“I deserve to face trial as well,” Aurelia spoke.
No, she doesn’t. Robert knew the scars of revolution were far deeper than the marks on her back. Guilt, shame, sorrow: those would be her natural sentence. But no honest court would charge her.
His Lordship grimaced at his stepdaughter. “For defending yourself from an act of war? If you are to be tried, then what of the thousands of soldiers who fought on either side? None of us is without guilt,” he said.
“Then accusations are no reason to deny her the right to lead,” said Robert.
“True,” the Oracle stated. “However, our greater concern is that to proclaim Aurelia as the country’s leader would imply the continued rule of the monarchy.”
Robert dropped his gaze. Because he, himself, was guilty of this misconception. He knew her better than anyone. How many times over the past year had she told him her mission? And yet he had been prepared to fight her, on behalf of Tyralt, because His Lordship had used the term appointed.
“We believe,” Lester said, “it would be best if someone else were named. Temporarily.”
There was no one. She had ridden between those two armies alone. Had placed herself in her people’s hands. And had shown herself capable of the extraordinary.
Robert confronted the gaze of every man at the table. “She is the heart of this country. She’s the bond that holds all of Tyralt together.”
“We believe she has shown that ability, yes,” the Oracle said. “And when elections are held, the people will have every right to elect her if they so wish.”
Did these men think Robert was solely defending her? He was defending Tyralt. “She is the only person capable of leading this entire country now. We discussed this before the march on the capital. You all agreed!” At least everyone had except Henry, who had confirmed the same sentiment by signaling to the people to open the gates.
“We were wrong,” said the Heir of Valshone, clearing his line of vision.
Robert flexed his hand on his sword. He had believed the Valshone leader had matured after his failure in the Asyan.
The Oracle held up a flat palm. A sketch in the shape of a dagger had been freshly inked into his flesh. “She is a great leader. I admit I did not foresee … when she first came to me, in Darzai, and spoke about this journey; I did not see the leader that she would become.” He turned his palm upward and lowered it toward Aurelia in the desert gesture of respect. “That she would be the Liberator.”
Her chest rose, pulling her face from the shadows. A sheen lit her eyes as she returned the desert gesture.
The Oracle nodded. “But we believe”—he looked again at Robert—“that there is another voice that represents not a region, but the entirety of Tyralt. A leader whom the people will respect. And follow. And who is free of the implications of royalty.”
Robert could not let them hurt her like this. “Her birth should not be a reason to dismiss—”
“Someone,” the Oracle continued, “with patience and the ability to heal Tyralt.”
What did it matter if she lacked patience! Robert would help her if—
“You,” Aurelia stated, her eyes at last on him.
He stared back at her, not understanding.
The men around the table all nodded. And the Oracle confirmed, “We all believe you are the person to lead our country through this time.”
The canvas, the faces, the shadows: they all spun. Was this some dark joke conceived to mock Robert for his feelings toward Aurelia? Though none of the spinning faces were laughing. “No one would follow me,” he said.
Drew tossed his hat into the whirl. “You’re mistaken there, lad.”
Valerian spoke as well: “You’re the head of the army. Our men have already followed you.”
“Because she assigned me the position!”
“My men were getting slaughtered on that road in the Asyan.” Lord Lester’s deep voice centered the spin. “When you took command, you saved them and the Heir’s and the Oracle’s as well. Though I don’t think any of us guessed how much your strengths were valued outside our own forces; until Drew made it clear, on the final stretch of our ride to the capital, that you were being spoken of as a leader of the revolution—the boy from the frontier who had saved the princess and then saved all of Tyralt.”
They were talking of fairy tales. Gossip.
“Correct.” That was Henry, who of all of them had no reason to exaggerate on his nephew’s behalf. “Her sister declared the mention of your names an act of treason, yet both are scrawled in charcoal on half the streets in the city.”
“Consider, Robert,” the Oracle said. “You love Aurelia. Do you not?”
