Sorrows of Adoration (61 page)

“I could not betray
Kurit. I knew him to be back in Endren pining for you. I could not
destroy him for my own gain.”

I nodded, for that was
the answer I had anticipated. I longed to speak more of these
things with him, for I wished to pour out my heart and hear him do
likewise unto me. His words of love made my heart soar, couched
though they were in guilt and betrayal. But we saw Leiset sitting
on a rock just ahead of us on the path and had to cut our
conversation short.

As we approached her,
she rose and kept her head low. “I did not wish to go back alone
and arouse suspicion,” she said quietly, blushing. She quite
clearly had seen us together, and though I knew she would not be
fearful of me, she seemed to shrink away from Jarik’s gaze.

“We appreciate your
discretion, Leiset. Thank you,” I said.

Jarik realized the poor
woman was uncomfortable under his eye and tried to be kind.
“Leiset, I most humbly apologize for shouting at you before. I
should not have said the things that I did and surely not so
angrily. I am sorry.”

She nodded at him
politely. “Thank you, Lord Jarik, but you were right to scold. I
should not have left Her Majesty alone.” There was an odd tone to
her last few words, and I spied a slight narrowing of her eyes at
him. I knew her well enough to know that she was angry with him for
what we had done. She turned and led the way up the remainder of
the path.

THINGS WERE ODD that
evening between Jarik and myself. I could, as always, feel his eyes
upon me, but whenever I returned his glance, he forced a small
smile and turned his eyes away. I thought perhaps he feared he
would look at me too lovingly and those around us would catch the
look, or perhaps he felt ashamed of what we had done and was afraid
to tell me and upset me. It certainly would have upset me to learn
he was ashamed. I would have felt very much a harlot if he were to
be regretful about our intimacy of that afternoon.

He escorted me to my
room in the evening, kissed my hand decorously, and said goodnight.
There I stood in my doorway, watching him walk slowly down the hall
to his own chamber door. As he opened it, I expected to see him
turn to glance at me, but he did not. I felt awful as I closed my
door.

Leiset came to me
shortly thereafter. I could not look at her face, for I worried
that she would lecture me on just how inappropriate it was of me to
allow Jarik to kiss me and touch me as he had done. I did not know
how much of our intimacy she had witnessed, but I was sure any part
thereof would be certain fodder for a moralistic lecture.

She did not speak as
she took my clothes and handed me a nightdress. She did not speak
as she helped me unwrap my hair and put it into a braid for the
night. She made no mention of the fact that I had never received
the bath salts she had gone to fetch, and she did not offer to draw
a bath for me there in the room. She did not speak a word the
entire time, not even as she approached the door to leave.

“Leiset!” I finally
said in anguish. “I had thought your lecture would be terrible, but
this silence is a thousand times worse. Please, just tell me what a
vile, unfaithful trollop I’ve been and be done with it!”

Leiset turned slowly to
me. Her face was not angry as I expected but instead very
sorrowful. “Aenna, you’re not a vile trollop. Unfaithful, yes, but
to a husband who does not, of late, deserve your faith. You know I
believe in the sanctity of marriage in the eyes of the Gods. His
Majesty broke that sanctity when he struck you, if not every other
time he cut you with his hateful words. I know I speak treason to
say it, but I have loathed him since he began tearing you apart. I
despise him for what he has done to you, and I do not trust him to
make things right, despite any assurances I have spoken to you in
an effort to cheer you.”

“Then why are you angry
with Jarik? I can see it in your eyes, Leiset.”

“I am angry with him
for not taking you away sooner.”

I was stunned. The good
and proper Leiset seemed to be telling me that she wished my
Champion had shed his honour to his position and King and had
stolen me away. “He couldn’t do that, Leiset. You know he had a
duty to his cousin and King. Surely you can’t mean to tell me you
wish he had cast aside honour in favour of his affections for
me?”

