by Ben Wolf
Kent paused and closed his eyes, and he felt Aveyna kissing his shoulder and rubbing his bare chest.
“They cut her open and pulled the child, my son, from her womb,” Kent opened his eyes to try to stanch the memories of Miranda’s blood, of the carnage of new life. “And he was already dead.”
Aveyna gasped.
Kent continued, “They tried to sew her back up, but she had lost too much blood. The idea of losing them was hard enough, but knowing I had forced my wife to endure such a bloody, pointless death made it all the worse.
“The physicians later explained to me that her hips were not wide enough to bear a child naturally. The gods had not made her that way, they said. So my guilt at ordering the surgery shifted to guilt at ever having lain with her in the first place. If I had not insisted on continuing my family name, she might still be alive today.”
“You couldn’t have known, Kent.” Aveyna sat up and looked him straight in his eyes. “You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault.”
Kent nodded. “I know that now, of course. And yet, after coming to Inoth and witnessing miracles in action, seeing magic do things I could have never imagined, I cannot help but wonder if some form of magic may have saved her.”
Aveyna shook her head. “It was an impossible situation. You cannot hold yourself accountable for any part of it.”
Kent nodded again and cleared his throat to stave off the remainder of his emotion. “Forgive me for my demeanor. It is a difficult story to tell.”
Aveyna cupped his cheeks with her hands. “You have no reason to apologize.”
With a sigh, Kent leaned back and closed his eyes. “It has been nearly thirty years. I did not expect to miss her so severely after this long, but apparently I do.”
“It’s understandable. She was your first true love. That is a hard thing to grapple with, no matter how much time passes.”
Kent opened his eyes and looked at her beautiful face. “It is. And I can only imagine how you must be struggling with the death of your late husband.”
Aveyna’s soft countenance changed, and she looked down at the bed.
Damn. You should have kept your mouth shut, Kent. He bit his lower lip.
“I understand the wound is still fresh. I should not have said anything.”
Aveyna shook her head. “It’s not that.”
Kent squinted at her. “I apologize nonetheless. I have clearly upset you.”
Aveyna said nothing.
Kent gently took hold of her arms. “If you will tell me how I transgressed, I can begin to make things right.”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing you did. It cannot be helped.”
“What cannot be helped?”
“The way I feel.”
Kent sat there in silence for several moments, waiting for Aveyna to say more, but she didn’t. Finally, he started to speak again, but she cut him off.
“I poisoned my husband.”
Chapter Twelve
Kent sat up and looked at her. “What?”
“My husband,” Aveyna repeated. “I killed him. I poisoned him, and he died.”
Kent blinked. “Why?”
“He was cruel to me.”
“As in, he—”
“He hurt me, physically. He was the king, and there was no one I could turn to for help.” Aveyna pulled the furs over her bare chest and clung to them. “I feared he might kill me.”
Kent considered her words. Killing a king was a high crime, but she hadn’t done so out of greed or a desire to reign in his place. She’d done it to protect herself.
“He came close several times, but I recovered. No one else knew except for our royal physician, and he has since passed away.”
Kent eyed her. “Did you…”
“No,” Aveyna said. “Gods, no. Our physician, Archmage Ivelsted, was the only one who cared for me during those times. I could have never done such a thing to him.”
“So the prince does not know?”
“He certainly doesn’t know how his father died. Whether he knows about his father’s behavior toward me, I do not know.” Aveyna sighed. “Either way, it is done now.”
“If your husband was the king, then why is Prince Kymil not king now?”
“He married into the royal family. My parents were the king and queen until they died, and then my husband, Theldus, and I took power. The line passes through me, not through him. I am and have been the rightful ruler since my parents died,” she explained. “Though I think the discrepancy of power between us was the source of our contention.”
It made more sense that Aveyna would kill her husband under those circumstances. As the rightful ruler, she was removing a hindrance to her reign in the most expedient way she knew how.
Kent wasn’t sure he liked the idea of it, but he had to admire her pragmatism. He’d heard of royal scandals throughout history, including murders for power-grabs and usurpations. Aveyna had acted in kind, but it was only to secure what was already hers.
Though there could possibly have been another way.
Kent asked, “If you were the rightful ruler, why did you not expose Theldus for what he was?”
“I was not always as strong as you perceive me to be now. For a man to lay his hands on a woman one moment and then grovel and apologize and swear his undying love the next moment—it is confusing and difficult.” Aveyna clutched the furs tighter. “Then one day, something within me just snapped. The next morning, he was dead, in bed next to me.
“Archmage Ivelsted knew what I had done immediately, but he said nothing. Instead, he declared Theldus’s death a tragedy, and we burned his body that night.” Aveyna stared at the embers glowing from the hearth. “And that marked the end of my marriage.”
Were Aveyna’s husband to be exposed for what he was, Kent assumed he would have been executed anyway. And with Aveyna being the supreme law of Inoth, she would be the one passing the sentence.
