Daughter of the Disgraced King

by Meredith Mansfield

  “I know,” Sav said.

  Ailsa slowly turned away from the view to find Sav busy setting up a picnic under a huge pine tree near the edge of the lookout. She tugged on the end of her braid. This was going to be harder than she’d imagined. Sav wouldn’t like what she had to say. She could only hope that he’d understand her decision to wait. She couldn’t expect him to like it. She just had to make him see that she wasn’t rejecting him. Well, it wouldn’t get any easier by standing here watching him. She walked over and sat down on the blanket across from him.

  Sav handed her a glass of wine. “So, have you had enough time to think?”

  Ailsa sipped to give herself time to formulate an answer. She looked up to meet Sav’s eyes. “No, I can’t decide yet, Sav. This . . . just came out of the blue. And I can’t choose all in a day.” As Sav’s face drooped, she hastened to add. “Until last night, I could only dream that you’d ever even think of me that way.” She smiled at him, shaking her head a little. “I have dreamed about it—asleep and awake. But I never thought it would actually be possible. So I made myself dream of other things, like helping keep Far Terra green. I haven’t begun to have time to adjust my thinking. My head is still spinning and I can’t . . . I can’t make a lifelong decision when I can’t even think clearly.”

  Slowly, the corners of Sav’s mouth drew up into a smile. “You dreamed about me?”

  Ailsa smiled back. “All the time. There’s never been anybody else I thought about that way, Sav. I still can’t quite believe you actually proposed to me last night. That it wasn’t just another dream. I never expected anyone, least of all you, to propose marriage to me.”

  He blinked at her in evident surprise. “No one?”

  Ailsa shrugged. “It just didn’t seem possible. No one Mama would deem worthy would ask—for fear of offending your father.” She looked away, back to the view. “I’d made up my mind to dedicate my life to advancing the work of making Far Terra into the garden it can be, someday. Especially if I’m fortunate enough to have useful magic.”

  He reached across to take her hand. “But now you don’t have to do that.”

  She squeezed his hand to take the sting out of what she had to say next. “But I want to, Sav. I want to . . . to be of use. To make a difference.”

  His eyes seemed to burn into her. “You could do that as my queen.”

  Ailsa swallowed and tugged on her braid again. “Look around, Sav. Go look down at the view from the edge over there. You can see how badly Far Terra needs mages. And the only ones who will stick it out despite . . . everything, are ones that were born here, who love Far Terra as you and I do. So few new mages have consented to come out from Terranion in recent years. And they never stay long.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “I can’t do anything or decide anything until I know what I’m capable of. And I can only be tested at the Institute of Magical Arts. It may be that I have no significant talent. I’ve certainly never been able to do most of the things Mama has tried to teach me. Or I may have a talent that’s no use here.” That was her great fear, the one she’d never voiced aloud. She could say it to Sav, though. “If . . . if it turns out I’m a heat mage, like Mama, I might just turn around and come straight back.”

  Sav’s shoulders slumped. “I see.”

  Ailsa reached across and took his hand. “Sav, why do you want to marry me?”

  Sav looked into her eyes. “Because I love you.”

  Butterflies danced in Ailsa’s stomach. She couldn’t help smiling at those words. She drew in a shaky breath. “Princes—especially Crown Princes—don’t marry for love.”

  Sav tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek just a little longer than necessary. “Princes don’t often marry only for love. Sometimes, they’re lucky enough to fall in love with a woman who will make the perfect queen.”

  Ailsa cocked her head to one side, flushing. “Would I be a perfect queen?”

  “Of course.” He released her hand and started ticking off points on his fingers. “You understand the politics of Far Terra better than almost anyone, except your father. Maybe better than I do. You’d make an amazing advisor on that. You love Far Terra as much as I do and you see the same problems. Think of the work we could do together, putting things back on the right course. As you say, making Far Terra the garden it could be. You’re a great help to me already, easing the burden of the public part of the job. You could do that even better as my wife.”

