by Anya Josephs
“I will.”
“Good.” He releases me at once, suddenly bored of this, and says, “You can go then, child.”
I don’t pull away at once. Part of me hopes I can hide how terrified I am, though I know that he must suspect. Lord Ricard is still watching me, smiling that wide, handsome smile that does not quite meet his eyes. The song slides to an end, and he bows. “Thank you for the dance, Mistress Jeni.”
“Thank you, my lord,” I stammer, and turn away, running as fast as my tight gown will allow me to until I reach Aunt Mae’s side.
She takes one look at my pale face and demands, “What on all Four Corners of Gaia is the matter?”
“I—I don’t know—I have to tell Sisi. I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me? What on Earth is there that you can’t tell me?”
I shake my head. “It’s something. It’s—I’m not… oh, Auntie.” I throw my arms around her waist, grateful to feel the same warm touch that I always have as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me back. For a moment, the brilliance of the ball, the sparkling colors and bright lights and cacophonous noise all fade away and everything is all right.
“Child? What is it? Talk to me, little Jeni. You know you can tell me. You can tell me whatever it is that ails your dear heart. I just need to know—”
“I hate this place,” I whisper. “I hate this place. Auntie, I want to go home.”
She leans down and kisses my forehead. “Oh, child,” she murmurs. Then, more quietly, she asks, “Sweet Gaia, what have we done?”
The music plays on, bright and beautiful. My beloved cousin, the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom, dances with the King of all the Earth. And I begin to weep.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, I head into the sitting room, still sleepy-eyed and only half-awake after a long night spent tossing and turning with worry. Exhausted and desperate for a cup of tea, I emerge dressed only in the shift I’d slept in, which would be fine were I not immediately greeted with the sight of the King of All the Earth sitting on the couch next to my cousin.
I stumble backward, curtsying. “Your Majesty. Forgive me, I didn’t expect—excuse me…”
The King is here, and I’m in my undergarments. I can’t get out of the room fast enough.
Yet he just looks over the back of the couch and smiles warmly at me. “Jena. It’s nice to see you again. Sigranna was just telling me about her theory on the time before the First King and Queen reigned over the Earth. It’s very interesting. Have you heard about this?”
I notice that he didn’t call Sisi by her title, and I wonder if that’s because he doesn’t have to adhere to such formalities in his position, because he listened when Sisi told him not to, or just because he doesn’t have his brother’s courtly manners. I suppose either way it comes down to the same thing: the King can do whatever he pleases. I do another small curtsy and say, “Yes, Your Majesty. My cousin has shared it with me at great length—”
“Oh, please.” He waves his hand. “I really hope you won’t do all of that. It makes me uncomfortable, all the bowing and titling and what have you. My friends call me Lio, and I hope that you and I will come to be very good friends, especially since you and Sigranna are like two peas in a pod.”
I laugh, surprised at this homely metaphor. It sounds more like something Uncle Willem would say than the King of All the Earth would. “Lio, then,” I say, and it’s strange, but no stranger than just standing in front of a King in my shift and nothing else.
“Come, sit with us! And have some breakfast, I’m having a tray brought up and they always bring far more food than any reasonable person could consume.” He blinks, seeming to notice my state of undress for the first time. “Of course, if you need a moment—”
“Yes, I’ll… well, I’ll be right back,” I interrupt.
Sisi meets my eyes as I rush out of the room. She raises an eyebrow and grins at me. I stick my tongue out at her.
In my room, with the door safely closed, I ring for the maid. When she arrives, she’s pale-faced and shaking a little, and she whispers, “His Majesty the King is here.”
Well, I can top that. “I know. And I walked out there, dressed like this, before I realized he was.”
“He said good morning to me.” She sounds so horrified at the idea that she doesn’t even register what I’ve said.
“Yes. He’s rather odd, for a King,” I observe.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that!” she hurries to add, curtailing any further criticism. He is, after all, the King, and thus apparently free to act as strangely as he likes.
