The Rose Throne (19 page)

Then suddenly, Issa heard a different, familiar voice. “Princess Marlissa.”

She looked up into the eyes of Duke Kellin.

“The king asked me to help you feel more at home here, since you and I are acquainted already.”

But Duke Kellin would make her feel more self-conscious than ever. Issa was suddenly aware of her disarray after her long weeks of travel.

She reached for the faint pull of the neweyr and embraced it, gradually feeling stronger. “I only need time to rest,” she said.

“Of course,” said Kellin. He nodded to a servant and asked him to show her to her rooms. Then he bowed and was gone.

Issa desperately wanted to call him back, but she knew she could not. He was King Haikor’s man here, and she dared not reveal what else she knew of him.

When she and her retinue were headed to her rooms, Issa heard the ekhono woman from Weirland complaining angrily about King Haikor’s treatment of Issa. “He makes it very clear how weak he finds her and Weirland itself. She should return home
immediately.” The woman looked red in the face, and her fists were clenched, as if she were ready to fight.

It took a moment for Issa to think of why the woman, so controlled before, had changed. It was the taweyr here in Rurik, and in the palace itself. Without neweyr to balance it, the taweyr made the woman overly aggressive.

“I am well. You are well. He has not harmed us,” she said calmly. “Beware the taweyr here.”

The ekhono woman took a breath and seemed to steady herself. But after a moment, she said, “King Haikor has more than one kind of poison.”

Was it any wonder that his court is as it is, Issa thought. How did his noblemen survive it? How did Kellin keep himself so calm?

Issa slept fitfully that night, dreaming of a joust between King Haikor and her father. She called out again and again to stop the spear from entering her father’s chest, but started awake before she saw the end of the dream.

A
ILSBET ENVIED THE OTHER
princess’s poise. She had meant to say some words of welcome of her own, and thank her for the gift of the fine book. But Princess Marlissa was so perfect, every movement so graceful, every part of her dainty and feminine. Next to her, Ailsbet felt huge and ungainly, and when she opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was her own anger and mistrust.

When the Weirese visitors were gone, King Haikor laughed. “What a gift she brought you,” he said to Edik. “That little black puppy is good for nothing but to be dinner for my true hounds.”

Edik shook his head and held the young hound close to his chest while the king turned to Ailsbet.

“And you, a book for a princess? As though you had nothing better to do with your time than read,” said King Haikor. “But in Weirland, I suppose there is nothing else to do. And a woman there does not think of beauty.”

Ailsbet rather preferred a woman who thought of more than beauty.

“The dagger she gave to me was fine enough, but did you see how she had her hair braided like that, in one single plait down her back? Like a peasant woman, except that in Rurik even peasant women have better taste. What did you think of her, Edik?”

Edik shrugged. “She was old,” he said.

That made King Haikor laugh again. “Old indeed. Old in the way her lips press together, in the way her eyes squint, in the way that she looked in judgment on us all. I daresay that if she caught you having a bit of fun, she would never forgive you. She will only get older and more disagreeable, I am afraid. But you must do your duty to your kingdom. It is what princes are made for. And kings.” He nudged his son.

At this, Ailsbet had enough, and she returned to her own rooms and her flute. She played indifferently, however, unable to find her usual focus.

A knock on her door startled her, and she found Duke Kellin outside. She was sure from his expression that he had some distasteful message from her father.

“What is it?” she asked. She reminded herself that she had seen him with the ekhono girl on the coast last summer. She knew his secret, and he did not know hers. She had power over him, and no reason to be afraid.

“It has been some time since I had a chance to speak to you, Princess Ailsbet,” said Duke Kellin. “I only wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your loss.”

Ailsbet blinked at him, for a moment too surprised to speak.

“Your mother and your betrothed,” said Kellin. “Lord Umber.”

No one had spoken of Queen Aske since the funeral in the winter. It was as if King Haikor had never been married before, as if Lady Pippa were the only noblewoman on whom he had ever bestowed his favor. As for Lord Umber, he was only
mentioned when King Haikor wished to embarrass Ailsbet.

“You did not know my mother well, and you did not like Lord Umber,” said Ailsbet. “How can I believe you are genuine?”

“I did not like Lord Umber, it is true. But that is no fault of yours, and his loss must have been painful.”

His sympathy, whether real or not, made her uncomfortable. “You don’t know me at all,” said Ailsbet coldly.

“I should like to know you, if you would let me,” said Kellin.

“And why should I do that?” asked Ailsbet. Was this the beginning of his courting her, so he could assume the power that had belonged to Lord Umber as the betrothed of the king’s only daughter?

“Because you need a friend?” said Kellin. Seeing a hint of a smirk on his face, Ailsbet thought he must be amusing himself with her.

She thought of all the ladies of the court who had pretended to befriend her, through her childhood. She had seen through them, even when she was very young.

“I have lived my whole life without a single friend,” said Ailsbet. “Why should I need one now?”

The smile faded from Kellin’s face. “Let me tell you what I know of you,” he said. “You are indeed strong enough to live alone your whole life.”

He knew how to flatter better than anyone she had ever met. Ailsbet was annoyed with herself for almost liking this man.

