The Rose Throne (27 page)

Soon, soon.

And then it was done.

He breathed heavily. “We should not have done that,” he said.

“No,” she said.

Then he kissed her again, this time more tenderly. She could taste the cinnamon from dinner on his lips and his tongue.

“And now what?” he asked, breathless.

“I suppose we must go on as before,” she said.

“Pretending,” he said.

“Yes.” She could not look him in the eyes. There was no hope for their love. She could not marry anyone but Edik. And Kellin had his own responsibilities, to his kingdom, to his own estate, to Edik, and to
Princess Ailsbet now. There was the prophecy to consider, and a thousand other things, all having nothing to do with them. It was so complicated.

“We do it for our kingdoms. And for the ekhono. And for the weyrs,” said Kellin, making it sound more simple than it seemed to her.

He left her there alone, and she recited the prophecy again. One child with both weyrs? Two islands becoming one? She wished she had no doubts about it. For her sacrifice to be worth it, she needed the prophecy to come true.

E
ARLY THE NEXT MORNING
, Ailsbet went to Issa’s rooms and knocked cautiously. Issa answered the door, looking as if she had not slept all night. Her face was blotched with red and her eyes had dark circles under them.

“What is it?” asked Issa.

“What happened last night?” Ailsbet said. “I saw Kellin hurrying toward your rooms. He must have spoken to you, and he will not see me this morning. He has barred even his servants from his room.”

Issa flushed.

“What did you say to him?” Ailsbet asked. “Did
you hurt him? Condemn him? You knew that he could not refuse to marry me in front of my father.”

Issa lifted her chin. “He admitted at last that he loved me.”

Ailsbet shook her head. Issa had made things worse for all of them. “If I ever fall in love, I hope that I shall retain some sense.”

“If you ever fall in love, you will be betrothed, or married, to Kellin,” said Issa.

“Marriage never stopped my father from pursuing any woman he thought he loved,” said Ailsbet.

“You are not like your father in that way, I don’t think,” said Issa. “You are not like him at all, in your personality, however much you look like him.”

“I can be as ruthless as he is,” said Ailsbet.

“Not for your own selfish reasons, however. That is not why you are marrying Kellin. But perhaps once the prophecy is fulfilled, everything will be different, for all of us,” said Issa.

Did anyone truly believe that now? Ailsbet wondered. “That is your final choice, then?” she asked. “You choose not to have Kellin? To give him to me so that you can fulfill the prophecy with Edik? What if the prophecy still does not come true? How will you live with yourself then?”

Issa’s head bowed, and she said no more. Ailsbet
left her rooms and went out to the courtyard to watch her father’s guard battle with swords and taweyr. She could not join in, but watching the conflict, hearing their grunts and the clash of steel on steel fed her taweyr in a way she had not allowed before.

That night, Ailsbet went to see Edik. For all her doubts about his suitability as a king, she wanted to warn him about the possibility of his own lack of taweyr, about Lady Pippa and the danger of her becoming pregnant with the king’s child.

“I’m in no mood for company,” Edik said, greeting her at the door. After a moment, though, he stepped back, letting her in.

“You seem unsettled. Why?” Ailsbet asked.

“I am afraid of Princess Marlissa,” he said simply.

Ailsbet was astonished at this. “What is there to fear in her? She never has a harsh word to say, and she treats you with perfect respect.”

“That is what I fear. She makes no mistakes, and I make so many. I know she must think badly of me, yet she never says a word. How can I believe anything she says? She will marry me, and then she will hate me, and all the while she will be smiling.” This was far more rational and endearing than anything Ailsbet had heard Edik say in weeks.

“I’m sure she will open up to you in time,”
Ailsbet said. “You have only just started to become acquainted. And you are always with dozens of others in the court, never alone. There are five years until you are married, and by then you will have grown into a man closer to Issa’s equal than you are now. Then when you are wed, you will have time to spend alone with each other. You will see her as she truly is, and she will see you.”

“That terrifies me even more. What if she sees me truly and she hates me? Better to show her a false face.”

Ailsbet smiled.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I only want what is best for you, Edik,” said Ailsbet.

“And what is that?” asked Edik. “Do you know?”

“Edik, I did not come to war with you. I wanted to make peace. To give you some advice before—” Before she either left Rurik for Aristonne or was betrothed to Kellin.

“All these years, I mocked you for having no weyr. But now I think you are well quit of it,” said Edik suddenly.

“What do you mean?” asked Ailsbet.

“You have never dreamed of going to the continent as I have? Not to Aristonne, of course. They
would never let me in there. But I think I would like to travel to Caracassa or the Three Kingdoms. Or anyplace where the name of Rurik is only a legend and little more. Where the weyrs are only stories.”

“Are you serious?”

Edik laughed. “I dream about it,” he said. “Of leaving here and going someplace where I am not a prince, where I could live my life without thinking about taweyr and death and taxes.”

Ailsbet felt a surge of love for her brother. He was not so different from her, after all.

“But, of course, it is impossible. Father would never let me go,” said Edik. “Not while I am living and his only heir with taweyr.”

