The two men laughed still harder. Jules ground his teeth.
It was going to be a long night.
Ghia
Ghia returned to the room she shared with Yarrow, absolutely ecstatic.
Her horse was gorgeous. A beautiful pinto mare, with a brilliant star on her head, even-tempered and already friends with Suki, to judge from the way the two girls had carried on. She hoped Amora would put in a good word for her with Suki, who was being quite possessive of Jules whenever Ghia was around. Ghia's horse was a bit smaller than Suki, but then Jules' mare was a war horse. She was supposed to be huge. Amora, however, was just the right size for Ghia, and she already had all the trappings a horse would need for a ride to Harbourtown.
She couldn't believe Jules had done something so wonderful for her. Nevermind it was her birthday and they friends -- a horse like Amora was an amazing gift, and something Ghia never would have expected in an age. She must have been expensive, too. Why would Jules spend so much on me?
After seeing her horse she'd come straight back to her room. Yarrow was scolding the boys, she guessed, for the bellica was not in the taproom or their room, and besides -- she'd rather wait until tomorrow to talk to Jules again. She didn't know what had possessed her to kiss him -- but she'd enjoyed it far too much. Her stomach was still doing flip-flops and her lips were still tingling.
What would it feel like really to kiss him? Or, rather, to let him kiss her? She was sure he had much more experience in those matters than she did.
For some reason Ghia'd never had an interest in sex. In her late teens, when other girls her age had been having their experiences, either with lovers or at charnel houses, Ghia had preferred to work, or read, or sew. Sex had never really crossed her mind as something interesting or even worth the time to investigate.
Until Midwinter night, at the tavern, when she'd undressed Jules. She blushed anew at the thought.
Why should that have made a difference? She was a healer -- she knew what a naked body looked like, male or female or in between. The sight of a naked person in the hospitalis, patient in the sick room or healer in the showers, was a common occurrence that had never turned on that particular switch in her.
Was it just because they weren't in a work context? Or was it because it was Jules, whom she'd never seen naked before?
She shook her head. Either way it doesn't matter, girl -- you're just friends and that's the way it has to stay. No one can afford love nowadays.
Sighing, she sat down on her bed and pulled her bag over to her. She'd waited in anticipation long enough. It was time to open her aunt's gift. She pulled out the small package and carefully removed the cloth and string that wrapped it, placing the fabric away in her bag as a scrap for sewing. It was a small jewelry box. Her heart beating faster in excitement, she pulled off the top.
There was a folded piece of paper inside, and under that a necklace, rather old. The pendant was small and tarnished, with a strange drawing on it, detailed and colourful, but quite simple. She picked it up and turned it over to see another drawing, similar in style but different in content. She frowned. Crests? Of what?
Figuring the paper might have a clue, she unfolded it carefully to find a lengthy letter in her aunt's neat handwriting.
Dearest Ghia,
I would have told you this in person, but a dream told me you wouldn't be here for your birthday, so I decided it would be best to give it to you in writing instead.
I'm not sure exactly where to begin, so I will just have out with it and hope it is not too abrupt for you. Your foster-mother and I were not entirely truthful with you when we said we didn't know where you came from. This necklace was on you when you were left on our doorstep on New Year's in 4001. It has two family crests on it -- one, we do not know, but the one with the sun over the mountain and sword is the Lihin crest, sovereign rulers of Atton. We hope you can find out about the second one yourself.
Ghia felt the tears prick her eyes, and she almost put the letter down, too upset to continue. She forced herself to go on, knowing she needed to read the rest of the letter.
We would have told you, darling, but we were too scared to do so. We were afraid you'd leave us in search of your real parents, and we loved you too much to bear that thought. However, after careful discussion Helene and I decided it was time you knew the truth of your origins. You are of noble birth, Ghia -- a scion of the Lihin line.
We hope you do not hate us for not telling you sooner, dearest girl. You asked us once, long ago, about your origins, and when we told you we didn't know, you seemed fine with that and never asked for more. Your apparent disinterest made it easy for us to justify hiding the truth from you for so long.
