know how she is about protocol and—”
Aeryn arched an eyebrow, almost laughing. “Supervise?”
Caeryth’s cheeks flushed as she stepped back. “I only meant that Mother would expect proper decorum to be maintained.”
Mael’s mouth twitched, his eyes brightening with undisguised amusement. “Ah, the famous court decorum. Tell me, Yer Highness, do ye always lie so poorly, or is it a special talent ye reserve for scholars?”
“I beg your pardon?” Caeryth’s mouth fell open, shock plain on her face.
“No need.” Mael waved a dismissive hand, his smile widening. “I assure ye both,” he leaned back in his chair, “that Her Highness’s virtue is quite safe in the library. Books rarely compromise a lady’s reputation, though they do expand her mind, which some consider equally dangerous.”
“Thank you, Mael. And Caeryth, we’ve both been alone and unsupervised with teachers since we were children.
” Aeryn tilted her head, studying her sister’s flushed face with growing curiosity.
“Besides, Mael is one of the most respected scholars in the mountain. I’m certain he’ll maintain all proper decorum. ”
“Of course. I was merely being cautious. Court protocol exists for a reason, even if you find such considerations... beneath notice,” Caeryth said.
“Cautious,” Mael repeated, his voice rich with amusement. “An admirable quality in a princess. Though perhaps less useful when studyin’ history.” He gestured toward the chair beside him. “History requires a certain... boldness of thought.”
“I should go. Khaeric and I planned to meet with Korrath and Mother about our journey to Thiarra,” Aeryn said.
Caeryth looked away. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”
“I’ll ensure Her Highness receives a thorough education on orcish customs,” Mael said.
Aeryn studied her sister with growing fascination.
This wasn’t the hostile woman who’d sneered through breakfast, or even the reluctant student who’d agreed to lessons under maternal command; her shoulders had lost their rigid defensive line, and when she looked at Mael, there was none of the careful distance she maintained with other orcs.