I’d never lost that curiosity—but I had seen inside many windows since, and I’d learned that lives could be lived in thousands of ways, some in contentment, some not. A light inside didn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, I smiled wistfully to see them, remembering my first inkling that there could be something more to life than what I’d had at the time.
Zynda landed in a lightless field, while Kiraka circled high above. We’d all agreed the sight of Kral’s recently exiled self wouldn’t reassure anyone—and even he had seen the humor in that potential confrontation. Zynda slid flat onto her stomach in the grass, wings folded. Marskal looked over his shoulder at me. “Zynda says your arms are getting sore from all the climbing, and that’s she’s sorry, but this is the best she can do, short of dumping you off—which we think would hurt more.”
“Thank you, Zynda,” I said quietly, knowing she’d hear me. I shimmied down the ladder, waiting for Harlan. “Your shoulders aren’t sore?” I asked.
He grinned at me. “I work out a lot.”
“I do, too,” I grumbled. Just apparently not like that. “I bet my legs are stronger than yours.”
“With that deep-knee work you can do? No bet,” he replied amiably. “I’m happy to yield the point.”
We jogged across the darkened meadow. Guards would be coming to investigate the great thing that had landed, and we preferred to have that conversation at a good distance from Zynda herself. Harlan drew his broadsword, standing just before me and to my left, while I held my own sword in my right hand. “That’s far enough,” Harlan barked in Dasnarian command language, almost startling me, he sounded so much like the brutal guards I’d hated. He glanced at me and winked, and I relaxed a little.
Using my most regal tone of command, I called out, “Inform Prince Fredrick and Princessa Adaladja that Her Highness Imperial Princess Jenna has come to pay them a visit.” I nearly apologized for waking them in the middle of the night, but that would be out of character.
The men had halted, and their leader stilled in confusion. Their discipline was good, however, because he dispatched a man to carry the message, then held his ground. “Apologies for the lack of courtesy, Your Imperial Highness,” he said, not bowing or taking his eyes off of us, “as we wait for instruction.”
We waited, and I used meditative breathing to keep from pacing nervously. If they refused to come, or if they didn’t believe the message and gave orders for us to be repelled—or did believe and nobly sought to rid the empire of a pair of exiled rebel Konyngrrs—we’d be in for trouble.
A turmoil at the castle gates, then a figure running over the lit drawbridge, colorful silks streaming. She barreled toward us, skidding to a halt on bare feet. Princessa Adaladja, a little older—like I was—but very much as she’d looked all those years ago. “Jenna,” she breathed, then launched herself at me, heedless of my naked sword.
She embraced me in a fierce hug, chanting my name, then pulled back to frame my face in her hands. “It is you! I just knew you’d escaped. I never once believed those stories that you’d died. Look at you! See, Fredrick,” she called to the approaching prince. “I told you she got away—and that she’d return in triumph.”
“I’m not certain that appearing in a darkened meadow in Robsyn counts as triumph, Ada sweetheart,” he remarked dryly as he approached, his hair entirely silver now, instead of threaded with it, as it had been back then, “but we welcome you, Your Imperial Highness. I think,” he added, making a question of it—and looking Harlan over, not recognizing him, but no doubt catching the family resemblance.
“I completely understand your hesitation,” I said, “and if you prefer we leave without troubling you further, we will.”
“You will not,” Ada said fiercely, clutching my arms as if she’d bodily prevent me from going. “I couldn’t help you then, Your Imperial Highness, but you wouldn’t be here now if you weren’t ready to ask for it.”
“Thank you.” I took her hands and gripped them, speaking with all the fervency of words waiting to be spoken for decades. “You were the first and almost only person to offer me help. I didn’t thank you then. I hope you understand that I wasn’t capable of it, but you offering that help started my feet on a path to freedom.”
Tears brightened her eyes in the flickering light of the torches their escort carried. “I’m so glad, Your Imperial Highness.”
“No title, not anymore.” I smiled at her and Fredrick. “I go by the name Ivariel now, and this is my brother, Harlan.”
Fredrick jerked, staring at Harlan again. “Harlan Konyngrr. Also missing these last two decades. The eldest and the youngest of old Einarr’s legitimate heirs, long exiled, and now returned.” He shook his head. “Thus begin the end times.”
“Oh, don’t be so superstitious, Freddie,” Ada said. “We welcome you also, Harlan. Won’t you both come in? We’ll rouse the kitchens to feed you, then you can sleep.” She peered past me into the darkness. “Along with your entourage, if you have one. Do you have horses?”
“It’s a very long story, but no. And we cannot linger. If possible, however, could I purchase three klúts from you, along with suitable accessories?”
She blinked at me, completely taken aback. Oh right—I shouldn’t be handling money at all, nor should I be offering to buy what my rank as part of the imperial family entitled me to take. “Of course I can give you several klúts, and appropriate jewelry,” she replied, recovering admirably.
“Suitable for the Imperial Palace,” I told her. We had to be able to blend in for at least a short time.
