Destiny: Child of the Sky

63

Her workout at the lists that morning had been particularly tiring, and Rhapsody had embraced her bath with thankfulness. She came into her bedchamber, refreshed and dressed in one of the simple, artful gowns the Lirin seamstresses had fashioned for her. The clothing was a pleasure to wear, causing the body to feel unrestricted and light, and the color matched her eyes perfectly.

With a deep sigh she fell back onto the bed and stared up at the graceful engilder trees that served as bedposts, to their intertwined branches that served to form the canopy, lacy leaves casting sunlit shadows in dancing patterns on the bed and over her. The fire roared on the hearth, driving the chill from the room and warming the trees, keeping them in a false state of summer, even in winter.

In the courtyard below she heard the echoing sounds of distant commotion, and she rose and moved to the window, wiping away the frost and looking to see what was happening. Far off at the edge of the palace walls she could see amid a vast number of Lirin guards a large cavalcade of visitors forming an uneven line. The line swelled and grew larger as more joined, jostling and laughing, spiced with the occasional sound of argumentative confrontation. Their noise was unmuffled by the cold; steaming vapors rose from the distant conversations.

Rhapsody drew a soft cloak around herself, pulled on her boots, and left her chambers, seeking Rial, now her viceroy and chief advisor. Over the short time of her reign she had come to rely on him almost exclusively to explain the intricacies of the court, and advise her in matters of state. She was confident he would know what was going on.

She found him near the wall, very close to the convocation, watching grimly as guards and palace clerks catalogued the visitors and the items they seemed, without exception, to have brought with them. She slipped up next to him and touched him on the sleeve.

“Rial, what on Earth is going on?”

Rial turned to her and quickly took her arm, steering her hurriedly away from the crowd. They walked until they came to the curved wall of the guard tower. When they were out of sight of the throng he took her hand and kissed it.

“Good morning, m’lady.” He smiled down at her, his elderly face wrinkling into the kind expression Rhapsody had grown fond of. “I thought you were away on the practice fields.” His breath formed an icy cloud in the air between them.

“I was, but there’s only so much physical abuse I can take; Hiledraithe and Kelstrom took particular pleasure in beating me into submission today. What’s happening? Who are these people?”

-

Rial sighed. “Suitors, Your Majesty.”

“Suitors? Suitors for whom? I thought you told me that the Lirin did not have a marriage lottery, that women were free to choose their own mates.”

“They are, Your Majesty. These men are suing for your hand, or they are emissaries of lords who are.”

Rhapsody walked to the edge of the tower and peeked around. The line had grown even fuller, and the boisterous sounds were becoming deafening. “You must be joking,” she said, staring at the crowd. “There are scores of them.”

“Hundreds, actually, I would guess. I am very sorry, m’lady. I had hoped to spare you the sight of them.”

Rhapsody’s face clouded over in dismay. “I don’t understand, Rial; why are they here, on such a cold day especially? I didn’t say I was seeking a suitor, did I?”

Rial offered her his arm; as she took it he led her back to the palace. “No, Rhapsody, but they are insidious. Normally within the first year we would have expected to see some of them, seeking to ally themselves with Tyrian by means of a marriage of state. Usually the first to arrive are the lords of the elder Lirin houses, since they have the early word when a new monarch is crowned; it was thus with Queen Terrell in the old times.

“My father was a page in those days and he described the scene to me often. Apparently a dozen or so of them came to the palace wall and waited all night after her coronation. The place was abuzz with excitement for days. “That, however, cannot begin to compare to this. Many more of them out there are not Lirin. They are regents of other lands, some as far away as the Hintervold; undoubtedly they are looking to bind their kingdoms to yours. But if you would permit me to guess, I would say that word of you has spread for other reasons. I think it has more to do with you personally than with a desire to rule over Tyrian.”

“What do you mean? None of these people know me; at least I don’t see anyone I recognize.”