Still fretting, she helps me into one of the plainer gowns that has been made for me here, a simple bright blue shift with long sleeves and flowers embroidered around the neckline. It’s not quite as simple as my worn homespun, but at least—unlike my gown from last night—I can move around in it.
The maid is still fluttering around nervously. “Are you sure you don’t want to have something a little bit, well, nicer? I could do your hair up if you’d like—”
I shake my head. “I’m all right, thank you. I think this will suit.”
“But the King is out there—”
“I think it’ll be all right.” I don’t want to be dizzy from corsetry while also trying to act normal in front of the King himself, and somehow I imagine he won’t care, or indeed notice, what I’m wearing.
The maid curtsies and leaves, leaving me to open the door and join my cousin alongside the King.
Balion has pulled up a chair for me. For the first time, I notice that he’s actually not the only stranger sitting in our parlor. To be exact, his bodyguard, whom I assume is a man from his stature, is standing in the corner, silent and unmoving. The eerie sight of his entirely black outfit catches me a bit off guard; even his face is obstructed by a dark cloth. I suppose I’d known about the royal guards, one of the Three Powers of the Kingdom, but to actually see one of the legendary warriors who devote their lives to serving the royal family is something else entirely.
The King seems not to notice, though, and has made himself quite comfortable. “Excellent timing, Jena! Breakfast has just arrived.” He offers me a cup of tea and asks how I take it.
“Um, I guess I don’t know? I don’t drink much tea at home.” In the palace I’ve gotten fond of stirring so much sugar into my cup that I can barely stir it, but I’m rather embarrassed to say as much in front of the King, who presumably has more refined tastes.
“We’re poor, you see,” Sisi chimes in with a smirk.
“Too poor for tea?” he says, sounding shocked, but he covers for himself quickly. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. That’s just one of my faults, I suppose. And I have so many. I’ll put some milk and sugar in there for you. It makes it easier to get used to the taste.”
He hands me the cup and saucer, and a little scone with jam on it. I take it from his hands, feeling charmed. He doesn't seem like an all-powerful ruler, chosen by the hand of Gaia to protect Her children’s future. He just seems rather like a nice man.
The kind of man I could imagine making Sisi quite happy. His gentleness could soften her a bit, help her calm herself from the rage that is always boiling in her heart. He could take care of her in the luxury she was born to, and yet would try to understand where she grew up and where she came from.
I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thought. I don’t want to waste my time imagining something that, in all likelihood, will never happen. The best I should hope for is that whatever is happening between them is enough to prevent Sisi from getting involved any further with Lord Ricard. Maybe, if we’re fortunate, the King will send Sisi safely back home and things can return to normal. Maybe his sudden interest in her will be enough to protect Mali and the rest of our family from Ricard’s spite. It wouldn’t be the better life I’d hoped for us to find when we first set off on this journey, but it’s better than losing everything, than losing Sisi to a man who
only wants to use her for his own selfish ends.
I have to remind myself of that several times throughout the morning. It’s a good thing if Sisi is happy with the King. Something fragile and lovely seems to be growing between them as they sip their tea and talk.
Well, Sisi is talking. The King just listens. Sisi is expounding on her idea that the First King and Queen were only ordinary people, no different than any of us, and that the beings we call the adirim and pahyat were in the Kingdom long before they were, living in peace and harmony with civilizations of their own, not depending on humans to create it as our legends maintain. “We’re less important than we think we are,” she concludes.
“You mean I’m less important than I think I am,” he interjects, but he’s smiling, and he sounds interested rather than angry. “I’m the one whose authority stems from the understanding, such as it is, that humans are the rightful rulers of the go’im and that I’m the rightful ruler of the humans. If my great-whatever grandparents usurped their power, if it came from military might and not from the will of Gaia, then my rule is a false one.”
