Sorrows of Adoration (19 page)

“I am satisfied that
she has proven herself worthy in Kurit’s eyes. I believe that he is
not making decisions based on lust or infatuation. I have seen how
he is unable to function well when she is not present, and that is
his weakness to overcome, not hers. She may be less educated than I
would prefer, but if my son truly wishes to wed her, she should be
given the chance to learn that which she does not know. After all,
I don’t plan to leave this world in the immediate future, so there
is plenty of time for her to be tutored and gain some experience
before she need apply it.”

The King looked at me
and asked, “Where have you been staying?”

“She has been
sequestered in the Temple, Majesty,” said Jarik.

King Tarken turned to
him and nodded. “Arrange for her belongings to be moved to the
palace then, thank you, Jarik. Kurit, I leave it to you to arrange
for the room that was to be hers some time ago to be prepared again
for her and to ensure she has a maidservant immediately.”

Kurit nodded and said,
“We’ve already had Leiset working for her again as of this
afternoon.”

“Good,” the King said
and turned again to me. “Leiset will introduce you to Kordos, the
tutor. He will assess what you need to learn, and you can set up
your own schedule with him.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I
said, bowing my head in deferential gratitude.

The Queen began again
to protest, but King Tarken cut her off. “I appreciate your
feelings, Kasha, but I think it would be best if you excused
yourself until you have regained your composure. My decision is
made, and it is final. Now, I am going to my workroom. I do not
wish to be disturbed by any reports of spats or shouting, so
everyone here had best learn to accept my decision and coexist well
with each other.”

Queen Kasha fixed me
with a glare, and I regretted that the King had chastised her in
front of me. I knew very well that she had no intention of
accepting me in the immediate future. The King watched her leave,
and for the first time I saw a flicker of emotion cross his face;
it was a fatigued frustration. He took his leave shortly
thereafter.

I sighed, letting the
anger and worry roll away from my body. I felt relieved that the
wedding would go ahead, but the fight left me too exhausted to
properly enjoy the good news.

“I believe Leiset
brought your belongings when we left the Temple earlier,” Jarik
said quietly. “I shall find her and confirm that, then have her
help me prepare your room. That will give both of you some quiet
time alone here together. I think you both need that.”

I managed to smile at
Jarik for his kind understanding as Kurit said, “Thank you.”

Jarik left, closing the
door behind him softly.

Kurit looked as tired
as I felt. He reached out to me and whispered, “Come, I haven’t
held you in days.” I fell into his warm embrace; it was paradise
after the storm that had passed.

“I’m sorry you had to
go through that for me,” I whispered.

He said nothing, just
kissed my forehead and held me tight. After some time he stood back
from me, holding my hands.

“
There is no
battle I would not fight for you,” he said earnestly. “This was
awful, I admit, but I really wish for you to understand and believe
that it pales in comparison to the misery I felt when you were
gone. I have not suffered loss often in my life—I have told you
that before. Not knowing where you were, if you were
safe
 
…” He closed
his eyes wearily and sighed. “That was true torture, even more so
than not being able to hold and kiss you. What happened here was
unpleasant but tolerable.”

He pulled me back to
him and kissed me softly, both of us lacking the energy for passion
and seeking only comfort instead.

“The battle is over
now, though. Mother will come around. She has little other choice.”
He smiled, eyes drooping but still alight with affection. “We will
be wed. We’ve won, Aenna. Our prize is a glorious future, shared
together. There could be no greater joy.”

THE FOLLOWING DAYS were
so busy with changes, plans, and decisions to be made that I hardly
had a moment to spare a thought for the Queen’s ire. I met with
Kordos, a grim little man with the hard-edged accent of someone
from the southeast. He evaluated my initial knowledge and grunted
about the amount of work that would be necessary. He devised a
rigorous schedule for my education, and we began immediately.

When I was not in
lessons, I was being fitted for clothes. The tailor was an odd
fellow who made incomprehensible jokes that amused him and no one
else. Still, his work was brilliant, and I was continually
delighted with the fare Leiset brought me to try on.