“You do not wish to be known as your father’s daughter. You wish to be known as yourself. You are defiant in order to prove yourself.”

It was true enough. “And you are happy to be the invisible hand behind my father?” asked Ailsbet.

“Nothing would make me happier than to be invisible.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Ailsbet flatly. “No man wishes to be invisible.”

“Then I am no man,” said Duke Kellin. “My grandest hope is that the history books forget me and that my name is never mentioned again once I am dead. I hope that even those who know me will have difficulty remembering my name.”

Ailsbet shook her head. “I know that is not true,” she said.

“Oh? And how is that?” asked Duke Kellin.

“I saw you,” she burst out. “On the southern coast, when you were supposed to be on your way to Weirland to arrange for the betrothal.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Kellin stiffly.

“The girl. The boat. The ekhono hunters,” said Ailsbet.

“You must be mistaking me for someone else. Perhaps the ekhono hunters frightened you, and you became confused,” said Kellin blandly.

“It was you,” she said. “I was not confused. And I aided you. I sent the ekhono hunters away.”

“Why should ekhono hunters come for me?” asked Duke Kellin, still trying to pretend his innocence.

“Because the girl you were helping into the boat to Weirland was ekhono. And I suspect that if I were to begin to ask questions, I might find that more than one ekhono hunter has had an encounter with you over the last few years, though they may not have known your true identity. If I had them all together, what stories would they tell of you, I wonder?”

Kellin stared at her, his lips pressed together. Finally, he bowed his head. “What is it you wish, then, Princess Ailsbet?” he asked.

She was annoyed with him. “I don’t wish for anything. If you imagine that I am trying to win some favor from you, you are mistaken. I do not need your favors.”

“Then why speak to me of this?” he asked.

“I only wanted you to stop lying to me. My father loves to be lied to, and all the rest of the court has become used to it. But I am not one of them.”

“I serve my kingdom,” said Kellin.

Ailsbet had heard him say the same thing before. “Not the kingdom my father imagines you serve. That kingdom hates the ekhono.”

“I serve the kingdom of Rurik as it should be,” said Kellin, his tone softer.

“Ah,” said Ailsbet. “And that is a kingdom with ekhono accepted as any other?”

“Yes.”

“This is the reason you wish to remain anonymous, then? Because it is the only way to help the ekhono?”

Kellin nodded.

“Good,” said Ailsbet. “I am glad of that. And in Weirland? Did you speak to the ekhono there? Did they greet you fondly?”

“My brother is ekhono,” said Kellin after some hesitation.

“Your brother?” Ailsbet did not know why she was surprised, but she was. The idea of Kellin having a brother felt strange. He seemed a man without any ties.

“Kedor is his name,” he added.

Now she had everything she needed to ruin
him. One word to her father and Kellin would be dead.

It made Ailsbet feel strangely close to him.

“You could do much for the kingdom in the future,” said Kellin.

“Me? I am only a princess, destined to be married off to someone even more invisible to history than you,” said Ailsbet.

“Perhaps,” said Kellin. “And perhaps not. Your brother is young and malleable. You could be the voice that counters what your father tells him. You could stand behind him when he comes to power, whisper the truth in his ear about the ekhono.”

“That is why you are here. Not for my father. But for my brother,” said Ailsbet.

“Not only your brother,” said Kellin. “For you, as well. You have the potential to wield a great deal of power, if you choose.”

“Invisible power,” said Ailsbet.

“Power nonetheless,” said Kellin.

And with that, Kellin left her chambers, leaving Ailsbet to consider what it might mean for her to have power. She had never wanted it, and she wanted it even less now. But Kellin was right, that was the only way that the ekhono could be safe in the long-term. And it was not only the ekhono who were
unsafe. The whole kingdom had become suspicious, grasping, and terrified since her father had taken the throne.

Ailsbet was ekhono herself. She should care for her own kind, should she not? But still, she wanted her music. And she hated power.

I
SSA SLEPT BADLY
her first night in Rurik. The sounds were completely different. She did not hear the baaing of the sheep outside the castle nor the chatter of the birds overhead. Instead, she heard the creak of the stones in the Tower as the wind whirled around them and the sound of the boats coming up the river to the port. The noises were not unpleasant, but still she woke up feeling tired and listless.

King Haikor had sent her four new servants to attend her. She had not asked for more servants, but it seemed the king thought no noblewoman, let
alone a princess, could manage with only two maidservants. The other servants who had come with her from her own country were not suited to attending the princess and had returned to Weirland. To send the new maids away would risk King Haikor’s displeasure, so they remained. They made Issa feel even more a stranger here. Their accents were sharper than she was used to, and they seemed always to be hurrying her along.

That morning, she spent hours having her hair done in the Rurese style, brushed and oiled, then wound into four tiny crowns in a row at the top of her head, while the rest of it was curled and left to hang on her neck—where it itched horribly. Then her trunk was opened and her gowns drawn out. They were shaken and cleaned and shaped. The servants looked at them dubiously. Then one asked if she might offer the princess a gown of her own as a gift. When she brought it, Issa realized that it had to be her best gown, but it was more elegant than anything she owned herself.