by Annie Eppa
He looked like he was willing to pick her up and throw her bodily back into the room if she did not comply, so Adelai was forced to comply, fear growing with every second. She thought about rushing past them and taking her chances, but she knew that would be too reckless. She didn’t know what was going on outside, and she would be in the thick of battle before even realizing it.
Adelai remained on her bed for the next hour or so, her eyes trained at the door in all that time, never knowing if one of the rebels would come rushing through the door, or if the king’s men would come and put an end to her. When the door finally swung open, Adelai tensed.
It was one of the guards, gesturing at her to follow. Feeling sick, Adelai allowed them to lead her out, wincing when they grabbed her arms roughly. The sounds of fighting were loud, like there was one happening at every corner they moved to. She didn’t see any soldiers, but through windows she was ushered past Adelai caught glimpses of people fighting outside, clouds of smoke sometimes marring her vision. She thought she heard fighting inside the palace, at the lower ground, but the guards made no move to lead her downstairs.
Instead, they led her to the king’s chambers, and she would have much rather taken her chances below than face what she knew would be Garrant’s wrath. She took a step back, trying to put that thought into action, but the guards sensed her intention. Their grip on her tightened, digging into her flesh. “No games, milady,” one of them barked.
The room was dark when they entered, and at first Adelai thought there was no one there. But a shadow moved, and she saw the king reclining on his chair, head leaning against a hand, elbow propped up against the armrest. Cold pale eyes studied her, and for once he was no longer smiling.
“Leave us,” he barked, rising from his chair and striding toward Adelai. The guards complied, retreating for the door. But Adelai turned and darted for the exit herself, hoping she was quick enough to make it past the guards before they could react. But the king must have sensed what she was planning to do, because he was on her in an instant, grabbing an arm and twisting it behind her. Adelai cried out in pain.
“I should have killed you while I had the chance,” he hissed, the instant the doors closed behind them. The pressure on her arm increased, and Adelai bit her lip. “You must be glad that your little scheme is about to succeed, little maiden. All of Arbentide is up in arms against me, perpetuated by my traitor of a general and that Silverwhore. I hope it was all worth it.”
Loud yelling erupted from somewhere outside the door, and was abruptly cut off with two hard thumps, like some thing hard had been thrown against the wall. The door was kicked open, wood flying in, and Thornton stood, breathing heavily. His face was cut and bleeding, dirty from soot and ash. “Let go of her, your Majesty.”
The king cackled, the laughter sounding insane to Adelai’s ears.
“And so the snake finally shows its true colors.” Something cold and sharp pressed against her neck. “I’d suspected that she’d bewitched you, Thornton, when you insisted on protecting her after those damn fools Sevrigne and Kazer got themselves arrested. Sevrigne should have finished her off, and he couldn’t even do something so simple as that. Are you so eager to get into her bed that you’re willing to betray your own king, Altfyre?”
“Please surrender peacefully, your Highness,” Thornton’s voice was strained. He was moving in a slow circle around the king, who was forced to turn and follow his movements, still keeping the knife against her throat. “I guarantee your safety if you do.”
“Safe?” King Garrant’s voice rose, a high-pitched giggle. “It’s too late, Captain. Too late to be safe, not when you’ve destroyed my kingdom.” The blade pressed harder against her neck, and Alai felt it nick lightly at her skin. “But before I leave, I’m going to enjoy watching as I take away at least one thing you hold dear.”
“You do not want to add harming a shrinemaiden to the list of charges against you, your Majesty.”
“A shrinemaiden? You still call this whore a shrinemaiden? I’ve done worse, Captain. I killed my own father,” the king was coming undone, the knife underneath her chin trembling. Adelai forced herself not to cry out at the slight pain. “That useless old man - useless, useless, useless! The kingdom is mine to play with! Mine!” Spittle flew from his lips. “You don’t think I see them watching? All the time, they watch; watching, watching.” He snickered, his madness now all the more apparent.
“Your Majesty - “
“Your Majesty,” the king mocked, “when it’s Belair who truly owns you, eh Thornton? What makes you think I won’t kill her when I killed my own old, senile father? Only the strong shall survive! I am strong! Say goodbye to your little whore, Thornton.”
“No, he won’t,” someone said from behind him.
The king turned, and Adelai took the opportunity to act. She moved, her hands coming up to block the knife against her throat. The blade cut deeply into her skin, and this time she did cry out, falling to her knees.
Almost at the same time, there was a heavy thunk. King Garrant fell, his eyes wide and clutching at an arrow now protruding from the center of his throat. He made a strange gurgling noise, and then let out one last, long sigh, before toppling down beside her.
Thornton was by her side within moments, his hands pressed against her neck, and she realized that he was trying to staunch the wound there. She also realized, dimly, that her hands were bloody from deep cuts in her palms where she had tried to deflect the dagger. But there seemed to be more blood than there should have been, blooming across her dress….
The captain of the guard was yelling something, but try as she might Adelai couldn’t understand the words. There was a loud ringing in her head, growing louder and louder, drowning out everything else in the room but the blood on her hands, and that sharp, throbbing around her neck….
She slipped down into darkness.
