Sorrows of Adoration (18 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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Before I could respond,
either in doubt or thanks, he was guiding me up the steps and
through the temple door.

* * *

Abbott Jhin was the
only other who learned of the plan, and he was delighted by it. He
treated me with great respect, but I knew it was largely motivated
from a dislike of Queen Kasha. Nonetheless, he saw to it that I was
immediately housed comfortably and, of course, allowed to take a
hot bath.

I remained sequestered
in the Temple residences until the day of the announcement arrived,
seeing only the Abbott, Jarik, and the acolyte who brought me food
in the meantime. Jarik had come to me frequently, always concerned
that I was well and heaping much praise upon me, lest I should run
away again. On the afternoon of the day of the announcement, he
came with a surprise. He had arranged secretly for Leiset to be
relieved of the assignment she had undertaken as a mere assistant
to another maidservant after I left. He brought her to me that
afternoon that she might help me dress and adorn myself for the
event to come.

The moment he left,
Leiset began to apologize, but I cut her off. “None of what has
occurred is your fault, Leiset. Honestly, I have heard how upset
you were, and it is I who should apologize to you.”

Thankfully, we agreed
then and there to put an end to silly, girlish battles of apology
and decided that it was best to start fresh. I told her briefly the
story of how Kurit had convinced me to return. She kept sighing,
telling me it was incredibly romantic—so much so in fact that I
wondered if our love was truly that nauseating.

She had brought with
her the only dress the tailor had finished before I left, but at
least it was my size. It was a formal black gown with long sleeves
that featured a gold thread weave pattern. The neckline was
appropriately modest, which I was glad of, since I did not wish my
scar to show. When I told Leiset that it looked to me like an odd,
crinkled little mouth on my shoulder, she burst into laughter. She
almost fainted with merriment when I became silly enough to move my
shoulder and pretend it could talk.

Once I was ready, I
began to feel nervous and could no longer mask it with jest. The
days spent in the Temple had relaxed me, for it was nostalgic,
reminding me of my childhood but without the chores or being
constantly told to mind my tongue. Now that the time was
approaching when what I thought was a rather foolish plan would
cast me back into the palace, I grew apprehensive and fidgety.

Jarik came to fetch me
in good time and saw my nervousness immediately. He kissed my hand
decorously and said, “Will you please relax? We will make this
work, I promise you, Aenna.”

Outside the Temple
there waited a carriage drawn by two horses. I had never ridden in
a carriage before, and, I admit, I was enchanted by the idea. It
was the sort of thing that happened in legends and bards’ songs: a
handsome man taking a lady to a palace in a carriage.

The carriage stopped
outside the palace doors. Jarik bade me take his arm and led me
swiftly into the corner of the corridor leading to the Great Hall.
I stood quietly behind a huge pillar while Jarik approached the
Hall to signal Kurit that we had arrived. Jarik returned to me as I
heard Kurit ask for the attention of all in the room.

I wish I could write
what Kurit said, for I am certain his words were elegant and in
great praise of me, though of course not by name. But while he
spoke, I was too busy avoiding unconsciousness to actually pay
attention to what he said.

When Jarik came to take
my arm, I went pale and found it hard to breathe. Full panic had
set in. I am ashamed to this day of it, but I lost complete control
and could not prevent it. Jarik actually had to use a corner of a
tapestry on the wall to fan me as he spoke to me in rushed
whispers.

“Aenna, the only thing
you have to worry about now is your own self-doubt! If you go in
there looking meek and frightened, they’ll run roughshod over you.
But if you walk in there proudly, head held high as their future
Queen, then they will accept you!”

He was right. Panic
would only allow them all to confirm that I was unworthy. I
commanded myself to take control, convincing myself that even if I
was not worthy, I had to at least pretend I was. That was the key,
I decided—to ensure the appearance of competency, even if I felt
that I lacked it.

I heard Kurit stop
speaking. Jarik said, “This is it, Aenna. Either you go in there
and show them Kurit’s choice is sound, or you set yourself up to
fail. Make the decision. He’s waiting for us.”

I took a deep breath
and held it. I straightened my back and schooled my face to betray
no fear. Then I took Jarik’s arm and let him lead me into the Great
Hall.

