Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6)

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Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6) Page 16

by Christine Pope


  “Over here.”

  The prince followed his father into the darkness, moving from the chamber we had just entered to a smaller one with shelves all along the walls. I kept close to Prince Harlin, for I did not want to be too far away from that candle. It was so very dark down here, and I fancied I heard the squeaking of rats in the distance. I tried to tell myself that my imagination was playing tricks on me, that of course they would make sure these storerooms were free of vermin, and yet I couldn’t help startling at every questionable sound.

  Along all the shelves were ranks of boxes in various sizes. None of them seemed to be labeled, and I wondered how the king and his treasurers possibly kept track of everything contained within them. But he seemed to know where he was going, for he went to the far wall and lifted one of the wooden containers, then pulled off the lid. Even in the light of that one wan candle, fine threads of gold gleamed within the shadows of the box.

  “Is that…?” Prince Harlin began, then hesitated.

  “Gold,” his father said. “Pure gold, spun for me by Annora here. Hers is a most miraculous gift, for all she must have is the commonest of materials — straw, which is grown in every pasture — and she can turn it into this most precious of metals.” He set down the box lid and lifted the skein of golden thread from the box so the prince could see its bulk.

  Truly, as I had worked, I had not thought that what I produced was quite so significant. But seeing it held up like that, in the king’s trembling hands, I realized that what I created each night truly was a fortune. No wonder he refused to let me go.

  Prince Harlin’s expression seemed to mix wonder and skepticism, and he glanced over at me, brows drawing together. “Is this truly your work, my lady?”

  I hated to lie to him, but I knew I had no choice. Tobyn’s identity, his gifts, must forever remain a secret. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  His frown deepened. “How is this possible?”

  “I — ” Once again, I found myself struggling to find a reply that would not incriminate the man I loved, nor make it sound as if I possessed forbidden powers myself. But the prince required some answer, so I said, “To be sure, Your Highness, I cannot precisely say. I only know that one day my sister was joking with me, saying that I spun thread so fine that I could probably do the same with the straw in the stable, rather than the wool I was using. It seemed such a silly notion that I had to try it. So I did…but what wound itself around the bobbin of my spinning wheel was not straw, but golden thread.”

  “There must be some kind of magic at work here,” Prince Harlin said in musing tones.

  My blood went cold, for I knew all too well the penalty for using such forbidden powers, and I had hoped the prince would not question me too closely, not with his father standing there and practically glowing with pride at this astonishing addition to his treasury.

  The king, perhaps realizing that the last thing he wanted was to have the notion of foul magic attached to the miracle of my gold thread, broke in, saying sharply, “Of course it is not magic. Look at this lovely young woman — how can you accuse her of using something so dreadful to create something so wondrous? No, let us say rather it is a gift from the gods, who have chosen to smile down upon her — and indeed our kingdom, too, for Purth benefits from this miracle as well.” His gaze sharpened as he stared at his son. “And this is why she must be forever joined to our house, so that there is no risk of anyone else being able to exploit this talent of hers.”

  In a terrible way, I supposed that what the king had just said did make some sense. The kingdom was prosperous enough, but its fields of sheep and cattle, and its few mines to the north, could not compete with the fabled riches of Keshiaar, which lay beyond our southern border. Yes, treaties had kept the peace between the kingdoms for generations, and there was no reason to think the current Hierarch of Keshiaar would do anything to break that peace. Still, the knowledge that one possessed the means to buy whatever armies and armaments necessary to secure one’s borders was a powerful motivator when it came to making sure the source of that wealth could not get away.

  And so it seemed I was fairly trapped, for I could not do anything to protest that I did not possess such a skill after all. The gold had appeared each night, which meant it had to have come from somewhere. Tobyn’s gifts, if I revealed them now, would be enough to keep the kingdom’s coffers overflowing with gold and gems, but I doubted the king would show him the same consideration he had shown me. Instead, Tobyn would be put to work night and day, for a user of magic such as he would not be afforded any courtesy. No, he would most likely be told he should be glad that he was not immediately put to death.

  Prince Harlin fixed his father with a stern look. “Whatever Mistress Kelsden’s skills, they do not warrant my putting aside Princess Lorelis. That would create very bad blood between Purth and Farendon, two lands who have always been allies. Besides — ”

  He stopped then, distress clear enough in his fine features, although he did not look at me. I thought I understood the cause of that distress — their match had of course been made for the sake of politics, but it seemed Prince Harlin cared for his wife, and had no desire to have the marriage dissolved. In that moment, I allowed myself a tiny bit of relief. Surely there was no way the king could force his son to do such a thing. He would have to abandon this mad plan.

  But King Elsdon also seemed to know what his son was thinking. A sneer pulled at his thin lips, and he snapped, “What, do you fancy yourself in love with the girl? Love is for commoners, and for those who do not have to concern themselves with matters of state. At any rate, Lorelis is a pale, plain little thing, certainly no match for Mistress Kelsden here.”