“He had a duty to
protect you. Regardless of his affections, he should have taken you
away from Endren before Kurit could have struck you. And where was
he when this occurred? What if your husband had been so drunk that
instead of merely hitting you he instead put his hands around your
throat? Where was your Champion when you lay on the floor of the
King’s workroom, stunned senseless?”

“That’s unfair, Leiset.
Jarik can’t watch over me at every minute. He’s human.”

“He should have known
something like this was coming. He should have foreseen it and
taken you away.”

“I would not have let
him,” I said firmly. “I had no intention of leaving Kurit to run
this kingdom in his drunken state.”

“Which is precisely why
Jarik should have intervened. He could have taken you back to
Staelorn.”

“Leiset, really, he
could not have known that Kurit would strike me.”

“Why not? I knew it
would happen!” The very moment she spoke the words, she put her
hands to her paled face. She slumped against the door’s frame as
she closed her eyes and began to weep.

I stood still, stunned
by the entire conversation, and not knowing what to do.

Soon she lifted her
reddened eyes to me and said, “I knew the day would come when he
would strike you. I could see it in his anger. He would never
strike his mother, though it was truly she that angered him. I knew
he would hurt you. I feared he might even kill you.” She hung her
head shamefully and whispered, “I should not condemn Jarik. You are
right of that. I condemn myself. I should have acted myself. I
should have said something, perhaps to you, perhaps to Jarik, but I
was afraid. I was afraid to commit the treasonous act and possibly
be sent away. I was afraid you would be angry with me for the
suggestion, and I could not bear that. I was weak, and I am
sorry.”

“I would not have
believed you, but I would not have been angry with you either,” I
said. “I admit I may have thought you to be overreacting, but I
wouldn’t have condemned you for it, and I certainly wouldn’t have
let you be sent away.”

She nodded, still
looking towards the floor. “I should have known that as well. I was
foolish. I was a foolish coward, and it could have cost you your
life. I have to live with that.” She began to go to her room and
close the door.

I stepped forward and
held the door open, reaching to touch her shoulder with my other
hand. “Leiset, don’t blame yourself on this,” I said.

She turned her eyes to
me briefly and said, “I do, and I always shall.” I moved to embrace
her, but she stepped away from me. “No, Aenna. Your intention of
comfort is kind and appreciated, but I cannot accept it. Please, I
know I haven’t the right to ask anything of you, but please leave
me to my penance.”

I let her close the
door without another word. I felt quite selfish, for there I had
been with my constant tears and suffering, when my friend was
suffering as well. I had not comforted her. I had not even known
she needed it.

I sighed and went about
putting out the lamps. Then I went to the bed and fell backwards
upon it, not bothering to get under the sheets, as it was a warm
and somewhat humid night. I remained where I had fallen for almost
half an hour, just staring at the canopy in the darkness. I thought
of how I had been before meeting Kurit. I had been strong and
independent. I needed no one back then and was proud of that.

Then I thought of how
things had changed. I had had my moments of strength and
independence—I had rebuilt part of Endren, and I had fled from my
captors in Wusul on my own. I imagined that if someone had told me
my own story but with the names changed, I would have considered
the woman who had done such things to be impressively strong. I
thought about Raelik’s birth and realized that I would have found
the lady of the story to be quite valiant.

Yet, despite knowing
that this was my own life, I could not apply the same
considerations to myself. I knew all too well that I had been mad
with fear when giving birth to my son and on the entire journey
home. I knew my own mind well enough to recognize that it was not
strength that had motivated me in building the new part of Endren
but rather a sad and desperate need to be away from my personal
troubles.

I sighed again, feeling
pathetic. It seemed everything that I should be respectable for
was, in fact, an example of my weakness. I was not the Good Queen
Aenna as they called me. I was the foolish girl I had always been,
only weaker and needier since having left the Traveller’s
Torch.

I turned over onto my
side and stared at the moonlight on the floor where it shone
through the windowed balcony doors. I wondered if Jarik was
sleeping or if he was awake and tortured by self-doubt as I
was.

