Sorrows of Adoration (10 page)

“But, Aenna, the game
ended as you were bleeding in my arms. That was the first time I
felt true fear, true loss. I’ve been sad in my life, as anyone has,
but never have I come so close to such misery as I did imagining
that I would not ever kiss you again.” He paused to slowly kiss my
hand. “Does that sound foolish? I feel like I sound foolish.”

I shook my head. “No,”
I said. “I wish I hadn’t put you through that.”

“Oh, no, that’s not
what I meant at all,” he said, rising from the chair to move to sit
beside me on the bed. He continued to hold my right hand in his
left and moved his right to gently stroke my hair. “You have to
stop feeling responsible for everything that goes wrong, or you’ll
go mad. I was afraid for you because I love you. I knew it then. I
know that love is supposed to grow over time and that it’s foolish
to let oneself fall too deeply too fast, but none of that mattered
to me at that moment because I thought that I was losing you and
could only think of how horrible that would be.

“And as I watched you
sleep after you’d been tended to, I knew you would live. I believed
that, and I was relieved, and I thought that intense feeling of
adoration would fade somewhat once you were out of danger. I
suspected it had been caused by the threat of loss.

“But, Aenna, it hasn’t
gone away. Not even now. I love you. I know it’s too soon. I know
it’s been only days since we met, and even though those days were
as months insofar as the amount of time we spent talking and being
together, still, I know I should not realistically feel this way
for you. But I do. I do. I can’t deny it—I won’t deny it! Not
unless you tell me it upsets you. I pray that it doesn’t, but if it
does I shall do whatever it is you want of me—”

I moved my hand to his
mouth and placed a finger on his lips to stop his nervous babbling.
I wanted to say something reassuring. I wanted to express to him
that I understood how he felt, that I too felt emotions than were
stronger than they ought to have been. I wanted to tell him that
time didn’t matter, that what felt right must be right and I too
was overrun by intense feelings. My mind tossed about these
notions, but none came forward as clear words in proper sentences.
So instead I simply said, “I love you.”

A look of incredulity
passed over his face. “Say it again, so I know I didn’t imagine
it.”

I touched his cheek. It
was smooth—he had shaved the few days’ worth of beard that had
grown on our journey. Any hope of continuing to withhold my heart
was shattered as I said again, “I love you.”

He smiled at me, then
leaned over to kiss me. I know how silly and girlish it all sounds,
but my heart raced, my mind whirled, my soul was filled with every
joyful proclamation of love I had ever heard a bard sing.

As he sat back upwards,
he smiled again, the roguish charm making itself known once more.
“I am a beast,” he whispered. “Jarik should rightly give me a sound
thrashing for kissing you in a bed, when I have not yet married
you.”

As I tried to prevent
myself from pondering that little “yet,” he swept away any doubt of
what he meant by moving from the bed to his knees on the floor. I
could see only his head and shoulders as he knelt, and it seemed
absurd, but he took my hand between both of his own again and then
said, “Aenna of Alesha, you have twice saved my life. My life is
yours. Would you do me the honour of marrying me, that I might
spend the rest of my days at your side? I owe you everything that
comes, and wish dearly to share it all with you.”

My throat locked, and I
wept. My shoulder hurt, but I didn’t care. If someone had told me
two weeks before that soon I would be in a palace with a Prince
asking me to be his bride, I would have called them insane. Yet
there I was. I wondered if it was a dream, thinking perhaps I had
bumped my head at the inn and would wake there soon, all of this
passing as fantasy.

Kurit misinterpreted my
tears and fretfully said, “I’m sorry—it’s too soon! Forgive me if
I’ve been too bold.” He brushed the tears from my cheek, looking so
worried.

“I will marry you,” I
heard myself say, though I know not how my chaotic mind conceived
the sentence.

His concern quickly
turned to elation, and for once even he was at a loss for words. He
came back up to the bed and kissed me again, no longer apologizing
for its inappropriateness. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my
forehead, and then my lips again.

“I wish I could embrace
you, pick you up, and whirl you about in delight, but I wouldn’t
dare cause you injury,” he gushed happily.