No, thought Ailsbet, he would not. It seemed there were advantages in being a useless princess. Her father would not pursue her.

O
N THE DAY OF THE
double betrothal, Issa woke feeling muzzy-headed and languorous. It was still dark outside her window, but she could hear movement in the outer chambers. She wished for silence to calm herself, then pushed aside the bedcovers and stood to face the day. In addition to her own servants, King Haikor had sent six maids to help her, and they chattered incessantly through the morning.

Even with the additional maids, it took three hours until she was fully dressed. The shimmering green gown she wore was made from yards of silk,
adorned with seed pearls and precious gems. Her slippers were crusted with matching jewels and were tight around her toes. Her shoulders ached from the weight of the gown, and her neck and head were sore from the ministrations to her hair.

She had seen the end result in the mirror, the way her hair had been teased high above her head, with little ringlets all around her neck and flowers tucked into a wreath that looked almost alive. It could have been alive in truth, if she were allowed to use her neweyr, but on today of all days she did not dare to flout the king’s orders. She would have felt steadier if there had been anything that felt familiar about the day’s routine, but it seemed as if she had entered another realm, even more different than when she had first come to the palace in Rurik.

When she stepped out of her rooms, Issa found two guards waiting for her. They helped her climb the steps to the ramparts so that she could look out onto the city.

King Haikor had commanded that all the shops in the city be closed for the day. Issa could smell food being cooked in the palace kitchens, to be passed out to the thousands who lined the streets, which were covered with flowers. Issa felt a pang of guilt at the sight, knowing the neweyr that had died in
them as they had been pulled from their stems.

The sun shone brightly, almost blinding her as she smiled and waved to the crowds. She could see Edik on the other side of the gate, and Ailsbet with him, as extravagantly dressed as she was, in a red gown that shone brighter than her hair. How the gown had been made so quickly she did not know, but King Haikor must have paid well for it. She did not look nearly as uncomfortable as Issa felt, however.

Kellin was with the guards down below. He was dressed in a uniform and cape, half-armor studded with rubies and gray feathers. He looked wonderful, and he was staring at her quite openly. King Haikor himself was already waiting for them within the Throne Room.

There were cannons shot off, one for each of Edik’s thirteen years, and then a pause followed by seventeen cannons for Princess Ailsbet’s age. Issa was conscious then that she was now eighteen, five years older than Edik. Would the difference in age always bother her? Kellin was two years older than she was, at twenty.

They waited for the haze of smoke from the cannons to die down. Then, at last, it was time for the ceremony itself. Issa walked down the ramparts and into the Throne Room, which was nearly silent after
the noise outside. She and Edik were to be betrothed first, then Kellin and Ailsbet.

Issa knelt before King Haikor with Prince Edik’s shoulders touching hers. His neck was thin against the stiff collar of his uniform, and the sapphire crown on his head looked heavy and uncomfortable.

Behind them, the Throne Room was filled with nobles and some merchants upon whom the king wished to show favor. By the time they were all in their proper positions, it was past noon.

The binding official stood in front of King Haikor, upright, a dark hood over his head so his face could not be seen.

He looked too much like an executioner, Issa thought, as she had seen one recently. The black hood was the same, though an executioner was taller and wider, strong enough to kill with an ax alone, if his taweyr failed to stop the heart. The hood was meant to show that all those who stood before marriage were the same, no matter their rank.

It was all Issa could do to breathe. One of the guards behind Issa nudged her, reminding her to bow before King Haikor, giving him a final obeisance as Princess Marlissa of Weirland before she was transformed into Princess Marlissa of Weirland and
Rurik. A betrothal was in many ways as binding as a wedding.

Then Edik took her hand in his gloved ones.

“The highest of the land have gathered today,” said the binding official. “We are here to see a contract made between this man and this woman.”

Issa felt Edik stiffen beside her. She wanted to smile at him, to reassure him that he had no reason to fear. But she could not make herself do it.

“This is a binding contract to be held until the death of the one or the other. King or queen, lord or lady, duke or duchess, man or woman, it is the same.”

Issa tuned out the droning words and stared behind the official’s head at the bloody history of Rurik depicted on the walls.

She heard a cough behind her and realized that the official had stopped speaking.

It was Edik’s turn.

“I swear to abide by the contract of this betrothal and to be united in matrimony with you, Princess Marlissa of Weirland and Rurik, when I reach my majority. May we be joyful together in our impending nuptials and always mindful of our duties to our peoples and always conscious of the history of our kingdoms that has drawn us together.” Edik was
nervous and stammered more than once, but he was sincere.

Issa thought that he might not be the man she loved now, but she had hope that she might come to love him in time.

When he was finished, he placed on Issa’s middle finger a large ring of sapphires and diamonds, fumbling slightly as he did so. It was his mother’s ring, which King Haikor had given to her at their wedding.

Then it was Issa’s turn: “I swear to abide by the contract of this betrothal and to be united in matrimony with you, Prince Edik of Rurik, on the day you reach your majority. May we and our kingdoms be joyful together as we sow peace between our peoples, and may the future bring to both our kingdoms the finest imaginings of all our hearts.”