“Not a problem.” She beckoned to a younger man and sent him running back across the moat bridge.
“Other than that,” I continued, “all we ask is the use of your meadow for the night—and your discretion.”
“Of course, we—” Ada began.
“Discretion can be interpreted as treachery, depending on whose secrets one is keeping,” Fredrick put in, laying an admonishing hand on Ada’s shoulder. “Giving clothes to passing strangers is one thing. I cannot in good conscience blindly agree to something that might put Robsyn and our people at risk,” he told her more gently. “We have responsibilities to our kingdom as well.”
“I understand.” I briefly debated how much to tell them. “We intend to depose Hestar,” I said baldly. Harlan didn’t flinch, but his eyes caught the light as he glanced at me. Yes, I wasn’t sure this was a good idea either. But they wouldn’t be able to send a message to the Imperial Palace faster than we could fly there, and if we didn’t succeed tonight, then we’d either be dead or have to develop another plan anyway.
Ada had clasped her hands together, watching Fredrick with hope in her face. He looked more agonized than anything. Fisting his hands on his hips, he stared at the ground for several long moments, then let out a long sigh. “The end times, indeed.”
“Hestar has been aggressively attacking other realms,” Harlan put in gravely. “And he is corrupt. He and the dowager empress have been trafficking with the Temple of Deyrr to consolidate and extend their power. We don’t wish to end the empire, only the authoritarian tyranny that is rotting its core.”
“Deyrr.” Fredrick growled the name, watch Harlan somberly, thinking hard, while Ada shot him a sorrowful look. “Then the rumors are true,” he said quietly, flicking a glance at his wife. “And, yes, I know you said so.”
“I didn’t want it to be true,” she told him, laying a hand on his arm. “You’re so good that it’s hard for you to imagine evil in others.”
“A pretty compliment,” he said, but without rancor, covering her hand with his. “I have taken oaths of loyalty to the emperor, however. I cannot aid you in this, no matter how I might feel personally.”
And there it was. We’d have to find another landing spot. “I understand. I wouldn’t ask you to betray an oath.”
“Your oaths would include stopping us,” Harlan pointed out, “now that you are aware of our plan.”
Fredrick gave him a
narrow smile. “Am I? I don’t see how I could know anything. Nobody goes in that meadow at night,” he added, raising his voice to the small group of guards and retainers. “I appreciate your vigilance in calling us out here. No fault of yours that it was a false alarm. You can all return to your duties with easy minds, knowing we saw and heard nothing.”
“Sir!” The men shouted as one, saluting.
“You are a good man, Fredrick.” Ada kissed him on the cheek, then turned to embrace me once more. “Good luck,” she whispered. “I know you’ll succeed. And afterward, perhaps we can be friends.”
“We always have been.” I hugged her back, then bowed to Fredrick. “Thank you, Prince Fredrick. You are a good man, and a good ruler. And a good husband,” I added. “Hearing that Ada loved and trusted you, so long ago—that was the first time I understood that such marriages were possible. If it’s in my power to reward you, I will.”
A young woman dashed out of the castle, barefoot and carrying a satchel. She gave it to Ada, who quickly checked the contents, then handed it to me. “I wish I could do more.”
“You’ve done what was needed, and that’s everything.”
Harlan bowed, too, then shook Fredrick’s hand. “I offer my thanks also—and hope for fruitful future alliances.”
We walked back into the moonless night to where Zynda and Marskal waited, and told Zynda to give the go ahead for Kiraka to land.
~ 12 ~
“I never thought I’d have to put on one of these things again,” Jepp groused, “unless for sex play, anyway. And then I just kind of drape it on long enough for Kral to take off again.”
“They’re not so bad,” Karyn commented. “Hold still, though.”
“I have my outfit from before, you know, back on the Hákyrling,” Jepp continued. “Inga and Helva had it made for me. I could fight in that. I still don’t see why I couldn’t wear it.”
“Because everyone remembers it,” Karyn replied patiently. “You stand out enough as it is. And if you’d hold still for three breaths instead of bitching, I would’ve been done already.”
“I liked you better when you were all humble and apologetic,” Jepp replied.
“No you didn’t.” Karyn sounded amused and not at all offended. Their voices drifted to me from a short distance away. The guys had convened in a circle lit by the glow of Zynda’s and Kiraka’s eyes, consulting on their plans and giving us the privacy of darkness to change into the klúts Ada had given us. I couldn’t see the color, but the fine texture of the embroidered silk revealed their rich quality—and snagged on my hands, no longer those of a lady of leisure, but callused from years of working with harness and weapons.
Once I’d had an entire room devoted to my klúts, the finest an empire could provide for their priceless pearl. “I never thought to don one again either,” I said, then swallowed my pride. “And I’m afraid I need help, too, Karyn.”
“Be right there,” she replied.
“Been over twenty years, huh?” Jepp commented. “Enough time to forget old habits.”
A good excuse she offered me, but… “I’m chagrined to confess I never dressed myself,” I said. “I thought maybe I could remember, but it’s not working out.”
