“What do you wish to wear today, my lady?” Arlyn asked, hovering in front of the enormous cabinet that housed my wardrobe.
“You may choose, Arlyn,” I told her, for in that moment I truly did not care. It was supposed to be a quiet day, although now that the ambassadors were here, I guessed that my brother would put on yet another entertainment this evening — a grand concert, or perhaps a play, although I was not sure the ambassadors would approve of such an amusement. I had heard their people were very strict, and did not approve of women putting on costumes and enacting made-up stories, let alone sharing the stage with men.
All in all, Keshiaar sounded like quite a harsh place, and I was glad to be here in Sirlende, where we were more liberal in our beliefs. True, women did not have the same freedoms as men, but at least they were allowed to go about on their errands unaccompanied, if that was what they wished, and could even manage their own businesses — as long as they were not the type of business deemed unsuitable for a woman. Running an inn or managing a bake shop or working at embroidery were all considered seemly occupations, while overseeing a factory or building a house most definitely were not.
“The wine-colored velvet, my lady?” Arlyn asked, holding up the gown in question. “And your garnet ensemble?”
That seemed well enough, so I nodded. “That will be fine, Arlyn.”
And so she helped me into my chemise and my gown, then brushed and curled my hair. As she was setting the delicate diadem of garnets and gold on top of my head, a knock came at my door. Arlyn murmured an apology to me and went to answer it. Outside stood one of the footmen. He handed her a folded piece of creamy paper, and said, “For Her Highness.”
She bobbed her head and thanked him, then shut the door and came back over to me. “This is for you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Arlyn.” I took the paper from her and unfolded it. The heavy black handwriting was unmistakable — Torric’s. The message was brief enough: Come to my chambers at eleven o’clock. There is something we need to discuss. ~T
Ah, perhaps the mystery would at last be cleared up. I thought I should be relieved, but again that shiver of misgiving went through me, and somehow I guessed I should not be quite so eager to hear what my brother had to say.
But as I could not refuse an audience with the Emperor — even if that Emperor also happened to be my brother — I knew I could only go and hear him out, and discover that all he wanted was to discuss the opening of a new trade route, or dropping the tariffs on imports of Keshiaari silks. We had had such talks in the past, for he was not the tiresome sort of man who believes a woman cannot provide good counsel. Now, though, I thought such commonplaces were not precisely what he had on his mind.
At a few minutes to eleven, I left my suite, accompanied by Arlyn, and made my way from the East Tower to the sumptuous chambers Torric now shared with Ashara. As I entered, though, I could see no sign of my sister-in-law. My brother stood in front of the hearth, staring down into the fire, which was crackling cheerily away.
“Torric,” I said, after Arlyn had shut the door behind me.
He turned, but offered me no smile of greeting. “Ah, Lyarris. Good.” An off-hand gesture toward a pitcher and two goblets that sat on a side table. “Some mulled wine?”
I thought it a bit early for such refreshment. However, something in his expression told me I should not demur, so I went and picked up one of the goblets. “I sense that you have something on your mind.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“To me, yes.” I sipped some of the wine; it had been mixed with cider, and so was not quite as potent as it might otherwise be. “It is not usually your way to spend an entire evening avoiding me. Tell me, what do those ambassadors want, precisely?”
“Direct as always.” He took up the second goblet; however, I noticed he did not drink, but merely held it, as if he wanted to absorb some of its warmth, although the room was certainly comfortable enough. “Yes, Lyarris. They have come to me with a…proposition.”
“Oh, dear, that sounds ominous,” I remarked, hoping to coax a smile from him with my light tone.
But his expression remained sober. “I fear you will think it so. It appears the Hierarch’s consort has…died…and he seeks a new wife. Of course his advisors’ first thought was of you, as you hold a rank befitting a son of desert kings.”
I could only stare at Torric blankly, his words somehow not taking on any shape that made sense. At last I found my voice. “But of course you told them I was already engaged.”
