Maryna felt a little sad. She’d said goodbye to Uncle Arryk, who didn’t want her to go with Natalya. But he never won any arguments with her, and Maryna wanted to go. She hoped he would be all right on his own.
“What are you going to tell Teodora?” Maryna asked.
“We have a great deal to discuss.” Natalya leaned back against the cushions, looking pleased. “Not only do I know what she was trying to do in here in Norovaea, I also have proof of her involvement.”
She patted one of her pockets. “Before they died, I got signed confessions from all of her agents. And once we’ve stopped in Galladium, I’ll have even more proof. I will force her to renegotiate the treaty with your uncle, and demand she reinstate your father.”
“Will she do it?” Natalya was persuasive, but from what Maryna knew of Teodora, she was especially stubborn and difficult.
“She’ll do part of it. It’s possible to compromise with Teodora as long as she has Livilla Maxima with her. She’s a good friend of mine and can persuade Teodora to be reasonable.”
“Maximas seem to be good at that.” Maryna smiled at Natalya.
“It’s something we’re trained to do. We learn to look at all sides of a problem, decide how best to solve it, then get as close as we can to the ideal solution, all while realizing we’ll never get everything we want.”
“That sounds hard.”
“It is, at first. Though you’d be good at it.” Natalya smiled back. “I told your father long ago you’d make an excellent Maxima, though your life will take a different path.”
“I could be a Maxima,” Maryna said. It sounded like a lot more fun than ruling Terragand. “I’m sure Devyn won’t mind being prince instead of me.”
Natalya chuckled. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. And while it’s true you’d make a good Maxima, those same qualities will make you an excellent ruler. I’m sure you’ll be just as good at it.”
Maryann doubted that, but forgot all about it when they reached the Lyra , a pretty little frigate. Once she found her cabin and left her maid to unpack her things, she went back up on deck.
It was a lovely, warm day; perfect sailing weather. Now it just had to last to the southern tip of Maladena and back up to Capo. Though Maryna thought she might enjoy a storm, she never wanted to be shipwrecked like Uncle Arryk had.
Teodora
To his credit, the boy showed no fear. “Good morning, Mother,” he said with a nod toward Mattila and a bow in Teodora’s direction. “Your Highness.”
“Jozef!” Mattila gasped, nearly falling into the nearest chair.
Teodora hoped she’d remember Mattila’s stricken expression for the rest of her days. It was at least a start to repaying the humiliations of the past.
“Jozef has been staying with us these past few weeks.”
“How?” Mattila looked like she was gasping for air.
Teodora sat back down, unable to hide a small smile. She had worried that Mattila might have no feeling for her only child, but it seemed she did, fortunately for Teodora.
“Your husband received your letter asking for a divorce. Oddly, he’s resistant to the idea. He and young Jozef came to ask if I could intervene. I told him I was unable to interfere in a personal and religious matter, but that it might be a good idea to give me some insurance against unwise behavior on your part.”
That wasn’t quite how the conversation had gone. Mattila’s husband objected to the divorce because her offer wasn’t sufficient. He wanted estates in addition to money.
But the fact he’d brought his son was the main thing for Teodora. Even though she hadn’t decided how to use the boy, she was certain having him in custody would prove useful.
His father shouted and carried on a great deal, and spent two uncomfortable nights in the Arnfels before he agreed to leave his eighteen-year-old son in Teodora’s care.
Jozef shot Teodora an amused look, as though to remind her he knew the truth.
She didn’t worry. It was clear to her he cared little for his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in years.
“Are they treating you well?” Mattila asked her son.
For the first time ever, Teodora spotted panic in her eyes. She would relish this moment forever.
“Well enough.” Jozef shrugged. “I’m bored, since I’m not allowed to go out, but there are several pretty maids in the palace. I expect to present you with a grandchild before long.”
Mattila made a dismissive noise but also looked relieved.
Teodora smiled. Jozef took after his father, a tall, good-looking, empty-headed man. And Teodora’s housekeeper had come to her twice, complaining of finding maids in compromising positions with the young man. Teodora didn’t mind, as long as it kept him from thinking of a way to escape.
She cleared her throat. “As you can see, your son is well and—dare I say—thriving under my care. He will remain well, happy and amused as long as you behave yourself.”
“I will kill you.” Mattila remained in her chair, but now she leaned across the table, staring at Teodora through narrowed eyes, her cheeks bright red.
“I wouldn’t advise that.” Teodora smiled. She hadn’t felt this happy in years, maybe ever.
“Please don’t do that, Mother,” Jozef said. “I’d hate to lose my head. Surely the two of you can come to an agreement.”
He crossed his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels, rosy-cheeked, his bright brown eyes flashing first at his mother, then at Teodora with perfect good humor.
Teodora already admired the young scoundrel for his complete lack of fear during the unpleasantness with his father; now she liked him even more. After dealing with a difficult hostage like Aksel Roussay, she appreciated someone less intelligent and obstinate.
“You’re right.” She smiled at Jozef. “I’m sure we can make a deal we can both live with.”
