diviners fate

by Nicolette Andrews

  “It has to be done. If not you, then some other tyrant may take the throne. Either way, Adair must perish. It is the only way to ensure peace.”

  He was looking at me as if I had taken out his heart and presented it to him on a platter, and to tell the truth, I did not revel in my task, but if letting Adair live meant hundreds of thousands would die, I could not stand aside and let the innocent be slaughtered. This has to be done, I kept reminding myself, but it made it no easier to swallow. If only this could be done without bloodshed.

  “Is peace worth the price?” He stared at me for a moment, waiting for an answer. I had none to give. He shook his head once more and walked away. I did not try to stop him. Layton would come to his own conclusions in the end.

  “What of our other friend?” I asked Elenna.

  “He is beyond the palace gates. No one will notice for another couple of hours, and even when they do, they will never suspect you had anything to do with it.”

  I felt weary. “Good,” I said. Elenna helped me to my feet. My body ached. I should rest, but I must stay until the night winds down for this plan to work. Elenna and I returned inside and found Adair just outside the courtyard door.

  “I was coming to look for you. Is everything well with you?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, just a bit tired is all.”

  Adair clasped my hand and returned me to the table. The night wore on, several nobles and merchants came by and paid tribute to me and to Adair. I was showered with gifts of silk, pearls and jewels. One merchant gave me a crown made of silver and amethyst. It was beautifully wrought, but I did not think I would ever wear it. I am not queen even if Adair would style me as the wife of his heart.

  I danced a few times with Adair. He held me close and made lewd comments as I felt his manhood pressed against me. It was all I could do not to push him away and flee. As the night wore down, however, Adair stood up to address the crowd. A hush fell over the revelers. “I wish you all to revel the night away, but for now I will escort Duchess Diranel to her chambers to rest.”

  We exited through the crowd, the courtiers bowing low as we passed. This is what it would be like to be queen, I thought. It was a lonely feeling. No one met my gaze, but I felt them judging me behind their smiles. When we reached my chamber, Adair said goodnight to me with a lingering kiss.

  He cupped my face in his hands as we pulled apart. “You seem distant. Is everything aright with you?”

  I leaned into his touch. “The babe has just taken my energy. I am not yet used to so much activity. Thank you, for everything.”

  He kissed me on the brow. “All I do is for love of you, Maea.”

  I looked away from him. How much longer can I maintain this charade? He did not seem to notice as he continued on. “The council will meet again soon. I would have you read the waters and give us guidance.”

  I will need to return to the Sea Chamber. I fear what I will see when I look into the depths of that dark water. “Is there any news of the war?”

  “Little enough, my ambassador in Neaux tells me that the queen’s regent will not listen to peace talks. We can only resolve this on the field of battle.”

  I flinched. I had forgotten a new ambassador had been sent after Jon’s death. He should have lived. He would have known what to do. He was so much better at playing this game.

  “I have been careless with my tongue. Jon was your husband; I should remember these things.” He held my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

  I looked up at Adair’s blue eyes. They were so similar to Johai’s, yet they held none of the same warmth or the mysteries Johai’s had.

  “Yes. He was a good man. His death was a tragedy.” He died because of your machinations, I wanted to spit.

  “You loved him?” Adair stopped his caressing. His gaze lingered on my growing stomach.

  I smiled. “Not in a romantic way. He was a shield for me.” Adair was watching me intently, and I felt compelled to add, “We never consummated our marriage.”

  Adair’s tension relaxed. “I see.” He continued to rub my hand and took a step closer. “I would come into your chamber if you would have me.”

  My heart was thumping as I tried to keep him at bay. I should have known he would not be long satisfied with my excuses.

  Adair pushed back a stray hair from my face as I fumbled to find a reply. “The man who got you with child, he used you and left you. I will never do that to you, Maea. I will remain true to you. You made a good decision in coming back to me. You hold my heart. You are the wife of my heart.”