“I don’t think we need to go that far. The Kingdom is yours now, and was by right of inheritance as far back as any of us can trace. If we take it back far enough, we honestly don’t know where it came from. We tell ourselves that it came from the hand of the Goddess Herself, but we don’t have any proof of that—nor do we have any proof that it shouldn’t be yours,” Sisi replies.
“It certainly would be good for those of us who must rule to keep such possibilities in mind. It is too easy to let power go to your head, if you believe you were born to it and that it is yours by divine right.”
Sisi looks impressed that he’s taking her so seriously. Sisi very rarely looks impressed.
And it isn’t just that—the King agrees with most of her points, nodding along as she talks, and occasionally bringing up another book he’s read that he thinks she’ll find interesting. I can’t follow much of the conversation, but it’s nice to watch Sisi drawing closer to him with everything he says, smiling at his points, fascinated by his ideas.
It’s an enjoyable morning, maybe the first such I’ve had here in the palace.
And there are many more like it. In fact, I soon tell the maid to please plan on meeting me inside my room in the morning in order to avoid any more occasions where I walk out in my underclothes and find the King there.
The poor maid is the only one who isn’t enjoying the presence of our new visitor. In fact, she seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the stress of having to walk past him to begin her morning duties.
Of course, I’m not invited along every time that Sisi and the King—Lio—spend time together. Aunt Mae and I always join them for breakfast in our chambers, but the two of them usually head out for a long walk afterward. The first day, Aunt Mae insists on joining them, but even her considerable resolve cannot stand up in the face of Sisi’s most pleading smile and the King’s repeated requests. Sisi argues that they won’t really be alone, since the King’s bodyguard will be at their side the entire time, and Aunt Mae extracts a solemn promise from both of them that they will be on their most polite behavior if they’re permitted to go for a walk alone. Apparently, she’s quite gotten over any fear she may have had upon first meeting the King, for her threats are dire, creative, and extensive.
King or no King, Balion doesn’t seem inclined to risk attracting the considerable wrath of my Aunt Mae, so he makes the required promises. They’re gone for the entire morning, missing luncheon entirely and not returning until the sun has started to set in the winter sky. The King walks Sisi back to the door of our suite, both of them giggling over some shared jest. They cling on to each other’s hands, and the King even dares to sneak a quick kiss to Sisi’s cheek as he takes his leave.
Sisi’s eyes are glowing with excitement as she closes the door behind herself.
“Well? Did you have a nice time?” I tease.
“Oh, Jena.” She takes both my hands in hers and swings me around in a circle, then pulls me into an embrace.
“Still thinking that nothing can ever come of it?”
She lets herself smile. “I’m thinking that I shall wait and see.”
That, at least, is an improvement over her dull certainty that she could do nothing to stand up to Lord Ricard. Her newfound hope gives me some, too.
At first, we hear nothing more of Ricard. I do my best to put him out of my mind, along with the threats he’s made against our family, but the worries creep in, especially at night. I don’t even know if anyone would tell us, even if something terrible were to happen. We haven’t received any letters from home, so there’s every possibility that a tragedy has already taken place. Then again, it could just be that Jorj and my father are the only two who can read or write, and that my father doesn’t judge the value of a letter to be worth what it will cost to send one to the palace.
Sisi seems to be having far more luck than I am keeping Lord Ricard from her mind. She’s usually busy with the King as of late, and when I see her, she’s almost glowing with happiness. A week after the ball, we’re invited to move our things from Lord Ricard’s wing of the palace to the King’s. If anything, these rooms are grander, but we hardly spend any time in them. The King is always inviting us to dinners, to walk in the palace’s beautiful gardens, and finally, to see the many beauties of the City itself.
