Sorrows of Adoration

by Kimberly Chapman

  When Jarik burst into my bedchamber a few moments later, he found me curled up in a chair hugging my knees and sobbing pitifully. I hadn’t bothered to cover myself beyond what my folded limbs hid, and the split of the dress was no doubt revealing part of my backside. I didn’t care.

  He grabbed a sheet from the bed and put it over me gently. I didn’t move or even look at him but continued to cry into my knees. Jarik spoke soft little words of comfort as he wrapped the sheet around me and lifted me out of the chair. He carried me into my receiving room and sat on the couch, cradling me in his arms.

  He rocked me slowly, caressing my hair and whispering into my ear. “Hush, now, Aenna. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He kissed my forehead and held me tight. If Leiset was in the room, I was unaware of it. All I knew in that moment was the sweet comfort of Jarik’s strong arms around me. And still he whispered, “There now, Aenna. Don’t cry. Hush, hush …”

  When my sobs finally subsided, I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were so tender and loving that I silently cursed the Gods for being so cruel as to taunt me with them when Kurit’s eyes had held me with such disdain.

  Jarik lifted me and moved me so I was no longer in his lap but instead sitting on the couch beside him. As he did so, I caught sight of Leiset. Her face was very pale, and she wrung her hands in worry.

  I looked at her and said, “Kurit doesn’t even want me anymore.”

  Jarik’s face became pained. He embraced me again as I heard Leiset begin to weep for me. Then I heard her gasp. I lifted my head from Jarik’s shoulder to see Kurit standing in the open door to my bedchamber. He was glaring at Jarik’s back.

  “I came to make sure you were all right,” Kurit muttered, “but I see that has been taken care of, as usual.”

  Jarik turned to look at Kurit as he walked into the middle of the room. I had seen Jarik angry before, even furious, but the steely look of rage on his face in that moment was so terrible that it frightened me. They stared at each other in what looked like hatred. These men who had grown up as brothers and loved each other well now regarded each other in jealous wrath.

  Unable to stand their silent glares, I said, “Kurit, am I to understand that you condemned me cruelly for seeking your love, and now you condemn me for seeking the comfort of a friend?”

  Without taking his eyes off Jarik’s, Kurit spat, “A friend? Is that all this is? Friendship?”

  Jarik sprang to his feet and clenched his fists. “How dare you question Aenna’s loyalty!” he snarled. Kurit said nothing, but his eyes narrowed in accusation.

  Like a flash of lightning, Jarik’s arm reached out and grabbed Kurit by the back collar of his shirt. Caught completely off guard, Kurit was unable to prevent his larger cousin from dragging him off his feet. As Kurit stumbled, Jarik caught another part of his shirt with his other hand and lifted him from the ground. Jarik started carting him through my bedchamber to Kurit’s own.

  I rose and chased after them, crying out for Jarik to stop. “No!” I cried. “Jarik, don’t! He’s half mad from his drunkenness. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Don’t hurt him!”

  Jarik paused in the doorway between the bedchambers, standing right in the puddle of alcohol. Kurit wriggled in the big warrior’s grasp but could not escape. “I shall not hurt him, Aenna, because it would break your heart,” Jarik said in a tone that was both angry and sad. “But this has gone on long enough. I promise not to harm him. Go, let me remind this wretch of his wedding vows and how to properly address a lady.”

  Jarik hauled Kurit to a chair and dumped him in it, his boots crunching bits of broken glass along the way. He looked at me with great sorrow and closed the door.

  I clutched the sheet around myself and went back out to the receiving room. I fell onto the couch there and began sobbing anew, feeling completely helpless. Leiset sat with me, and we held each other, crying.

  After nearly an hour, Leiset and I sat silently in each other’s arms, tear stains on our cheeks but no more to fall. We could hear nothing of what was occurring next door, for which I was thankful. Had Jarik been thrashing Kurit as I know he wanted to, there would have been a great deal of noise. Then Jarik was back in the room. I didn’t look at him. I just sat shivering in the sheet, feeling like a lost child.