Rial chucked. He was becoming used to her view of herself, and it amused him. “I think it’s possible that there are some things about you that might cause the word to spread faster than it normally would.”

Rhapsody shuddered. “What are they bringing with them? Is it a bride-price?”

“Not exactly. They are gifts of state, similar to the others that came upon your coronation, but of greater worth. Traditionally, when you choose a mate, his gift is put on display in the Great Hall as a means of announcement. The others become part of your treasury, and Tyrian’s. So you can imagine the competition that exists, trying to assure that a gift will suitably impress you, and will showcase the wealth of the suitor’s lands, and his personal taste, to their best advantages.”

Rhapsody’s face was becoming somber. “Return them, please, Rial, and send these men away. I don’t want to entertain any suitors at this time.”

As they entered the palace rotunda Rial stopped and took both of her hands, looking seriously into her face. “I’d advise against that, Your Majesty.” he said gently, trying not to upset her. “It would be perceived as a great insult. A better way is to accept the gifts and catalogue the requests, as the clerks are doing. Then they will return to their lands and await your invitation to those whose courtship you are willing to entertain. This way your desires can be accommodated, and the army will only have to fend off one or so at a time if they should become impatient.”

Even in the light of the roaring flames of the great hearth Rial could see her face go pale. “What do you mean? Are you saying they might attack Tyrian if I don’t accept suit?”

Rial stopped a page as she ran by. “Bring Her Majesty some cider, please,” he said; the girl nodded and left. He brought the queen closer to the fire and sat with her on the wide bench before the hearth.

“It’s always possible that, until you choose to marry and remove the possibility for other alliances, some of the regents will try and test your resolve by means offeree. Do not worry, m’lady. This is unlikely, at least for a while, and the Lirin army, now that you have united all the factions, is a match for all of them.

“You not only have the loyalty of the soldiers, you have their hearts as well, and they will gladly protect your right to choose your time and your mate. Tyrian is a nightmare for invaders, and the casualties on their side will far outstrip our own. Someone will need to have a serious desire to make an issue of it before they will attempt to broach the forest. So please don’t let it trouble you. Take your time; it’s an important decision, and one I mean to see that you are able to make in peace.” The page returned with a heavy goblet and offered it to her. Rhapsody accepted it numbly.

With a polite gesture Rial dismissed the page, then looked into the face of the queen. He watched, fascinated, as the unguarded luster in her eyes receded and her face hardened into a resolute mask. She lifted the goblet and took a sip.

“I will follow your guidance, as always, Rial,” she said steadily. “When you have a chance, please send a messenger to my offices. I have a missive I need to send.” v_ hat was a marvelous meal,” Anborn said, finishing the last of his wine and setting the goblet on the table. He cast a glance around the balcony at the bare, glistening trees that rose above the ornately carved railing. The day was brisk, but dining outside on the balcony had been pleasant, a refreshing change from the heavy smoke of the winter fires.

He was glad that he had responded in such a timely fashion to Rhapsody’s invitation. Generally he made the issuers of such requests wait, just to be obnoxious. But he was pleased to have a chance to see her alone and assess her health and state of mind, which had been impossible to do at her coronation. She seemed much better than he could have imagined she would be after her experience in Sorbold and the forest, but then, she had been to the Rowans, and had undoubtedly passed far more time there than the rest of the world had marked.

When she had greeted him she was wearing the diadem, and he was fascinated to see it hovering above her head, whirling in a blazing halo of tiny starlike gems, transformed, it seemed, into glistening points of light. Once they had been left alone, however, she had removed it, and now was crowned only by her own resplendent hair, braided in the intricate patterns that none but skilled Lirin hands could weave. She was splendid lunchtime company, entertaining him with amusing stories and laughing unabashedly at his rude jokes. Even so, there was a reserve about her that he couldn’t quite pinpoint; it was as if a piece of her were missing.

When the meal was finished she leaned forward, fixing him with as direct a look as he had ever seen.

