by Jayne Faith
I plucked at the fabric of my silken pants, suddenly a bit self-conscious about the next topic I planned to initiate.
“I know we do not have the luxury of time,” I said. “But I need to understand why my mother is plotting against me. Not just for personal reasons, but to try to prevent her further actions that threaten the Return to Earthenfell. I hope you will indulge me and, more importantly, help me fill in some of the blanks.”
The Priestess folded her hands on her desk and tilted her head slightly in a gesture that somehow conveyed a subtle sympathy. “I do not think it an indulgence, my Lord, but a necessity. If your mother is the one in the Oracle’s vision—the member of the royal family that the Oracle saw sabotaging our chance at Earthenfell—it would serve us well to understand her actions.”
“How sure are we that the person in the vision is my mother?” I asked, suddenly realizing that we hadn’t thoroughly discussed our suspicions in some time. “It still could turn out to be Akantha.”
“It could be, but as of yet, Akantha is not a member of the royal family.”
“There is also that possibility that we mentioned once before, that the royal in the Oracle’s vision could be anyone in my family, including me. That the actions that sabotage the path to Earthenfell might be accidental or some side effect of another choice.”
The Priestess pursed her lips and nodded slowly. “We should not eliminate any possibilities, but . . . well, to be frank I do not think the stars would give the Oracle a vision of accidental actions. I believe—or I want to believe, anyway—that the vision came to her, to us, so that we could prevent it. Trying to prevent an innocent mistake would be almost impossible. I do not see why the stars would even bother giving us the prophecy in the first place. The Oracle’s visions are very rare, and I have to believe they are deeply significant. Showing us a fluke, an unfortunate accident, just doesn’t seem to fit.”
I let out a breath. “I’m content to go along with that reasoning, and though I have no proof, my instincts tell me that you’re probably right. It’s a relief, actually, to stop worrying about that scenario. So, back to my mother.”
She made a little humming noise of acquiescence. “You’ve mentioned, or perhaps simply alluded, that you never felt she was particularly supportive of you taking the throne.”
My hands wanted to tense, my fingers seeming to curl into my palms on their own, but I forced my palms flat against the armrests of my chair. “I can’t say with much certainty that was her attitude before my abduction, but after I returned, there was no doubt in my mind that she thought I was not suited to become Lord. At that point, it was because of how my captivity had changed me. I do not completely blame her. I was not a suitable heir to the throne when I first came back. But . . . there was something deeper she had against me.”
My voice had weakened as I spoke, and the last sentence I said at nearly a whisper. I was confessing things I’d never said aloud to anyone, and my very soul seemed to tremble at how vulnerable it made me feel.
I cleared my throat and pressed on. “Again, I’m not sure how much of this I’m projecting backward into the time before my abduction, but my sense was that she always favored Jeric. Not that she was affectionate toward him. She was always more preoccupied with trying to hold my father’s attention than nurturing her children.”
The Priestess raised one brow. “Queen Stella’s jealousy of your father’s harem was not exactly a secret.”
“She hated the harem women. I think she hates my harem even today. A habit of jealousy that still lingers,” I said.
“We know she had Maya kidnapped and poisoned. What I do not know is what drove that action. Did she do it because she saw that you had a developing affection for Maya and simply did not like it? Or did your mother have some knowledge of Maya’s importance in the Return?”
I winced, thinking of how I’d failed to mask my feelings for Maya. How my failure had put her in so much danger.
“The implication of the latter is . . .” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I can’t see how my mother would know that Maya has a role in the Return. I don’t know how anyone outside the Temple, aside from me, could know such a thing.”
“The implication is deeply disturbing, but we’ve learned many things lately that have changed our understanding of so much of what we thought we knew for sure.” The Priestess shook her head and looked down at her hands. “I admit I’m still trying to process what Novia has uncovered, about how the Pirros somehow play a part in our religion. Possibly in the Return. That they could even have had possession of the secret volume of the sacred text at some point.”
My blood went cold at the mention of the Pirros. “My mother has a connection to all of that, if your historian is correct. She became Queen because of that man, Steeling, who led the expeditions to study Pirro culture. If Steeling really struck a bargain with my mother’s father, the one that made my mother Queen, then . . . perhaps my mother does have connections that would give her special knowledge about the contents of the sacred texts, including the secret volume.”
Something dark tried to stir deep within me, a thought that was so strange and unbelievable I refused to let it surface.
“Lord Toric,” the Priestess said. She leaned forward. “We need to dig into every known detail of your mother’s background. I’m not sure why it did not occur to me earlier. I will put my researchers on it at once.”
I nodded, but my brows drew together in trepidation. “Yes. And there is someone I need to speak with, whom I hope will shed more light on all of this. I will contact you soon.”
I rose and left the Priestess. With my guards on my heels, I hurried from the Temple toward the palace prison.
*
I’d put a team of royal law experts on the task of trying to free Maya’s original guide, Iris, on the basis that she possessed information important to the Return, but so far the Monitors had not budged on their “right and obligation” to imprison her for treachery.