The threat of Sisi being forced into anything by Lord Ricard starts to fade away, like a nightmare does in the light of day. Sisi doesn’t mention the man at all for nearly a month, as the days begin to grow longer and some of the chill fades from the air. That’s why I’m so shocked when she asks Aunt Mae and I to come with her to pay a call on Lord Ricard. Still, of course, I agree. I certainly wouldn’t send her there alone, though I don’t know what I imagine I can do to protect her.
She sends a maid to his chambers with her invitation, and gets a response at once: yes, he’ll meet her in the King’s private parlor to take tea with her. We dress formally for the occasion, and the kitchen brings up delicacies of all sorts, though my stomach is too fluttery with nerves for me to touch the food.
Lord Ricard arrives promptly. It’s interesting, now that I’ve gotten to know the King a little better, to consider how much Lord Ricard resembles his brother. They have almost the same attractive features, the same thick brown hair, the same rich hazel eyes, but the King almost always has a peaceful and pleasant expression, and Lord Ricard’s malice—especially after the threats he’s made against my family—seems to me to shine forth from the very set of his face, before he even speaks.
He bows low in greeting to each of us, as effortlessly polite as his brother is careless about such things. “My lady Sisi. Madam Mae. Mistress Jeni.”
“My lord. Won’t you sit?”
“I’m not sure that would be advisable.”
Sisi just nods. “Very well. I wish to return some items to you.” She holds up a bundle of boxes. “I am afraid I cannot keep these gifts you so generously gave me, my lord.”
“Do they not please you?” he asks, holding very still.
“Each piece is lovely, and I thank you for your kindness in giving them to me. But I must be blunt with you, Lord Ricard. I fear cannot accept them in the spirit they were meant. I cannot take a present from one man and then be wooed by his brother.”
For a second, something flashes in Lord Ricard’s eyes, something bright and more than a little frightening. However, when he speaks, he says only, “Is that the way of things, then? Between you and His Majesty?”
“Indeed, my lord.”
“I wish you both every happiness. You may keep the jewels, or throw them into the privy, or whatever you will. I have no need of them. I beg your leave, my la—Lady Sisi.”
Without another word, and without waiting for Sisi to say farewell, he turns and leaves the room. Sisi is sitting in front of the untouched tea tray. “Well, that went rather better than I’d expected.”
“He was so rude!” Aunt Mae exclaims, and then clasps her hands over her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. But it’s true!”
“But he didn’t make any threats, or try to have us killed, or anything, so we’re going to call that a win,” Sisi says, her tone final. “Besides, I do believe I may have hurt his feelings.”
“As if he has any,” I scoff.
Sisi gives me a dark look, which silences me, as was no doubt her intention. “Now. Let’s call the maids in. I think they may appreciate Lord Ricard’s gifts much more than I do.”
And that may more than make up for the anxiety the King’s frequent visits have caused them, for there are enough jewels for every one of them to leave wearing a small, sparkling fortune and a glowing smile.
I wait until Sisi isn’t looking and pocket a handful of the jeweled pins I put in her hair on the night of the ball. It’s not like the maids, who all wear their hair cropped sensibly short, have any need for them, and I want insurance that a return home need not mean a return to poverty.
Just in case.
Chapter Eighteen
A few weeks later, spring dawns beautiful and bright, the warmer and longer days now gracing the Earth. As the weather warms, King Balion asks us to join him as his guests for the Grand Market.
Since the earliest history of the Kingdom, the King himself has announced the opening of the Grand Market on the first day of spring. In the old days, it was a religious festival, a time to thank the Goddess for the many gifts She brings forth from the Earth. Members of all different peoples would travel from every Corner of the Earth, bearing gems and gold from the far North, spices from the East, and flowers and teas from the South.
Now, of course, all of the attendees are human, not a single member of the other go’im in sight. And because the High Road that leads across the Kingdom is in disrepair, that means few want to actually journey from far away to the Capital. Still, I’m eager to explore what wonders remain. And, much to my delight, the King has invited all three of us as his personal guests, our first expedition outside the palace walls since we arrived.