by Sera Trevor
As soon as they left, Rotheld appeared as if by magic. Jasen supposed it wasn’t that surprising—no doubt the whole palace had heard of what happened. But Rotheld did not pepper him with questions, for which Jasen was grateful. He helped him out of his clothes and drew a bath, and then left him alone at last. Jasen did his best to relax, but he had a feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.
It was still dark outside when Risyda came for Jasen, pounding at his door until he crawled blearily out of his bed, put on his dressing gown, and answered it.
“What is it?” he asked sleepily. She also only wore a dressing gown. She was holding her hand up beside her—gentle flames glowed at her fingertips, lighting the dark hallway. Jasen started to get worried. “Has something happened?”
“Not yet, but it’s about to. Don’t bother getting dressed. We need to get to Polina before everyone else is up.”
“What do you mean ‘get to her’? You aren’t going to hurt her, are you?”
“Much as I am tempted, no. But like I said, she needs to know that she can’t keep doing this. If you don’t want the king involved, that means it’s up to us.”
Jasen bit his lip. This wasn’t going to be fun. “All right. Let’s go.”
They moved through the hallways as quietly as possible, all too soon reaching Polina’s door. Risyda pulled a key from a pocket in her gown. “Courtesy of Larely,” she said as she slipped it into the lock. They went through the door and shut it behind them.
Polina, unsurprisingly, was still asleep. Risyda grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of bed. She went crashing to the floor.
“Rise and shine, Princess,” Risyda said, prodding her with her foot. This was already getting more intense than Jasen was comfortable with.
Polina looked up blearily at them from the floor. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”
“Take a guess.”
“I-I’m sure I don’t know,” she said. She didn’t look well—there were bags under her eyes, and her whole face was puffy.
“So who did you get to do it? How much did you have to pay? Curses don’t come cheap, but I suppose that isn’t a problem for you.”
“I didn’t—I didn’t—” But she couldn’t finish the sentence, instead bursting into tears.
“The king considers it an attack on Lord Jasen. He wants to see you dragged in front of a court and banished.”
Polina cried harder. “Oh, no—please, no! I didn’t want him to be hurt.” She turned her teary gaze to Jasen. “Were you injured? You’re all right, aren’t you?”
Risyda cut in before Jasen could answer. “Stop acting like you care about anything other than your own miserable hide!”
But that wasn’t true—Jasen did feel sorry for her. He put a hand on Risyda’s shoulder. “I think maybe I should handle this,” he said quietly.
Jasen was afraid for a moment that Risyda wasn’t going to listen to him, but after a moment, she relented. “Fine.”
Jasen turned to Polina. “Why don’t you sit down on the sofa while I get you a handkerchief?”
She gave him a bewildered look. “A handkerchief?”
He smiled at her. “It will be hard to talk if you have the sniffles. Where do you keep them?”
“In my bedside table,” she said, still sounding a little dazed. He didn’t blame her—it had to be confusing going from being screamed at to having someone offer you a hanky. Jasen went to her bedside table and opened the drawer. Sure enough, there were some neatly folded handkerchiefs. He took one and brought it over to the sofa, handing it to Polina. She accepted it with a confused expression. “Thank you,” she said hesitantly.
“You’re welcome.”
Jasen sat down beside Polina while Risyda remained standing, towering over them. “You are extremely lucky that Jasen is too kind for his own good. He’s the only thing standing between you and the king’s justice.”
“You didn’t tell him?” Polina asked. “Why?”
“Because I believe you,” he said, giving Risyda a pointed look. She crossed her arms with a huff. “I don’t think you truly meant to hurt me. I expect you only meant to embarrass me. But Polina, these stunts have to stop.”
Polina laughed miserably into her handkerchief. “Oh, of course. The only one allowed to pull stunts around here is you.”
Jasen sighed in exasperation. “I don’t pull stunts!”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. You’ve done nothing else since the moment you got here. Wandering half-naked into the draemir, sneaking off to play that ridiculous mudball game with his children, pretending you couldn’t ride and crashing into a tree so that the king would have to rescue you…”
Jasen blinked—how had she known about the mudball? “None of those were ‘stunts,’ I promise you.”
Polina sneered at him. “So you just accidentally ensnared him with your country boy charms. I find that hard to believe.”
“I’ve told you before—this isn’t a game to me, and it shouldn’t be to you, either! You have many fine qualities—” Risyda let out a loud scoff at that, but Jasen ignored her. “I’m sure you could find love if you stopped treating this as a competition.”
“But I have found love,” she said, her lip quivering. “I love the king.” And then she wept into her handkerchief again.
Jasen had no idea what to say. It had never crossed his mind that she had actual feelings for Rilvor. He’d always thought that she just wanted the biggest prize and figured the king was it. “You love him?”