To my great relief, my lawyers had at least managed to keep her from getting sentenced to the sacrificial fires. After the current and most likely fruitless round of appeals, the Priestess would have the opportunity to involve the Temple in the efforts to free Iris. The bureaucracy and the dragging pace of the proceedings was enough to drive a man mad.
Iris still had her implant, which meant she still could not speak of certain things. But I had not come to ask her about the knowledge that had landed her in prison. I had other inquiries to make.
She gave a little gasp when I appeared at her cell and rose to give a stiff curtsy. Her cheeks had a bit of color and her movements were much less pained than the last time I’d seen her.
I nodded my acknowledgement and gently waved her back to her cot. “Do make yourself comfortable and don’t tire yourself on my account.”
“My Lord, at times my mind does not keep hold of thoughts for more than a moment. While I’m thinking of it, I want to thank you for your efforts to help me,” she said.
“I only wish I could do more, and do it faster.”
Calvin dragged a visitor’s chair from nearby, and I positioned it in front of the narrow floor-to-ceiling window of Iris’s cell.
I couldn’t help but think of how I was likely her only visitor. If she had any friends from the harem or among the male Earthen servants, they’d probably stayed away for fear of being associated with a criminal.
She sat on the edge of her cot and pulled a thin blanket around her stooped shoulders. “How may I help you, my Lord?”
“Do not fear, I have no intention of delving into the events that put you here,” I said. “I need information about my father’s time, back when you were still active in the harem.”
“Oh?” She tipped her head slightly to the side, her brows lifted in curiosity.
“I know my mother was jealous of you and the other women,” I said. “I’d like to understand more about her behavior, her actions, anything you can remember that you saw or hea
rd related to my mother and the harem. I understand that the harem has its own lore and community, and I do not wish for you to betray that, but I’m seeking this information because it may be vital to Maya’s safety.”
I’d watched her face carefully as I’d talked, and she’d blanched and swallowed hard at the mention of my mother. Remembering Iris’s partial warning about a royal threatening Maya, I took Iris’s reaction as proof that the Priestess and I were on the right track.
Iris blinked several times and smoothed her hair back with one hand in a nervous gesture. Fear of setting off her implant was probably foremost in her mind, and I waited patiently, not wanting to rush her.
“I’m not sure if this is the information you’re seeking, but the first thing that came to my mind was a curious parallel between your father and you,” she said slowly.
“A parallel?”
“There was an Earthen girl, an Obligate. Here name was Raine. Lord Alec fell in love with her early in the Tournament. I’m sure he tried to hide his feelings, but it was clear to anyone who was really paying attention.”
My heart seemed to seize in my chest.
“The girl won the Tournament,” Iris continued. “After she joined the harem, Lord Alec sent for her and only her. She even accompanied him to a few parties. I’m not sure a day went by that they did not see each other.”
“How does this relate to my mother?” My question seemed more formality than anything else. I already suspected what Iris would say next.
“Before I explain your mother’s role in this story, I should mention that during Raine’s Tournament, the battles took a swing in Calisto’s favor. Nothing as huge as the victories in the past few months, but at that time it was significant. I’m no expert on Calistan history, but as I understood it had been many decades since there had been any real movement in the fight for Earthenfell.”
I nodded weakly, my mouth dry.
“As I’m sure you can imagine, Queen Stella was not at all pleased about Lord Alec’s affection for Raine,” Iris said. “When the girl turned up dead, he was inconsolable.”
“How did she die?”
“Officially, a blood clot in her brain. But there were whispers that she’d been poisoned.”
“I vaguely remember this,” I said. “It was after I returned to Calisto, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, not long after. Raine’s Tournament happened during your captivity, and she spent almost a year in the harem before she died.” She gave a short laugh and looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. “Odd that I can remember events from so many years ago with such vividness, but these days I’m hard pressed to recall what I ate for breakfast.”
“Was anyone ever implicated in Raine’s death?” I asked.
“Not officially.” Iris gave me a long, silent look, making it clear whom she suspected in Raine’s death. Then she squinted, as if making an effort to dig into the recesses of her memory. “Immediately after Raine’s death, the tide turned in the war. Calisto quickly lost significant ground.”
“I remember my father being very withdrawn for a time, and things going badly in the war,” I said, looking off to the side as I recalled thinking that my father’s mood had something to do with me, with his shame of me. I shifted my focus to Iris. “Going back to your idea of a parallel, I do see the similarities. However, there is one important difference. My mother has no reason to be jealous of my harem, or to hold any grudge against any Obligate woman. She is certainly not in competition with them for my attention.”
And yet, my mother had tried to poison Maya as she’d done to Raine.
Iris’s lips flattened into a thin line, and I knew she wished she could say more. But the Priestess and I would have to discover my mother’s motives without Iris’s help.
*
Official duties required me to divert my attention from Mother and attend another meeting at the Office of Royal Social Affairs. When I entered the office, I noted with deep gratitude that Queen Stella was not present. I wasn’t sure I could have faced her.