  He grabbed my chin and tilted my head back. His words were sweet like honey, and no matter how I guarded myself against his charm, I felt them worming their way in, making my resolve crumble. He kissed me, and for once I let myself melt into his touch, let myself believe the lie for a moment.

  “Your Majesty!” someone shouted, and we pulled apart. A red-faced servant was rushing towards us. He wore black livery with the oak tree of House Raleban upon the breast.

  “What is it?” Adair snarled. I, for one, was thankful for the interruption. I must be careful. Adair’s sweet words almost had me deceived for a moment.

  The servant wrung his hands and hung his head. “The queen’s labor pains have begun. The child is coming.”

  Adair’s face paled. He replied in a more sober tone, “Thank you. Send Her Majesty my well wishes.”

  The man nodded. “There is one other thing, Your Majesty. The queen requests that Lady Diranel attend the birth.”

  Adair looked sidelong at me, but I could not guess his thoughts. Why me? Why now? I wondered.

  “Very well.” He took my hand and kissed it. “I cannot deny my wife’s wishes. She shall have use of my diviner to see her through the delivery of our child.” He leaned in to whisper to me, “Remember, Maea, who you belong to.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE SERVANT LED ME to Sabine’s chamber. Why call me now, when her child is about to be born? I had little enough knowledge of healing. Just what my grandmother had taught me. Sabine would not know that. When I left Keisan I was just a girl with the gift to see into the future. The servant knocked on the chamber door. It seemed to echo for a moment before it swung open. Duchess Magdale stood within. Her blond hair was braided down her back, and she was wearing a tan gown with flowers embroidered on the bodice.

  She looked to the servant and then to me, and her lips curled back in a sneer. “Her Majesty’s labor pains have begun. She is not seeing anyone at the moment.”

  “Her Majesty asked for Lady Diranel to be brought to her,” the servant said.

  She scoffed. “The queen sent for the king’s whore? I doubt that.”

  Her insult stung more than I liked to admit. Even if I had not brought Adair to my bed, I had all but let him. He had paraded me before the entire palace like some award-winning mare. You let him kiss you and touch you without raising a complaint, in front of the court nonetheless. It only made sense that rumors would circulate.

  “Ester, let her in,” Sabine called from within.

  Ester Magdale scowled at me once more before stepping aside and letting me into the room. Inside, the candles had burned low. Only a single oil lamp remained on the bedside table. Sabine was sitting in her bed, her lower back propped up by pillows, and an open book lay in her lap. When I entered, I fell into a low bow. My skirts brushed against the stone floor. I felt Sabine watching me, my onetime companion. Now, however, I felt the distance between us. You are not the person I thought you were, and I am not the person I used to be. Does she hate me for cavorting with her husband?

  “Duchess Diranel, thank you for coming. You may rise; there is no need to bow,” Sabine said. Her tone was soft, wistful almost.

  I regained my feet, and Sabine smiled at me. For a moment I glimpsed the girl I thought I had known long ago. Beau’s words echoed through my mind. She told me to bring you back here. She wanted you here. I dared not share her smile or slip back into the girls we had been. S
abine had wanted to use me just as everyone else. Now things were different. I had a part to play here, as did she.

  “You summoned me, Your Majesty?” I kept my tone formal.

  Sabine’s expression dropped. She grimaced and clutched at her stomach.

  I forgot my need for distance and rushed to her side. “What is it? Is the baby coming?” I fretted as I ran through a mental checklist of things I would need to help deliver the baby. I never got the chance before, but I think I know enough about the how to be of some help.

  She laughed. “No, the pains have only just begun. The magiker tells me the baby will not arrive for some time yet.” Sabine readjusted her position. She looked to Duchess Magdale, who was hovering at the foot of the bed. “Could you get me something to drink?”

  The duchess gave me a parting sneer before going into the chamber adjoining Sabine’s. I took a step back. I had expected to find Sabine in the throes of labor, screaming out in pain as the child forced its way out of her body. Why am I here? What benefit do I give you?

