by D. E. Morris
“Connor,” Cailin laughed, “this is our friend, Misuzu...um...”
Misuzu smiled graciously and gave a deep bow before the boy. “Just Misuzu will do. No, I am not royalty, only a simple girl from Shihou.”
Pausing, Connor ran sweaty hands over his trousers as his face turned red. Eventually, he looked at Cailin and gave a nervous laugh. “I am so embarrassed.”
“It's all right, lad,” Jaryn said kindly. Hearing his own words, he suddenly looked a tad embarrassed himself. “I mean, Your Majesty.”
“Please...I haven't had anyone call me 'lad' since my grandfather was alive.” Looking at Jaryn, Connor offered him a genuine look of sympathy. “My deepest condolences for the losses you suffered. Please understand that I have never entertained the idea of attacking Siness or anyone, really. My armies are thin and growing thinner by the day. Any attack would be foolish on my part, though my father's council would have me think otherwise. I would not be surprised if whatever spies you may have found were sent by them.”
Unless the boy was a good actor, his words sounded genuine enough to subside some of the anger Jaryn felt hadn't left him since the night of the attack.
“Perhaps,” said Misuzu, “once we're all dressed and have had a bit of rest, we can speak on it more.”
“Yes.” Connor nodded with enthusiasm. “I would like that very much. We shall all sup together tonight.”
Jaryn and Cailin exchanged an urgent glance, his mouth curving into a frown. “Can we speak sooner? I would like to go back to Altaine as soon as possible.”
Crossing his arms, Connor mirrored the frown. “I'm sorry, I'm tied up all day. I'm late for a meeting now as it is and it's important for me to show that I can handle a demanding schedule.”
Jaryn nodded. “I understand.”
Her voice soft, Misuzu touched Jaryn's arm. “Would you like me to check on her?”
“No...no, it's all right.”
The doors opened once more as the guards outside allowed some of the servants to enter, each one tasked to show one of the three guests to their rooms. “Forgive me for asking this,” Connor hedged, “but if you would refrain from wandering or exploring the castle, it would save me a lot of grief.”
Everyone agreed, knowing they would likely be too tired to even desire to leave their rooms once they were settled. No one spoke a word as they walked down the hall, though there were those who had been employed at the castle when Cailin had been there and still remained now who gave her varied looks as she passed. If it wasn't open hostility in the eyes of her former friends, it was wonder at which she could only guess the meaning. With their three rooms side by side, they were shown in to find cozy quarters with beds, a wardrobe in each room, dresses laid out for the women, the clothes of a nobleman for Jaryn, and steaming tubs of water quickly prepared for all of them. Once they had all bathed and eaten a bit better than they had the night before, they slept most of the day away.
In the evening, Jaryn stood at his window dressed in a navy doublet, black trousers, and boots. Though they were a bit tight, he was appreciative of the kindness. His attitude toward Connor had changed considerably by the time he awoke. Laying in bed for a time, he replayed the entire morning to analyze the boy's expressions and the way he said things. As much as Jaryn wanted, even needed, to find someone on which to place the blame, he couldn't place it on Connor. Even if it turned out to be an Ibayish-based attack, Jaryn believed Connor to be innocent.
A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. Answering, he found Misuzu there in a white muslin shift and a red overdress laced up in the front. She was tugging at the lacing, moving her shoulders this way and that, and didn't bother to wait for an invitation before stalking past Jaryn into his room. “How do women wear these,” she complained, looking at herself in a long mirror with disdain. “It's so restricting! Help?”
Jaryn awkwardly moved toward to her to loosen the lacing on the back of her dress a bit. “Be thankful you weren't given the gown of a lady or even a noble. Those are much more confining than this. You got lucky. Is that better?”
Misuzu moved around a bit, then let go of a sigh of relief. “Much. Thank you.”
He fastened the knot before heading back to the door to peek out into the hall. “Have you seen Cailin?”