  Was any compliment ever less welcome? I stared down at the stone floor beneath my feet, wishing myself miles away. Unfortunately, I did not possess any of Tobyn’s gifts, and so could only remain where I was. At least it seemed as if I was meant to stand meekly by while these two great men discussed my fate. I did not think I could have trusted myself to respond with any great wit or intelligence, given my current circumstances.

  Prince Harlin did not appear to suffer from the same constraints, however, for he retorted, “Whatever your feelings on the matter, Father, I would ask you to remember that Her Highness is both my wife and the daughter of the king of Farendon, and therefore is deserving of your respect at least, even if you cannot accord her any particular affection.”

  “Since she has not been able to perform the only function for which she is required, I am not so sure she is deserving of my respect.” The king glanced from his son to me, and I kept my eyes downcast. I did not want to see what he might be thinking. “But we will leave that aside for now. I only wished for you to see what Mistress Kelsden has to offer our kingdom, so that you may make an informed decision. I will let you think on it.”

  “I could think for a year, and yet I would not change my mind.”

  No apology this time — not that I thought I required one. Rather, the apology should be given to Princess Lorelis, for putting her in the middle of a very ugly quarrel.

  “Do not be so sure of that,” the king said darkly. He placed the skein of golden thread, which he had been holding the entire time, back in the box, then set its lid on top and returned it to its place on the shelf behind him. “But we will leave this for now. I find I weary of trying to make you see reason.”

  With that, he turned and began to head back toward the door of the treasury. Lips set in anger, Prince Harlin followed, candle still in hand, and so I took up the rear. Neither of the men glanced back to see how I fared, and I realized they probably did not care overmuch. I was the cause of their argument, or at least the one they would admit to. The true cause was King Elsdon’s greed, but neither of them were probably inclined to admit to such a thing.

  In silence we returned to the main floor of the palace. The prince gave me a curt bow and then stalked off, no doubt to his own apartments. Finally, the king honored me with a glance, but I wou
ld rather he hadn’t; something in it was cool and appraising, although he put on a smile as he looked down at me.

  “He will see reason soon enough, Annora. In the meantime, you must be patient.”

  I nodded. In that moment, I did not trust myself to speak, for something that might have caused me grief later most likely would have left my lips.

  We stood outside the door to the audience chamber. From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the footmen approach, and the king nodded at the man.

  “See that Mistress Kelsden is returned safely to her apartments.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” the footman replied with a bow. “My lady?”

  I went to him, then followed him as he led me down the corridor, away from the king. With each step, my heart seemed to sink further. Yes, the High Court had given me my freedom, but it was clear enough that His Majesty cared nothing for its judgment. He would keep me here until Prince Harlin capitulated.

  And if he does not? my mind taunted me.

  I feared I had no answer for that.

  Chapter 12

  I tried to compose myself. The king might be flouting the law at the moment, but, as Master Jamsden had pointed out, he was not above it. All I must do was wait for Tobyn to come to me this evening, and then I would tell him of the terrible events of this afternoon. He would enlist Master Jamsden’s aid once more, and my counsel would file some sort of an appeal. That was the next step, was it not? I couldn’t be sure, as my knowledge of the law was shaky at best. Besides, my thoughts kept darting here and there, agitated, unsettled, like a mouse in a field with a hawk hovering low. No matter what I did, I could not seem to stop shaking.

  What if the king did prevail at last? Prince Harlin was a good man, but I did not know if he had the strength to continue to defy his father. He might eventually decide that it was better to give in to preserve the peace in his own home. Although annulments were very rare, they had occurred several times in my kingdom’s history, mainly for the same reason King Elsdon had stated — failure to provide an heir. For of course barrenness was always the woman’s fault.

  I glanced at the hour candle on the mantel. Still some time before dinner, not that I would have the appetite to eat anything once my tray arrived, considering the way my thoughts were roiling. Perhaps if I had not met Tobyn, had never tasted his kiss, then I would not be so dismayed at the thought of becoming the prince’s wife. After all, he was not so far off from me in age, and handsome and honorable. Many young women might have dreamed of such elevation in their station, combined with such a personable man, but I was not one of those women. I did not want to be a princess. I only wanted Tobyn, and a life far away from the king’s machinations.

  Rashelle had been keeping away from me, seeming to sense the thundercloud of my current mood. But a knock at the door came then, and she hastened to answer it, even as I sat and brooded into the flames dancing in the hearth. That knock did not improve my state of mind at all, for I guessed it was Lord Edmar coming to crow over me, or perhaps the king himself, full of plans as to how I might seduce the prince away from his wife’s side.

  Then I heard Rashelle exclaim, “Your Highness!” and I rose to my feet at once. Had Prince Harlin really come to see me in my chambers? What could such a visit possibly mean?

  But as I made my way to the entry of my suite, I found myself stopping quite dead, for standing there was not the prince, but a young woman attired in a gown of soft blue silk, sapphires gleaming around her throat and in her ears.

  I had never seen her, but I knew this must be Princess Lorelis. At once I swept into a curtsey, murmuring, “Your Highness.”