Lennart
Princess Edyta’s drinking bout had gone so well, Lennart left Podoska with several thousand fresh troops and the promise of more to come. He added these to Trystan’s command, so he now led a force as large as any of Lennart’s generals.
After his clever handling of the battle at Kaltental, no one questioned Trystan’s ability. Even Princess Edyta had seemed impressed, which made Lennart feel good on Trystan’s behalf.
Since Oltena was already firmly in Lennart’s camp, he bypassed it altogether, sending Princess Galena a friendly note asking her to send her troop levies straight south. They could join up with Lennart in Lantura, his next stop.
He didn’t expect trouble from Prince Eldrid, since he’d provided troops before. But the prince turned out to be reluctant.
“This will be our first good harvest in three years,” the querulous old man said. “I already gave you most of my militia. I can’t spare anyone further until late autumn.”
“If we wait that long,” Lennart said, careful to keep his tone patient, “we won’t make it over the Galwend mountains before the first snow.”
“Then wait until spring.” The prince shrugged. “Once the planting’s done, I’ll be happy to supply you a few thousand more troops. Not that you need them,” he added, a resentful glint in his eye.
With his army swelled to over twenty thousand, Lennart had no choice but to have his troops camped all over the land. It was summer, so he didn’t quarter them on the towns, but people and horses still ate a great deal, even if they paid for it.
“Maybe not the numbers,” Lennart admitted. “But your Lantura veterans are tough as they come. They did splendidly up at Kaltental, so you can’t blame me for wanting more.” He’d try flattery before sterner methods.
“It’s true my militia is exceptionally fine.” Prince Eldrid seemed gratified, but hardly swayed. “So I’d prefer to keep it here for my protection. Brynhild Mattila marched her army across my lands not three weeks ago. Didn’t cause any trouble this time, but I imagine she’s joining up with Teodora. When she comes back, things might get ugly.”
&nb
sp; “Not if I stop her before she gets to you,” Lennart said, happy to have his suspicions about Mattila’s movements confirmed.
“Huh,” the prince said. “You’re welcome to stay here,” he added. “Long as you like. In fact, your soldiers can help with the harvest. Get it all done twice as fast.”
“My soldiers are here to fight, not make hay.” Lennart smiled through his annoyance.
At a lengthy, wine-sodden dinner that evening, Lennart thought he might have figured out the problem.
A guest, newly arrived from Atlona, sat on the prince’s other side. A small, sharp-faced woman, she was introduced to Lennart as Countess Meryl Biaram.
“Don’t you work for the empress?” Lennart asked, a little more bluntly than was politic. He’d already had a fair amount of wine, hoping to make the dull conversation more interesting. He had a few sources in the court at Atlona, keeping him up-to-date on Teodora, though information had become scarce in the past months.
“Used to.” The countess rolled her eyes. “But her highness has been ill, and now that she’s improved, her behavior has been strange.”
“Strange how?”
“She no longer wishes to see old friends. I believe her doctor has turned her against me.”
The countess had dropped her voice, though everyone at her end of the table could hear well enough. “That woman never liked me.” She stared at her plate. “So I thought it best to stay away for a while. I have family in Kronland I haven’t visited in some time.”
Lennart didn’t buy it for a second. “How nice. Though it seems inconvenient to go visiting during wartime.”
“You’re so right.” The countess laughed; high-pitched, tinkling, false. “But the empress has been acting so oddly, I don’t feel safe in the capital, to be honest.”
“Teodora always acts oddly.” Prince Eldrid snorted. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from that witch. Surprised you didn’t do it long ago.”
“She’s always been difficult, it’s true.” The countess’s small eyes were wide and guileless. “But for years I hoped I could help steer her in a more reasonable direction.”
“Looks like you didn’t manage it,” Lennart said, still not believing a word.
He looked at the prince out of the corner of his eye. Had this creature of Teodora’s turned him against Lennart? What could she offer that Lennart hadn’t already?
He resolved to double his guard and sleep with a dagger under his pillow. He didn’t want to give up on the prince, but he’d have to tread carefully and see if there was a way to find out which way he was ready to spring.
Maryna
It was fun, sailing all the way out to sea in such beautiful weather. Maryna had never been outside the northern sea, and was curious about the lands to the west.
They’d stopped at a Floradias port, where Natalya retrieved and sent off several letters.
Maryna was pleased to find two letters waiting for her as well; one from her uncle and one from Magnus Torsen, thanking her for saving his life in the most courtly way.
Convinced she’d likely never see him again, Maryna shed a few tears, then slept with the letter under her pillow. She was working on a reply, though it was difficult to come up with words to show her feelings while remaining properly formal.
Maryna puzzled over this for a while, and it was rather nice, sitting in the sun on the rolling deck, a small wooden desk on her lap. She’d have to copy what she’d written the next time they made landfall, since writing on a ship didn’t work very well. The Lyra sailed smoothly, but it was still very different from dry land.
She didn’t realize how long Natalya had been gone, reading her large stack of letters. When the Maxima came out of her cabin after getting through the lot of them, she looked serious and pale.
Maryna had been hoping to ask for help with her letter to Magnus, but instead asked, “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” Natalya said, sitting down next to Maryna. The ship’s crew had made a nice little seat for her from sailcloth stretched over a pile of nets on the quarterdeck. From there she could stare out at the horizon as the ship raced westward, along the northern coast of Galladium.