We're sorry, darling, and hope you can forgive us in time.
We hope your birthday is wonderful otherwise, and will see you upon your return.
All my love,
Aunt Kasandra.
Ghia closed her eyes and crushed the letter to her chest, feeling tears run down her cheeks.
Goddess. She never would have imagined such about her past. About her parents. And for her foster family not to tell her? How could they? Anger flooded her, but it was short lived. They'd thought they were doing the right thing. Hadn't Ghia herself decided she had no wish to know of her past, for her family was fine the way it was?
Well, sort of. She was still waffling on that. It seemed the Goddesses wished her to know regardless of her own wishes.
Lihin. She was of the family of Lihin. She was royalty. But her parents had not wanted her.
Was she then the child of a scandal, abandoned to hush things up?
No, that didn't fit. She'd been a year old when Helene and Kasandra had found her. She would have been given away much earlier than that if her birth were of doubtful origin. There was no doubt in her mind she was abandoned because of her powers.
Why had they not kept her and simply hidden her powers? A royal family would have had no problem finding training for her, rare as powers such as hers were. They only had to ask the Donacella-Voto family, after all -- every royal family knew of that family's vow.
I guess this means I'm Yarrow's cousin, she thought suddenly. That would explain why our hair is so similar.
It had to be her father who was a Lihin, for Lady Lihin had had only two sons -- twins, Marcus and Terence. In 3989 Marcus had been chosen by Zameera at her Birthright Ceremony, and became the royal twins' acknowledged father. Personally, Ghia had doubts he was really Zardria's father, for the two women were so unalike. More likely Zardria was the spawn of Lord Exsil Vis, the late Queen's second Consort. It was more than possible for twins to have different fathers.
Marcus couldn't be Ghia's father. He'd died soon after being chosen as Consort, over ten years before Ghia's birth. Terence had to be her sire. She did not know much about him, except he'd died just under two decades ago. Lady Lihin was now the last of the Lihin line, except Yarrow--and now her. Unless this necklace was a hoax, Ghia was Lady Lihin's granddaughter.
Would the woman welcome her, she wondered, if she went to claim her birthright? Or would she be cast out, a peasant trying to rise above her station?
She supposed it depended on who her mother was, and whether the woman had been husband or mistress to Terence Lihin. She had no idea where to begin in the search for her mother's identity.
Wait. No, there was something -- Charity, that drunken lout Trevor had called her. Charity. Then his friend had said that Charity had left for Atton...over twenty years ago. And Ghia looked just like Charity. Except the hair.
Looked as if her mother had been a barwench from Mudflat and, obviously, mistress to Lihin, for royalty wed royalty and bedded whatever moved. How wonderfully scandalous!
She looked at the necklace she held in her fist. There was the Lihin crest, a yellow sun over a red mountain, with a sword lying horizontally underneath the likeness of Mt. Impri. She turned it over to examine the other crest.
Like the Lihin crest, it was inc
redibly detailed despite its small size. An island, with a blood red rose growing out of it, and a dagger of thorns pointing into the earth. It baffled her. She'd never seen anything like it in her studies and had no idea what it meant.
Was it some old royal line no one remembered? Was Charity of an ancient line of ladies or duchesses? Or was she just a wench giving herself airs?
Oh, it was useless! Ghia wanted to scream in frustration. She was just running circles in her mind and had no idea where to get the answers she needed. It was giving her a terrible headache.
Carefully, she folded the now crumpled letter back and placed it in her bag. The necklace she put on, hoping someone somewhere would have some answers for her.
The door opened then, and Ghia jumped in panic. When she saw Yarrow, she calmed down. Not by much.
She had the feeling -- and by feeling she meant blaring mental noise -- that Yarrow didn't like her. Or hadn't liked her and was only now starting to warm up to her.
She supposed she seemed weak to the bellica. In some ways, she was. Like this stupid crying thing I do all the damned time.
