The queen’s chamber was filled with the sound of the rain. Lirth stood at the open windows with her hands extended out to feel the droplets as they fell. Her dark hair hung free and long in glossy curls down her back. Larissa sat in the far left corner clearing up after the queen’s bath.
“Who is it?” Lirth asked as she turned from the window, wiping her hands on the towel over her shoulders.
“Jayne, your majesty,” Jayne replied with a curtsey.
“And Ryana, I assume.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Ryana answered. “I told her you were having trouble with leg cramps, and she brought her cream.”
“Thankfully they have passed, but when they come again, I will try the cream.” Lirth held out her hand toward Jayne, who crossed to set the small jar in it.
“Just rub a coin sized amount on the muscle that hurts with a massaging motion and the pain should ease quickly.”
“Show Larissa and Ireic how to apply it for me. I have a hard time reaching my own legs these days.” Lirth smiled as she laid her left hand on her swollen stomach. “The child grows restless. Do you want to feel?” she asked Ryana.
The child’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, yes please. I haven’t felt a baby kick.”
Lirth crossed to a chair and sat. “Come give me your hand.”
Ryana offered her hand and let the queen guide it to the correct place. A look of absolute wonder flickered across the girl’s features. For all Ryana’s pretension at sophistication, she wasn’t above wondering at the miracle of life within a mother.
“Ryana said that you had questions about the birth.”
Lirth raised her face and regarded her with steady blue eyes that focused slightly short of Jayne’s face. “Actually, it was more of a question about the things I have been experiencing. The Royal Midwife explained to me that when the time comes, I should expect pain that grips my middle and comes and goes with increasing intensity and regularity. Last night, I had pain that gripped my middle, but instead of increasing, it went away after an hour. Ireic said I should ask you about it.”
“It is normal. Some mothers experience phantom pains for up to a month before they begin birthing.”
“But how will I know when I need to send Ireic for you?” The queen’s eyebrows drew together over her dark eyes as she frowned. “I almost sent Ireic to fetch you last night. In fact, he would have gone without my permission if he wasn’t so worried about leaving me alone.”
Jayne grimaced at the king’s obvious concern for the child he already saw as his male heir.
“If they continue for over an hour and grow closer together, then call me. Even then it could be the phantom pains, but it would be better for me to come and examine you than to ignore it and have me come too late.”
“The baby kicked!” Ryana exclaimed. “He kicked my hand.”
Both women smiled at the girl.
“He is an active little one. I am sure I will have my hands full keeping him happy,” Lirth observed.
Noting the usage of the male pronoun, Jayne fought against the pressure to comment. If this were any other woman, she would have commented to Lirth that she should prepare her thoughts to accept a child of either sex. In her years as a midwife, Jayne had noticed that the bonding of mother and child progressed more smoothly when the mother and, if possible, the father were prepared for their son to be a daughter. Without the preparation, the parent appeared to bond with the babe reluctantly if the child was of the opposite sex than expected.
Of course, with the king and queen, things were a little different. Procreation had the purpose of producing an heir for the throne, a male child to rule after his father. Because of this, the first born was always seen as a boy from conception to birth, until the gender was revealed.
Struggling within herself, Jayne listened as Ryana and Lirth discussed the choices for names that were being considered. Finally, she decided that the queen at least should be prepared for a daughter, even if the king were not.
“Have you considered names for a girl?” she asked. She expected a frown or a hint of fear to pass over the queen’s face, but instead, Lirth smiled over at Jayne.
“If it is a girl, we were thinking of naming her Saria or Jacelyn.”
“So, the king will be content if this is a girl instead of a boy?”
“Of course.” The queen’s eyes filled with an emotion that Jayne could only identify as love. “In fact, Ireic has taken a fancy to us having a girl. He says he wants one who looks just like me. I keep telling him that the likelihood of that is very small, but he keeps mentioning it.”
“What about the succession?”
