[Fairytale 02] - Asleep (2013)

by Elizabeth Darcy

  “You know, Dev, it’s not so easy for me either.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Being the spare.”

  Dev winced. “Such coarse language, little brother.”

  Waving the comment away, Tanvir pinned his brother with his gaze. “It’s not my fault, big brother, so you can stop blaming me. You can also stop envying me.”

  “I know it’s not your fault.” Dev turned away and resumed his pacing, trying to find the words that would help him bridge the gap with his brother. “It’s just that everyone watches every last thing I do. I’m the source of endless gossip and speculation.”

  “What makes you think I’m immune? At least you don’t have to deal with people whispering behind your back about how you might want to murder your own brother.”

  “What?” Dev asked, freezing in shock. “Who says that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s what everyone thinks.”

  “They think it because they believe you’d be a better king than me.”

  “No, it’s because they’re a bunch of bored courtiers who live to gossip.”

  Astonished, Dev barked out a laugh. “I had no idea you were such a cynic.”

  “I watch, Dev. I listen. I learn.”

  “And you came here to tell me this?”

  “I came here to try to prove to you that you’re not the only being in this Realm. I know Mother’s nagging has been relentless lately, but could you stop for one second and think of things from her perspective? It’s her duty, it’s Father’s duty, to be sure that you marry well. The Realm expects things of them too, you know.”

  His brother was right, but Dev didn’t want to think about it. Maybe that was precisely the problem. Maybe he was being too selfish. “What are you saying? That I should just marry whoever she tells me to marry?”

  “No, but what I am saying is that maybe you should spend less time fighting with Mother and more time focusing on how you can get what you want, while also appeasing her.”

  “You’re diabolical,” Dev said, looking at his brother with new eyes.

  Tanvir frowned at the admiration in Dev’s voice. “No, I’m pragmatic. You might want to try it sometime.”

  “So how do you propose I go about being…pragmatic?” Dev asked, speaking the word with a ridiculous flourish.

  “She wants to know you’re serious about the prospect of marriage, so show her you’re serious. Talk to her about some of the ladies she asks you about. Tell her why you dislike them or why you think they might be an unfit queen. In short, prove to her that you’re doing something. You’d make all our lives easier.”

  “Wow, little brother. I never thought about it that way.”

  “That’s because you’d rather do battle than make peace, even if it means you don’t get any peace yourself. I’ve never understood that about you, dear brother. You’re one of the most illogical people I’ve ever known.”

  “I’ll try to take that as a compliment.” Dev gave his brother a broad grin.

  Tanvir snorted. “You shouldn’t, as it wasn’t one. However, I do have to admit that your illogical nature does make things more interesting.”

  “Are you saying you see me as some sort of specimen to be studied?”

  “That’s how I’ve always seen you. You’re a useful example of what not to do.”

  “Well, thank you indeed for that high praise.”

  “If there’s one advantage to being the spare, it’s that you get to watch the mistakes of the heir and make sure you don’t make them yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a report due to my tutor tomorrow.”

  “Yes, wouldn’t want to displease the tutor, would we?” Dev taunted. With a dismissive look, Tanvir headed for the door.

  “Thank you, Tanvir,” Dev called out, just before his brother disappeared.

  Poking his head back into the chamber, Tanvir smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter 22

  “Are you telling me Mahlia means to blackmail us by trying to force us to arrange a union between herself and one of our lords?” Omar asked, early the next morning. He paced the chamber with barely contained fury. Farah looked thoughtful, and Adar and Nishana looked concerned.

  “You can’t agree to that,” Nishana hastened to say. “Had we known how great the stakes for you, we would never have—”

  “This isn’t your fault,” Jess told her gently. “Mahlia saw an opportunity and decided to press her advantage. If not now, she would have found another opportunity.”

  “It was well played on her part,” Farah said, and Jess thought she detected some admiration in her mother’s voice. Loath as she was to admit it, Jess couldn’t help but admire Mahlia as well.

  “Did she deign to tell you who she has designs on?” Omar asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Would you have expected her to do so?” Jess asked.

  “She will not want to show you her hand, at least not yet,” Adar said. “And Nishana is right. You cannot think of doing such a thing. We cannot allow it.”

  Jess looked at her mother, who was studying her. She and her mother were so alike, always looking at things from a martial angle, and she was certain her mother’s thoughts echoed her own. Part of what made Farah so successful on the battlefield was her uncanny ability to predict her opponent’s next likely action.

  “It may not be entirely disadvantageous to us,” Jess said, still looking at her mother. Farah gave her a small smile of approval.

  “We know the other Realms were not thrilled with the match between Jess and Dev,” Farah reminded them. “They feared what a union between Lyrane and Estoria might mean, and they were right to have such fears. We must not allow ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. What would we stand to lose if there was a union between two of the other Realms?”

  “Mahlia thinks Ellaria might find Beland appealing, should she succeed in capturing the Moritanian throne,” Tanvir said. Omar froze in his tracks, and Nishana and Adar exchanged glances.