The tent ceased to spin. Of course I love her.
“Why do you love her?” the desert leader continued, his voice low yet demanding the truth. “Is it not possible you love her because she shares the same passions as you? Because she loves Tyralt. And so do you. All of it: the capital, the north, the frontier. You understand the politics. You care about the people. You have other leaders who trust you. All of us, in this tent, who would lay down our lives at your word. Because you care about Tyralt.”
Yes, Robert cared. That was why he loved her. Because she cared so much. That was the reason he had shown her poverty, inequality, dishonesty—all the aspects of Tyralt he could not stomach. Because she cared so deeply that when she saw injustice, she refused to remain silent. She voiced the horror he felt. He didn’t have the power to voice it himself. Because he didn’t have the right—
Except that now he did.
His gaze reached desperately for the only person who could understand. Her eyes were dark, direct, and empathetic.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” She stood. “I think you have made your point.”
• • •
Aurelia saw Robert’s frame shudder. She understood the emotion that must be pulsing within him. Knew this was not the same fear he had expressed over a month ago. It was the kind that came after denial.
He backed away toward the tent flap. And disappeared.
She should give him time.
But how much could she offer with Tyralt’s future in the balance?
About this much, her heart answered. She slipped past the other council members and out of the tent.
He had already mounted and was pulling away on Horizon. Dirt churned beneath those hooves.
She retrieved Falcon’s reins, swung up on the horse’s back, and urged the mare after the stallion. Aurelia knew that even at her best she could not catch Robert if he truly wished to flee. Not even her strong-willed mount could match the gait of the powerful bay that had outrun flames and death and every horse he had ever raced. But Falcon had never accepted that fact. Her hooves lifted, her neck stretched. And she raced over the churned earth.
Her rider buried her face in the mare’s neck and thrilled at the ride. The previous days of being trapped in bed had been all Aurelia could stand. The frustration of knowing so much needed to be discussed. Decided. Begun.
When Lord Lester had come to her, on behalf of the council, with the idea of naming “young Vantauge” as the interim leader, she had known she needed to speak to all the members directly.
Robert. The idea was so simple. So right.
This morning each member of the council had agreed. Lord Lester claimed to have recognized Robert’s leadership as early as the campsite at Transcontina. Valerian would say only that trust came from forgiveness. Henry had stated that his insight came from the people in the capital. Drew had said he had underrated Robert too many times.
And though the Oracle had declined to speak until the others were done, the calmness—and certainty—in his tone seemed to imply he had known from the beginning. From that first confrontation in Darzai, when he had refused to join Aurelia. Until Robert had walked in, taking her hand. She understood now that the desert leader had not read her future that day. He had read that of the young man then standing beside her.
Fal
con was slowing, the change in speed tugging her rider’s focus back to the present.
Robert had dismounted at the center of the field. Beside a boulder of chest-high white stone, perhaps once meant for the wall. His gaze was on the sky. Not as wide or as blue as on the frontier, she thought, but still the same sky above the same country.
He pressed both hands to the rock as though trying to prove his inadequacy. She knew he was thinking he did not deserve to lead this country he loved.
Which was why he did.
She slid off Falcon, giving the mare the same freedom as the stallion now roaming at will. “Robert,” Aurelia said gently.
“I won’t wait.” His gaze lifted, his face filled with a determination she had not expected. His chest rose and fell. “I won’t allow politics to dictate my life.”
Did that mean he was refusing the position?
He stepped toward her, gripping her shoulders. “When you were dead,” he choked. “When I thought you were dead, I knew I had lost everything. And when I realized you might be alive, I promised myself I wouldn’t accept … I wouldn’t accept cowardice.”
His cowardice or hers? She had not thanked him for his rescue at Midbury. It had seemed mercenary to offer words of gratitude for saving her life when she had been about to risk it in front of the entire royal army. “I expected to die,” she whispered. “I wanted to die in that cell in Midbury because I knew if I didn’t, my sister would use my death against Tyralt. The risk you took for me and for this country—I could never have dreamed anyone could be that brave.”