Had Aveyna executed him publicly, her subjects would have known every part of this aspect of her personal life. So perhaps she had done it privately to avoid unnecessary public stigma and scrutiny of her actions from that point on.
It was, upon Kent’s reflection, both a shrewd and necessary decision.
Though he had to admit it gave him pause all the same. Part of him had to wonder how quickly Aveyna might end his life if he were to cross her in some way, even just inadvertently.
But on the whole, Kent both felt sympathy for her for what she’d had to endure as well as admiration that she’d taken control of the situation to put a stop to it. “I am quite certain I will never understand what you went through, but I am glad you are safe now.”
Aveyna’s concentration broke, and she looked at Kent again. “So am I.”
She shifted and lay back down, pulling him down with her. Then she intertwined her leg with his, pressed herself against him, and lay on his chest again.
“Will we get to do this again?” she asked.
“I would much prefer it to stopping,” Kent replied.
“Good. I was worried I might scare you away.” She rested her chin on her hands, which she laid on his chest with her elbows out to her sides, and she stared at him. “You’re so handsome. It would be a pity to miss out on seeing you this close up on a regular basis.”
Kent grinned and tousled a lock of her blonde hair. “I completely agree.”
“I am worried about Kymil, though.”
The mere mention of Kymil soured Kent’s attitude. He tried not to let it enter his voice. “How so?”
“I suspect he would not approve of this.”
Kent huffed. “You are the queen. It is not his place to approve or disapprove.”
“I know, but it still bothers me to know he may be unhappy.”
At that moment, half-underneath the most beautiful woman in all of Aletia, Kent couldn’t have cared less about her pale, insolent son’s happiness. But he cared about her, and if Kymil’s unhappiness hindered her happiness
, then perhaps there was something he could do about it.
“Would you like me to speak with him?”
She rose up and looked at him with those incredible light-blue eyes. “You would do that?”
Kent hesitated. What had he just committed himself to? “I will if you think it may help.”
“I think it’s worth a try,” she said. “He really is a kindhearted young man.
And you’re wonderful. Once you two forge a stronger relationship and understanding, I imagine his views on you will soften.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” She smiled at him. “He is going hunting tomorrow with Grak and General Deoward. I will ask him to include you on the excursion.”
“Grak actually leaves your side?” Kent scoffed. “I didn’t know he was capable of being away from you for more than a few minutes at a time.”
Aveyna laughed. “He is very dedicated. And I believe he harbors a deep infatuation with me. So far, it has only manifested as protective feelings, but I would have you remain watchful all the same. He can be a bit vindictive at times.”
“So I have noticed.”
“To answer your question, yes. He is taking leave tomorrow to hunt with and protect Kymil. He accompanies Kymil on all excursions away from the palace because I do not trust anyone else to properly protect him.” She kissed Kent’s chest. “Except, perhaps, for you. I believe you could protect him, if need be. And that’s all the more reason why you should go along tomorrow.”
“If that is your wish, then I shall obey.”
Aveyna beamed at him. “Thank you.”
She pulled herself up to his face and kissed him again, deep and passionate, with her bare body pressed against his. The fire ignited again, even as the embers in the hearth continued to cool.
Morning sunlight and a chill in the room woke Kent. He crawled out of bed, still tired from the late night and its festivities, both during and after the banquet, and made his way into the bath chamber. He relieved himself and then returned to the bedchamber where Aveyna awaited him.
He positioned some logs in the hearth along with some straw and used two striking stones to spark a fire. Within minutes, he got it going, and he rejoined Aveyna in bed. She thanked him profusely for rekindling the fire, both with her words and with her body.
When they finished, she rose from the bed and donned a silk robe. “You should probably return to your chambers soon. We ought not push our good fortune.”
“I agree,” he said.
Aveyna sat at her vanity and began brushing her hair. “But before you leave, I wanted to explain to you my plans regarding Muroth going forward.”
Kent tilted his head. “Certainly. But do you not also want to share these plans with your other advisors?
“I will,” she replied. “But I want to make sure you and I are in agreement prior to any such meetings.”
A sense of uneasiness filled Kent’s stomach. First, she reveals that she poisoned her husband to death. Now she wants to discuss policy regarding my former country solely with me, without the other advisors present?
“I will admit, you have aroused my interest,” Kent said.
Aveyna shook her head and looked at him through the mirror. “There’s no cause for concern. I merely want to explain to you the steps I’ve taken to finally bring an end to the ongoing conflict with Muroth.”
She kept referring to it as an “ongoing conflict.” In Muroth, they’d always just called it what it was: war.
“And what would that be?” he asked.
“A temporary cessation of hostilities to provide space for a parlay. I have drawn up a treaty. If we can convince Muroth to sign it, we will no longer have to fight. Perhaps someday we may even become allies.”
A parlay? A treaty? Allies? Kent couldn’t believe his ears.
He sat up in the bed. “Aveyna, that is fine and noble thinking, but I fear it amounts to little more than a dream. A fantasy. Muroth is entrenched in its beliefs regarding magic and Inoth, and it is still bitter over having lost Inoth in the first place. I do not foresee much changing on that front.”