  “We must always keep our eyes on all of the pieces,” Farah said, moving a few models around on the tactical map they’d been staring at for days. “And Beland would undoubtedly recognize the advantages to such a match. Moritan’s navy exerts considerable force. They could harry the Estorian coast and wreck havoc on essential trade. They wouldn’t even need to make a direct assault. Corland could then strike from the north.”

  “And neither side could depend on Mahlia’s assistance then,” Tanvir said. “Mahlia will always place her own Realm above that of all the others combined. If that scenario should play out, she may well think it to her advantage to sit back and play both sides.”

  “So we must buy Mahlia’s loyalty, is that what you’re saying?” Omar asked.

  “War is neither neat nor orderly,” Farah replied.

  “But what’s to stop Beland from attempting to make peace with Ellaria once he discovers Mahlia’s plans to marry one of our lords?”

  “It will have to be kept secret until we’ve neutralized the threat Ellaria poses,” Jess said.

  Farah nodded. “We can make her promises, draw up documents, but we will insist that neither the announcement nor the wedding can take place until Lyrane’s security is assured. She will be hard pressed to argue against such a provision. It’s putting it mildly to say it would be unseemly for there to be such a wedding at this time.”

  Omar moved over to the table, staring at the pieces his wife had moved around. Bracing his palms against the table’s edge, he dropped his head and blew out a long breath.

  “Ellaria is perhaps cleverer than we’ve given her credit for being. She couldn’t have anticipated exactly what would happen, but she must have known that the very threat of her usurping the Moritanian throne would reignite some of the tensions that have long been simmering below the surface in the other Realms,” Nishana said.

  “Have we any news from Moritan?” Jess asked, looking at her father out of the corner of her ey
e. While she didn’t like Mahlia’s proposal much more than he did, it worried her to see him taking it so hard.

  “More reports of troops being mustered, supplies being gathered,” Tanvir said, waving an impatient hand, a frustrated look on his face. “None of it is timely enough. The crossing from Moritan to Estoria takes two days with a good wind. By now, Ellaria could have already attacked Ygres and we wouldn’t hear of it for at least another few days.”

  “Papa, what’s wrong?” Jess asked, walking over to him and putting a hand on his back.

  “There is one thing none of us can afford to forget,” he said, lifting his head. “If we do agree to Mahlia’s proposal, we will be hard pressed to find a lord who doesn’t have some sort of claim to the Lyranian throne. And if that’s the case…”

  “You think Mahlia may try to stake that claim,” Adar said, understanding dawning on his face.

  “If not for herself, perhaps for her heir,” Omar confirmed. “I would not want to agree to something that we may not live to see ourselves regret.”

  Dropping into a chair, Jess buried her face in her hands. When she’d realized how she’d felt about Dev, she had been so happy and so incapable of thinking of anything other than her own happiness. Each of the Five Realms had been independent for centuries, and though there had sometimes been marriages between important nobility from different Realms, the monarchs from each had always selected a mate from among their own court. When she and Dev had promised themselves to one another, neither of them had thought about the precedent they were setting.

  “This problem isn’t of your making, my love,” her mother said, rubbing Jess’s back in soothing circles. “This sort of intrigue has been happening since long before you were born.”

  “I know,” Jess said, her voice muffled by her hands. For the first time, she understood Dev’s desire to be anything other than the heir to the throne. When he had spoken of freedom she had listened with a sympathetic ear, but she had never truly known what he had meant by the idea. Up until now, everything Jess had wanted had been for the good of her own Realm, and only now could she appreciate how difficult it was to shoulder such responsibility. Had she not been Princess Jessmyn, she wouldn’t have had to be concerned that her choice of partner could impact the millions of souls who lived in Lyrane and Estoria.

  “Ellaria isn’t making her move because you and Dev are going to be married,” Tanvir said. “She would have made a play for the throne regardless, and precious little would have been different. Mahlia still would have wanted an ally in Lyrane to help her secure her Realm, and Ellaria would still have found Beland an attractive option for a husband.”

  “Thank you,” Jess said, feeling better, but just a little. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to lose focus.”

  “You’ve been remarkable through all of this,” Nishana said, her voice trembling.

  “We may also be able to placate Beland, at least a little,” Tanvir said. “He made it quite clear to me tonight that he would like some new trade agreements.”

  “Yes, he’s been damned persistent about it,” Adar said, frowning. “My agreeing to open the subject for negotiation should distract him from Mahlia, which might make it easier to keep her secret under wraps.”

  “This is an intricate web we’re weaving,” Nishana warned.

  “Leave Mahlia to me,” Farah said. “I can handle her. I’m certain I can persuade her to commit troops to our cause as a condition of this marriage agreement. After all, if she is expecting Lyrane to protect Deshira, I will make it clear to her that Deshira will be expected to protect Lyrane as well.”

  “And we’ll focus on doing what we can to appease Beland,” Adar said. “The trade negotiations just might make him happy enough to agree to commit troops as well.”

  “We’ll confer with Beland and Mahlia in confidence tomorrow, then reconvene in the evening to share information. In the meantime, you and Tanvir should run some scenarios based on all available possible outcomes,” Omar said.