His grip tightened. “You are that brave,” he said fiercely. “You asked all those men to fight. I only asked them not to fire.” Then he pulled away until his back reached the boulder. “Aurelia, how do you truly feel about this?”
“I support the council’s decision,” she said clearly. “It wasn’t my idea.” She needed him to know she had not influenced the other members. “But I wish it had been.”
“Are you sure?” His tone wavered. “I won’t steal the place you’ve earned. Are you certain you agree with this?”
She was no longer afraid of leading her country. She would not be alone if the people chose her. And judging by their support of the past few days, there seemed little doubt that ultimately they would.
If she must, she would lead Tyralt now.
But the council’s concerns were hers as well. The mistaken shouts of “Long live the queen!” The thought that if the citizens of Tyralt City were unclear about her position, then those beyond the capital would be more so. There would be doubts and anxiety in the mountains, the desert, the frontier, the forests. The people would be uncertain of their own freedom. Unsure whether they were truly at liberty to choose their next leader.
She spoke with passion. “I would far rather be the first elected leader of Tyralt than the first selected one. I want the people to know they are free.”
His gaze was direct. “Then they need to hear the truth about your family. I understand that your stepfather wants to protect you from having to talk about your sister, but the people have lost as much because of her as we have.”
Robert had lost his parents. Daria had lost a husband, a father, a brother. Thousands had lost homes, lives, a sense of justice. Robert was correct. Melony had scarred the entire kingdom. And all of Tyralt had the right to heal.
“We will tell the people together,” Aurelia answered him. “You are my family.”
He pulled her to him. Holding her. When at last he eased back, a strange light filled his blue eyes. His hand rose, threading the strands of her hair. He spoke as though in the middle of a thought. “I haven’t asked you before,” he said, “because there were so many obstacles: your sister, the war, the throne. I know you are afraid of love.”
But she wasn’t. Not any longer.
“I am,” he said, cutting off her chance at a rebuttal. “I’m afraid of what it means to love you.” He paused, then returned to the phrase he had used earlier. “I won’t wait. Not even a year. I know it would be easier on the council’s theory of removal from the monarchy, but I won’t accept that as an excuse. And I won’t tackle this impossible position without you by my side. No one can keep me honest or sane or whole more than you. If I have to make a choice, I’m choosing you.”
She did not know how to respond—how to untangle his words.
His touch caressed the side of her face. “I can’t promise you much, Aurelia, but I can promise you my heart. Forever. Will you marry me?”
Her chest flew to pieces. Then resurrected itself. One. Fragment. At a time.
She had rejected marriage. Had built her own Tyralian wall to forestall any possibility that he might ask her. Had put up a barrier because she had believed her worth was tied to the crown—that she could not marry him and hope to fight her sister’s usurpation of the throne. Then later, after her mission had become clear, because she had feared for Robert’s life. And ultimately because she had been afraid she did not know how to love.
But all those excuses were dust, as powder thin as the dirt now lifting in the breeze and blowing around them.
Her mind registered the trembling of his hand, still on her face, and only then did she realize he thought she might say no.
“When?” she whispered.
A dare shone in those blue eyes. “Today,” he challenged her.
He must have forgotten she was the one without patience.
Aurelia pulled his face down to hers, and kissed him. Warm. Strong. Certain. She had never felt so free. To become a leader on her own terms. To serve her country in her own way. To choose the man she loved.
“Yes,” she replied, meeting the challenge.
Epilogue
AURELIA’S RIDE
For centuries, the people would speak about Aurelia’s Ride through the capital. Of the crowds that clogged the streets from the western gate to the bay, from the main gates to Palace Hill and filling every square and plaza in between. Of bright scarves and fringed fabric and colored napkins waving like flags. Of the confetti that rained down from university windows and of rag banners stretched from tenement to tenement. People pressed heel to toe, shoulder to shoulder. Men cramming the open spaces. Women and girls leaning out along rickety railings, clay roofs, and elaborate carved balconies. Boys scaling hedges, walls, and stalled carriages. All in order to see history being made.