She wiped her eyes. “Yes. I fell in love with him the last year. One day, I was on a walk through the gardens and I saw him there, sitting at a fountain, all alone. I could tell he had just been crying. Oh, he has such a tender heart, to still be weeping for his wife! And so I offered him my handkerchief, and he thanked me and invited me to sit down. And we talked for a while—I can hardly remember about what. He is so handsome, and so kind—not like all the lords and ladies who come through here, looking for a bride to buy. And he gave me my handkerchief back and told me that I had been a comfort to him.” She smiled dreamily to herself. “I have kept that kerchief ever since. I sleep with it every night.” Then she seemed to remember Jasen’s presence, and her smile turned into a scowl. “Minister Adwig told me he was certain the king would choose me. And then you came along and spoiled everything!”
Jasen wasn’t sure what to say. He believed that the encounter had happened, but he highly doubted that it had meant as much to Rilvor as it had to her.
Before he could think of an answer, Risyda butted in. “And from that encounter you decided he must be desperately in love with you? He probably doesn’t even remember it.”
“I’m sure he does!”
“So I assume you talked about it when you had your audience with him.”
Polina hesitated. “Not as such, but I’m sure he was thinking about it too! He was so kind to me—”
“He’s kind to everyone. You aren’t special. You mean nothing to him—and I don’t think he means anything to you, either. You’ve always been ambitious, ever since we were girls. You want to marry a king. That’s all that matters to you—you’ve made that very clear!”
Polina let out a nasty laugh. “I know it must be hard to imagine caring about something, since you care about nothing. You always thought you were so much better than everyone else, so above it all, even though you’re only a merchant’s daughter and should be grateful you were even allowed in!”
“Trust me, I’m not any happier about it than you are.”
“Then why are you still here? If you hate it so much, then leave. No one’s stopping you.”
Risyda seemed taken aback. For once, she didn’t have anything to say.
Polina scoffed. “I know why you don’t want to leave. If you went back to your father’s house, you would have no one to feel superior to.”
Risyda’s face had gone red. There was smoke coming out of her fingertips. “That isn’t true!”
“So you don’t think you’re better than me?”
Surprisingly, Risyda’s expression softened. “Not when we were younger, when we skipped out of school to go playing in the forest, or when we played jokes on the tutors, or when we would sneak into each others’ room at night and spend the whole time playing games and sharing secrets.” She wiped at her eye with her sleeve. “But then you came back one year a complete stranger. Whatever happened to Polly?”
A few more tears rolled down Polina’s cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s still playing with Rizzy somewhere. She seems to have gone missing, too.”
Rizzy? Jasen thought, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate it because now both of the girls were weeping and Jasen had no idea how to handle it. He ran over to the bedside table and got a handkerchief for Risyda, who accepted it. Jasen stood there helplessly as they both continued to cry.
Just when he was about to suggest a hug, Risyda wiped her nose and spoke again. “Are you going to stop this foolishness now?”
Polina shook her head. “Would you give up on true love?”
Risyda’s expression hardened. Whatever tender moment they had shared was over now. “It’s not true love.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel!”
Jasen put a hand on Risyda’s arm. “We said our piece. We should go.”
Risyda shrugged him off and went over to Polina, leaning in until their faces were inches apart. “If you ever think about trying something like that again, I will personally see to it that you lose everything. The king loves Jasen, not you.” With that, she marched out of the room.
Jasen took one last look at the weeping Polina before he followed Risyda, shutting the door behind him. The hallway was now lit dimly by the first rays of the sunlight of the day coming in through the windows. Risyda was walking so fast that Jasen nearly had to jog to keep up with her long strides. “You have to tell the king,” she said in a harsh whisper.
After seeing Polina so miserable, he was more reluctant than ever to put her through that. “I can’t—I think it would kill her,” Jasen whispered back. “She was your friend once—don’t you have any pity for her?”
Risyda stopped abruptly and whirled around to face him. “Do you think it’s merciful to let her continue on in her delusions?” she said as she struggled to keep her voice low. “The king will never love her, and she’ll never accept it unless someone forces her to. And if we don’t force her, then she will continue until she destroys both you and herself!”
“And how will it look when she’s dragged off?” Jasen shot back. “It will look like I’m using my relationship with the king to get rid of people I don’t like. Have you considered that?”
“Everyone saw what happened with the shoes.”
“Did they? What if they thought I was faking it? I am sure that Polina is not alone in thinking that I pull ‘stunts’ for attention.”
“Why do you care what they think?”
“Because if I become king consort, it will be my job!”
They both stopped talking as the weight of that statement sunk in. Jasen even felt a little lightheaded as the weight of the situation hit him.
“Has he proposed?” Risyda asked at last.
Jasen shook his head. “No. But he will.” He leaned back against the wall and rubbed his face. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”
Risyda gave him a small smile. “I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.”
He smacked her in the arm, which made her laugh. They both froze when they heard noise coming from down the hall—the servants were probably up by now. “We should get back to our rooms,” he said.
Risyda nodded. “But don’t think this discussion is over. You have to take Polina seriously.”
She was right, but he didn’t feel like talking about it anymore at the moment. “Why don’t we talk about it after breakfast? I could use a little kara weed.”
It was too dim to see properly, but Jasen could have sworn that her cheeks colored. “I can’t. I’m going riding.”