Natalya sighed as she sank down beside her. “Things are going downhill in Allaux. I can’t rely on Gauvain to take the right tone with the Maladene ambassador, and I’m worried he’ll start a war.”
“But the king is so nice,” Maryna said. “Surely he wouldn’t offend anyone.”
“Not intentionally.” Natalya smiled. “But he can be stubborn and impatient, while the Maladenes take offense too easily. They are difficult to deal with, but I’d managed them so far. I wish your mother were there. She’s always had a deft hand for diplomacy.”
“Perhaps you should send her back to Allaux.” Maryna offered. Natalya had said her family was still at the king’s hunting lodge, but Maryna couldn’t imagine her mother being happy there.
“Not yet.” Natalya sighed again. “I hope it will be all right. I’ve written a letter with detailed instructions on how to handle the ambassador, and I’ll post it when we stop in Sarcy.”
So Maryna had to have her letter for Magnus ready by then.
When they docked at the port city a week later, Maryna had finished her letter, and copied it in her neatest hand while she waited in a pleasant inn for Natalya. They were staying overnight while Natalya took care of some business.
Being on land wasn’t as nice as Maryna had expected, since she still felt like she was on a swaying deck. She had pleasant memories of the town, since it was where she’d been reunited with her father after his long captivity. She longed to write to him, but Natalya forbade it.
“We can’t risk your letter falling into the wrong hands. Rumors might come from Norovaea, but it’s best if folk everywhere else think you’re dead.”
Maryna didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, since Natalya was the one who took all the letters to a messenger. Maryna didn’t know who else to ask. At least she let her send the letter to Magnus, since it would go by sea.
She’d smiled at Maryna after reading it over. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Maryna gulped. “A little, maybe. Though I know it can never be,” she added.
“Likely not.” Natalya’s eyes were kind. “And now your uncle has made him a duke, he’ll be expected to marry soon. You mustn’t be upset when you hear the news.”
Maryna nodded, swallowing down the pain that rose up at the thought.
“I know it feels awful right now, but I promise you’ll fall in love at least once more before you’re old enough to marry. Hopefully it’ll be with your future husband.”
“I hope so too,” Maryna whispered, gulping back tears. She didn’t want to go through this again.
But once they left Sarcy, Natalya’s mood improved. “The king will have my instructions in a few days, and I’m sure he’ll be able to avert war. I told him that Queen Zofya should take the lead with the Maladene ambassador. He’ll be more friendly toward an Inferrara, and Zofya is charming.”
Maryna thought of her friend with a pang. She’d never thought she’d miss a daughter of Teodora’s, but she liked Zofya a great deal. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before she saw her friends and family again. Adventure was all very well, but it could be frightening and lonely too, with Natalya busy so much of the time.
“Besides,” Natalya said with a smile, her hand resting on a wooden box she’d brought on board. “I have something here that will give Teodora the shock of her life. I plan to present this at the same time I introduce you. Once she sees what’s inside, I’m sure she’ll become much easier to negotiate with.”
Braeden
At the crossroads, Braeden had to decide. He could strike north and cross Brandana on his way back to Terragand. But would Kendryk be in Terragand?
Trisa rode up next to him. “What’s the problem, sir?”
“If you were Prince Kendryk, would
you stay in Terragand or would you go with Lennart to take on Teodora?”
“I’d go with Lennart.” Trisa didn’t hesitate.
Braeden grinned at her. “I should have phrased that differently, since you’re very much not Prince Kendryk. But you might be right. There’s not much he can do in Terragand right now. The important thing is securing all of Kronland against Teodora, and there’s no one better than Kendryk to inspire the other rulers.”
“So better we go straight, into Aquianus,” Trisa said. “We can cross the river at Lerania and head south from there. If Lennart’s already passed we’ll hear about it.”
“I agree. Lennart will be in a big hurry to get over the mountains before it snows, but he’s got a big army to move. I expect we’ll catch up to it quickly enough.”
That was the advantage of traveling with only his small escort, all of them on fast horses. He almost hadn’t managed it, Princess Gwynneth was so insistent.
“I can’t do it.” Her eyes had been panic-stricken. “I can’t sit here and wait any longer. Natalya and Maryna have been gone so long, I worry something’s gone wrong. And what’s worse, I’m sure Kendryk hasn’t heard from her either and doesn’t know we’re all right. What if he hears we’ve all been killed? I don’t know if he could survive it.”
“That would be awful.” In that moment, Braeden had his solution. “I can do something about that, but I need to move fast. I can find Kendryk and tell him what’s happened, that the rumors aren’t true and that Daciana Tomescu really is dead. I can’t do that if I have you and the children with me.”
Gwynneth slumped in her chair. She looked so different from the beautiful, poised princess Braeden had come to know well in the past year. Her shirt and breeches were too big, held up by a belt she’d borrowed from Trisa. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, her usually rosy cheeks were pale, her eyes dull and shadowed underneath. For someone like her to be kept inactive had to be worse than anything.
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 12