  Ailsa raised her wine to her mouth to hide her frown. That was all very logical. And not at all romantic. Sav’s intelligence was one of the things she loved about him but . . . this made her wonder just what it was about her that Sav loved. The butterflies in her stomach were quiet, now, and the warm flush she’d felt dissipated. Something important was missing. Wasn’t it? She didn’t really feel loved—not in the way she wanted to be. Maybe that was what courtship was for. Well, if he was going to be logical, why not a real splash of cold water? “How do you think your father will feel about this?”

  Sav grinned. “See, that’s another reason this is the perfect marriage. Our marriage will reunite both royal lines. It’d put an end to his fear of a coup—not that that was ever likely to happen.”

  Ailsa rubbed at her eyebrow. She didn’t really think King Ewart would look at it that way. In her opinion, the king wasn’t likely to welcome anything that tended to favor either her father or, for that matter, Sav. Sav had disagreed with his father too often for the king to want to see him gain politically. “Do you think your father will welcome a marriage that strengthens your position more than his?”

  Sav looked away to the overlook. “I don’t like being at odds with Father. Every time we fight over the misuse of the mages it feels like I lose a little more of his trust. We should be working together for the good of our country, not pulling in opposite directions. I should be his right hand. This . . . this isn’t good for Far Terra. But, see, if he could just finally relax and realize that your father has no intention of trying to take back the throne, maybe he could see other problems more clearly. The real problems. I hope our marriage might finally convince him of that.”

  Ailsa took a piece of the cheese Sav had laid out and chewed while she thought. Sav was right about the way things should be. She just didn’t have any faith that it would work out that way. Not as long as Ewart was king. And she wasn’t at all sure that she was ready to step into that political maelstrom. Not even for Sav.

  Sav reached across to take her hand again. “What are you thinking?”

  Ailsa drew a deep breath and turned to face him. “I’m thinking that this isn’t something to undertake lightly. There are a lot of things to consider—both for us and for Far Terra.”

  “I’ve been thinking about all of those things for weeks now.”

  Ailsa gave his hand a small squeeze. “But I haven’t. And I need to. Some of these are things we should talk about. Father has always said that it’s hard for one person alone to look at all sides of an issue. Often you need someone else’s point of view before you can see the whole picture.”

  Sav smiled. “All right. Then you’ll stay and we’ll talk about . . . about everything.”

  Ailsa pulled her hand back. “No. I still need to find out what I’m capable of. That’s not something I can give up.”

  “If you go, marriage will be impossible for us. The barons—”

  “No, that’s not true,” Ailsa interrupted. “When I go, a single year is only very basic magical training. I’ll probably be taking as many classes in the non-magical Academy as at the Institute, even if I do have talent. Plenty of the barons themselves have gone to the capital for that. Even my father did, before he took the throne. Even your father did. For all but a few rare talents, early training doesn’t involve much magic at all.”

  Sav recaptured her hand. “I don’t want you to be gone for a year.”

  Ailsa smiled. That was better. Less analytical. “Well, that’s a different sort
of problem, isn’t it?” She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him through her lashes. “You know, there could be another benefit to this. It’ll give you time to court me properly. It may be petty, but I think I miss that.”

  Sav blinked. “But . . . but you’ll be days away in Terranion. How can I court you from here?”

  Ailsa shrugged, still smiling. “You’ve always been more comfortable writing than speaking. Maybe it’ll be easier for you this way.”

  Sav’s eyes drifted down to her mouth. “But I won’t be able to do this.” He leaned across and kissed her. The tingles and the warmth started even faster than they had last night. Ailsa leaned closer. Sav’s arms tightened around her as if he would pull her across the blanket to him. Then the world started spinning again. She couldn’t think or even breathe. Ailsa put her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself away, breaking off the kiss.