Then he did lift the goblet and take a large swallow of the mulled wine. Not looking at me directly, he replied, “Your engagement is not formal. It has not been announced.”
“Well, it will be! We had meant to say something earlier, but you wished to announce Ashara’s pregnancy first, which is as it should be. But for all intents and purposes, Thani and I are betrothed.” These protests tumbled out one after the other without my even stopping to take a breath, as if I knew I had to utter them as quickly as I could before Torric could come up with some other argument. Yes, it was true that the Duke of Marric’s Rest and I had not yet published the notice of our engagement, but that was merely a formality.
Torric drained the goblet and poured himself some more of the mulled wine. “No, you are not engaged. Not formally.” This time he did face me, the handsome, familiar features tight with strain. “Do you not think I don’t know what I am asking of you? But this — this is an opportunity I had never dreamed would be yours. The Hierarch’s consort! The two greatest empires in the world joined! How can you pass that up for a mere duke?”
Anger flared in me. “He is not ‘mere’ to me, Torric. He happens to be the man I love. Or does that count for nothing with you?”
“Of course it does,” he replied, clearly exasperated. “But I need you to think like a princess, Lyarris, not a woman in love.”
“Indeed?” I snapped, not bothering to hide the fury in my voice. “That is rather disingenuous of you, brother, considering you threw your entire empire into an uproar so that you might choose the woman of your heart, and not a foreign princess. Or is it simply that only a man is deserving of such considerations, whereas a woman must do as she is told?”
“Oh, for all the gods’ sake!” He paused then, clearly struggling within himself, and set down the goblet he held. When he spoke again, his tone was gentler. “Yes, I did overthrow convention to take Ashara as my wife. And I had hoped that you would be able to find a similar happiness in your own marriage. If it were anyone else, I would have sent them packing. But this is not some petty princeling’s piddling second son. This is the Hierarch of Keshiaar who has asked for your hand. It would be utter insanity to refuse him.”
Logically, I knew his words were only the truth. But my heart was already given to someone else, and it cried out at the cruel request my brother was making of me. I could not do it. I simply could not.
As I stood there, tense and quiet, Torric approached me and took my own goblet from my hands, then placed it next to his on the table. “I will not ask you for an answer now. I only told the ambassadors I would speak with you. They seemed surprised by that, but agreed to wait.”
“Of course they were surprised,” I said bitterly, “for in their own land I have heard that a woman has no true will of her own, and must do everything as the men in her family bid her.”
“Oh, then they are a sensible people,” Torric replied, his tone teasing. But he sobered abruptly when he saw no answering smile on my face. “Take this,” he added, and pulled a small pouch from the inner pocket of his doublet.
Uncertainly, I took it from him, felt a hard oval shape within. I drew it from inside the pouch and saw that it was a miniature portrait, set in a frame of cunning enamel work picked out with cabochon garnets and turquoise. The man depicted in the portrait was young, although perhaps a few years older than my brother, dark as all the people of Keshiaar were, but with even, regular features. His eyes were a surpr
ising shade, almost amber, striking against the swarthy skin.
“He is…handsome,” I managed.
“Yes, he is. I would not ask such a thing of you if he were old, or ill-favored, or anything less than someone deserving of the Crown Princess of Sirlende.”
Irritation flared again, and I shoved the miniature back in its pouch. “Do you think me so shallow that I can be swayed simply because the man in question is not objectionable in appearance?”
“Of course not!” Abruptly, Torric pulled off the circlet he wore, and ran his hand through his hair. It was a gesture familiar to me, one he resorted to when frustrated. “Again, I am not asking you to decide anything today. Just please — think on the matter.”
I felt I could not bear to look at Torric for a second longer. “I could ponder the matter forever and a day, and still it would not change my mind. I cannot — I will not sell myself to someone just so you can improve your trade agreements with Keshiaar!”