I smiled at him. “Is
that what you were discussing with Jarik when I woke?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I told
him I was going to ask you to be my wife. Although to be quite
honest, I didn’t know I was going to do it now. It just happened.
And you’ve made me the happiest man alive, dear Aenna.”

A small sense of
disquiet seized me and I said, “He didn’t seem to think your mother
would approve.”

“I don’t care what she
says,” he said quickly, dismissively. “I love you.”

I looked at him
seriously, the full impact of what had just occurred taking hold of
my consciousness. “If she doesn’t approve, then it does matter. It
matters a great deal.”

“Why? Aenna, what
matters is how we feel, not anyone else.”

“No, Kurit. She’s not
just your mother. She’s the Queen of Keshaerlan. You are one day
going to be King, and your choice in a wife must be made not only
from the heart but with a sound mind.”

“Aenna, I told you
before not to worry about that. I may have fallen for you rather
quickly, and certain events may have made me act faster than I
otherwise would have, but I should like to think I’m not so
mindless as to choose a wife that is unworthy of the position.
Don’t worry about my mother. She will get to know you as I have,
and she’ll surely recognize that you are special, that you are more
than just a pretty peasant girl tugging at my heartstrings, and
she’ll see your potential. How could she not?”

I decided that he had
been right about so many things in which I had doubted him, that
this time I would believe him and not worry. I basked in the
delight of knowing he loved me and that he intended to marry me. I
wondered if it was wise to leap into something so fast, but I was
so happy I couldn’t make myself care. The worries and dangers that
had set me on the path to this place were now behind me, and that
was where I wanted them to stay.

* * *

The next day Kurit told
me he had informed his parents of our engagement. He refused to
tell me how his mother took the news, which made me suspect she did
not approve, and it irritated me that he was too wrapped up in the
giddiness of the moment to take her disapproval seriously. He said
his father asked many questions but did not seem to object.

“He wants to meet you
today,” Kurit said.

“Today? I can barely
stand!” Not that standing was truly the problem—I was just nervous
about the entire idea and wished to put it off as long as
possible.

“He knows that, Aenna,
and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t expect you to get out of your
sickbed and kneel before him. I realize to you he’s the King, but
to me, he’s just my father. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t judge
people for silly things that are out of their control. He’s wiser
than that.”

“What if he dislikes
me? What if I say something foolish?”

“Aenna, you’re a bright
lady. You’ll do fine.”

I sighed heavily. It
was silly to try to avoid this—sooner or later I’d have to meet
this man. But it was not every day that someone of my low station
was introduced on a personal level to their King. I feared he would
find me immediately unworthy of his son. I was not, however, about
to deny it, for that would be foolish and presumptuous.

“Very well. When is
this to occur?” I asked.

Kurit looked to the
elegant brass and wood clock mounted near the window. “Uh, in about
five minutes.”

“Five minutes!” I
cried. “I’m a disaster! Tash hasn’t even let me have a full and
proper bath yet, and my hair is a revolting mess, and I’m wearing a
nightdress in bed! By the Temple, Kurit, he’s going to find me
revolting!” I started to pull the blankets to the side in an effort
to get out of the bed, which I had not yet done on my own. I felt a
little shaky as I stood, but certainly much stronger than I had
since my injury. I had grown used to the pain in my shoulder, and
it no longer bothered me so long as I was careful when I moved.

I started walking to
the dresser, desperate to at least brush and pin the mop that was
my hair. Kurit was already on his feet, trying to get me to lie
back down.

“No,” I said
frantically. “Go now—I need to change. Do I even have a dress to
change into? Curse this hair, it’s disgusting!” I hurriedly began
to brush it, not caring when the tangles were roughly yanked.

“Aenna, you don’t need
to worry about all this. He doesn’t care how you look! He just
wants to meet you. You look fine!”

“You know I have been
desperately waiting to be able to take a real bath. You know how
ashamed I am to feel unkempt like this!” Having finished brushing
one side with my good arm, I tried to brush the other half of my
hair by reaching around, but bending my head sufficiently hurt a
great deal, and I could not help but wince.

