Adam seemed unbothered. “Syrano’s always overreacting about these things, Alyce. Father is aging, yes, but he’s perfectly fit. Why create distress where there’s no proof?”
“But—”
“It’s speculation,” he said, a little sharply. “Nothing more. Now, where are the bowstrings, Syrano? I need to ready my replacements. Wait here for me, Alyce.”
Syrano passed him a bundle of dried catgut and Adam stalked from the room, muttering that he would return in a moment. I watched the space where he had stood, suddenly cold, and rubbed my arms. Syrano replaced the bow he’d been handling and smiled at me. “He knows his own mind, doesn’t he? He’s always been the stubborn one.”
I nodded. “Almost as stubborn as I am.”
I said it as a joke, but Syrano considered me. “I can see that,” he said thoughtfully, then shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t mean to offend. It’s probably one of the reasons you suit each other so well.”
“I suppose,” I said, not feeling much better. It wasn’t the most flattering portrayal I’d ever heard of myself, but also not the worst.
“Alcestis,” he said after a pause. “Alyce—if you prefer. I’ve never visited your kingdom, but I know its history. Myrilla is famous for its struggles. I know your borders have been breached again and again, and that your fields have seen barren seasons more often than not.” He hesitated. “I also know you’ve suffered a great deal, isn’t that right?”
I ignored the lump rising in my throat. “Less than most,” I said, my voice quivering. “I guess Adam’s told you everything.”
“Not everything, but some. You’ve seen where I grew up: endless fields and forests, all flanked by the glorious river. Not to mention calling this castle my home. You’ve met my parents, who have never hidden their love from me. Believe me, Alyce, I cannot imagine what you’ve endured. To have lost both parents as a young child, only to be secreted away by an aunt and uncle who treated you with nothing but scorn and neglect…and then forced you to marry a perfect stranger. My brother or not, it still wasn’t right. By the gods, it’s a wonder you even know how to laugh.” He watched me brush away the tears gathering my eyes. “But in spite of all those things, you’re standing here today as the Queen of Myrilla, the highest-ranking woman in this palace, second only to my mother. You’re strong, Alyce. And your strength has strengthened my brother in endless ways. I hope one day you will see that for yourself.”
I dried my cheeks with a swath of fabric from my skirt, sending a shower of gardenia petals floating to the floor. “Thank you, truly, Syrano.” I tried to articulate the deep gratitude I felt, the comfort that his unquestioning acceptance gave me, but found I could not. “I—thank you. Adam is a fine man, the best I’ve ever known. He’s so generous and brave; I don’t think anything in the world frightens him.”
To my surprise, Syrano looked suddenly troubled. “Oh, he has his fears like anyone else.”
“Like what?” I said, surprised.
He looked to the doorway, where Adam’s silhouette appeared in the light, carrying his newly strung bow. He seemed focused and cheerful, their earlier quarrel already forgotten.
“For as long as I can remember,” Syrano said, “my brother has been terrified of death.”
• • •
By the time we finished our tour of the armory it was late into the afternoon and dinnertime was hurtling quickly toward us. I knew better than to expect a private family meal that evening. With both Itomian princes present it would be a proper banquet, surpassed only by the celebratory feast once the hunt was finished. I had half-forgotten about Aveline’s offer to loan me a gown until we returned to our chamber and I saw a dark, velvet mass suspended from a hook. I called for Silda and asked her to help me dress, certain I’d need a great deal of time to grow accustomed to wearing such a thing. She obliged, joining me behind the screen while Adam sat on the bed, testing the notches of the arrows against his bowstring.
“What did you think of Syrano?” Adam called to me as I stepped into the gown. It seemed to swallow my legs; the skirt alone must have been sewn from an entire bolt of fabric. With a slight grunt, Silda pulled it up so I could slip my arms into the long sleeves.
“He was very welcoming,” I called back. “I thought he might have a low opinion of my being Myrillan, but he spoke with nothing but kindness—” My words were cut off when Silda began to lace the gown. It was so tight it squeezed all the air from my lungs. I couldn’t understand how it could possibly be so snug until I rested my hands on the bodice and felt long rows of bone sewn into the fabric. They chafed my ribs and pressed my breasts so firmly I squirmed in discomfort. Silda finished lacing the gown and tied the high collar shut, then stepped away so I could look at myself in the glass.