The first thing she remembered, when she swam back into consciousness, was the nagging, dull pain at her throat. She moaned softly, trying to open her eyes. Bright light assailed her vision, and she groaned again, eyes falling shut.
“Close the curtains,” someone commanded, and Adelai could feel the room grow darker despite her closed eyes. When she opened them again the room was shrouded in shadow, but she could make out the faces of people, gathered around the bed. Her relief was immediate when she saw Lady Maestre sitting beside her, worn and pale, her bright gray eyes glittering with unshed tears. Her cousin, General Falen, was at her side, looking concerned. It was such an unexpected expression on his face that Adelai frowned for a moment, wondering why he looked so different. Lady Wilchestrom was also on hand, but for once the vivacious woman was in tears, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Welcome back, Adelai,” Shannika said, her voice soft the way people talked when an invalid was present, “You had us very worried, for awhile there.”
“What happened?” Adelai asked, unable to speak above a whisper. Her voice sounded raspy, and it only increased the odd friction in her throat, like she was having trouble pronouncing her words.
Shannika lifted a hand, signaling for her to stop. “Don’t speak. The king hurt you badly. A little deeper, and he would have….” She broke off with a loud sob, clapping a palm to her mouth to stifle the sound.
“You’re very brave, Adelai,” The Wolf said, his voice just as quiet as the Silvermaiden’s. “It was thanks to you that we were able to find the documents in the first place.”
“I was so glad it worked,” Shannika sniffed, “I was so worried. I’ve never started a fire before, and I didn’t know how fast it might spread. I didn’t want to leave you, Adelai. I’m so sorry. I wanted to wait until they could find you - ”
“It was my decision,” the general interrupted, “If you must blame anyone, then it should be me. If you’d been rescued as well, Garrant may have become suspicious, and might have moved the documents to another hiding place.”
Adelai asked a question with her eyes.
Shannika nodded.
“Yes, Sana found them exactly where you said they were going to be. There’s a false wall at the back of the king’s personal dresser, a padlocked safe. We’d had people look through his rooms before, but they’d never found this. Sana was able to pick the lock and retrieve the documents while the king was planning the attack on the Watch with Thornton. We better give Sana a hero’s medal, by the way. She was able to get in and out of the palace grounds and found the note you tied to your window. Your room was the first place we looked into, but by the time we got there the guards had already taken you away to the king’s chambers.”
“I think Adelai deserves a medal, too,” Kinlee said, entering the room. The redhaired girl was dressed in a simple dress, and her hair was pinned up in a becoming style on her head, framing her pretty face - a sign that the Wolf had freed her from her bond as a slave. “We found all the incriminating documents we needed in the king’s dresser - his personal seal granting both Sevrigne and Kazer safe passage into other kingdoms, documents of sale from noblewomen who’d already been sold off to the slavers, another giving him generous percentages on every slave they sell - he even owned the ship they used. All with his royal seal, to assure the slavers it was a genuine royal decree, and to avoid paying his own taxes for the ship and the men they hired. There’s also an order to kill Belair, and a diary where he confessed everything in his own writing.”
Lady Wilchestrom sniffled, and shook her head. “Greedy bastard. If he’d survived, there would have been enough to convict him.”
Adelai’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” Kinlee smiled sadly, correctly interpreting her next question. “King Garrant didn’t leave his room alive. It might be for the better.”
“I think we’ve tired Adelai enough,” Shannika said firmly. “We can explain everything else later. You need to sleep.”
Adelai nodded, still too weak to argue further. She looked around the room again.
“He’ll be there when you wake up, Adelai,” Shannika said soothingly, patting her hand. “For now, rest.”
But the captain of the guard did not visit her in the two days that followed, though Lady Wilchestrom painted her a different picture during the days before she woke. “He never left your side,” she told Adelai. “I’ve seen that man weather through storms and battlefields, my dear, and never lose his composure. He looked so broken, even after knowing you were safe. And when you finally stirred, just when I thought he would be relieved - he left the room, just like that. I haven’t seen him since.” She squeezed her arm. “It doesn’t take a fool to know he is quite terribly in love with you, my dear, and I wish he’d get himself together so you can see it for yourself.”
“I already know, milady,” Adelai said, with a sad smile.
King Belair made an official visit to Sarcopia, to forge a stronger alliance, or so he claimed. “My main goal was to see you, my dear,” the king said with a smile. “I asked you to spy for me, to see what advantages I could use over Garrant. Not to throw yourself headfirst into the rebellion and nearly get yourself killed.” His eyes grew misty. “If I’d known how close you came to being hurt because of my own selfishness, your high priestess would have never forgiven me for it. I would have never forgiven myself.”
“It’s not your fault, your Majesty.” Adelai still sounded hoarse, but it no longer hurt as much to talk. Her neck was still swathed in bandages, as were her palms, but other than occasional flickers of pain whenever she moved too quickly, she was feeling much better, was looking forward to the day she could be let out of bed.