“Perhaps you need a more positive outlook on the situation.”
“Perhaps you need a more realistic outlook instead.” Kent regretted it as soon as he’d said it, but it was too late.
Aveyna stopped brushing her hair and stared at him through the mirror.
“Forgive my impertinence, my queen,” he said. “It is just that I have little faith that Muroth will go along with such ideas.”
She stood and walked over to the bed, and Kent admired the way the robe clung to her in all the right places.
Aveyna sat on the bed next to him, put her finger under his chin, and kissed his lips lightly. “I already sent the letter.”
Kent’s eyes widened. “Aveyna…”
“I know what you’re going to tell me. You’re going to say that it’s a sign of weakness and that Muroth is sure to exploit it.”
Kent blinked at her. “That is almost word-for-word what I had in mind.”
“Then there is only one way to find out, my love.” She kissed him again, just a peck on his lips, and then she stood again and headed back toward her vanity.
That view was just as good as when she’d walked over to him.
Kent shook himself back to cognition. “Unless you can reach your messenger before he makes it to Muroth. Depending on when you sent him, and if you have a rider fast enough to catch up, we may be able to rescind the message in time.”
Aveyna sat at the vanity and continued to brush her hair. “I’m afraid no rider in Inoth will be fast enough to catch this messenger.”
“And why not?”
“Because I hired a freelance mercenary to deliver the message for me.” She smiled at him. “A wyvern rider, formerly employed by the Govalian Army. He’ll have arrived by now.”
Kent cursed under his breath. She was right. And she’d purposely hired a wyvern rider knowing that once she sent the message, it could not be undone. “I do not know what else to say.”
“Then I will speak,” she said. “I promoted you to the role of advisor so you might advise me on how to forge peace between our two nations, not so you could help me overpower or subdue Muroth. I covet your knowledge of Muroth’s internal politics because that knowledge means a quicker path to peace, not further extending this conflict.”
Kent rubbed his eyes. “I am not trained in the art of peacemaking. I am trained in the art of war.”
“But you are trained in the art of negotiation, are you not? And you know our negotiating partners better than anyone else in Inoth ever could,” she countered. “Surely Muroth must’ve had plans for Inoth had you found a way to overcome us.”
“Yes, but they all involved the subjugation and absorption of Inoth and its people into Muroth again. It would have included the enslavement or execution of any person using magic, regardless of their age.
“It would have meant the absolute end of life as you now know it,” Kent blurted. “None of it is good for Inoth. No plans Muroth has for your country—for our country—are good.”
“Then we must convince them otherwise.” Aveyna set her hairbrush down and turned toward him. “I will be relying on you to help me achieve that end.”
Kent shook his head. “I will do what I can, but the hatred and fear of magic are so deeply ingrained within Murothians that I doubt they will agree to any terms you propose.”
“For now, we need only convince my other advisors and Kymil.”
“You know I will obey you, of course,” Kent said. “I will never oppose you openly, but I would like to request that you keep one consideration in mind.”
“And that is?”
“If your call for peace fails,” Kent said, “then we must prepare to fight.”
“I am not opposed to violence and killing as a means to achieve peace.” Aveyna walked over to him again. “But we have repeatedly tried those methods since this conflict began, and nothing h
as changed. I would prefer that my legacy be an attempt to resolve our differences with Muroth through diplomacy rather than on the battlefield.”
Her actions would also likely make it harder for Kent to exact vengeance on Fane. If he were aiding Inoth in waging war on Muroth, then Fane and House Etheridge would naturally come within his circle of focus at some point. And killing Fane on a battlefield was just as good as anywhere else.
Kent nodded at her nonetheless. “That is admirable. As I said, I will support you, but in truth, I hold little hope for success.”
“We will see, my love.” She planted a lingering kiss on his lips, and then she pulled away. “Now I suggest you get dressed, get back to your chambers, and prepare to go hunting. You don’t want to be late.”
With a bowstring across his chest and a full quiver of arrows hanging from his hip, Kent rode north out of the palace stables next to General Deoward, following behind Grak and Prince Kymil.
They exited through a guarded, heavily reinforced gate on the north side of the city, but not the city’s main northern gate. Deoward mentioned it was a sort of open secret.
The gate was not used for any other reason than to allow the royal family and those in the queen’s court private access to everything that lay beyond the city’s walls—or a private way into the city. When not in use, the gate remained shut, locked, and guarded by a small contingent of Inothian soldiers.
Beyond the northern city walls lay the vast forest. When Kent had arrived in Goldmoor, he had entered via the city’s western gates, and thus he had only seen the forest from a great distance. Now they were headed straight for it to hunt deer, boar, and other wild game.
As they rode, Deoward explained the forest’s history, particularly how it had long since supplied Goldmoor with timber for homes, firewood, shipbuilding, and more. Beyond that, he said, the animals in the forest made for good sport and even better eating.
Along the way, they passed through sprawling plains of farmland that alternated between growing crops and kept grazing cattle and sheep fed and occupied.