“I was wondering if we might discuss something with the understanding that it’s theoretical; that I’m proffering ideas to gauge your thoughts, but that neither of us is bound in any way by the discussion.”

Anborn wiped his mouth with the linen napkin and laid it, folded, beside his plate. “Of course. What do you want to discuss?” He was intrigued by the look in her eyes; in previous meetings he had been struck by the remarkable openness of her face. Now her expression was guarded, and her bearing was even and cool, almost detached. Though her earlier beauty was enhanced by the excitement and mirth that shone in those eyes, there was an elegance and distance to her now that he found even more interesting.

“I was wondering if you ever contemplated marrying again,” she asked, looking at him levelly.

“No,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, if it is a possibility open for discussion, I would like to talk about it.”

Anborn leaned back in his chair, intrigued. “I’m willing to talk about anything you’d like, m’lady,” he said, smiling slightly. “Please, by all means tell me what’s on your mind.”

“If it’s not too unpleasant a concept to you, I wonder if you would consider marriage to me,” she said, still watching him keenly.

A small laugh escaped him, and he coughed into his hand as he sat forward. “Sorry; I was just hearing the deafening sound of millions of hearts breaking all over the world. Did I hear you correctly? Are you proposing to me?”

“Not yet,” Rhapsody said calmly. “As I said, I am gauging your interest. If you recall, we are discussing this openly with no obligations, right?”

“Right, of course,” Anborn replied, settling back in his chair. “Well, on first consideration, let’s say I’m intrigued. What would this entail? Why would you want to marry me?”

Rhapsody moved her plate out of the way and rested her arms, crossed, on the table before her. “Well, I suppose the answer to that comes in two parts; why do I want to marry, and why you. First, why do I want to marry: I don’t, actually. I would prefer not to, but then I would prefer not to be Queen of the Lirin, either. I don’t seem to have much choice in either matter.” Anborn nodded, pleased by her candor.

“Unfortunately, since this has taken place I have been besieged by requests from the rulers of other lands seeking to parlay about a marriage of state. I have no desire to expand the lands of Tyrian, nor do I wish to be involved in the politics that would entail. I am also aware, however, that to remain a female ruler alone would be to invite constant testing of my resolve and the strength of my reign. I don’t have the patience for that, nor the willingness to let anyone be injured or killed defending my honor for such a stupid reason. Therefore, I am resigned to the fact that I have to marry.”

A fragment of a smile crept into the considered expression Anborn was wearing. “Somehow that doesn’t seem like you, my dear,” he said dryly. “I would have wagered a considerable sum that you would make a lioness’s stand to the end against such threats.”

“You would be a far poorer man, then.” All traces of pleasantry disappeared from Rhapsody’s face. She closed her eyes for a moment, fighting off the memory of the wyrm that slept within the bowels of the Earth. The vast tunnel wall she had once leaned against had been but a scale in its immense skin, its flesh a substantial part of the Earth’s mass now. When she had banished the thought she opened her eyes again and looked directly at Anborn once more.

“Let us not mince words, General. We both know that war is coming; it draws closer with every passing moment. And while you have seen war firsthand, I have seen the adversary—or at least one of them. We will need everything we have, everything, to merely survive its awakening, let alone defeat it. I will waste neither the blood nor the time of the Lirin fending off a martial challenge over something so stupid as my betrothal. A marriage of convenience is an insignificant price to pay to keep Tyrian safe and at peace for as long as possible. We will need every living soul when the time comes. You once asked me if I was sworn to Llauron. I am sworn to the Lirin—I will do whatever I have to do to keep them safe, no matter how much it costs me.”

Anborn spun the stem of his wine goblet between his fingers, then nodded as his smile broadened. He raised the glass in a silent toast, drank quickly, then nodded as he set it down again.

“Pray continue.”