  She took a moment to catch her breath. “See. That’s what makes all of this so confusing. I can’t think straight when—”

  “Then don’t think.” This time he did pull her across, spilling the wine he’d poured for them, until she was nearly sitting in his lap and kissed her again. It seemed to go on forever—and she wanted it to—but eventually they had to stop to breathe.

  Ailsa backed off and stood up on shaky legs. She couldn’t let this go on, or else . . . or else she really never would get to the Institute of Magical Arts. “I really think we should go now.”

  Sav stood up and held his hands out to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  Ailsa took his hands and then dropped them in favor of wrapping her arms around him. They fit together so nicely. Her head felt just right against his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry, Sav. It’s because I don’t want to stop that I know we need to.” She breathed out a long sigh. “You aren’t making this any easier for me. I want to go to the Institute and I want to stay with you. I just wish I didn’t have to choose one or the other.”

  “But you will have to choose. You know how the barons feel about magic mixing with politics.”

  She snorted. “No one better. If they weren’t so stupid about that, my father would still be king.” And Sav’s father would still be just a distant cousin of the king, running estates out in the borderlands. And she and Sav might never have met. It wasn’t like they were even close family. Not like Perion, who was Papa’s sister’s son. The blood connection between King Ewart and Papa was six or seven generations old, dating back to the founding of Far Terra. Not even close enough for them to have met at occasional family functions.

  Sav stiffened. “Do you . . . do you wish your father hadn’t abdicated when he married your mother?”

  Ailsa leaned back to look in his face. “Not for myself.” She looked back toward the overlook. “For Far Terra, yes. We wouldn’t be in this fix if Papa were still king.” And Mama, a mage, would have been queen.

  Sav pulled her back against him. “Things would be simpler for us, too, I guess.”

  Ailsa shook her head against his chest. Would have, should have, but would never be. Everything was just too complicated right now. She needed time to think—without him confusing her still more. A year away seemed like a very good way to do that right now. She took a step back.

  Sav winced. “Will I see you again before you go?”

  “Not . . . not alone. I don’t think either of us can trust ourselves right now. But if you don’t come to say goodbye to me tomorrow night, I’m going to be very upset.”

  Sav’s voice was ragged. “Well, then, we can’t have that.”

  ~

  Ailsa stood in the doorway of the stables, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the cool, dark interior. Pearl whickered a greeting from two stalls down. Ailsa stepped forward, past her father’s big gelding, and offered Pearl the carrot she’d brought from the kitchens. The mare accepted the offering gravely and munched despite the full manger. Finished with the carrot, Pearl lowered her head and nudged Ailsa’s chest. Ailsa rubbed the velvet nose and buried her face in the silken mane. “Oh, I’m going to miss you! But it’s only for a year, Pearl. Remember that. I’ll be back.”

  “We’ll see that she’s well taken care of for you.”

  Ailsa jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. “Papa, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  “I thought I might find you out here. And there are a few things I want to say to you before you go tomorrow.”

  Ailsa smiled wryly. “I think Mama has already given me every kind of advice there is—including some that are mutually exclusive. I don’t see how I can both study hard and make sure I get out a lot and meet new people.”

  Papa guffawed. “Well, that’s because your mother isn’t sure what it is she wants for you—great magic or a good marriage. That last is something you can’t have here.”

  Part of her wanted to tell her father about Sav’s proposal. It would be a relief to have someone to talk to about it, but Papa would certainly not keep it a secret from Mama. Ailsa didn’t think this was the sort of thing she wanted to discuss with her mother. Not yet, anyway. That gown Mama had had made for her suggested that Mama would probably push her to accept Sav’s proposal. The one thing Ailsa was sure of was that she didn’t want anybody pushing her to make this decision before she was ready.

  Papa went on before she had a chance to say anything. “That’s because of my decisions. I’m sorry, Ailsa. I never thought at the time how my choices would constrain yours, how much of an outsider they would make you even here. I’m sorry for that.”

  “Well, Papa, if you hadn’t chosen Mama over political power, I wouldn’t even exist would I?”