As we approached, I saw
the dinner tables full of people, all of whom were turned towards
me. Fright threatened to strike again, so I turned my eyes to
Kurit, who stood smiling, holding a beckoning arm to me. I focused
solely on him as Jarik led me in that direction. I knew if I dared
to look at Queen Kasha, my resolve to show only pride and strength
would crumble.

We arrived where Kurit
stood in front of the head table. Jarik graciously let go of my arm
and bowed. Kurit took my hands in his and loudly proclaimed, “Lady
Aenna of Alesha, you do me a great honour in agreeing to be my
bride.” He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them sweetly for
all to see.

I heard a sound
and looked up at the head table to see the Queen rising to her
feet. I froze, for this is where I had thought their plan would
fail.
Now
she shall decry me publicly, and Kurit shall explode back at her in
fury,
I thought. I
braced myself for the coming trouble.

Then, just as she
seemed about to speak, Jarik exclaimed joyously, “Pour the wine and
fetch the musicians, for there shall be a royal wedding in three
months’ time!”

The lords and ladies of
court at their tables, who had been seated with mouths agape in
shock, accepted Jarik’s cue and stood to applaud. In the midst of
their approval, hesitant though it was, Jarik again shouted, “And
on their wedding day, there shall be a great tournament, for the
new Princess shall require a Champion. Any man aspiring to this
noble title is invited to arrive that day in his armour, ready to
prove his worth!” The crowd applauded again, that time punctuating
the noise with several enthusiastic cheers.

They left their seats
and crowded around Kurit and me, some to stare, others to offer
congratulations. I saw in the corner of my eye that Queen Kasha was
on her way to me as well, and my heart beat rapidly in anxiety. But
just before she was at my side, Kurit took my arm and whisked me
away to another part of the room, ostensibly to introduce me to an
elderly gentleman who had not left his seat.

And so this mad dance
of avoidance continued for some time. Queen Kasha would manage to
nod and smile to whomever was speaking to her, then set off in my
direction. Jarik and Kurit worked as a veritable comedic team,
taking turns blocking me from view and then dragging me around the
room, always with exaggerated comments such as, “Oh, Aenna, you
simply must meet Lord Such-and-Such over here!” or “Come this way,
Aenna, to hear Lady Whomever’s delightful tale of her trip to the
shores of Penklin!” No such tale or introduction was ever properly
completed, however, because again I would be swept away to avoid
the Queen.

I suppose she must have
tired of the chase, for after some time I stood with Jarik and some
wretched elderly Lord who insisted on staring at my bosom, only to
see the Queen approach Kurit. He was standing near the Great Hall’s
northern exit. She stood beside him for a moment, spoke to him, and
then stormed out of the Hall. He caught my eye and smiled wryly.
Then he shrugged, straightened his tunic, turned on one heel like a
solider, and followed his mother.

I looked to Jarik and
saw immediately that he had witnessed the departure as well.

“What’s to be done
now?” I asked.

“Come,” he said gently.
“It looks as though they went into the map room. We shall wait for
Kurit in the Council room. We won’t be intruding upon them, but we
shall be close by if we’re needed.”

The Council room was
long and seemed very narrow with the enormous table that filled it.
Numerous chairs were placed around the table with an ornately
carved one at the head. I sat at Jarik’s insistence, and he took
the seat beside me. We faced the door that joined the map room to
the Council room.

It was not long before
the discussion next door had turned sufficiently ugly that we could
hear the muffled shouts of anger from both parties. The sound
chilled me for many reasons, greatest among them the knowledge that
I was causing a terrible rift between a mother and her son.

The door to the Hall
opened behind us, and in walked King Tarken. With a polite nod to
both of us, he took his seat in the ornate chair. He sat in
silence, his hands folded neatly before him, his face
unreadable.

Over the next few
minutes—which seemed as hours—the volume of their shouting grew
enough that we could make out some of their words. I said a prayer
in my mind to the Gods to please not have to hear their words, but
the prayer went unanswered. We heard Queen Kasha roar that I had
bewitched Kurit and that she had removed me from his sight for his
own good. Kurit shouted back again and again that she had no right
to send me away when she knew that he had chosen me to be his
bride. The Queen argued that I had no honour, since I had promised
her that I would deny him if he found me, and he spat back
something about the insane efforts he had to go through to make me
undo those promises.