“Now, why might I ask you to be the one: you don’t love me, and I don’t want you to. I doubt that you ever will. I hope you won’t be offended when I say that while I feel affectionately toward you, and might someday even be deeply fond of you, I don’t think I could fall in love with you, either. That makes a marriage between us practical, and free from many of the problems that normally accompany the state.

“There is very little that I would ask of you: that you not embarrass me, or try to harm me or the Lirin people. Other than that, I make no demands. I don’t expect you to be faithful to me, although I would appreciate your discretion. Of course, I would expect to have your loyalty in other matters. You would be free to come and go as you please.”

“Interesting,” said Anborn.

“Now, to the benefits. For me, aside from the beforementioned freedom from pursuit, I would have a husband I respect and like and whose reputation would frighten off potential problems. For you, I can’t say what the benefits are. The Lirin army would be available in times of your need, though I would not commit them for unethical actions. There is some wealth and social stature to be had, even though obviously you are not without your own.

“Perhaps the reasons for you are not as strong as they are for me, and it might come down to doing me a favor. But you’d always have a place to come home to where you are welcome, honored, and appreciated. I would do the best I could to be good company and not to make demands of you. Anyway, that’s what I am thinking. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Several.”

“By all means, please ask.”

“Well, let’s see, what first—are children an expectation of yours?”

“No. Are they for you?”

“No. Actually, I prefer not.”

“I might, in fact, adopt one from time to time, but I think that would be seen as my child only, not yours. The Lirin are very understanding of this kind of thing.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“Very well. What else?”

“What about, er, conjugal relations? Is that a part of this agreement?” Rhapsody didn’t blink, and her face remained serene. “That would be your decision,” she said. “If it is an expectation of yours, it would be met. If not, that would be fine as well.” She smiled, and a hint of her old humor sparkled in her eyes. “I believe you have seen enough to make an informed decision about this.”

Anborn shook his head and smiled in amazement. “This is fascinating,” he said, an amused tone in his voice. “I am sitting across from the most comely female that I have ever seen, a woman that has the male world prostrate at her feet, and she is discussing the possibility of our union with the same enthusiasm with which she might negotiate a land treaty or codification of technical law. It is almost surreal, Rhapsody. May I ask you one more question?”

“Certainly.”

“What happened to you? You are definitely not the girl I almost ran down on the road some time past.”

“No, I’m not,” she agreed.

His voice became uncharacteristically gentle. “Was it whatever happened with the gladiator?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. It’s just that I’ve grown up and come to understand what is attainable and what isn’t, Anborn. I find that practicality costs me less than idealism did, and I’ve grown weary of wanting things I can’t have. All I desire now is peace. And for the Earth to survive what is coming.”

Anborn rested his chin in his hand and studied her. “What a shame,” he said at last. “Although I will admit that I find you far easier to take like this, I have to say that I rather miss the other you. You are far too young and beautiful to sound so old and weary.”

“I am old and weary, Anborn; much older than you, by the way.”

“Only technically.”

“Point conceded. But I don’t want you to think that I am always this pragmatic. There are still things I care deeply about, and I still have my music. As long as that remains I think I will not be too boring.”

Anborn watched her a long time; she did not avert her eyes or look uncomfortable, but lifted her goblet and finished her wine. Finally he spoke.

“No, I would guess not,” he said, with a slight smile. “Well, without committing, since that was not part of the discussion, I would have to say that I am very interested. And honored, by the way. I think you would be almost the perfect wife for me, Rhapsody. As long as you allow me the freedom to come and go, I would enjoy the prospect of being your protector and guardian. I expect that we would share a good many interests. There are many things we could teach each other. And I know I certainly would relish a physical relationship with you—I’d have to be dead not to. You are right; love in a marital relationship is overrated and certainly not the most important factor.”

“I never said that,” Rhapsody said seriously. “I just said I didn’t think it was the most important factor for us.”

“Indeed; I stand corrected.” His eyes wandered over her face and upper body as if searching for something; a moment later he seemed to have found what he was looking for. “The Lirin don’t like me much, you know; an understandable hostility, left over from the war. Won’t this be a problem for you?”