  Leiset slipped out of our embrace, rose to allow Jarik to sit beside me, and then left the room. I still couldn’t look at Jarik. He put his hand on my head and caressed my hair.

  “Aenna,” he said softly, “I didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t so much as touch him once I closed that door.” He put his other hand under my chin and turned my head to face him. “All I did was tell him bluntly that he’s behaving abominably. I reminded him of honour, of duty, and even recited his wedding vows back to him. I made no threat nor curse. As furious as I am, I would not do anything to him that would cause you pain or worry.” He rubbed his thumbs against the streaks of my tears.

  “So what am I to do now?” I asked. My throat was so sore from crying that the words came out as a harsh whisper.

  “Come,” he said and pulled me into a loving embrace. His strong hands were comforting on my back. “He won’t see you again tonight. I told him not to. I sent him to go sleep in a guest room and told Gilrin to fetch some maids to clean up the mess of glass and drink. Your room reeks of it as well. I’ll carry you to another bed anywhere else in the palace, if you like.”

  I shook my head. “It won’t take long to clean up the spill on my floor, and the smell will be there for days, so I may as well get used to it.”

  He placed a tender kiss on my forehead and said, “It’s going to get better, Aenna. I think I got through to him this time. And you know that I am always here for you. You should try to sleep now. Your poor face is lined with fatigue. But if you cannot sleep and you need me to sit with you or talk to you or hold you or anything else, you need only summon me and I’ll be here in a moment.” He forced a tired smile and said, “I’ll even come sing you a lullaby if that’s what you need.”

  I smiled sadly at him. “You’re very good to me. Thank you.”

  “I care very much about you, Aenna. Not just because I’m your Champion.” My heart fluttered as I suspected he was about to admit the love I knew he had for me. Instead, he said, “I care for you because you are my Queen, you are the wife of my cousin, and most of all because you are my dear friend. Promise me that you’ll summon me if you need me.”

  I nodded. He offered to carry me to my bed, but I said I had to change into a more appropriate nightdress. He nodded, held me again, and quietly left.

  I tossed and turned all night in alternating fits of sadness and anger. A thousand potential conversations and lonely daydreams cluttered my mind. As a result, I was in a particularly foul temper when Kurit found Jarik and me the next morning in my workroom. He asked to speak with me alone. Jarik eyed him warily, but I agreed. Jarik left the room.

  Kurit watched him go and then said, “He protects you well.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  Kurit ran his hands through his hair and sighed as he sat down across from me. “It’s rather pathetic that he has to protect you from me.” I said nothing, so he continued. “Aenna, the things I said to you last night were cruel and inexcusable. I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t believe him. I suspected that he wanted to be sorry, but I could not believe that he actually was. “Where does this end?” I asked. “You lash out at me and then come to apologize. When will your apologies actually hold meaning?”

  He looked at me with obvious guilt on his face and said, “This one does.”

  “For how long, Kurit? Until the next time you’re angry? Until the next time your mother irritates you? Until the next time you’re pressured for some other reason?”

  He sighed again. “What do you want of me, Aenna?”

  I smacked my open hand on the desk. It hurt, and I was sorry for having done it but refused to let him see that. “I want my husband back
!” I said through clenched teeth. I managed to compose myself enough to add, in a gentler tone, “I want the man who held me and loved me before I was abducted. I want you to be that man again.”

  He no longer looked sorrowful. Bitterly, he said, “People change, Aenna.”

  I felt cold inside and made sure he heard that in my voice. “Yes, well, you just keep on pushing me away, then. Perhaps I’ll make changes of my own.”

  His face grew dark. “Are you threatening to leave me?”

  “That would be difficult since you’ve already left me. You may be here in body, but your soul is drowned somewhere so far inside you that I can’t see it. I meant that I’m going to stop fighting to hold onto you. I love you, Kurit. You just continue stomping angrily on that, and we’ll see what happens.”

  “I can’t understand why you would still love me,” he moped.