The people spoke of the cheers from inns and taverns, shops and market stalls, the opera house and theaters. Voices raised in unity. Strong enough to rival the cheers from a year before that had imprisoned a former queen within her own palace, ended two and a half weeks of rioting, and convinced participants to set aside pistols and swords and slingshots, coaxing out citizens who had hidden throughout the unrest. And the sentiments they had hidden longer.
“Long live the Liberator!”
Other names were spoken as well: those of a desert tribesman rumored to know the future, a tall horseman who had lost the feather in his hat, a healed general who had fought his way out of reclusion, an heir who had refused to hide in the mountains, a respected adviser who had signaled the opening of the gates, a royal general who had refused to fire on a peaceful enemy. And a young leader, from both the capital and the frontier, who had held the country together throughout a turbulent year. And who now rode on a red-brown stallion beside her.
Most of the city’s inhabitants could not truly have reached the streets through which she came, much less have come close enough to see her face. Yet descendants spoke of how she looked straight at their ancestors. How her gaze sought out individuals. How she called their names—bakers, coal dusters, farriers, and penny thieves. How she knew them.
What they did not know was that her hands shook as she rode into the center of the renamed Revolutionary Plaza, despite the absence of a long-since toppled scaffold. And that her chest pounded at the significance of the task ahead of her. The ferocity of her pulse calmed only by Robert’s grip, strong within hers, as she bent to re
trieve a scroll from its case along the neck of her bronze mare.
The people’s roar filled the plaza.
This is about them, Aurelia told herself. She saw, in their faces, the whole of Tyralt: the strength of the Valshone Mountains, the courage of the desert, the perseverance of the forest, the independence of the frontier, the diversity of the capital, and more. Not just the people before her, but their children throughout generations to come. Had she been monarch, she would have spoken on behalf of the citizens of Tyralt for a single lifetime; but as First Chosen, she heard their voices. And unfurled the document that would ensure everyone had the right to speak.
“On behalf of the People”—her heart rang within the words—“I declare all the inhabitants of this nation free.”
Other Books You May Enjoy
by Anne Osterlund
Aurelia
Exile
Academy 7
Salvation
About the Author
Anne Osterlund is the author of five young adult books, including Aurelia and Exile—the first two books in Aurelia and Robert’s trilogy. Anne’s second book, Academy 7, won the OCTE Spirit of Oregon Award and was an ALA/YALSA Popular Paperback nominee. Her fourth novel, Salvation, won two International Latino Book Awards. Anne lives in a cute little yellow house with her new feline friend, Simba, and her own library of young adult books. She grew up in the sunshine of eastern Oregon and began writing her first trilogy several years ago when the main character introduced herself—on a yellow notepad—and began to complain about being stuck at an abominable party with an itching ankle. Since then Anne has done her best to help Aurelia avoid suffering that particular fate ever again. Anne and her characters can be found on her website at www.anneosterlund.com. Redemption is her fifth novel, and she has dreams of many more in the future.
Acknowledgments
Thank you. To my editor, Angelle Pilkington, for believing in Aurelia and Robert and for joining us on their entire epic journey. This story loves and lives and breathes because of you. To my agent, Kelly Sonnack, for endless support and patience in helping make this final novel a reality. To Karen Carter for her amazing, high-speed copyediting. To Maria Patla for the gorgeous cover design. To my dad, for helping Robert see how the battle on the frontier should have been waged. And for a thousand other minute historical details. To Dawn Sheirbon for her expertise with my website and myriad graphic and technological challenges. And to all my readers! Especially the ones who sent e-mails asking about Aurelia and Robert’s final journey. Your messages always arrived exactly when my characters and I needed them most.
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