I pulled a pillow from
the other side of the bed and wrapped my arms around it as though
it were Jarik. Though of course it felt nothing like him, the
thought of lying in his arms was a sweet comfort. I imagined his
arms encircling me, protecting me. I imagined that I could feel him
softly kissing my forehead and perhaps hear him whisper that
everything would be fine.

Then I found myself
worrying that our intimacy earlier in the day might result in him
pulling away from me. I began to fear that he would feel sufficient
guilt to make him not wish to hold me at all any more, and I almost
wept at the thought. I knew that I needed him a great deal, though
I hated myself for it.

I flung the pillow away
from me, irritated that I’d worked myself into the beginning of
tears. I sat up in the bed and brushed my hands on my cheeks
roughly. I considered telling Jarik that I was fine and no longer
needed him but sighed again when I realized he would not believe
me. He knew that I needed him. And I needed him too much to cut him
out of my heart.

My head felt cluttered,
and the room felt stifling. I rose from the bed and opened the
balcony doors. The night air swept over me, and though it was warm
and humid, it was refreshing compared to the stale indoor air.

I stepped out onto the
balcony, eyes closed, inhaling deeply of the sweet summer air. It
brought to me the scents of trees and grass and life, and I let it
soothe me. I could hear the wind in the trees around the cottage,
and the sound relaxed me further.

When I opened my eyes
and leaned forward on the railing, I caught a movement to my side
in the darkness. I turned quickly and saw a figure on Jarik’s
balcony. I was momentarily startled until I saw in the moonlight
that it was, in fact, Jarik himself. He was watching me and had
leaned forward in his chair when I had moved to my balcony’s
edge.

“I’m not going to pitch
myself off,” I said quietly.

I could barely see him
nod as he said, “I know. Just be careful that you don’t fall.”

I wondered what he was
thinking: was he looking at me in my thin nightdress and wishing he
could touch me, or was he wishing that I had not come outside and
disturbed his reverie? “I’ll be fine, Jarik,” I said in
reassurance. “I always am, eventually.”

Jarik said nothing, and
I felt odd under his continued gaze. A shiver passed over me
despite the warm wind. I turned and went back into my chambers,
closing the doors behind me.

I sat back on the
bed and stared into the air before me.
Did he believe me?
I wondered.
Does he believe that I shall be fine? I
don’t feel fine. Did he see that?

Another chill passed
over me, though I was not actually cold. I turned and looked at the
pillow that I had tossed aside before and found myself wishing that
Jarik were with me and holding me. I wished that I could be strong
and independent, but I had to admit to myself that I was neither in
that moment, and truly, I longed for Jarik’s comfort.

I decided that I could
not handle just sitting there and staring at that lifeless pillow a
moment longer. I rose, walked quickly from my room, and went to
Jarik’s door. But there I paused, my hand about to knock, when I
was overcome again with irritation and shame at my own
weakness.

I placed my hands and
forehead on his door and leaned upon it. It was solid against my
skin, and I imagined it was Jarik’s armoured chest. The thought of
being close to him took hold of my mind, and I found myself opening
the door without bothering to knock at all.

When I entered the
room, I saw him standing in the doorway to the balcony. A small
lamp by his bed was lit, and its light was sufficient that I could
see his sad face as he beheld me.

“I did not come to
seduce you,” I blurted, though I know not why.

He replied simply, “I
know.”

I sighed and put my
arms across my chest, each hand on the opposite upper arm, as if I
were cold, though I was not. I looked at the floor in shame, not
knowing what to say.

My obviously troubled
demeanour gave him concern, and he approached me. Gently, he put
his hands over my own and then moved one under my chin to tip my
face up to look at him. He looked as though he were about to speak,
but did not. Instead, he just gently caressed my cheek and hair and
then pulled me into an embrace.

“I need you,” I
whispered. “I need this, to be in your arms. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be
sorry for, Aenna. I love you. I am always here for you. You know
that. I would rather know of your troubles and be some small
comfort to you than to suspect you might be troubled but fear to
tell me.”