Rhapsody smiled. “If the Lirin have a problem with it, I will abdicate gladly. One of the things I love best about Tyrian society, one of the main reasons I agreed to take the throne, is that they don’t dictate who anyone marries. And perhaps we might be responsible for a small part of the healing process from that war, an undertaking that is long overdue.”

A look of frank admiration crept into his eyes. “You are an amazing woman, Rhapsody—er, Your Majesty.”

She made a comically sour face. “Oh, please.”

“And I am well and truly honored by your interest. So yes; if you decide you want a husband, and you are foolish enough to want that to be me, I would be interested in the position.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling and sitting up. “I will ponder what you’ve said, and I appreciate your candor.”

“If this is the sort of discussion topic I can expect whenever you invite me to lunch, I would like to make it a regular occurrence,” Anborn said, rising and bowing politely. “I believe you know how to reach me if you come to a decision.”

“Yes,” she said, rising with him. “Thank you for coming. I will walk with you to Oelendra’s house. I have a few things I need to see her about.”

“Give her my best,” Anborn said, taking her arm in the crook of his own. “By the way, have you discussed this with her yet?”

“Of course not,” Rhapsody answered. “I felt you deserved to be the first to hear about it.”

Anborn laughed. “We will get along just fine, Rhapsody,” he said, and together they strolled back to Oelendra’s house.

At the crossroad path to the Lirin champion’s cottage Anborn took Rhapsody’s hand and kissed it.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.” He nodded politely to Rial, who was coming up the path as well. The Lirin viceroy nodded coolly in return. “Thank you for an interesting lunch. I will ponder what you said.”

“Thank you. Travel well.”

Rial waited until Anborn had disappeared into the forest, then came up to her.

“By your leave, Your Majesty—”

“Rhapsody, please.”

“Yes—sorry. There are a few matters I was hoping to consult you on.”

Rhapsody turned and continued to walk down the path toward Oelendra’s house, motioning for him to follow. “Such as?”

“The plains Lirin are asking for your aid in gaining tariff relief on their agricultural exports to Manosse and the Great Overward. Now that the realms are united, you are the controlling authority of—

Rhapsody quickened her pace. “Do you think I should grant the request, Rial?”

“Well, there are many good and—”

“So do I. Please take care of it. What else?”

“The battlements on the southern breastworks are in need of refitting.”

“Thank you for handling that as well.”

“The border patrols are requesting the building of two new longhouses—

Rhapsody stopped walking. “Rial, who took care of these things before I became queen?”

The elderly viceroy blinked. “ ’Twas I, Your—Rhapsody.”

“And, quite honestly, do you think I have any special knowledge of the details of refitting breastworks merely because I am a woman?”

Rial chuckled. “No.”

“Surely you must be able to see that I am underqualified there as well, even if you are too polite to look directly. You were the Lord Protector of this kingdom for a hundred years before I came, Rial. You know far more about these things than I do. Continue to make those decisions on your own. Please don’t take the time to make me feel important by asking me questions that you know the answers to and I don’t.” A hoot followed by a round of raucous laughter went up near the outer gate from the place where the suitors were still gathered. Rhapsody looked off in the direction of the gate, then back at Rial.

“I have a few other things on my mind at the moment.” a pleasant surprise,” Oelendra said, smiling, as she opened the door. “It’s always wonderful to see you, Your Majesty.”

“Oelendra, I love you, but if you don’t stop calling me that I will have you beheaded.”

The older woman laughed. She spoke her reply in Ancient Lirin: “With the help of what army?”

“Your own, actually,” Rhapsody replied in the same tongue, smiling.

Oelendra put an arm around Rhapsody’s shoulders and led her inside, tossing her cloak over the edge of a chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I have a number of things to go over with you. Is this an inconvenient time?”