And so it went, back
and forth, until I could bear it no longer. I rose to my feet and
headed to the map room door.

Jarik was instantly on
his feet beside me. “Aenna, no. Do not go in there. Kurit can
handle this.”

“He shouldn’t have to!”
I went to reach for the door, but Jarik held my arm firmly. “Jarik,
I appreciate your desire to protect me, but I cannot sit here idly
as they tear each other apart over me. I won’t sit by and be the
cause of disaster without trying to do something to stop it!”

I opened the door with
the arm that he did not hold and entered as he finally let me
go.

There, on either side
of the centre table, stood my beloved Kurit and his mother, both
with eyes ablaze in fury, faces red from shouting. They turned to
me as I entered.

“Aenna, go. This is not
your battle,” Kurit said with a hard edge to his voice that I knew
was not directed at me.

“It is my battle,
Kurit. I will not let you suffer it alone on my behalf,” I said,
their infectious anger filling me as well.

“Listen to that,” Queen
Kasha snarled. “She defies you already! Are you so blinded by her
pretty face and tawdry offerings that you cannot see how she yearns
to control you?”

“Enough!” Kurit
shouted, slamming the table with his fist, a horrific look on his
face of anger and revulsion towards the Queen. The tendons of his
neck stood out as he growled, “I will not stand here and let you
abuse her!” And so the overlapping shouts of fury began again,
ringing horribly in my ears.

“Stop this, both of
you!” I heard myself shout. The shock of my words stopped them both
in mid-word, and they looked at me in sudden silence. Had I not
been so furious at this display, I would have cowered under the
Queen’s stare, but my anger drove my wild tongue to speak my
mind.

“Kurit, I dearly
appreciate that you are defending me, but you must realize that
your mother seeks to protect you. She doesn’t know me. She has
every right and reason to suspect my motives, and it is up to me to
prove myself worthy in her eyes. It is not right for you to be in a
shouting match with your mother, let alone with the Queen! You
cannot protect me from my duty to prove myself, and you cannot
condemn her for wanting to protect her son and her kingdom!”

I turned next to Queen
Kasha, who I had hoped would hear what I had thought to be
reasonable words and subsequently provide less resistance. But her
eyes remained full of fury, and that enraged me anew. Fists
clenched at my sides, I stood my ground and made my speech.
“Forgive my bluntness, Your Majesty, but Kurit has chosen me not
because of bewitching or trickery on my part! I fought against his
love though it almost killed me to do so. But he loves me—that you
must accept and understand, and understand further that his love is
such that without me he is less able to fulfill his duty. I am not
some cheap trollop seeking the throne in an ill-conceived game of
treachery and manipulation! I realize that I do not share his past
of wealth and prestige, but he believes that I can rise above my
roots to serve my kingdom well, and I swear to you now that I shall
not rest as I endeavour to meet those expectations. Give me a
chance and I shall prove myself to you, or banish me away and watch
your son wallow in despair and fail his kingdom as a result!”

My rapid tirade came to
an abrupt end, and I stood facing her defiantly, fists still
clenched at my sides, my chest heaving in breathlessness from the
shouting.

Queen Kasha’s eyes
narrowed, and she snarled, “How dare you speak to me that way,
you—”

Before she could
release another barrage of insults, King Tarken silenced her,
having entered behind me. “That’s enough. All of you.” He moved
closer to the centre of the room and looked quietly at each of us.
I knew this was the moment of truth, that the King would make his
decision. I could not guess his emotion by his face. With a quiet
air of ultimate authority, he spoke.

“This young woman has
displayed dedication in warning Kurit about the approaching threat
to his life. She has displayed bravery and strength in taking an
arrow meant for our son. She has displayed a willingness to
sacrifice her own desires in leaving Kurit but also demonstrated
her love for him in coming back to face this scene, in which she
has again demonstrated strength, wisdom, and confidence.

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