And with that I stormed away from him and burst out into the corridor, startling Arlyn, who appeared to have been indulging in a flirtation with one of the guards who always stood watch outside the Emperor’s chambers. She knew better than to ask any questions, though, and merely trotted along after me as I took long, angry strides back to my own chambers, where I slammed the door and then threw the miniature in its pouch onto the nearest table.
After that, there was really nothing to do but burst into tears.
* * *
Some time later I heard a gentle knock on the door to my suite. By then I had more or less recovered myself — or at least I had ceased weeping into the pillows on my bed and had gone back out to the sitting room, where I made myself take a seat at the desk and pretend to look over some of my writings from the day before. Not that I cared two figs in that particular moment about the tale of a talking bear and two sisters, a story related to me by one of Arlyn’s fellow serving girls, but at least by shuffling the papers, I had forced myself to some semblance of calm.
Through all this Arlyn had hovered in the background, clearly worried by my apparent breakdown, but too well trained to do anything but wait it out. When that knock at the door came, she hurried over to answer it with an alacrity that would have amused me at almost any other time, but now only made me want to shake my head.
Standing outside was Ashara, flanked by two ladies-in-waiting and several guards. The set of her mouth told me how much she disliked having such a retinue follow her wherever she went, but for the Empress such things were expected, and therefore nonnegotiable. I myself had managed to dispense with such a gaggle of followers, save for my maid, some years earlier, telling Torric that I simply could not bear to have those women spying on everything I did. That announcement had caused quite an uproar in the household, for of course my mother, the Dowager Empress, thought it the grossest breach of protocol. But Torric had prevailed, and I was left blessedly alone. Ashara, however, had not been allowed that luxury.
“May we speak?” she asked formally.
“Of course,” I replied at once. I knew precisely why she was here, and I did not wish for such a conversation. But I also knew to turn her away would only set tongues wagging. “Arlyn, go and fetch us some tea, if you please.”
That would get her safely out of the way for a while. In actuality, she would go out and relay the request for tea to one of the upper-level maids, who would then pass it down the chain of command until the order arrived at the kitchens. But at least she would remain outside until the tea in question appeared, and that should take several minutes. And Ashara’s retinue would not be allowed to follow her into my chambers, but rather would have to loiter in the hall until Her Majesty’s business was concluded.
She came in and paused, and one of the guards moved forward to shut the door behind her. I could see the relief pass visibly over her face before she moved forward and took a seat on the divan before the fire.
“One would think you would be used to all that, after three months,” I said.
“I doubt I ever shall, but I will endeavor to hope that it will become slightly less obtrusive as time wears on,” she replied, a little smile at the corner of her mouth telling me that she had recognized my teasing for what it was. Then even that faint smile faded, and she added, “I suppose you know why I am here.”
“I can guess. Torric knows that I am angry with him, and so has sent you as his ambassador, thinking that perhaps you can persuade me where he has not.”
A shake of her head, those amazing dark copper curls shimmering in the firelight. “Well, that is what he asked of me, but it is not the real reason I came.”
“It isn’t?” I inquired in some surprise. Oh, Ashara was not overly meek, and had stood up to Torric on more than one occasion if the situation warranted it. But they were usually of one mind on everything, and so they rarely disagreed. For some reason, I had thought for sure she would have sided with my brother on this matter.
“No, of course not!” she burst out. “Lyarris, you are the sister I always wished for. Surely you cannot think I would support sending you away to marry someone simply because it was politically expedient! I told Torric as much, and he said that while he admired my idealism, such sentiment had no place in politics.”
“He is right, you know. I should be thinking coldly. I should be remembering my place as the Crown Princess of Sirlende, and doing what is best for the empire.” Suddenly my legs felt as if they could not support me any longer, and I sank down on the divan next to her. “But oh, Ashara, I cannot do it! Perhaps if I did not love someone else — perhaps if my heart were not already given — I could have made myself submit to such a scheme. Torric seems to think that because this Hierarch is not so many years older than I, and comely, it would be easier.”