I studied my reflection. The gown was exquisitely made, without a doubt. Rich brocade in midnight blue, studded with diamonds to look like stars in the night sky. But I felt strangled, as though the fabric was constricting around my torso and trying to impede my breath. Desperately, I slid two fingers under the collar in an attempt to loosen it, but to no avail. No wonder the Itomian women on the pleasure cruise moved so little, I thought. I could scarcely draw a deep draught of air, much less raise my arms. I stepped out from behind the screen, the gown’s endless and heavy train puddling behind me.
“What do you think?” I asked uneasily.
Adam looked up from his bow. “Why are you wearing that?”
“Princess Aveline lent it to me. For dinner.”
“Did you not bring enough clothes?” he asked, with a meaningful glance at my still very full trunk.
I rested my hands on the stomacher, stiff and immobile from the bones sewn into the ribs. My waist felt like it was encased in iron. “No, I have plenty. That’s not—” I stopped, embarrassed. “Aveline made some remark earlier about the way I was dressed, and suggested I wear something of hers tonight.”
Adam put down his bow and turned toward me. “What sort of remark?”
I felt the color rising in my face. “She said my Myrillan gowns are inappropriate. Or indecent. I can’t remember which word she used. And the other ladies agreed with her, I could tell from the way they snickered after she said it. Not your mother; she’s been nothing but gracious. But the ones who were standing there…”
I trailed off, not meeting Adam’s eyes. I heard him rise from the bed and only when he stood directly in front of me did I look at him.
“Alyce,” he said steadily, “don’t be angry with what I’m about to say.” He drew a deep breath (I envied him for that) and smiled. “But that is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.”
I glared at him. “No, it isn’t,” I said, hot with indignation. “It may seem trivial to you, but these kinds of things are a critical part of state visits.”
He burst out laughing. “State visits? Alyce, this is my family, remember? I’ll agree with you that Aveline is not the most welcoming person when you first meet her—honestly, I wonder sometimes why Syrano ever married her—but you needn’t worry so much. This is your first time outside Myrilla’s borders since you were a child. I understand you’re nervous, but I still want you to enjoy yourself. Don’t let a bunch of whispering women ruin that for you. You’re an excellent queen, and they’re fools if they can’t see it.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. And truly, I did enjoy the river cruise,” I said, a smile creeping over my face. “I loved seeing where you grew up. It’s a beautiful country, Adam.”
“Thank you. I asked them to prepare it especially for you,” he teased. “I had a fine time with you today as well.”
He returned to the bed and picked up his bow once more. I turned around and kicked the heavy brocade train behind me, ready to ask Silda to unlace the gown and help me choose another from my own wardrobe. But before I stepped behind the screen, Adam called to me.
“Wait, Alyce.”
I turned to him, pausing the act of gathering the
skirts in my arms.
“Yes?”
“Just one more thing,” he said. “As for your Myrillan clothes, if you could have seen how you looked today, walking toward me over the lawn with flowers in your hair and that dress fluttering around your legs in the breeze…” his words died away, and I was surprised to see him blush. “Trust me, you’d never wear anything else.”
Chapter 20
It should not surprise you that the banquet Adam and I attended that evening was the most opulent I had ever experienced. There are few places left in the world that still put on such extravagant affairs as the Itomians. The great hall—large enough to house a small village—was packed to the brim with the Itomian court and guests present for the boar hunt. Long tables buckled under the weight of stags and boars, roasted whole with their antlers or tusks set artfully in place, and enormous baskets of fish caught from the Broom River to be cooked over the fires to your liking. There were platters of beef, pork, and rabbit, interspersed with overflowing bowls of fruits and vegetables. Flagons of wine in every color were scattered along the tabletop so that if a servant didn’t appear quickly enough to refill your glass, you could help yourself. Laughter and good-natured arguments filled the hall, and when Adam and I paused on the threshold of the great doors, waiting for our introduction, we exchanged eager smiles.