  Papa smiled and leaned on the edge of Pearl’s stall. “It wasn’t only the choice to marry your mother. I could have chosen to fight the barons. I was already king and the emperor would have backed me. The Far Terran attitude toward mages has been a frustration to the Imperial government for decades.

  “But, by then, you were on the way, and I didn’t want to risk things turning bloody, which they might have. Of course, I never anticipated Ewart’s insecurities, either. The choice to abdicate didn’t guarantee your safety the way I’d hoped, after all.

  “But the Imperial capital is a different world, a world in which political power and magical power are not artificially separated. The Empress herself is a healer mage of some talent, I hear. If you think you can find happiness there, Ailsa, take it. Take it with both hands and don’t look back.”

  Ailsa threw her arms around her father. “I don’t think I could be happy anywhere but Far Terra.”

  He sighed. “I’m afraid we’ve made it impossible for you to be truly happy here.”

  Not necessarily. But Ailsa decided to keep that to herself for now. Both Mama and Papa seemed set on matchmaking for her. She’d rather take the time to consider her choice for herself. And, surely, Sav deserved to be the first one to know whatever she decided. That was the least she owed him.

  Chapter 4: The Desert

  Early the next morning, Ailsa gave each of her parents one last hug and turned to board the stagecoach that would take her to the imperial capital. It was a plain, functional coach that, from the visible wear, had made many trips across the desert. When she put her weight on the small folding step to climb in, the coach swayed alarmingly. Evidently, maintenance hadn’t included replacing the worn springs. Hopefully, the roads wouldn’t be too rough or this was going to be a very bumpy ride. The padding on the seats was thin, too. Ailsa sighed. It would have been faster and more comfortable just to ride Pearl all the way. She wouldn’t have had to share the cramped space with strangers, either.

  As soon as she was aboard, the four guards climbed up to the seats on the top of coach. Ailsa placed the smaller valise that held the things she’d need en route under her seat and leaned out of the window to wave goodbye one more time. She caught a glimpse of Sav at the back of the crowd, shoulders slumped. She couldn’t remember him looking quite so sad since his mother died, four years ago.<
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  She waved to him, but her palm itched to take his hand, touch his face, and tell him that it would be all right. She almost reached for the door latch before the coach started to move. No. She couldn’t go back. Not until she’d at least found out what kind of magic she had. She waved once more and sat back in her seat, resolving to write to Sav as soon as she arrived. That much, she could do. She’d already promised to write her parents to let them know that she’d arrived safely. It was time to look forward, not back.

  Ailsa had never traveled far before—and never alone or in a public conveyance. Papa could have sent her by private coach, but that might have been construed as an impolitic show of wealth and privilege. The public coach wouldn’t be as comfortable, but there were royal guards riding on top, so it should be, if anything, safer than a private carriage.

  Ailsa sat back and turned her attention to her fellow passengers. An elderly man had the seat next to Ailsa. He’d already leaned his head against the opposite wall of the coach, closed his eyes, and started to snore—loudly. A young girl sat across from Ailsa, apparently accompanied by the woman about Mama’s age sitting next to her.

  On the other side of the woman, sat a slightly younger man—too old to be her son and too young for her husband. From the distance between them on the bench, Ailsa didn’t think they were traveling together. His clothing and appearance would be consistent with a well-off merchant or maybe some distant relative of one of the barons. Nothing about him should be alarming except for his manner. His open, appraising stare made Ailsa want to pull the demure collar of her traveling dress closed in spite of the growing desert heat. Ailsa looked away. He had no business looking at her like that, but perhaps a closed coach wasn’t the best place to confront him about it. They were already as far apart as the coach permitted. It would be best to try to ignore him.

  Ailsa smiled uncertainly across at the woman and turned to look out her window. The road was wide enough for two coaches to pass each other going in opposite directions. Ailsa’s seat gave her a view on the outer side of the road, where a double row of sycamore trees shaded the highway from the desert sun. The trees weren’t thick enough to completely obscure the desert beyond.