“That’s enough, Aenna.
You’re going to hurt yourself, and there’s no reason!” Kurit
exclaimed, trying to pull me back to the bed as there came a knock
at the door.

I froze. Kurit opened
the door, and in walked a handsome, older man of medium height with
great wide shoulders. His hair was a mixture of black and dark
grey. He looked nothing like Kurit, and I dared to hope this was
not his father.

“Is everything all
right in here? I could hear a bit of a commotion from the hall,”
said the man in a voice that was quiet yet resonated deeply
throughout the room.

“It’s fine, Father.
Aenna was concerned that she did not look her best to meet you, and
I was trying to convince her that you wouldn’t care.”

I turned a deep shade
of red and prayed that the floor would open beneath me. Kurit’s
father turned to me and nodded politely. “You needn’t have gone to
the trouble, my dear.”

“She was afraid you
would find her unworthy,” Kurit said as he tried to guide me back
to the bed.

“Don’t tell him that!”
I said to Kurit, then realized I had just given an order to the
Prince in front of the King, and became even more flustered and
ashamed. “Oh, I didn’t mean to sound like that!” For some absurd
reason, my mind decided that that would be a good time to curtsey,
but my legs didn’t agree and I began to fall over.

Kurit was beside me, so
he caught me as I fell but inadvertently pulled my left arm upwards
in the process, which, of course, hurt. Despite myself, I cried
out, and in panic, Kurit dropped me the rest of the way to the
floor. I landed roughly, making an “oof” sound.

King Tarken came to my
aid just as Kurit did the same. I looked at one, then the other,
and then, just because it was the most insane, ridiculous thing I
could possibly have done in that moment, I laughed.

Hearing myself do so
was a bit of a shock, and I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth.
Kurit and Tarken looked at me strangely and with worry. Again, I
could not help but laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” I
whispered, trying to control myself. But the more I realized how
foolish I must have looked, the funnier it became, and I laughed
again.

“Did you hit your head,
Aenna?” Kurit said as they both helped me gently to my feet.

“No,” I said, forcing
myself to stop laughing. “I just feel like such a fool. You must
think me mad,” I said to the King. “I’m so sorry, really, I don’t
know why I’m laughing. It’s insane, I know. I mean no
disrespect.”

“Hush, dear,” Tarken
said. “You’re panicking for no reason. I did not come to judge you.
Come now, you should be in bed.”

“Aenna, you’re
bleeding,” Kurit fretted.

Sure enough, fresh
blood had seeped through the shoulder of the nightgown. The two men
walked me quickly back to the bed, and Kurit ran to fetch Tash.

And so I was left alone
in a room with King Tarken of Keshaerlan. I had no notion as to
what to say, especially after the ridiculous performance I had just
given. I covered my face with my hands, horribly embarrassed,
certain that he would now tell me that under no circumstances was I
going to be allowed to marry his son.

“I’m sorry if my visit
has upset you,” he said.

“No, Your Majesty, it’s
my fault. What an awful mess I’ve made of things! I wouldn’t blame
you if you sent me away immediately for seeming to be such a raving
lunatic.” Behind my hands, tears began to fall.

“I did not come to pass
judgment on you. I simply wished to meet the girl who has my son’s
heart so enthralled that he can speak of nothing else but how
magnificent you are.” He touched my arm softly, prompting me to
move my hands from my face. “What is it that makes you so
nervous?”

I looked at him
incredulously. “I’m a peasant meeting a King. What isn’t there to
be nervous about? You’re going to tell me that I shall certainly
not be allowed to marry Kurit, aren’t you?”

“That, my dear, is a
complicated issue, and one we shall all discuss together calmly and
rationally when you are well. Peasant or not, you’ve clearly
impressed my son, and I did not raise him to make foolish choices.
There will, however, be no more of his spending time in this room
alone with you. It is unseemly. I’ve arranged for a maidservant to
be assigned to you by tomorrow.” He picked up a clean handkerchief
from the dresser and handed it to me. “Now do please dry your tears
before Kurit gets back and thinks I’ve done something awful to
you.”