Oelendra sighed in mock despair. “Rhapsody, you’re the queen now. There is no such thing as an ‘inconvenient time’ for someone where you’re concerned.” She went to the fire and ladled out two mugs of dot mwl, then turned and handed one to Rhapsody. “I take it you’re still not enjoying the privileges of your new office?” Her smile faded as she looked in the Singer’s eyes, and found a closed, distant look in them. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Rhapsody answered, sipping the mulled mead. “Do you know Anborn ap Gwylliam by more than just reputation?”

“Aye,” Oelendra answered, settling into one of the chairs before the fire. “Of Anwyn and Gwylliam’s three sons, he’s actually the only one I really do know. I attended all of their Naming ceremonies when they were infants, but they were only young men when the war began.

“I had seen them occasionally as children, but after the war Llauron spent much of his time at the Circle tending the Tree and leading the Filids, and I have not seen Edwyn Griffyth since before the war began. I hear he apprenticed in the forges of his father, and then went to sea. But as a child Anborn was always keen to learn the ways of the sword, so his mother sent him to me. I trained Anborn, and so know him rather well. Why do you ask?”

Rhapsody sat down in the chair opposite her and took another sip. “I’m thinking of marrying him. Oh—he sends you his best, by the way.”

Oelendra looked her up and down a moment. “Why?”

“Probably because he likes you.”

Oelendra snorted. “Why are you thinking of marrying him?”

“To get rid of these incessant, stupid suitors, to put an end to the threat they bring. For all the reasons we’ve discussed before, Oelendra. Why not? Is there something wrong with Anborn?”

Oelendra put down her mug, leaned forward and regarded Rhapsody seriously. “There is a rather obvious reason, I would think.”

“I can’t think of any.”

“Don’t be coy, Rhapsody; it doesn’t suit you,” Oelendra retorted, her tone of voice becoming terse.

Rhapsody’s tone matched her own. “I’m not being coy,” she said, looking over at Oelendra with a look in her eyes that the warrior didn’t recognize. “Unless you have something about him of which I ought to be aware, I am thinking of finalizing the arrangements after the Cymrian Council.”

Oelendra watched her a moment longer, then drained the rest of her drink and put the mug down, her glance resting on the queen once more. “What about Gwydion?” she finally asked, reluctant to have been the first to give ground.

Rhapsody regarded her levelly. “What about him, Oelendra? He’s married—doesn’t that mean something to you? It certainly does to me.”

“So your response is to in turn marry his uncle? That’s healthy. I don’t care about Gwydion,” Oelendra replied, trying to make her vocal quality less intense. “ ’Tis you that has me worried. You are as you were when you first came here—ungrieved, unwept. You are carrying him in your heart, Rhapsody. There is no room there for anyone else yet, especially Anborn.”

“And it will be so for the rest of my days, Oelendra; so what of it? Anborn understands where he fits into my life, and I into his—if anything he may respect my right not to care for him more than you do. This is a marriage of convenience, and we both know that. So what do you want of me? Am I supposed to mourn my life away, staying untrothed, and watch our soldiers meet and rebuff challenges for an alliance with their blood, their lives? How could you expect me to be so selfish, Oelendra? If anyone, I would think you would understand.” Her words became choked; she stopped speaking and glared at her mentor.

Oelendra rose and came to her, crouching on her heels before Rhapsody the way she did with children. With her hand she stroked Rhapsody’s face.

“I do understand, darling, probably better than you do,” she said gently. “You’re wounded and in pain, and you’re looking for a place to hide. Run to me, Rhapsody. I can protect you until you are healed.”

Rhapsody pushed her hand away. “No, Oelendra, I can take care of myself. Gods, if I can’t by now I should pack up and head back to Ylorc. Besides, you know as well as I do this nonsense isn’t going to stop until something happens.”

Oelendra tried a different tack. “So this is a marriage of convenience, and Anborn agrees?”

“Yes.”

“Then will you really live as man and wife? Alliance marriages aren’t official until they’re consummated.” She watched Rhapsody’s face closely for signs of color as she usually saw during allusions to sex, but she saw none.