Jasen stared at her. “What, with that lady you were dancing with?”
“I couldn’t very well say no,” she scowled. “It’s supposedly the reason why I’m here, isn’t it?”
“Did you want to say no?”
There was some more noise at the end of the hallway—the castle was definitely waking up. “Later,” Risyda said.
There was more noise, so they quickly parted, going to their respective rooms. Once Jasen was safely inside, he crawled back into bed. Rotheld would no doubt be here shortly, but he didn’t want to face the day yet. He knew that Risyda was right—but he knew that he was right as well. There had to be some solution that split the difference, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what it could be.
Chapter 11
The atmosphere was much changed, now that the suitors had arrived. The tedium of lessons was finally over—only to be replaced by the frenzy of courtship. The invitations came flooding in the morning after the ball. Almost everyone got at least one, with many receiving several. They all talked excitedly over breakfast, waving the papers at each other. Jasen, of course, hadn’t received any, because who would dare court the king’s favorite? But he was enjoying the excitement of the rest of them. He eavesdropped on Polina’s group, who seemed to have done well for themselves. Banither held one invitation dramatically against his breast, declaring that its writer was his truest lady love already. Lalan had a large stack, which she kept patting as she giggled with delight. Polina appeared to receive several as well, which she had dutifully brought to breakfast. But she was pale, and her smile was thin. Jasen knew Risyda would be annoyed with him if he said so, but he did feel sorry for her, in spite of everything. He believed her when she said she was in love with Rilvor. He hoped she was at least entertaining alternate suitors, because this was the last year she would be admitted. Surely she had to realize that the king was a long shot and she needed to make back-up arrangements?
Jasen shook his head and returned his attention to the consorts sitting closer to him. When Jasen had entered the dining hall, a hush had fallen over the crowd, but that was something he was used to. But for once, everyone had more pressing, personal matters to hold their attention, and conversation had begun again quickly. Jasen fielded a few questions inquiring after his health. He offered his congratulations to the triumphant, and words of encouragement to those who were still waiting. It was pleasant enough, but what he really wanted was a conversation with a real friend. However, Risyda had yet to make an appearance. As the minutes ticked by, Jasen started to get concerned.
Breakfast finished, and still Risyda hadn’t come, which made his worry worse. Jasen made his way to her room. He knocked on the door. “Risyda? Are you in there?”
The door opened a moment later. Risyda grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. To his surprise, she wasn’t even dressed yet, wearing only a dressing gown, although her hair was arranged. For all of the scorn she heaped on the entire concept of the Court, she was never dressed any less than her best. It wasn’t like her at all.
“Are you all right? What’s the matter?”
She gestured over to her vanity. “See for yourself.”
Jasen picked up a piece of paper lying by her mirror. He scanned it briefly. “It’s an invitation from Lady Wesor.” He looked up at her. “This is what has you so upset? Why?”
“Why? Why? How can you even ask me that?”
“It seemed like you were getting on with her quite well last night.”
“But that’s just the problem! I was!” She began to pace.
Jasen’s brow was so furrowed that it was giving him a headache. “If you like her, then I don’t understand the problem.”
“The problem is right now, at this very moment, I must make a decision as to whether I want to spend my entire life with this woman.” She gestured wildly. “This is insane—I barely even know her!”
�
�Isn’t that the point of courting?”
“How well can anyone get to know someone over the course of a month? It’s impossible!”
“You could always turn her down, you know.”
She stopped pacing and looked straight at him. “But that’s just the thing. I can’t. Out of all of the suitors I’ve met, she’s the only one I’ve ever even considered. I went on two outings with her last year before refusing to see her again—not because I didn’t like her, but because I wasn’t ready to get married. I’m still not ready. But this is my last year here. If I don’t marry her, then it’s back to my father’s.” She collapsed onto her sofa, her head buried in the crook of her arm. Was she…crying?
Jasen sat down beside her and put a hand gingerly on her back. He had no idea what to say. She was always the sensible one between the two of them, but now she was coming unraveled, and he had no idea how to ravel her up again. “Would you like some kara weed?”
She lifted her head out of her arm for a moment. Her eyes seemed a bit moist, but there weren’t any tears on her cheeks. “That is an excellent idea.”
Jasen got the pipe set up. After a few puffs, Risyda’s posture relaxed. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t apologize. I’m usually the one in hysterics. It’s only fair that you should get a turn.”
She laughed bleakly. “What am I going to do? It’s true that I like Lady Wesor—but I don’t love her. And I don’t think a few horseback rides and walks around the garden are going to change that.”
“No one can force you to get married.”
“Maybe not. But what on earth have I been doing with my life if I don’t? I always put off thinking about it, stalling for time. But my time is up now. I won’t be welcomed back for Court.” Risyda took another long drag. She puffed out the smoke in the shape of a heart, followed by another puff in the shape of an arrow. The arrow pierced the heart, causing both of the shapes to dissipate. “I pretend I don’t care. I do think Court is ridiculous—but I also envy those who have a clear goal. They have a shot at finding happiness. But how can I be happy when I don’t know what I want?”