Yarrow sighed and unbuckled her belt, tossing her sword by her bed. She plopped down onto the mattress and began to remove both her boots. When her feet were free, she stretched them out languorously, sighing happily. It was only then she looked up at Ghia, and frowned.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and Ghia realised her tears must be obvious.
Hastily Ghia wiped her face and shrugged. "Oh, it's silly. My aunt's gift was...very touching."
Yarrow looked confused a moment, then her face cleared. "Oh, birthday. Happy one, by the way. Was her gift better than what Jules got you?" she asked, a wry smile on her face.
Ghia laughed. "No. That's a tough act to follow. It was just...very enlightening." She fell silent, unable to think of anything else to say about it.
Yarrow raised her eyebrows. "May I see it?"
Seeing no reason why not, Ghia lifted the necklace up for the bellica to see.
Yarrow got up from her bed and took the pendant in her hand carefully, inspecting it closely. She turned it over, looked at the other side, and gave it back to Ghia. "Nice piece of work," she said nonchalantly, lying down on her bed, "but I fail to see why your aunt gave you a necklace with the Lihin crest on it."
The statement was said neutrally enough, but Ghia could hear the tension in Yarrow. Swallowing the lump of nervousness in her throat, Ghia responded very quietly. "It was on me when they found me. They...they think it may be a clue to my family origin."
Yarrow grunted as she adjusted position on her mattress and Ghia felt increasingly nervous. Yarrow was short-fused and moved more quickly than a cat, and here Ghia was, trapped in a room with her, suggesting she was royalty. Suggesting this to a princess of Athering -- and furthermore, that she was royalty related to said princess. Was she crazy?
She jumped when Yarrow spoke. "About a tredicem and a half before I turned eleven, I was visiting my grandmother and uncle in Atton. Uncle Terence had been incredibly depressed since late Decima, when his husband and one-year-old daughter had disappeared, presumed dead in the treacherous mountain passes. Grandmama had thought the visit with me would cheer him up. Apparently I reminded him too much of his little one, whom he'd loved more than life itself. We found him on the last day of my visit, hanging from the chandelier." She paused.
Ghia froze, unable to speak for the horror that gripped her.
"That was in 4001. I guess you would have been about a year old then, wouldn't you?" Yarrow looked at Ghia intensely.
Ghia nodded stiffly, afraid of Yarrow's reaction.
The bellica simply nodded briefly, as if Ghia had merely confirmed something she already knew. "I'd wondered, for a while. I knew Helene and Kasandra had adopted you. I guess this pendant just clinches it, doesn't it? Cousin?"
Before she could stop herself, Ghia found herself choking out a question whose answer she dreaded. "Do you blame me for his death?"
Yarrow snorted. "Obviously, Ghia, you were the one who decided to leave, at the age of one year. It had nothing to do with your mother." She shot Ghia a look that made the healer feel silly at having asked. "Though," the bellica added, leaning back in her bed, "I would like to have a word with my aunt, if she still lives, to ask her what was so damned important it was worth destroying my paternal family over."
Ghia cringed inwardly. She already knew what had been so important. Telling the bellica, however, required a level of trust that didn't exist between them at this point. Instead, she shrugged. "I don't know. Are you upset that we're related?" Why am I being so childish tonight?
Yarrow rolled onto her stomach and shot a droll look at Ghia. "If I were, I wouldn't have called you cousin, would I?" She punched her pillow and laid down on her bed, obviously ready to sleep.
"So...you don't think I'm weak anymore?"
Yarrow grimaced. "Did Jules tell you? I'll flay him."
"What? No. I'm just good at reading people," she lied easily. What had Yarrow said to Jules? Now she was curious.
"Hm. Well, I did think you were weak. But I'm a cynical old bellica who's been in this job too damned long, and making snap judgments is part and parcel with my line of work." She shrugged. "I forgot there were many forms of strength. You'll make a good Lady Lihin, Ghia."
Lady Lihin? "What?"
"You're next in line for Atton, Ghia. You're the only possible heir."
"But you're older than I." Ghia was flabbergasted. She couldn't be the heir to Atton. Not possible.