“Of course,” Rhapsody replied simply. “I offered Anborn the choice, and he chose that one.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not really.”

“And that’s all right with you? You are going to let him make love to you?”

“Yes. It’s part of the bargain.”

Oelendra shook her head sadly. “I have lived too long. I would never have believed that I would hear you talk like this. Rhapsody, please consider what you are saying. You are going to sell yourself in marriage to a man you don’t love, and defy the true feelings of your heart.” She stopped. The look on Rhapsody’s face frightened her.

The queen was trembling with anger, or something like it; her eyes burned with green fire. “I hate to disillusion you, Oelendra, but it won’t be the first time. At least this time the reason is better—rather than just selling myself to survive, I will be selling myself so that Lirin soldiers will. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?

“I have been telling you all along that I didn’t measure up to this position, but you wouldn’t listen. So it shouldn’t surprise you that water has found its own level again, and my reaction is to do the common thing—to resort to whoring as the path of least resistance. It’s the only way I know, Oelendra. It’s what I am. I guess you can crown a slut with ancient diadems and clothe her in as many silken gowns as you want, but blood will out, you see; she’ll still lie on her back rather than stand and fight.

“And don’t you dare throw Ashe up to me. He, at least, understood this. He, at least, knew me for what I was and accepted it. He didn’t try to foist me off as someone worthy of respect, of leadership. He found someone he felt was worthy. He did the kingly thing, and I respect him for it. So please, don’t pester me. Help me, Oelendra; this is hard enough for me as it is without you saying the things my mother would have. Thank Fate for taking her before she could live to see her daughter as the poorest excuse for a ruler the Lirin have ever had. Thank Fate she died without knowing me for the whore that I am.”

Before the last words had left her lips Rhapsody’s head snapped sideways from a stinging slap delivered squarely across her face. She blinked, trying to absorb the physical and mental shock. As blood welled beneath her skin from the blow, she looked into Oelendra’s silvery eyes and saw seething anger masked behind a calm facade.

“You have just insulted the honor of my queen, and more importantly, my friend,” Oelendra said in a cold, low voice. “If you were anyone else, I would kill you where you stand for what you just said.”

Weary sympathy began to temper her fury. “You may have mastered the sword, Rhapsody, but you are forgetting the more important lessons you learned here. I do not care what you were, or how you survived; we all do what we must when our backs are to the wall. I love you for who you are, and for what you can become.”

Rhapsody lowered her eyes as if ashamed. “I’m sorry, Oelendra,” she said meekly. “I can’t help it; I know what I have to do, but it hurts so much that I’m afraid it’s going to kill me. It’s Anborn or Achmed; they are the only mates powerful enough to keep the others at bay. And I don’t want to give Achmed access to Tyrian except in alliance. I love him, but I don’t have any illusions about what he might do. Please help me do what I need to do, Oelendra. I can’t bear to see anyone else die defending me. Please, Oelendra. I need your strength. If you love me, help me.”

Oelendra took her queen into her arms and held her as she began to weep. “Listen, darling, we all need shoulders to cry on, and you are welcome to mine anytime. But you don’t need my strength; you need to listen to what I’ve already told you, and heed your own heart.”

“No, I can’t, Oelendra,” Rhapsody sobbed. “My heart is selfish, and it can’t have what it wants this time; that belongs to someone else now. So I have to listen to my gut, and it tells me that if any blood is shed defending my honor, which is a travesty anyway, that my soul will die.” Her tears subsided, and she fought to return to a state of calm. “Help me, Oelendra. If anyone should understand, you should. You’ve stayed here, in this life, all[...]

[...]

[...]script was unmistakable, the approximated spelling of the Firbolg language couched in their ancient code. The queen read the document as quickly as she could decipher it, then sat down on the couch before the fire.

“What is it?”

She did not look up. “I’m to leave for Bethe Corbair in the morning.”