Chapter 16 Lilias

Lilias

OUR DEAR HUSBANDS

“Apparently, they’d like to meet you,” Anura says.

I frown, then put down the strip of silk I’ve been stabbing with a needle. My needlepoint is atrocious, but boredom will drive a woman to attempt many ill-advised hobbies.

“The other wives?” I ask.

Anura nods. “They meet once a week. Acelina, Basili, and Dulcia.”

I recognize the names; they’re the wives of King Malrik’s three eldest sons. Anura has been filling me in on all the castle gossip, and I’m thankful for her steady, calm presence in a way that I’ve been trying and failing to properly express for the past six days.

“Should I go?” I ask.

Anura sits down on the chair opposite mine.

“I think so,” she says. “You could leave them waiting, try to build some sense of anticipation, but then again, they could be offended if you refuse.”

My hands twist together in my lap. “What do you think they want?” I ask.

Anura tilts her head to the side. “Acelina is married to the eldest son, Girart. He’s been posted at the border for years, so she’s basically acting queen, but apparently, she doesn’t want her children anywhere near the castle. Basili’s husband is Syvan, and he’s—”

Her expression darkens as she lowers her voice. I glance guiltily at the massive mirror on the wall. I haven’t told her yet that my husband believes the mirror is a window.

“He’s not a nice person,” Anura finishes, in a voice that’s almost a whisper. “I don’t think she wants anything but to be left alone. And Dulcia,” she continues, “is just desperately bored. Also, she’s having an affair with one of the guards.”

“Gods above, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I say.

“Without me?” Anura smiles. “You would have run off with the horses years ago.”

I laugh. Anura, my brother, and I were inseparable as children, running wild through the entire castle. In a strange way, being trapped in this massive castle with no other friends reminds me of those years, when it was the three of us against the world.

I toss my hopeless needlepoint onto the table and come to my feet.

“Well, lead the way,” I announce. “And thank you.”

Anura takes my hand and grins. Some part of me wants to ask her if she’s heard anything from my brother, but I don’t want to ruin the smile on her face, so I keep that question locked inside my chest. I’m sure visiting his sister in Vsenrog isn’t the highest thing on his list of priorities, and it’s not like I’ve uncovered any information for him.

I still don’t have the slightest idea what Vsenrog wants from me, or from the kingdom of Marion.

Anura leads me up several flights of stairs and into a wing of the fourth floor that I haven’t seen before.

From the number of guards we pass, I assume this is close to King Malrik’s personal quarters, which would make sense if Acelina is the acting queen.

I try to remember what happened to the actual queen, Malrik’s wife and the mother of those four sons, but all I can come up with is some rumor about poison. I’ll have to ask Anura.

Anura stops before a closed door, clears her throat, and knocks. I lock my fingers together in front of my waist. The door opens, and a young woman wearing a white servant’s dress bows.

My mouth falls open. The room is massive, with a sweeping view of the city and fields beyond the castle.

Candles sparkle from mirrored lamps on the walls, and the floor is covered with low tables and plush cushions.

Servants stand along the walls while three elegantly dressed women sit on the cushions.

“Oh, gods above,” the tallest one declares. “It’s Mrs. Snake!”

I smile sweetly as the three women giggle. A curvaceous blonde comes to her feet and gestures at the cushions.

“Come in, come in,” she says. “You can ignore Dulcia. She’s always like that!”

The women giggle again as I approach. There’s a low table spread between them that’s filled with little plates of cookies and delicate teacups. The blonde smiles at me as I settle onto the cushions.

“I’m Acelina,” the blonde says, grinning as she reaches across the table to pour a cup of tea. “That’s Dulcia, and the quiet one here is Basili.”

Dulcia and Basili both nod at me as Acelina lifts the teapot. A delicate, floral scent rises from the steam floating away from the cups. Acelina holds the cup and saucer out to me. I take it with a nod that I hope is polite enough for the acting queen.

“Well,” Acelina says, watching me over the lip of her cup like we’re sharing some sort of secret, “I do hope you’ve recovered from your wedding night.”

My cheeks burn. I lift the cup to my mouth to avoid having to answer.

“The snake probably tied you into knots,” Dulcia declares as she reaches for a cookie. “Gods know that man made me squeal like a pig.”

The three of them laugh. I gulp another mouthful of tea, then wince as it burns my throat.

Alia’s words echo inside my skull; lots of people can ride Zarek.

Is screwing beautiful noblewomen part of my husband’s official royal duties, I wonder bitterly, or is that just one of the perks of living in the castle?

I set the teacup down. It makes a delicate ping as it meets the saucer. I watch the women laugh and wonder if there’s anyone in this entire castle my husband hasn’t fucked yet. Other than me, of course.

“Seriously, though,” Acelina says with a delicate frown. “I know it can be difficult, coming here. Especially leaving your father, knowing he doesn’t have much time left.”

I frown. I wouldn’t say leaving my father was the hardest part of coming here. And why wouldn’t he have much time left?

“How is he holding up?” Acelina continues. “It must have been hard, not having him at the wedding. At least you looked gorgeous.”

“I— Thank you,” I stammer, swallowing hard. I hadn’t realized Acelina was at the wedding. “I mean, yes. It was. Hard.”

“It’s so horrible to watch your parents age,” Dulcia adds, as if that has anything to do with this conversation. “Really, we’re sorry his health is failing.”

I blink. The three women are watching me with very serious faces from behind a haze of steam rising from their teacups. Morning sun slants through the windows behind them. Those windows must open to the garden, because birdsong threads its way through this strange conversation.

I think of the last time I saw my father. He came out on horseback to escort the procession of Vsenrog guards to the front gates of the city. His cheeks were red in the cool morning air, and his two ceremonial swords flashed in the thick afternoon light.

He didn’t stop to embrace me. I didn’t expect him to, but still, it would have been nice to have some sort of goodbye.

Especially since Elrick wasn’t there. The last I saw of him was my father shaking the hand of the leader of the Vsenrog troops before I slipped through the city gates and left Marion forever.

He looked just like he’d always looked; strong, regal, and cold.

I open my mouth, then close it. Some strange whisper of intuition tells me not to disagree with the acting queen in such a public setting.

“My father didn’t attend my wedding either,” a soft voice whispers.

It takes me a moment to recognize the one who spoke. It’s Basili, the wife of the son Anura described as not a nice person. She keeps her dark eyes on the table, and there’s something about the way she holds her shoulders that makes me think she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.

Dulcia snorts. “I wish my family hadn’t witnessed mine,” she mutters. “Gods, I don’t think I’m ever going to get over that humiliation. Dear Prince Jak cried so hard I thought he was having a seizure. At least he had the decency to disappear the next day.”

Acelina laughs. It’s a merry, ringing laugh, the kind that can make an entire room smile. She laughs like a queen.

“To our dear husbands,” Acelina declares, raising her teacup in the morning sun. “Long may they remain at their distant posts.”

The women raise their cups. Something sharp flashes in Basili’s expression, and I wonder if this is a joke for her. Or for any of them. Acelina raises an eyebrow at me, and I lift my cup as well.

Our delicate teacups clink together. I watch Basili shrink in on herself as she lowers her cup, and a strange sense of resolve tightens in my chest.

That’s not going to happen to me, damn it.

I’m not going to let this place crush me.

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