Delighted, that is,
until the day she brought me the corset. I resisted, but she said
it was what all the proper ladies wore. I told her that Kurit had
told me he despised the things, and she replied that men had no
sense of fashion.

I acquiesced to allow
her at least to put the wretched thing on me. “What sort of
ridiculous fashion dictates such discomfort?” I asked as she pulled
the laces excruciatingly tight.

“It started a
generation ago, at the end of the war with Wusul. Mei-Enkos, the
Wusul Queen, or whatever they call them up there, she gave one to
Lady Senseh of Asune. Lady Senseh was considered to be very
beautiful, and when she wore it to events, other women decided they
wanted them too. Now it’s considered rather barbaric to not wear
one,” Leiset explained.

“How foolish. Every
child in Keshaerlan knows it is the Wusul who are barbarians.
Wretched slavers, they are,” I grumbled, wincing as she continued
to lace the thing upwards.

“Well, the rest of the
ladies don’t bother to think about it.”

“I’m noticing that the
rest of the ladies don’t bother to think at all,” I retorted.
Indeed, in my brief experiences with those who were to be my peers,
I had noticed a proclivity for lazy talk of fashion and art with no
intention to even consider social, economic, or political matters.
In fact, it seemed a rude thing amongst their numbers to discuss
anything of intellectual merit.

“Proper ladies let
their husbands think for them,” muttered Leiset. “Which is why I am
happy to never be wed.”

“Hmph,” I muttered in
kind. “Kurit better not except such mindlessness from me. I
couldn’t bear it.”

“Aenna,” said Leiset as
she finished encasing my poor body in the tomb-like device, “I
suspect that the entire reason he pursued you so fervently was
because he couldn’t bear the thought either. As long as I’ve lived
in this palace—which is a good long time—it has been obvious to
myself and many others that the Prince greatly disdains most of
what makes a ‘proper’ lady. He is a scoundrel, and I know it
borders on treason to say so, but I know also that you are aware of
it. He’s a harmless scoundrel, but a scoundrel nonetheless. He
likes his wine, he likes to dance and be joyous, and he jests about
everything. I imagine he fell in love with you because you are a
living, thinking, active woman, and all he’s ever known are bland,
tea-sipping aristocrats. Now, how does the corset feel?”

“Hideous,” I
complained. “It pinches my back, and the bones are poking me. It’s
hard to breathe. If I ate so much as a spoonful of anything, I
would surely be sick, my stomach is so cramped. I feel encased in
stone, and my breasts ache. They feel like they’re being squeezed
so that they’ll pop out of my back.”

Leiset started to laugh
at the image, but I was in too much discomfort to be merry. “It’s
not funny. It’s despicable.” I sighed, as much as one could breathe
enough to sigh whilst wearing a corset. “Help me get one of the
dresses on. I’ll go find Kurit and see if he even notices the
difference. If he doesn’t, I’m not wearing it. How can I possibly
concentrate on my lessons if I’m too busy being uncomfortable?”

She helped me into a
dress and laced it up in back snugly to fit my cramped waist. I
grumbled again, and we went to find Kurit.

We found him in one of
the parlours, deep in conversation with his father, Jarik, and
another man I thought I remembered to be Lord Mishkel of Felean.
With pleasantries aside, I asked if I could speak privately with
Kurit for a moment. He rose and bade Leiset and me to join him in
the other adjoining parlour.

Closing the door behind
himself, he quickly asked, “What is it? What’s wrong? Aenna, are
you ill?”

“No,” I said.

“Then why do you look
so unwell? Did you injure yourself?” He embraced me in concern and
immediately discerned the problem. “Oh,” he sighed. “They’ve got
you in one of those traps, have they?”

“A corset is
appropriate dress for a lady, Your Highness,” Leiset said.

“
It’s appropriate
dress for someone with no sense,” he said snidely. He looked me
over and said, “Nothing could diminish your beauty, my love, but
wearing that thing
 
…truly, you look as though there’s something wrong with
you.”

“Because there is. It
feels awful,” I confessed.

“Then don’t wear
it.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Kurit, I don’t want to. But I don’t want to stir trouble
either.”