Yarrow groaned. "What do you know about Athering inheritance laws, Ghia?"
She shrugged. Her schooling had been in the history of magek, not the laws that governed her country, for they were fickle, depending on the whims of the current ruler. She'd never bothered to learn them. "Virtually nothing."
"Mm. Ok, well, here's how it goes: the heir to the throne of Athering is encouraged to choose from nobility or high-ranking military for her Consort. Aradia's line likes to keep the blood as pure as possible. However, if she is to choose someone from another royal family, like, say, the Lihin line, she cannot choose the only heir. There must be more than one heir to the line of that township. In my mother's case, there were no heirs, but there were two men who could produce heirs. However, when my mother chose Marcus Lihin, she negated the possibility of her children inheriting anything but her throne. Unlike commoner inheritance, as soon as a noble marries above her station, the children of that union inherit the higher-ranking station, and cannot be heirs to the lower-ranking. Make sense?" Yarrow looked at her expectantly.
"I think so," she said, nodding.
"So that means that only Terence Lihin's children are eligible to rule Atton. As you're his only child and female, you are the only heir to the throne of Atton, Ghia. I remain, forever, the Queen's best bellica." She quirked her lips in a smile that said she had no problem with her role.
Well, maybe she had one problem with it. "Queen's?" Ghia asked innocently.
A cloud covered Yarrow's face, and Ghia could see the mental struggle the bellica went through. After a moment she spoke. "Yes. Queen's."
Ghia wasn't sure what had made the bellica trust her with that, but she was grateful for it. It was a first step. She smiled at Yarrow. "Well. I'd rather remain the Queen's best healer than be Lady Lihin of Atton," she said in response.
Yarrow's face cleared from the storm clouds that had covered it a moment before, and she almost smirked. Almost. "What, you don't want to move to Atton? Jules is from there," she added nonchalantly, and Ghia frowned at her.
"Why would that matter?"
Yarrow cleared her throat. "No reason," she said, putting her head back on the pillow. "At any rate, I'll send a letter to Grandmama upon our return to Atherton. She'll be very happy to hear you're alive."
"Because I'm her heir?" Ghia asked, unable to keep the morose note out of her voice. She didn't want to be loved for her position. Helene and Kasandra had never cared that she was j
ust an orphan with no history.
"No. Because she's missed you very much these nineteen years. You were the joy of her life, Ghia. She was beside herself when you and your mother disappeared from their lives." A pause. "Though she will be happy to have an heir again. But mostly she just missed you. Ghia," she added, turning to face the healer once again, "I do think we should keep this quiet, on the whole. It might be...dangerous for word to get out that Atton has an heir again." Ghia nodded, knowing that Yarrow referred specifically to Zardria. Yarrow looked satisfied and put her head down again, facing away from Ghia. "Dim the lights, would you?" said her sleepy voice.
Ghia got up to extinguish the candles. It was late. They both needed to sleep.
When it was dark and Ghia was snuggled under the covers, she spoke tentatively. "Bellica?"
"Mmmm," came Yarrow's voice from her pillow.
"Tomorrow, we need to head to Harbourtown, Major Aro and I. Do we have your leave?"
There was a pause, and then Yarrow's voice floated over to her again. "Aye. But Jules stays here."
"I wouldn't dream of moving him while he recovers. He's still concussed."
"Good. I need him here."
Ghia did not want to ask why Yarrow would need her CMO around. She hoped that no one would be injured too terribly. Jules himself was not in perfect condition, and working too much would be bad for him.
Another silence passed. Then Ghia spoke again. "Yarrow?"
"What?" said the bellica testily.
"What's our family like?"
"Aside from Grandmama? Dead. I'll tell you more about her when we join you in Harbourtown. Now shut up and go to sleep."
Ghia let a smile steal across her face at the bellica's response. It was so typically Yarrow, she couldn't help but grin.
At that she turned over and tried to get to sleep. "Good night, cousin."
"Night, cuz," came Yarrow's muffled voice, and then there was no more noise but the heavy breathing of two very tired women.
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