“We will love the child regardless of its sex.” Protectively cradling her stomach between her hands, Lirth smiled over at Jayne. “He or she is ours and there will be plenty of time for more. It is in the Kurios’ hands, He will decide, and we will rejoice in His decision.”
Jayne doubted it would hold true in practice. It cost him nothing to say it now that the child was unborn and he wished to keep his wife happy and content for the child’s sake, but when the child came, he would change his tune.
“Where is the baby going to sleep?” Ryana asked.
“Where did you sleep?” Lirth asked.
“I slept in a basket with my sister.”
“Then I suppose he will sleep in a basket too, close to my bed so I can feed him in the night.”
As Lirth and Ryana continued to discuss the plans surrounding the new arrival, Jayne slipped into her own thoughts to mull over the new revelations about the king. Despite Lirth’s professions of Ireic’s acceptance of a child other than his expectations, Jayne doubted he cared so little about the succession and the country’s wellbeing.
Chapter Fourteen
The rest of the day flew by in an unending series of crises. Rowana and Urith had a huge fight over who was to blame for the spilled soot all over the main hall floor. As far as Jayne could piece together, Urith tripped Rowana after she pushed his book on the floor. She happened to be carrying the metal ash pail at the time. The result was a loud clatter and a cloud of black that settled over the entire room. The ensuing shouting match brought Patti and Jayne running.
Once Jayne managed to start the two of them cleaning up the mess before the evening meal, Trina fell down the stairs with a blood curdling howl and a sickening crack. It took an hour to calm her. When Jayne settled her in the kitchen with a cold compress for her bump and a sugar stick for her sorrow, Urith appeared at the door, covered in black from sole to crown except for his hands, to tell her that the king wished to speak to her. Leaving Trina with her hiccup gasps under Patti’s watchful eye, Jayne hurried off toward the study, praying she would survive until bedtime.
She paused outside the heavy door to straighten her dress and brush the soot off the front as best she could. Please let it only be the king, Kurios, she prayed. I can handle him, but I don’t think I could face Liam right now. Her heart did a strange flip at the thought of Liam’s recent behavior in the garden. She had to struggle to push the image aside. Taking a deep breath, she tapped on the door.
“Come,” a deep male voice called.
The door opened easily to her touch and she stepped inside. The fire on the hearth held off the nip of rainy autumn air, and the dark, heavy furniture crowded for space on the carpets.
“Please close the door behind you,” the king requested without looking up from his scrutiny of the documents on his desk.
Jayne closed the door and crossed to stand before the desk. Instead of the memories of the distant past, she found her thoughts preoccupied with the first time she had met Liam here. His kindness and gentleness as she recounted her sordid family history warmed her heart.
Something stirred in the shadows to the right of the king. Jayne’s eyes met the steady gaze of the armed man standing in the shadow of a bookcase. He inclined his head to her politely. By now she had grown used to the this acknowledgement. The royal guard treated her like a noblewoman
. She wasn’t sure if they were taking their cues from Braxton and Liam’s men or the king’s direct orders. Either way, she was thankful for the distance and respect they granted her.
“Please be seated.” Ireic rose and turned toward the man in the shadows. Handing him a small stack of papers, he said, “See that Braxton gets these. He needs them immediately.”
“But, sire,” the man protested.
“She is hardly a threat to me, Yoric. Now go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you return.”
With a brisk bow and tapping of boot heels, Yoric left to obey.
“Now,” the king began as soon as the door closed behind the bodyguard, “I needed to speak to you about your father.” He looked up to catch the fear that flickered across Jayne’s features. “Don’t be frightened. I simply need to know the full story so I might correct the records of land ownership and husbandry that the crown maintains on all of the landowners in Anavrea.”
“What do you need to know, Your Majesty?”
“First, let us get one thing straight. My name is Ireic, not Your Majesty. I know that in public I have to be addressed as such, but in private, I choose who addresses me how. Liam trusts you and I am entrusting my wife’s life and the life of our child to you, so, I am inclined to have you address me by my first name when in private. Please call me Ireic, Jayne.”