“You mean you don’t
want to add another apparent fault for my mother to pounce
upon.”

I didn’t answer but
gave him a clear look of agreement.

“Aenna, really, I don’t
mean to insult you at all, but I hate it. You look like an unhappy,
pinched sausage.”

The absurd image made
us all laugh, though I could barely do so since my chest could not
expand properly. “I shall not wear it again,” I said. “I don’t care
who disapproves, as long as you don’t think I look fat and
slovenly.”

“Of course not, Aenna,”
he said, smiling handsomely. “I sincerely hope your beauty without
the wretched thing begins a new trend to cast them aside.” He
kissed my hand in a gentlemanly fashion under Leiset’s scrutinizing
eye, and we left him.

Upon returning to my
chambers, I had Leiset remove the awful thing as fast as she could.
Then I took a pleasantly full breath and asked her to discard it
far from my sight. “I never want to see it again,” I said
happily.

* * *

During one of my rare
times of leisure, Jarik, Kurit, and I sat in the parlour and
discussed what plans were being made for the wedding day. The
ceremony would take place in the morning, and of course in the
afternoon there would be the tournament, which Jarik clearly
intended to win. In fact, he promised me that he would, certain
that no one would best him and determined not to allow any other
man usurp the duty he had more or less already decided was his.

“And after you’ve
licked your wounds from the tournament—” Kurit began in jest, only
to hop out of his chair and leap halfway across the room when Jarik
reached to give him a whack for the remark. Kurit laughed behind
me, and he must have made some sort of rude gesture because Jarik
leapt out of his chair and locked his arm around Kurit’s neck. He
dragged Kurit pathetically back to their chairs, dumping the Prince
into his seat.

Kurit rubbed his neck
and said, “Mindless thug.”

“Scrawny worm.”

“Overgrown lout.”

I laughed, and Kurit
gave me a mock pout. “Both of you are such children!” I said with a
smile.

“One of us grew up
enough to not resort to violence,” Kurit teased again, and Jarik’s
arm flashed out to pinch Kurit. Kurit tried to avoid the attack and
ended up falling out of his chair rather hard.

Jarik’s demeanour
changed in an instant. He had been causing Kurit embarrassing
little pains, but when his cousin fell, Jarik was instantly at his
side to help him up. It was rather sweet, in a twisted, brotherly
fashion.

“I’m fine,” Kurit
muttered. He didn’t seem annoyed with Jarik half as much as he was
embarrassed at being so clumsy. They both took their seats
again.

“Careful with him,” I
said to Jarik. “I can’t marry him if he’s broken.”

“I’m delighted that you
have such faith in my strength and masculinity,” Kurit mocked.

“Be glad she speaks for
you, little upstart, for if she asks me to cease giving you the
thrashings you so rightly earn, I shall cease indeed.” Jarik looked
as though he was trying not to smile as he added, “How fortunate of
you to have a woman who can defend you.”

Kurit rolled his eyes
as though he was enduring endless suffering. “None of you respect
me in the slightest,” he whined, pretending to wipe a tear from his
face.

Jarik looked ready to
whack him again but looked at me instead. I shook my head and said,
“Don’t indulge him. If you cause him further injury he’ll expect my
pity.”

Kurit’s jaw dropped
comically, and he mimed putting a blade through his heart. I could
not help but laugh. He turned from me and tried to pout, but a
smile at the silliness threatened to break through. I rose from my
seat and went to him to kiss his cheek. The smile won, and he gave
Jarik a look of triumph.

As I returned to my
seat, Kurit said, “As I was saying, after the tournament, there
will be dancing, of course.”

“Dancing?” I said. I
had seen some folk dancing as a child but had never partaken in
it.

“Of course,” said
Kurit. “What’s a party without dancing? The music and dancing will
go late into the night. We’ll be taken away by carriage before it
ends, to go to the royal cottage. But don’t fret, we’ll have plenty
of time to dance before we go.”

“I don’t know how,” I
blurted.

They looked at each
other in surprise, and then Jarik said, “I suppose that makes
sense. You wouldn’t have been to many balls in your life, I
suspect.”

“None,” I
confirmed.