“No.” Sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace, Misuzu draped her long dark hair over her shoulder and began braiding. “I fell asleep fairly quickly and was only woken when I was told Connor would be summoning us for supper soon. They helped me dress, then left me alone.” She looked to the window. “I really didn't expect to sleep all day!”
“Neither did I,” Jaryn admitted quietly. Glancing over his shoulder to Misuzu, he asked, “Am I crazy to feel guilty about being here for so long...getting good rest when I know Ashlynn is in so much pain?”
Misuzu shook her head, her eyes soft. “Of course not.”
“All I want to do is get back home to her.”
They fell silent as Misuzu continued to plait her hair and Jaryn leaned against the open doorway to wait. Every now and then someone would pass, but there were few who even acknowledged Jaryn. Through these brief interactions, he was finding it easier to pick up on who was there at court to look for a better situation for themselves, and who was there because they probably had precious few other options. Those who acknowledged him by a slight pause to bow their head or bend their knee always tried to hold his gaze for longer than Jaryn would allow. He had known this type since he had known what it was to be amid castle life, long before he was ever elevated to his present station. Though at home, people like this amused him, here it only made him feel pity.
A squat man approached, balding with salt and pepper hair, dressed all in black. He regarded Jaryn with cold formality, but paused to dip his head in respect. “High King Jaryn, I presume?”
Jaryn uncrossed his arms and stood straighter. “Aye?”
“My name is Cedric Fintan. I am the high king's sheriff.”
The name was familiar and Jaryn nodded. “Fintan, yes. Cailin was your deputy.”
The older man gave a dispassionate nod. “Indeed she was. I have been sent to fetch you for the evening meal. Are you all ready to go?”
“Misuzu and I are, but we've not seen nor heard a peep from Cai since we parted earlier.”
“I will check on her.” Misuzu slid between the two men as she was finishing her braid. Both of them watched as she knocked on Cailin's door and disappeared inside after being granted entrance.
“Will there be very many people joining us?”
Jaryn's question made the older man shake his head. “It will be the four of us and the high king only.” Fintan's expression was pinched. “It is rare for his many counselors to lack the invitation to join him in his meals, so this will be a nice change for all of us.”
“You don't like the men in his council much, do you?”
Carefully Fintan met Jaryn's confident gaze. “It matters little what I think of them. It has never been my job to think, at least on that level. I take care of the issues that he should not be bothered with and I am content in that.”
Crossing his arms once more and resuming his casual lean against the door frame, Jaryn gave a small, lopsided smile. “How long have you been at Lerranyth?”
“Twenty-one years this summer. I was newly appointed the year Donnchadh's father passed the crown to him.”
“Then you know what makes a good council and what makes a poor one, I'm certain.” Jaryn shook his head. “You may not be paid to think on it, but as someone who has been alive long enough to have seen two kings on the throne before this one, you know what a good support team for the ruler looks like.”
Fintan's brows elevated and fell in a dismissive shrug. “Even if that were true, the extent of my influence here only goes so far.”
The door to Cailin's room opened again and Misuzu stepped out into the hallway first with Cailin following behind in a blue and silver gown suited for a lady of
title. “You're right,” Misuzu said to Jaryn, her eyes wide. “I did get lucky.”
“Sheriff!” Though she was dressed as a noble woman, Cailin bowed as a man would to his superior. “It is good to see you again.”
The older man cracked a small smile. “You as well, Cailin. I always suspected there was a woman under the uniform you lived in.” Turning, he beckoned the group with a wave of his hand. “Come along.”
The dining hall was much more informal than what Jaryn was expecting and had grown accustomed to. The long table was set off to the side in a room that also looked to function as an open passageway into the rooms beyond. Close to the table, a great fire was lit in the stone hearth, giving them plenty of warmth and light. Connor was already there and food was set on the table. As the group approached, he rose to greet them all with a smile. “You all look much more rested and put together than when I saw you this morning.” He clasped forearms with Jaryn, then kissed the cheeks of Cailin and Misuzu and helped them to their seats before taking his own again. “I trust you found your rooms suitable. And the clothes? Do they fit?”