  I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to play your games of self-pity, so you can stop right there. I love you, Kurit. I shall always love you. But if you don’t love me anymore, at least have the decency to tell me that I might stop waiting for you to return my affections.”

  “And that’s your favourite game, you know,” he spat. “You accuse me constantly of not loving you just so I’ll have to say it.” He rose angrily from his seat and began to pace about the room.

  “It shouldn’t be something you say because you feel you have to!”

  “You should know that I love you. I shouldn’t have to tell you all the time.”

  I closed my eyes and laughed a bitter, sad laugh. “I’m not saying you have to tell me so all the time. But you never say it unless you’re apologizing for something.”

  “That’s because you always have me apologizing.”

  My tone became very sarcastic. “Oh, fine. I am forcing you to have to apologize. I lead you by your little hand and make you do all these things and move your lips for you to say those nasty, cruel things that you do.”

  “Look,” he shouted, “I’ve said I’m sorry for how I behaved last night. And I am. But I’m not going to stand here while you mock me.”

  “Then go, Kurit,” I said, pointing to the door. “Your mother undoubtedly awaits you to speak more words against me. Then come back when you’re ready to lash out at someone. Your target shall be sitting right here as I always have been.”

  He kicked the chair and shouted out a curse and then stormed out.

  Moments later, Jarik tentatively opened the door. “May I come in?” he asked.

  I nodded. When he had closed the door behind him he said, “That did not go well, did it?” When I didn’t answer, he swore and sighed. “Curse it, Aenna, I honestly thought he’d apologize.”

  “He did. I just wasn’t willing to accept another meaningless apology.” I looked at Jarik’s sad face and said, “I’m glad you spoke to him last night, but it didn’t help. I don’t imagine anything will at this point.”

  “Tell me what I can do to help you,” he said.

  “At the moment, nothing. I want to get some things done this morning, and I will push him out of my mind as I do so. Then I shall spend the afternoon with my son and let him cheer me. If you wish, you can join us then. Raelik likes it when you hold him up high. You’re the tallest person he knows.” I smiled at the thought.

  “I shall await you then. I’ll be right out here in the Great Hall.”

  I nodded. “I shall find you there when I am ready to go to the nursery.”

  He forced a little smile and left.

  Chapter 18

  KURIT AND I AVOIDED each other for the rest of the winter, which meant he also avoided being near his son. When he did grace us with his presence, he was surly and morose.

  When we celebrated Raelik’s third birthday, Kurit sat at the back of the room, annoyed that he hadn’t had a drink all day. Jarik stood near him.

  I chased my little boy around the parlour as he ran with ribbons trailing from his sweet little hands. I caught him up in my arms and tickled his tummy, making him giggle in delight.

  When I set Raelik back on the ground with the ribbons tangled in his fingers, he turned to face his father. Kurit neither beckoned to nor smiled at the boy, so I was not surprised when Raelik ran to Jarik to untangle the ribbons. Kurit was, however, quite taken aback as Jarik scooped up the giggling child and began to pull the ribbons away playfully.

  Thankfully, Raelik was so entertained by Jarik’s teasing and games that he did not see his father rise and storm from the room. Jarik glanced at me to let me know that he had noticed Kurit’s abrupt exit but remained intent on keeping my son entertained.

  Kasha rose silently and left as well, which didn’t bother me in the least. I don’t imagine she had spoken more than ten words to me since Tarken’s death. I overheard her belittling me still, but because I avoided her she rarely had the chance to do so to my own face.

  I refused to let the sullen duo ruin Raelik’s day. I laughed and played with my precious boy and my dear Jarik for the remainder of the afternoon.

  In the evening, Kurit came to my rooms, ready to fight. I took a deep breath to calm myself, knowing that losing my temper with this man would accomplish nothing.

  “Well, this is just splendid,” he began. His words were slightly slurred, and I knew he was quite drunk. “You’ve got my people worshipping you, saying prayers at your statue, and praising you as a living Goddess. You’ve got my cousin and best friend despising me, and now you’ve got my son choosing Jarik over me. How else would you like to destroy me?”