“King Admetus and Queen Alcestis, of Myrilla,” announced the herald, and every head in the hall turned to look at Adam, their long-lost prince, and his new bride. My gown was the color of fresh butter, with forget-me-nots and cornflowers sewn into the hem and train. Before Adam offered me his arm he plucked a stray blue petal from my dress. With a wink, he tucked it into the front of his doublet and I nearly burst out laughing. He led me through the gauntlet of tables, hissing names in my ear so quickly I could barely keep up.
“That’s Prince Saban, a friend of my father’s. Lord Hothpert and his wife, Lady Violette. Lord Ozias rules the northern half of the kingdom,” he told me, gesturing to a young man with curly auburn hair and a distinct scowl. “I spent a summer with him when we were boys; his father tried to teach me to sail on Lake Windmast, but I was a miserable disappointment. He told me I’d never make a seafarer.”
“His son certainly looks miserable now,” I whispered back. “I wonder what’s the matter with him.”
“Syrano told me his wife just gave birth a few days ago, so she couldn’t join him here. He hates traveling without her. Now over there”—he nodded to a distinguished-looking woman, who gave him a rather cold glance in return—“that’s Lady Prospera. She was desperate for me to marry her daughter. Kept shoving her toward me every chance she got.”
“Poor girl,” I said, amused. “And why didn’t you oblige her?”
“She wasn’t interested, I assure you. She said I was too loud and boisterous, and she was never good for a laugh. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I saw her smile. She’s betrothed to a financier in my father’s court now, and quite happy. No hearts were broken, Alyce, don’t worry.”
We reached the high table and found our seats. Unlike our high table in Myrilla, where everyone sat facing each other, there were chairs only along one side of the table so that we could all see the hall. The arrangement enabled the servants to fill our plates for us without reaching over our backs, according to Adam. We stood behind our places until Syrano and his family entered (the cool look Aveline gave me when she saw my gown could have frozen the sun), followed by Adam’s parents. Once they were seated there was a great shuffle of chairs and the feast began.
At first I felt silly pointing out all the things I wanted to eat instead of taking the food from the great platters myself, but the young woman preparing my plate was gracious and helpful, explaining the contents of unfamiliar dishes. I soon found myself with a plate of spiced reed fish wrapped in silver fern leaves and baked, and a scattering of mushrooms stuffed with venison, blue peppers and goat’s cheese. I sampled the latter with great skepticism, but quickly grew enamored with the salty, creamy tang.
The hall was nearly silent for all the happy eating, and only when I was on my second course—black bread spread with the sweetest butter I had ever tasted—did Adam gesture to the man sitting to my right.
“You remember Lord Thaine, Alyce. He and his brother are here from Warkenland for the hunt.”
Lord Thaine gave a satisfied nod, his dark eyes twinkling beneath bushy black eyebrows. “And greatly looking forward to it. May I have the pleasure of introducing my wife, Kassia.” He reached for the hand of the woman beside him. She had a lovely smile and was heavy with child. “My brother Eroy’s over there next to Prince Syrano. No doubt telling everyone in earshot how he plans to bring down the Caledonian Boar tomorrow.”
“With one arrow, I’ll wager,” Adam added, snickering.
I looked between them. “What’s the Caledonian Boar?”
“It’s the king of the forest,” said Lord Thaine, with a wide sweep of his arm. “Years ago, boars larger than warhorses used to fill the hunting grounds of Itomius. Nasty beasts, they were, and bloodthirsty. But over time their numbers have diminished, and now there’s only one left. It’s the ultimate prize for any true hunter.”
“Boars larger than warhorses,” I repeated, both fascinated and horrified by such a prospect. I turned to Adam. “You’ve seen one of these before?”
“I’m sorry to say I haven’t,” he admitted.
“And you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who has,” said Lady Kassia, rolling her eyes in mirth. “I was born in Itomius and all my life I’ve heard how there’s only one Caledonian Boar left in the forest. I’m sure my mother heard the same story. And her mother before her. It’s a myth, Queen Alcestis. The perfect quarry dreamed up by men to comfort themselves when they returned from hunts with empty quivers and no game.”