Despite her interest in my process of choosing a Calistan wife, I couldn’t help wondering if it would be difficult for her to give up her title of Queen. Since my father’s death and my ascent to the throne, hers was a legacy title only, but still, I knew she relished her position and influence. Once I married, Mother would be formally retired from royal obligations.
“Welcome, my Lord.” Yauna, the head of the Office of Royal Social Affairs, greeted me with a deep curtsy and ushered me into the conference room where I’d come two times before. “Today, you will narrow down the pool of women from twenty-five to ten. Up to this point, the information you’ve received came from the women themselves. At this stage, however, my office does more thorough checks into their character and background. To aid your decisions, my office is providing detailed reports on each woman that includes ancestry information, genetic profiles, and other important qualifications. Today, you will narrow the pool to ten women.”
I suppressed a groan. I couldn’t fake my way through as I had with the previous two eliminations. Before, I’d simply picked women at random to eliminate, not bothering to really read their profiles. But I couldn’t appear to be ignoring the reports that Yauna had prepared.
I forced myself to relax and settle down to read the lengthy documents. As I read, it occurred to me that if my father’s selection of a wife had been rigged, perhaps someone was similarly trying to pull strings to put a particular woman at my side as the new Queen. If so, my random eliminations of the women might have foiled those efforts, at least in part. Or perhaps not. Perhaps the candidates had been stacked heavily in favor of . . . something. But what?
“I’d like a list of the current candidates’ names sent to my head administrator,” I said to Yauna. “I will read through all of your reports today, but I may need a few hours to make my decisions, and I’ll need to refer to the list as I mull them over.”
Her brows rose, and she began to knead her fingers together.
“Don’t worry, I won’t throw the process off schedule.” I assured her. “I just want some time to allow all of this to sink in before I make my decisions. This isn’t the type of thing that should be rushed, don’t you agree?”
She looked apprehensive, but she finally nodded. “Of course, my Lord. I will have my assistant send the list right now.”
I went back to the reports, reading them with more interest. I planned to ask the Priestess to task some of her researchers with comparing the candidates’ profiles with my mother’s background. I wasn’t sure what I thought we might find, but my gut told me we’d be digging in the right spot.
Nothing obvious jumped out at me as I read through the profiles. I left the Office of Royal Social Affairs with another promise to Yauna that I would cull the list of women by sundown that evening.
Instead of going straight back to my quarters to contact High Priestess Lunaria, I decided to take a detour. I went up to the terrace garden where I’d brought Maya twice before. I needed a moment alone to contemplate everything Iris had told me. I’d absorbed her story as we’d talked but hadn’t truly given myself a chance to examine what it meant.
It would have been easier not to delve more deeply into the implications, but I knew from painful experience that my urge to avoid doing so was exactly the signal that meant I shouldn’t avoid it.
So, my father had been in love with his own Maya, an Earthen woman named Raine.
If my father’s feelings for Raine were as strong as mine for Maya, I could understand my mother’s jealousy. In fact, I felt lucky that I was not already married when Maya arrived on Calisto, for I surely would not have been able to hide my feelings from a wife.
From what Iris had helped me piece together about my father’s personal life and the turn in the war for Earthenfell, it seemed the stars had been setting him up as the Lord who would lead the Return.
What did that mean for me? Was I the consolation prize, the default leader for
the stars’ next attempt, given the chance to lead us back to Earthenfell only because my mother had foiled my father’s chance to do it first?
I slowly wandered the paths of the garden, my hands clasped behind my back. The late afternoon breeze stirred the leaves and fronds of the exquisite replica plants that surrounded me. I’d come to the garden to be alone with my thoughts, but suddenly I wished I had company. Despite the garden’s beauty, it felt empty there without Maya.
I found myself at the edge of the terrace, the wall where I’d stood with her. The footstool was still there. Leaning my forearms on the top of the wall, I looked out at the city below. The sky and the city were transitioning together from day to night. One sun had already set, and lights had begun to illuminate throughout the city in anticipation of the darkness to come.
Would my bid for Earthenfell end in heartbreak for myself and failure for my nation, as my father’s had?
I inhaled sharply and my stomach clenched as it suddenly occurred to me that I’d never thought of my father as a failure in any way. Not even when the Pirros kidnapped me. But if my understanding was correct, he’d had a chance at Earthenfell and he’d lost it.
Did he fail because of his love for Raine? Was that the lesson for me from his life, that I should cast my personal feelings aside and deny my feelings for Maya?
No, that couldn’t be it, for the Priestess had agreed that Maya was a critical part of the Return. We needed her to survive . . . but I wasn’t sure what it meant for me personally. For me and Maya.
I let out a long, weary breath, letting my head hang heavily. I did not want to fail.
I pushed away from the wall and went back to the lift where my guards waited. I couldn’t delay my duties any longer.
On my way back to my quarters, I contacted Camira through my earpiece. “Did you receive the list of women from the Office of Royal Social Affairs?”
“I did, my Lord.”
“Good. Could you connect with the office of the High Priestess? I need to speak with her if she’s available.”