  “I thought perhaps I’d take your armies to Wusul and add a province or two to Keshaerlan. Then I shall change the direction of the Great Kal just to spite you,” I said coldly.

  “Oh, you’re very funny, Aenna. I’ll fetch you a set of jester’s toys, and you can juggle them whilst standing on your head at the next Council meeting.”

  “If that’s what Your Majesty wishes,” I said with a voice dripping forced sweetness as I rose briefly to curtsey.

  His eyes narrowed in fury. “I won’t let that overgrown Champion of yours steal my son,” he growled.

  It was such a ridiculous accusation that I could not help but burst into laughter. A dangerous look entered his eye, but I could not help myself. “Kurit, you fool,” I said, laughing, “Jarik doesn’t want to steal Raelik! We’d all be delighted if you’d spend more time with him. He loves his father, and you don’t care!” I stopped laughing at my last words.

  The anger left Kurit’s face and was replaced by his more typical sadness. That pained look always made me want to hold him, but I was long past the point where I would let myself do so. I had learned to steel myself against his cycle of anger and sorrow.

  He ran his hands through his hair as he always did when upset. “I do care. Seeing him choose Jarik over me today …” He sighed. “That cousin of mine wins over me too often. He is already your preference. I don’t want him to become Raelik’s as well.”

  “Jarik is not my preference,” I retorted. “I wish every day and night that you would be as you were, that I might come to you for friendship and comfort rather than relying on him. And Raelik only knows what he sees, Kurit. He sees Jarik all the time, always being playful and affectionate. He rarely sees you, and when he does you’re usually in a foul temper. If you were three years old, which man would you choose to play with?”

  He staggered to a chair and dropped himself into it awkwardly. He stared at the floor, eyes distant and glazed. Then he sighed, and again I had to resist comforting him.

  “Kurit,” I said, keeping my voice level, “if you wish to catch the attention of your son, you need only spend time with him. And if you feel you cannot do so because you do not wish to be near me, then I shall set aside time when I am not with him.”

  He put his head in his hands, and I wondered if he was weeping. He had been known to isolate himself in his room or a tower and cry when drunk. I had heard him myself on more than one occasion, yet when I had tried
to console him later he had been furious with me for knowing of his weak moments.

  “I want to spend time with both of you,” he whispered. “I want to, but I can’t.”

  I sighed, knowing this would be one of those heart-wrenching, cryptic conversations in which he’d try both to tell me why he had become this miserable shell of a man and at the same time to withhold from me those secrets.

  “Why can’t you, Kurit?”

  He mumbled slurred words into his hand, and when I asked him to repeat them he just sat in silence.

  “Kurit, I’m not going to sit here while you tease me with letting me understand you, only to withdraw from me a moment later. It’s too hard on me. But I will say this: the warmer weather has been making me want to take Raelik into the garden to play. I’ve been waiting only for the ground to dry some more, for I don’t want him rolling about in that much wet mud. No doubt we’ll start going out there regularly soon. If you wish, I will let you know when we’re going out to play, and you can join us. Raelik would be delighted if you’d come and play with him. He loves his father very much.” I paused before my next words, considering the wisdom of saying them. I decided I wanted to say them, wise or not. “And I love you and miss you as well.”

  He stood up suddenly, and I thought he was angry. He hurried to the door as though I had threatened him somehow. He paused, his hand on the knob, and without looking at me said, “I want to join you. Tell me when you are going to the garden with him.” Then he opened the door and left.

  So, when spring came, Kurit, Raelik, and I would go out to the gardens frequently, often joined by Lyenta. At first, I could tell Kurit was making a concerted effort to remain mostly sober and to be pleasant. Fortunately, however, I did not allow this short-lived trend to inspire me to thoughts of a healed marriage. He soon became increasingly irritable when invited out to join us, and I suspected it was because we were cutting into his carefully balanced schedule of drunkenness.