“My wife is terribly practical,” said Lord Thaine in a mock whisper. “Must be all that Itomian sensibility and work ethic hammered into her from birth. Not a drop of imagination between the lot of them. Impossible to live with, aren’t they, Queen?”
Adam chuckled when he heard this. “Take care, sir,” he shot back. “Else you’ll find yourself imagining a new place to sleep tonight.”
Bellowing with laughter, Lord Thaine acknowledged the hit. “True, true. But really, Queen Alcestis, you must come with us on the hunt tomorrow,” he said, gesturing for a servant to pour him another glass of wine. “None of this business of hanging back with the other ladies. You Myrillan queens are tough, the gods know that. Your grit is legendary, to have survived as many wars and invasions as you have—” Lady Kassia elbowed swiftly him in the ribs, cutting him off. He cleared his throat and lowered his head in apology. “No offense intended, of course, Queen.”
The serving woman placed a bowl of thick rabbit stew before me. “None is taken, sir,” I told him. “In fact, I’m flattered you have such a high opinion of my strength. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly formidable. Must be all those years of invasions and wars playing havoc on my confidence,” I said, with a sly wink to his wife.
“Well, you’re an example to us all, Queen,” he said, lifting his goblet in a toast. I watched, amazed, as he drained the whole thing yet again and called for more. How he managed to stay upright in his chair escaped me completely. He looked past me at Adam. “What do you have to say about all this, King Admetus? Has your queen the nerve and skill to join the pursuit? Or will she be content to wait in your chamber, ready to warm the bed upon your return?” He paused, grinning. “Of course, that would take equal nerve and skill, her being married to a beast like you.”
Everyone in earshot laughed, appreciative of his bawdy jest. I didn’t dare look at Adam; his embarrassment hovered beside me like a tangible cloud. The heat rose in my face and I tried desperately to think of some clever barb to toss back at him, but thankfully Lady Kassia came to my rescue.
“Don’t tease them,” she chided her husband. “They’re still newly wed.”
>
“The newly wed were made for teasing. The gods knew what they were doing when they designed the act of love. Nothing else could be so sacred and so amusing at the same time.”
Lady Kassia laughed. “You are a poet, good sir. But don’t let him bully you into hunting, Queen,” she said to me, “no matter how pretty his words are. I’d go myself, but not this year.” She rested her hand on her rounded belly. Lord Thaine beamed, and with tenderness that surprised me, placed his own hand on top of his wife’s and kissed her.
“So, will you come?” asked Lord Thaine. “We need a woman’s gentle hand to keep us monsters in line.”
I swallowed the last bite of my stew and the empty bowl was instantly whisked away. The serving woman reached for my plate and began filling it with cuts of meat from the platters before us. I thanked her and held my knife and fork, considering Lord Thaine’s question. “I never thought about going on the hunt. It certainly sounds like an adventure. I wouldn’t want to be in the way, though. I haven’t the experience the rest of you do. And the way you’ve all been talking, it sounds awfully dangerous.”
He laughed, his teeth flashing. “That’s the thrill of it. Don’t you agree, O wise King Admetus?”
Our eyes all turned to Adam, who was sipping his wine thoughtfully. “Yes, though there’s a difference between doing something thrilling and something reckless,” he said, with tact. “The boar hunt isn’t a haphazard venture. It’s full of sport and danger and good fun, but it’s also a calculated undertaking. We choose our arms with great care and make sure our mounts are healthy in order to minimize accidents. We don’t rush at the game like novice boys chasing a rabbit. Of course, accidents can and do still happen in the field, but not out of foolishness or neglect. Most of the time, anyway.”
Lady Kassia nodded. “Well said. Sometimes when the gods call us home, they take away our weapons and leave us no choice, but other times we can fight our way out of their grasp.”
A chill went down my spine. I inwardly squirmed at the way Itomians talked about the gods, without reverence or veneration. There was no fear in their voices, no respect or blood. It wasn’t right, and I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d be punished for it somehow. I felt the shadow of Kore looming over me, even in that banquet hall miles from the temple. I was almost eager to answer when Lord Thaine gave me an expectant look, still awaiting my decision about the hunt, simply to shake away Kore’s disapproving presence.
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