  “I’m sorry we have to be reunited in this way. I had hoped... well, it does not matter. I am glad you are here.” She reached out for my hand. She squeezed briefly and smiled at me. What can she be plotting from her childbed? What could she hope to gain? She is the queen already; she denied Beau. None of this makes sense.

  Duchess Magdale reemerged with a few goblets of wine and set them down. Sabine took a sip from her cup before lying back against the headboard. She seemed tired. The child she will give birth to is a sign of the end. I have seen visions of him long ago, before Adair and Sabine were wed, that their son would be a cruel and twisted creature like his father. It seems strange to think a child of hers could be like that. Maybe the prophecy is wrong, and he will be a good man. It could have been one possible future. I put my thoughts aside for the time being.

  “What can I do to help you?” I asked.

  Duchess Magdale retreated to the far side of the room. There was an alcove with windows on three sides. A pair of chairs had been set there, and that is where the duchess sat. She picked up a bit of embroidery and worked on it. A casual observer would think she was ignoring us; I did not believe that for a moment. Duchess Magdale had been complacent in charging me with treason. It was in part due to her testimony that I had been sentenced to death by the council. I would have died back then if Johai hadn’t saved me.

  “Stay with me; keep me company. The magiker thinks this will be a long labor. Though Ester would like to, she cannot stay by my side through the night. I thought you would be willing to share the load with her,” Sabine said. For a moment it was like no time had passed at all. It was as if I had not been exiled for nearly a year.

  She told me to bring you back here. Beau’s words continued to haunt me.

  I turned away from her. There was a chair by her bedside. I sat down beside her. She gasped as another pain rippled through her body. She clutched the bed sheets and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as the pain receded. “Would you read for me, your grace?” Sabine asked when she could speak once more. She handed me a novel, which was dog-eared. I opened to the page she requested. Inside a note was tucked. I schooled my features to neutral.

  Magdale is his spy. Be careful what you say.

  I did not look at her, though I felt Sabine watching me expectantly. Who is Magdale spying for? I wondered. There was no shortage of suitable puppet masters. Her own husband had passed away, but his son remained. Duke Delonty had said many ill-favored dukes had died suddenly after Adair took the throne. Did Duchess Magdale have a hand in her husband’s death? Would that make her Adair’s creature? The king has his men, and the queen has hers. That’s what Layton had told me. What is Sabine’s goal? What do I have to do with it? I wished I could ask her outright, but that was not possible. I turned the page and began reading. I read for long into the night, pausing when Sabine’s pain grew stronger and more intense. We said nothing other than the obligatory. Late in the night, Duchess Magdale sagged into her chair and slumped over before startling and sitting back up.

  “You can rest, Ester,” Sabine said in a soothing tone. “The babe will not come for some time.”

  “I could not think to do such a thing, Your Majesty. It is my duty as your head lady-in-waiting to stay beside you until the child is born.”

  “You must think of your own health.” Sabine readjusted once again and winced as she did so. I jumped up to straighten her pillow and handed her a drink of water when she was done. Duchess Magdale was watching us with cloudy eyes. She was exhausted; that much was plain. I can relate. My own eyes were growing heavy with a need for sleep.

  The duchess looked down and rested a hand upon her abdomen. When she looked up again, our eyes met. She flushed and looked away, and then something occurred to me. The duchess rose to her feet. Beneath the layers of silk of her gown, I saw the swell of a child. I did a quick calculation in my head. Duke Magdale had died six months ago or thereabout. The duchess was pregnant, perhaps a few months more advanced than me, but I could not say with certainty it was far enough to be the Duke’s child. Was the child conceived before he died? Duchess Magdale bowed to Sabine as she exited. When the door closed behind her, the room fell to silence.

  “I think I will close my eyes for a while. You probably want to sleep as well,” Sabine said.