Jaryn tugged at the neck of his tunic and grinned. “Perhaps if I were younger and thinner.” With a good natured laugh, he shook his head. “They are greatly appreciated, though I don't suppose you found our belongings from the inn?”
Connor nodded. “Just a little while ago, actually.”
“They were about to be sold,” Fintan supplied, “but I think we got there in time. Hopefully nothing is missing.”
Panic ran across Misuzu's face. “Was a bag recovered?”
“A plain burlap one? Yes, I have it along with everything else in my office.”
“I'll have them brought to the library for you. Please,” encouraged Connor, “help yourselves. One of the hunting parties was able to shoot a deer so we are spoiled tonight.” His cheeks colored as he looked at Jaryn. “Once upon a time we had people to serve us, but many of them are carrying out other duties now as well.”
Sensing the young man's embarrassment, Jaryn half stood where he sat to reach across the table for some of the tender looking meat. “No worries. I used to serve myself before my station changed. I think I remember how to do it.”
As everyone filled their plates, Misuzu took a glass carafe of wine and filled everyone's goblets. Once she returned to her seat, Connor took his wine and lifted it, causing the others to do the same. “To a good meal with good company.” Utterances of agreement rippled around the table before everyone drank and began to eat. Connor took the first bite of his deer and chewed slowly, savoring the smoky juices that filled his mouth and trickled down his throat. Even Fintan seemed a little more relaxed once he started getting food in his belly.
“Thank you for this,” Cailin said after a moment. She tore off a chunk of bread from a rye loaf to sop up the liquid leaking out from under her venison. “It's all quite delicious, though I admit there is a certain guilt that comes with it, seeing Lerranyth as I have.”
“It is a guilt I share,” Connor agreed softly. “In truth, this is a treat for me as well. Most nights I have gruel and milk, if there is any, but usually watered down wine...sometimes bread. As the spring grasses begin to sprout, we will see more and more deer. I was told they found more than this one, but she was the only one unburdened by a foal in her belly, and I will not permit the killing of a pregnant animal to feed even myself. If we get so desperate as that, we will surely deplete our resources even more than we already have.”
Jaryn couldn't help the frown that crept onto his face. “I know your father was above it, or at least the man wearing your father's face, but surely you would agree to help from Siness now. Our storehouses run low because of the long winter, but not so low as yours. I don't know how much we could offer, but...”
“But any help would be gratefully accepted.” Connor looked down and away. “My council tells me I am idealistic and young in thinking it wise to take things from other countries. They say it will make me look weak, that the people will believe I can't provide for them and leave Ibays.”
“They already are,” Cailin disclosed gently. “Your people will either leave because they know they will die if they stay, or you can begin your reign by wisely seeking help from others, not through threats and bullying, but with genuine need.” Cailin set her goblet down to look across the table at the boy. “I don't think you realize the chance you have here. Your father was a stubborn, hard-headed man who felt nothing could be done to make Ibays great but by his own doing. In that, he all but alienated his county from her sister nations. Your grandfather began it all with his own unwillingness to work with others and gave all of us such terrible reputations.” A stony glance from Fintan made Cailin take a calming breath. Beginning again, she evened out her tone. “All I mean to say is that this is your rule, not theirs. These are your decisions, not theirs. If you wish to change things for the better, there is no more perfect time than this.”
No one said anything for a few minutes, only kept their heads down as they ate, wondering what the reaction would be. Even Cailin returned to her meal, finding her plate interesting enough to keep her eyes on it constantly. Connor, however, sat back in his chair, his chin in his hand as he stared at the fire. He no longer appeared hungry, his lips pressed together tightly. For a time, the only sound was the cracking of the fire and goblets being lowered back onto the wooden table. At length Connor sighed, looking tired and older than his thirteen years.