Ireic smiled across the desk at her in a manner that even she could read as friendly. When he acted like this, it was hard to identify his intentions. Slightly stunned at his strange request, Jayne wasn’t sure how to reply.
“With that out of the way,” Ireic said. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and reached for his ink and quill. “Now we can get to business. Let us begin with you. What was your mother’s name?”
“Elana Pourtant of the house of Moren, second daughter of Warrich of Rohalyn,” Jayne replied. The sounds were strange to her tongue. It had been many years since she had quoted the titles of her mother.
“A noblewoman of the north,” Ireic observed with raised eyebrows. “He married her?”
“Yes, almost a year before I was born.”
“And what happened to her?”
“She died in childbirth.”
“And Oran’s mother?”
“She was a kitchen maid named Orta and I believe she came from the north also. He didn’t marry her. She died while carrying another child.”
“Urith’s mother?”
“The wife of my father’s steward, her name was Loen Arits. She didn’t want the child but wanted me to get rid of it. I refused but offered to take care of it. She gave me a signed document stating that I was Urith’s legal guardian after he was born. Do you want me to tell you about the other children too?” Jayne asked.
Ireic nodded without looking up from his hurried writing.
“Ryana and Rowana were born by a Ratharian slave woman Lord Alain brought back from his travels. Within three months of their birth she escaped, leaving them behind. Trina’s mother was the daughter of a traveling merchant named Trina. Her father sold her in marriage to Lord Alain for five barrels of ale. She died giving life to Trina.”
For a few moments, Ireic’s pen worked across the paper without pause. When he lay it down and surveyed his writing, Jayne ventured to ask, “What is this all for in truth?”
“I told you,” he replied, meeting her gaze steadily. “The records chronicle the offspring of each landowner with all pertinent information regarding whether they are legal heirs or not. Then when an incident arises where a title is contested, we have records to back our decisions.”
“Is someone contesting Lord Tremain’s title?”
Ireic frowned. “If you are concerned about Klian’s claims, don’t be. He has no right to the title. If anyone has right to this land and title it is you.”
“Me?” Jayne stared at him in shock. “My father publicly denounced me, wiping me from his line.”
“Ah, but then he signed the agreement with Klian. That document’s legality is based upon your place as his legitimate daughter. Without you being his daughter born within the confines of marriage, the document would be worthless.”
“So, if I refuse my claim to the title, the document is worthless? In that case, I denounce all claims to my father’s name.”
“It isn’t that easy,” Ireic replied. Leaning back in the chair, he frowned. “By law, you have first claim to the title. I complicated things by awarding the title to Liam, a move that by our records at the time was legal. However, in light of this new information, your claim has been proven legal. In the eyes of the law, whether or not you wish it, you are Lady Jayne Alain of Ashwyn Vargar, owner of the vargar and surrounding lands.”
Jayne’s mind blanked. It couldn’t be true. Her father had disinherited her, scorned her, and threw her out with her half siblings. How could he not have been thorough enough to not make it legal? He hated her as he hated all his children.
“Jayne?” A large hand caught her chin and lifted her face so he could study it. The king’s dark brown eyes were slightly worried as they met hers.
“Yes, sire,” she managed. “I am stunned. My father hated me.”
“That very well may be, but he was thorough in his revenge. It looks as though he wanted to keep you from knowing his plans and your status until you had married Klian and it was too late.”
“But I wouldn’t cooperate and so he had to wait. If he had tried something worse to pressure me into it, I would have run, so, he left it to Klian to finish.”
“Your father was a nasty man,” Ireic observed.
Jayne nodded. Then suddenly she focused on his face. “What about Liam? What will happen to him?”
Ireic laughed. “Liam will be fine. I will find him another title and lands.”
“Why?”