  I did, but I was more curious about the duchess. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Sabine watched me go without a word. I slipped out of the chamber into the hall. The duchess had not left but was standing just outside the door in the corridor as I thought she would.

  “You should rest. It is not good for the baby to exert yourself,” I said to her.

  “You think you have risen high,” she spat. “I was like you once. He told me he loved me, that I would want for nothing. All I had to do was follow his instructions, but once he was done with me, all that was left was shame and a swelling belly. He will discard you when convenient. Do not think because you carry his child you are safe.”

  “You assume too much. I do not carry the king’s child. You might have had a husband to cuckold, but I do not. My daughter shall wear her bastardy with honor.”

  Duchess Magdale paled. I had guessed right; Adair was the father of her child. I realized I pitied her. Adair had used her as he had so many women, as he would use me if it were his choice. What was worse was I suspected he used her to get rid of those who opposed him. He probably convinced her to kill her husband, and once it was done, he had no more use for her. This is what comes from dancing with fire. You are only left burned and heartbroken.

  “My child is not a bastard. My husband was able to get me with child before he died.” She was taking a step back as if to escape. I grabbed her wrist to stop her from fleeing.

  “Do not presume to lie to me. I am a diviner, and I can see into the past as well as the future. Your child was conceived outside of wedlock. I know it is Adair’s child you carry because he would have done the same to me if I did not already carry another man’s child. Why are you protecting him when he has treated you so ill?”

  She wrenched free of my grasp. “Do not think to lump me in with you. I have noble lines without tarnish, as will my child.” She turned on her heel and hurried down the hallway away from me. I shook my head. I was sad for her more than anything.

  With her gone, I knew it was safe to return to Sabine. When I entered, she was lying on her side facing the wall. I took a few steps towards the bed. Sabine did not move, but I could sense she had not fallen asleep.

  “The duchess is gone,” I said.

  She leaned up on her elbow to look at me. “What did you say to get her to leave?”

  “I told her the truth,” I replied. I dragged the chair over to the other side of the bed and faced Sabine. She lay back down, her hand resting on the rise of her stomach. She was near bursting, it seemed. I could see the child rolling about underneath her skin.

  Silence stretched out for a time. “I fear
for my son,” she said at last.

  I reached out a hand to touch her but stopped at the last moment. “Why? Your labor has only just begun; there is no need to worry needlessly.”

  “I am not worried about his birth, but his life. I have dreamed—terrible things.” She closed her eyes for a moment.

  I could feel her fear. I shared the same. I had seen a vision of her son, a cruel man upon a throne. It is not too late to change that destiny.

  “I fear he will be trapped in this game as I have. Feel the heartaches I have felt, know what it means to love and never touch or express yourself as you want. I want him to be free.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the first time I had seen her cry. I fought back my own tears. No matter what she has done or planned to do, she is a mother who fears for the future of her child. “Move over,” I said.

  She moved to the edge of the bed, and I lay down beside her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and she rested her head against my chest. We stayed like that for a moment, holding on to one another, drawing strength from each other. We were at times two birds in a gilded cage, unable to fly free. Maybe we still are those birds, maybe we’ll never be free of the politics, but the least I can do is make it a better world, a safer cage. Our stomachs touched, and I could feel Sabine’s son kicking against the walls of the womb. Then from within my own I felt a faint fluttering like the beating of butterfly wings. Sabine’s son stopped moving, and Sabine looked me in the eye for a moment.

  “You are pregnant?” She had not felt my child kick, I could hardly feel her movements myself, but she had sensed her son’s reaction. It was as if they were communicating with one another in a language we could not speak. “Is it Adair’s?” Sabine said in a hushed voice. Perhaps she felt the communion between our children and assumed they were siblings. What I felt just then was something deeper, something difficult to explain; it was like two souls reaching out to one another. I knew my daughter was a child of great power, but perhaps Sabine’s son would not only be destined for destruction, perhaps he was one who held great power as well.