“I don't suppose I could get rid of my entire Privy Council and convince you to come back and be my chief adviser, Cai?” Though the question suggested humor, the look on Connor's face was quite serious. “Never let it leave this room that I admit to not knowing what I'm doing half the time.”
“Neither do I,” Jaryn confessed. “Neither did my fathers-in-law when they took their crowns, though each of them had different rules. You learn as you go, lad. You're lucky to still be young and not so set in your way that you wouldn't be willing to make the necessary changes.”
“I've thought you needed to sack the lot of them right from the beginning, myself.” Fintan took a long drink from his goblet, unaffected by the way everyone looked upon him in surprise. As he set his wine down, he sniffed. “Contrary to popular belief, I do not serve the high king in the singular effort to gain power and wealth for myself. I love my country and I always have. The old windbags in the current Privy Council have been there for so long that they probably piss politics.”
A burst of laughter exploded around the table, Connor's laughter perhaps the loudest, though he looked at the older man with raised brows. “We are in the company of ladies, my good sheriff!”
This finally made him chuckle and he raised his glass to hide behind.
“I would be glad of any help from Siness,” admitted Connor once his laughter subsided enough for him to speak. “My country lacks friends and if we can change that between us, it could be the beginning of a grand turn around.” Glancing at Jaryn, he shook his head. “You must think me incredibly childish in my thinking.”
“Hardly,” said Jaryn honestly. “You're much different from the young monster my wife and I let ourselves believe you to be, I see that now and offer my apologies. Honestly, I look at you and see the man I would like my own son to grow into, one who is not afraid to ask for help and looks at things from different angles.”
The compliment left the boy speechless for a moment. He looked down at his half-finished meal, his lips working into a bashful smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty. That means a great deal.” Turning to Cailin, he raised his brows expectantly. “So?”
She chuckled, uncertain. “So, what?”
“If I am going to make grand changes around here, why shouldn't I start with bringing you back to the castle? I was serious about you being my adviser.”
“Oh...Connor...I don't know.”
“This is your home, after all.”
Her answering smile was sad. “It was, yes, and Ibays will always have part of my h
eart, but my home is in Siness, now. I am truly flattered, but my knowledge and experience is so limited in the ways of politics. I don't know that I would be a help to you more than a hindrance.”
He nodded, disappointed but understanding. “Siness has a fine deputy in you, then.”
Jaryn cleared his throat. “Actually, Cailin has become something of a constable at Altaine, though we've never truly talked about it.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “We don't need to, either. I need no title to tell me to keep you and Ashlynn safe or to command a company of men.”
“They would certainly listen to you better if you had such a title,” Fintan supplied. “Men being what they are, I can only imagine the secret grumblings they have for taking orders from some young Ibayish girl.”
“What I don't know won't kill me.”
Fintan chewed a piece of his meat and raised a brow. “Hopefully.”
Once the food was gone, Fintan excused himself and Connor brought the other three to the library. He explained how it had been the only room he had not allowed anyone to touch, not a single book or tapestry. It was still full with tall shelves lining three of the walls, each packed with as many books as it could hold. Plush chairs looked soft and inviting, so stark in contrast to what they'd seen of the rest of the castle. It was clear from the way this room was kept that it was beloved, and where Connor felt most at home.
“Before we sit and enjoy some tea, I've had your things brought.” He motioned to a corner of the room where Jaryn's cloak and clothes waited, as well as Cailin's clothing and weapons, and Misuzu's clothing and bag. She rushed over and picked it up, rummaging through to make sure nothing was missing. When she found Jaryn's crown, she handed it to him before continuing on. A breath of relief passed her lips when she found the rolled up map at the bottom of the sack.
“What's that?” asked Connor, throwing himself over the arms of one of the chairs.
“Something Misuzu found in the village yesterday,” Jaryn offered. He took the parchment and unrolled it slightly before passing it to Connor.