“It is because Torric is a man,” Ashara replied, fine eyebrows drawing together even as she reached out to pat my hand. “And your brother. That is, in his mind he feels that he had some hand in drawing your attention to Sorthannic Sedassa, and so because he had done so once before, he can now redirect those attentions to the ruler of Keshiaar.”
“It is not the same thing at all!”
“Well, I know that, and you know that, but….” She let the words trail off, and I saw some curiosity in her eyes. “And how is it that you know he is comely?”
Without replying, I stood and went over to my desk, where I had set the little pouch containing the Hierarch’s portrait. I pulled out the beautiful jewel-like piece and brought it back over to my sister-in-law, then laid it in her hand.
Her brows lifted, and she gave a nod. “Ah, well, if this portrait is anything close to a true one, then I can see that he is quite handsome. And, as you said, if you had not already given your heart to someone else, perhaps that would be enough. But, circumstances being what they are….” She shook her head. “I will attempt to talk some sense into your brother, make him see that just because the formal announcement has not been made, it does not mean you have not already bound yourself to Lord Sorthannic.”
“He will only try to browbeat me with arguments about trade agreements and such,” I said with some bitterness.
“Well, he can try. However, I will tell him that trade agreements are all very well, but they do not keep a woman warm at night.”
“Ashara!” I exclaimed, somewhat shocked that she would utter such a thing. Heat flooded my cheeks. Of course I knew they were a very affectionate pair — too affectionate, some might say, and remark that such obvious love between the Emperor and his wife was not seemly — but I had not expected her to ever allude so openly to those sorts of relations.
“Oh, what point is it trying to avoid such things?” Her gaze slid toward her belly, and she ran one hand over the skirts of her copper-colored velvet gown, although she was slender as always, showing no sign of the child she carried. “I rather think it would be disingenuous to imply that my relationship with the Emperor is not intimate. At any rate,” she went on, getting to her feet so she mi
ght move closer to the fire, “it is not as if the Keshiaari ambassadors know that your engagement to Lord Sorthannic is not precisely formal.”
“Oh, I think they know that very well,” I said darkly. I loved Ashara, and she had a quick mind, but she had not yet lived at court long enough to know that everything the imperial family did — or did not do — was common knowledge. And even if it were not, well, lands with far less influence and wealth than Keshiaar had their spies here in Sirlende, so of course I could expect no less of that desert empire.
A certain knowing light entered her eyes, and she gave a brief nod. “Well, if that is the case, then I think it best that you write to his lordship. Have him come to you here in Iselfex. Do not tell him the reason why, only that it is urgent. He will come, will he not?”
“Yes,” I replied immediately. True, Thani had been back at Marric’s Rest for not quite a fortnight, but I knew he would return to the capital if I asked. And it would be so much easier to face down my brother if it were the two of us doing it. “That is an excellent idea, Ashara. I will dispatch a letter to him at once.” On a sudden impulse, I went to her and gave her a quick hug. “Although Torric is being rather pig-headed about this particular matter, I do have to admit that he showed extremely good judgment when he chose you.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she laughed and gave an airy wave of one hand. “Oh, well, when the alternative is the Lady Brinda Aldrenne, that makes the choice somewhat easier, does it not?”
I gave a mock shudder. “I suppose that is true.”
Arlyn returned at that point with the tea, and we moved the conversation to more innocuous topics. I had no idea how much of the reason for the ambassadors’ visit had already begun to circulate through the palace, but I saw no reason to give the gossips any additional ammunition. And after an appropriate interval, Ashara excused herself — no doubt to return to Torric and gravely inform him that I was intractable when it came to the Hierarch’s suit, and that the ambassadors had made this long journey for nothing.
One Thousand Nights (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6) Page 2