“Nevertheless, it I who am still responsible. I told you before that there were risks, yes - but I never expected it to go this far.” The king squeezed her wrist. “And I am grateful for everything you have done for me. I have talked with Sarcopian’s new ruler - who is of a much more reasonable breed than Garrant - and we have both agreed to bestow upon you the title of duchess. In Sarcopia you will be the Duchess of Holmgren; in Atalantea, the Duchess of Isles. You will find yourself a very rich woman upon leaving this room, your Grace - rich enough that you’ll be the first shrinemaiden in history to have been able to buy yourself out of the trade in less than a year - which you will do no such thing, because Saleia and I agreed you are to be released from your bond without paying her a cent.”
“Your Majesty….”
“And I won’t take no for an answer, Adelai.” The king grinned at her. I suggest that you take us up on our offer, while you still have some peace and quiet. I do not think this will be the case once Saleia herself comes to visit.”
The king of Atalantea was correct in that assumption. A day later, High Priestess Saleia came marching into Sarcopia, striding into the castle and demanding to see her ward.
“Whatever possessed you to do this?” She shrieked upon entering the room. Shannika, who was sitting with Adelai when the old woman came stomping in, could not hold back her wince. “Do you not understand what the word ‘spy’ means, Adelai? It means to look for information in potentially hostile territory without letting yourself be known. While you have done admirably in that first part, you have been horribly negligent in the latter.”
“Is she trying to praise you, or lecture you?” Shannika asked Adelai.
“You get used to her ways after awhile,” Adelai whispered.
“I think I’m going to leave so you two can catch up,” Shannika decided.
“Coward,” Adelai mumbled, but the woman pretended not to hear. She curtsied to Saleia, who barely paid her any attention, and glided out of the room.
Once the door closed behind her, the high priestess strode over to where she was propped up against the pillows. To Adelai’s astonishment, the temple matron leaned over and hugged her tightly, careful not to put too much pressure on her neck and hands as she did. “You sweet, insufferable child,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “You nearly stopped my heart, marching in and helping the general retake Sarcopia the way you did! When I heard you’d been gravely injured I feared the worst. Never, ever do this again to me, Adelai. I might not survive another attempt.”
“Priestess,” Saleia’s arms around her were what triggered her own tears. She had not cried since waking up, and now all the tears that had been building up inside her all this time, began to flow. She clung to the woman’s bony arms and sobbed her heart out, letting go, and the priestess held on to her, anchoring her against the tide threatening to sweep her out to sea.
Some time later, when her weeping had tapered off and she could think coherently again, Saleia spoke. “I have a confession to make, my dear. I told Thornton that you would be at the gardens that day, after your first run-in with him. Yes,” she smiled, at the startled look she gave her, “I did my best to push the two of you together, and I had hoped that you would be attracted to him, and that his own attraction would run deeper than his first impression of you.”
“But why…?”
“I did not want you to spend the rest of your life as a shrinemaiden. I did not want you to look back on your life and regret wasting the better part of your years entertaining other men, when you should have been falling in love and forging your own path on your own terms. I did not want you to turn out to be another me, Adelai.”
“But… there were other girls in the temple. Why would you single me out for…?”
“Adelai,” the high priestess said, and took a deep breath, “Adelai, I’m your mother.”
It was difficult at first. Adelai was shocked, and then disbelieving, and then even a little angry. Why hadn’t Saleia told her? Why let her believe that she was an orphan, all alone in the world?
Later on she, like she always did, tried to rationalize everything her mother did. Children had no place in a shrinemaiden’s life. Shrinemaidens would have to divide their time between raising them and attending to their clients, something most of the latter didn’t want. If Adopting Adelai out to another couple would have been the most obvious choice.
And then
what about afterward, when her adoptive parents died and she was given over to the temple? Children were grounds for a temple high priestesses’ removal. Saleia must have realized that, and so could not claim her as her own. But she had looked out for her over the years, without giving her preference over her other sisters.
When it came down to it, Adelai conceded, it was deciding whether knowing a mother’s love was worth all the other hardships that would have come her way, and Saleia had made that decision for her.
Following the announcement, the high priestess deliberately stayed away for the next couple of days, giving her time to let everything sink in. When she returned, she was surprised to find the shrinemaiden calm and accepting. “I have one question,” Adelai began, “I want to know more about my father. Is he…?”
Saleia shook her head. “He passed away a long time ago. He was a young blacksmith just starting up his trade, and we fell hopelessly in love. I was very young then, just starting out my first assignment to an older client who kept me as a sign of his prestige more than for anything else. We kept our affair a secret for the years I was there, but in the end I was careless, and fell pregnant. I thought about running away with him then, of shirking my duties and starting somewhere new, where no one knew who we were.”
“But he refused?”
She sighed. “He didn’t want to leave his hometown - his family, everyone he knew lived there. He didn’t want a baby at this point in his life, either. I met King Andrys, Belair’s father, around that time, and he expressed interest in purchasing my next contract. My patron agreed, but I realized I would not be able to keep this a secret from the king for much longer. I confessed all to him, threw myself at his mercy. He did everything he could to protect me, to let me deliver you in secret and arrange to have you adopted. Unfortunately, the couple we gave you to died in a plague a few years later, as did your father. When you were brought to me that first time, and I saw your lavender eyes, I knew it was fate.”