Fixing her with a steady gaze, he answered, “I owe him my wife’s life.” Then without prompting, he told how Lirth had been kidnapped during the assault to reclaim his throne and Liam endured great suffering to deliver her to safety. “He saved my life. Without Lirth’s solid faith, I would have never met and accepted the Kurios.
“Liam has proven his loyalty and valor many times over. As king, it is my duty to reward those who prove themselves faithful and Liam has done so. He is worthy of your trust, Jayne.”
The king’s pointed look made Jayne certain he was trying to say more than she was catching. He studied her face for a few moments. The dinner gong sounded, signaling it was time to dress for the evening meal.
Ireic withdrew to the desk. “Thank you for your help. I shall see you at dinner.”
Understanding she was being dismissed, Jayne rose to her feet and crossed to the door. Outside, Yoric the bodyguard greeted her with a bow and passed by her into the study, closing the door behind him.
As she climbed the stairs to her room to dress for the meal, Jayne’s head buzzed with the information that the king had just poured into it. The revelation she was mistress of Ashwyn Vargar changed everything. She still wasn’t sure what to think about it all.
~~~~~~
“I informed her,” Ireic said. He laid a hand briefly on Liam’s shoulder before taking his place at the head table. The great hall echoed with the murmurs of at least twenty conversations and disguised theirs in the chaos of sound.
“How did she take it?” Liam asked. He slipped his hands around his empty mug.
Ireic sighed. “As well as can be expected. It was a shock for her to find out her father hadn’t been thorough in his hatred.”
“She didn’t order me out of the vargar?” he asked without looking up. A small part of his heart assured him she wouldn’t, but her actions still did nothing to bolster his confidence.
“Why would she do that?” Ireic pinned him with a frown. “She cares for you more than she will admit.”
“She doesn’t show it.”
“When I arrived, she clung to you as though you were her only hope to survive my presence.”
“But that was then,
and this is now. You don’t understand, Ireic. Jayne talks to herself all the time. She convinces her head to function completely separate from her heart.”
“She trusts you more than any other man, Liam. Don’t discount that accomplishment.”
“What is that?” Lirth asked as she approached the high table on the arm of Isack, Ireic’s most trusted bodyguard.
“I was just telling Liam that Jayne trusts him above any other man in this vargar. It is a beginning.”
“But only a beginning,” Liam pointed out. Lirth took her place. Once seated, she turned her face toward Liam.
“It is the most important step for her. From now on, it shall be easier. Just be patient, Liam. She regards you as more precious than she will admit to herself.”
“Hush, she comes,” Ireic admonished his wife gently with a delicate brush to her cheek and a loving kiss on her forehead that made Liam’s gut ache.
Looking up, his eyes found Jayne crossing the room. She wore yet another of the worn but exquisitely elegant gowns he suspected had been her mother’s. The sight of her took his breath away. Somehow he could see so much more than her external beauty, which was lovely on its own. The strength of her spirit, standing against fear, abuse, scorn, and hatred for so long without warping her ability to love and sacrifice for her siblings spoke to him. She found the will to go on every morning, the fortitude to straighten her shoulders and face the horror of her life each day. None of this was evident in the image she presented to the waiting men as they lined the heavy oaken tables. But Liam’s eye saw it in the tilt of her head, hiding her face partially in the rich, silken fall of brown hair, the glimmer of fire that was always just beneath the surface of her eyes, and the proud tautness to her shoulders.
Silently, Jayne approached the high table. With a deep curtsey to the king and a murmured greeting for the queen, she took her place without meeting his gaze or acknowledging his presence.
King Ireic Theodoric rose to his feet and signaled for attention. A hush fell over the company.
“I have an announcement. I have been investigating, at the request of Lord Tremain, the matter of estate of the late Lord Alain. In light of the evidence Lord Tremain has gathered over his stay here, I have been able to determine that I was in error when I appointed him as Lord Ashwyn. The Ashwyn title rightfully belongs to another.”
The Reward of Anavrea Page 13