  She gave me a sort of abstracted frown, gaze flicking sideways toward Rashelle. “Mistress Kelsden, if I might speak to you in private?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Rashelle, if you would — ”

  “Yes, my lady.” She bobbed a curtsey of her own, then fled out the door. I thought I detected just the slightest hint of regret in her expression, as if she would have dearly liked to stay behind so she might hear what the princess had to say to me.

  Well, she was not the only one. I also wished — but at the same time dreaded — to know the purpose of this interview.

  No, actually, I thought I knew quite well what that might be.

  “Some tea, Your Highness?” I inquired as I led her into the main salon. “I fear the water is not quite as hot as you might desire, since Rashelle brought it up almost half an hour ago now, but — ”

  “No, nothing at all,” she replied, then added, “Thank you.”

  By then she had stopped with her back to the fireplace. It was not yet dusk, and so the candles had not been lit. However, enough light came in through the windows for me to see that King Elsdon’s estimation of the princess had really been quite unkind. She had thick fawn-colored hair piled in elaborate braids and curls on the top of her head, and her eyes were large and brown, framed with heavy dark lashes. Yes, her skin did not possess much color, but the texture was fine, and her features were regular enough. Perhaps she was not what a man might consider to be a raging beauty, but she was certainly pretty enough.

  “Oh,” she said, faltering somewhat as I turned to face her. “It is true. You are so very beautiful.”

  I began to shake my head, but she forestalled me.

  “No, it is true. I had hoped it was not, that the king was merely exaggerating, but — ”

  “The king came and spoke to you?” I asked, forgetting my manners in my indignation. It was one thing for him to browbeat and cajole his son, but to come to this poor young woman with his ridiculous demands?

  “Yes,” she said. One beringed hand twisted in the heavy silk of her skirt. Truly, she appeared so ill at ease that one might have thought she was the daughter of a merchant and I the princess, rather than the reverse. I began to see why Prince Harlin would fight so hard to protect her. She seemed to awaken that instinct in anyone who gazed upon her.

  Except, of course, her father-in-law.

  “He should not have done that, Your Highness,” I told her. “Especially since nothing is going to come of this ridiculous notion of his.”

  “You may say that, Mistress Kelsden, but I have lived here as the king’s daughter for the past three years. I have seen his tempers, his willfulness. He always gets his way. Always.” Tears glittered in her eyes but did not fall. She blinked. “And he will get his way in this. I will be sent home in disgrace, and you will be the next queen of Purth.”

  I stared at her, searching for the right words to say. The princess seemed quite defeated already. My first instinct was to tell her she was being silly and jumping to conclusions, just as I might have admonished my own sister Iselda when she launched into a particularly elaborate flight of fancy. However, I knew that was not the best way to approach the situation.

  “Please sit down, Your Highness,” I begged her. “Let us discuss this calmly.”

  She took in a breath and nodded, then made her way to the nearest divan and sank down upon it as if her legs had given way beneath her. I wished she had not refused my offer of tea, for at least that would have given me something to do. But since she had, I could only settle myself awkwardly on the edge of the divan that faced hers. After I sat, I wondered whether I had made a serious blunder, for perhaps I should have waited for her to invite me to sit down.

  If I had, Princess Lorelis showed no sign of noticing. Indeed, she was far too bound up in her own worry and misery to notice any gaffes on my part. She knotted her fingers in her lap and stared at me with imploring brown eyes.

  “Has His Highness spoken with you?” I asked.

  A nod, but she still looked stricken. “Yes, and he said that I should pay no mind to his father’s blusterings, that nothing would come of all this.”

  “You see? His Highness is steadfast, and I certainly have no designs upon him.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Of course not,” I said stoutly. “That is not to say that His High
ness is not a very fine person, but I would never conspire to steal someone’s husband from them. At any rate, I am in love with another, and would never even think of anyone else but him.”

  “Oh,” the princess replied, eyes widening. “I had not heard that. Who is he?”

  I hesitated. Perhaps it had been foolish of me to tell her that I cared for someone else, but I had only been seeking to reassure her that my heart was already given elsewhere. “I — I cannot say, Your Highness. It is better that no one knows who he is, for then he will not be in any kind of danger.”

  “Ah, of course.” She nodded again, expression serious. No doubt she was thinking of her intemperate father-in-law, and how he definitely had the capacity to seek vengeance on anyone I might name as a suitor, and therefore be seen as a rival to the prince.

  “So I think it is only a matter of standing firm, and eventually the king will see reason.” I had to hope that would be the case. In that moment, I felt as if I was speaking as much to reassure myself as I was the princess. I realized, upon looking at her more closely, that she must not be much more than a year or two older than I, which meant she must have been very young when she was sent here to be Prince Harlin’s bride. How lucky she was that at least her future husband had been young as well, and handsome and kind. Many princesses were not nearly so fortunate.

  “His Majesty is not so very good at seeing reason, I fear,” the princess said, and then paused, as if she had just thought that saying such things to a commoner like myself was perhaps not all that wise. Then she made an off-hand gesture, perhaps in an attempt to brush away any self-doubt. “I thought him quite fearsome when I first came here, but in the beginning he was all joviality. It was only as time wore on, and His Highness and I still had no son, that I could see his patience with me beginning to wear thin.”

 

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