  Tanvir nodded. “I’ll work on calculating the numbers tonight, if you would be so good as to oversee the training exercises, Jess.”

  “Of course,” Jess said, rising from her seat. The thought of hours of physical exertion with the troops was a relief. She would be too occupied to spare much time or energy for reflecting on her worries, and she might even exhaust herself enough that she’d sleep.

  “We bid you good night,” Omar told Nishana and Adar. “We should confer with our councillors about possible candidates for a match with Mahlia.”

  “And I must confer with mine about what concessions we can afford to give Beland,” Adar said.

  As Jess and her parents left the chamber, Jess saw her mother nod at her father, who leaned over to kiss his daughter’s cheek, then hurried off ahead of the two women.

  “I’ll help you with your armor,” Farah said, holding a hand up as Jess began protesting. “Hush, or you may just find me out there conducting the training exercises myself. You know how much I’d rather be in the midst of a melee than locked up in talks with councillors.”

  It was impossible not to smile. “I’d be glad for the help.”

  When they reached Jess’s chamber, Farah dismissed her daughter’s maids and helped Jess undo her laces. “You are strong, my Jess. You always have been.” She began tying plates to Jess’s padded doublet. “But real strength is holding yourself together when you fear you might fall to pieces.”

  “I thought…I thought marrying Dev was good for the Realms, but now—”

  “No, my love, I won’t hear it. Marrying Dev is good for the Realms, and it’s also good for both of you. I couldn’t imagine you with another man, I honestly couldn’t.”

  “I’m not sure that, before him, I really understood the burden I bear.”

  “And that’s part of the reason why I think he is such a good match for you. You’ve always worn your responsibility lightly, while Dev has worn his like hundreds of pounds of plate. Together, I hope you’ll find a middle ground.”

  “I feel as though the security of all of the Realms is at stake simply because I fell in love with Dev.”

  With a wry smile, Farah said, “Don’t overestimate your own importance. Haven’t I taught you that we can all become pawns if we aren’t vigilant? What’s happening to the Realms now is much bigger than you and Dev. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  “But it’s sometimes hard for me to see that, I’m so caught up in how I’m affected.”

  “That’s what gives you the strength to fight,” Farah said, putting her hands on Jess’s arms and looking into her eyes. “Make your personal stake in this your cause.”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “Every time.”

  Reaching up to her neck, Farah pulled a chain out from under her gown. Perplexed, Jess watched as her mother extracted a locket she’d never before seen, opening it and showing it to Jess. Inside were tiny miniatures of herself and her father painted on thumbnail-sized ovals of ivory.

  “I wore you and your father into battle every time. I kept you close to my heart so I wouldn’t forget what I was fighting for. It didn’t matter who I was fighting, didn’t matter how it started. Ideals are wonderful, but they’re hard to hold onto when you’re exhausted, when you’re starving, when you’re in pain because of injury or illness. But the people that matter to you, the things you love most in the world, they’re never hard to hold onto. They’re the source of your strength.”

  “Thank you, Mama,” Jess said. She wished she could hug her mother but the plate made that rather difficult. Farah took her daughter’s face in her hands and tilted it down, kissing Jess on the forehead.

  “You will defeat this foe, my daughter. I know that. Now, go prepare yourself and your troops for what lies ahead.”

  Chapter 23

  His grogginess slowly seeping away, Dev dragged his chair over to the barred window, climbing on the seat so he could peer outside. He’d already tried to break the chair apart for
use as a makeshift weapon but the wood was too solid. The chair itself was far too heavy and unwieldy for him to try to strike one of his guards with it. Weeks of being drugged and half-starved along with the freezing conditions in his cell had taken their toll on him, draining his strength. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t continue to try, but he’d ruled the chair out as an option.

  He had no good options. When he was awake for his meals they usually consisted of some stale bread and a bit of hard cheese. Often it was moldy. On occasion he was given a thin, watery soup, but it was always lukewarm and never came with utensils, which was a bitter disappointment to him. Even a wooden spoon would have been a decent weapon if sharpened to a point, which wouldn’t have been too difficult given that he was imprisoned in a stone cell.

  Standing on the tips of his toes, he was able to see the desolate fields surrounding the tower. As he had regained consciousness he had realized the camp outside was noisier than when he’d first arrived at his prison, which meant Ellaria was getting ready to make her move. He wanted to believe Mallaric would be able to quell the rebellion without any trouble, but Dev knew Mallaric was an inept strategist, and the king did not like being undermined by his nobility, which meant he wasn’t at all inclined to listen to men of better sense and higher intelligence.

  Though Dev was a good fighter with a light weapon, he wasn’t the hardy soldier his brother was, but he did have a gift for the more cerebral aspects of war. While Tanvir led the knights on the front line, Dev stayed in the background, devising strategies, deploying tactics, and seeing to the logistical aspects of keeping an army well, fed, and in weapons and armor. It was the one mental area in which he bested his brother and he never let Tanvir forget it. Now he put his ability to good use, counting the troops riding to and from the tower, making note of the types of supplies that were being delivered. After some rough calculations in his head, he estimated Ellaria’s forces must number in the tens of thousands, a realization that astonished him.