“Seriously?” Jepp sounded incredulous. “I know you were pampered and all, but who doesn’t know how to dress herself?”
“An imperial princess,” Karyn answered her sharply. “Don’t be so judgmental.”
“I’m not! I’m really not, Ivariel.” She sounded stricken.
“It’s all right,” I reassured her. Karyn came to me and took the long banner of silk from my hands, sorting its folds by feel. “I was pampered, and beyond ignorant. When I escaped, I wore men’s clothes that Harlan had acquired. They hung off me, and—because of them and because I’d cut my hair off short—I thought I looked like a boy.”
“I’ll have to touch you,” Karyn said, silently voicing my title, asking permission, and apologizing all at once.
“That’s fine,” I replied mildly. It felt odd to stand naked in the darkness—one wears nothing under a klút—as Karyn wound the silk firmly around my waist and hips, then over my rib cage and bosom, before adding the looser, more elaborate outer folds. The sensation took me back viscerally to that girl I’d been, the thousands of times I’d stood placidly while my servant girls dressed me in lengths of silk I’d wear for maybe a day and never again. I hadn’t had any idea what went into weaving that material, the careful cultivation of the silk worms, and the countless hours of painstaking work to make thread and then fabric. And that was before the embroidering.
I’d gone through in a few hours the product of a year of another woman’s life and thought nothing of it. Since then, I’d learned. Much as Ochieng complained about the rainy season, that’s when we’d spend our days indoors, when Zalaika and Ochieng’s sisters and brothers had taught me the skills necessary to our lives. I’d learned to spin thread and to weave, as well as to carve wood, both for necessities and to make art. My son and daughters had grown up learning those things, too—and they’d grown up together. I’d been fiercely glad to see my daughters riding elephants and learning to fight alongside my son.
And yet, somewhere along the way I’d forgotten, too. Forgotten about the suffocating silk and life of enforced indolence that led to petty selfishness. I’d spared them that, if nothing else.
“There,” Karyn said, patting the last fold into place to drape over my shoulder. “Though you should probably take your hair down,” she added hesitantly. “I have a comb—I can do it for you. I’m taking mine down.”
“Good idea.” We walked back to the circle of light. Of course I’d have to take down my braids. The style would look far too foreign. But it also gave me a pang. Kajala had done the braiding for me, interweaving the obsidian and copper jewelry I’d acquired over the years.
We stepped into the light and all four men looked up. Kral eyed Jepp with a decidedly lustful glint and she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t start with me. We don’t have time and I’m still mad at you.”
Sorting through the jewelry, we added ear bangles, necklaces, anklets and arm bands.
“With your permission?” Karyn asked, holding the comb, and I nodded. She began extracting my Nyamburan hair jewelry, placing the pieces in my cupped palms, unraveling the braids. Harlan watched with an odd expression, as I exchanged my Nyamburan self for the Dasnarian one. Jenna coming ever nearer to the surface.
“I hadn’t seen the traditional Dasnarian garb for women before,” Marskal commented. “They’re quite beautiful.”
“Dasnarian women are committed to being decorative,” I commented in a wry tone and Karyn snorted softly. She combed out the last of my braids, and I went to Harlan, holding out the hair jewelry. “Would you keep these for me? I don’t have pockets now.”
He accepted the handful gravely, eyes never straying from me as he stowed them in a bag on his belt. “You look…” His voice broke off and he didn’t finish. Clearing his throat, he said he needed a moment, and strode off into the darkness.
Bemused, I turned to find Kral staring after Harlan’s back. Transferring his gaze to me, he smiled sadly. “You look very much like you did, back then. With your hair down and in that color.” He gestured vaguely.
Looking down, I realized that, by some fluke of hlyti, I wore a pale color, possibly ivory or white. They’d dressed me in exclusively those shades for my wedding festivities, to emphasize my pale skin and notable hair. And I’d worn diamonds and pearls. My stomach turned and I wondered if I needed a moment alone in the night, too.
“I’ll talk to him,” Kral said, following after Harlan, so I stayed where I was.
“Here,” Jepp said, bringing over some leather straps. “I’ve got some thigh sheaths you can borrow. They don’t show under the klút, if you’re careful.”
She helped me strap them on, showing me how to secure them. I sheathed my blades, practicing the draw. As we did, Karyn went to Zyr and turned her b
ack. He untied the ribbon holding her braid, then held it out to her. With a smile more intimate than seemed relevant to the gesture, she tied the ribbon around his wrist, then handed him the comb. His expression reverent, he combed out her hair, speaking quietly enough that I couldn’t hear, but her blush gave the content away.
“I’d like to find a place for this one,” Jepp commented, casually twirling a heftier blade than her usual paired daggers, “but it’s too big to conceal. Guess I’ll have to give it to Kral to hold for me. Again.”
She sounded so aggrieved that I paused in practicing with my blades to look at the one she fussed with, then froze. “Where did you get that?” I demanded, the black red of Jenna’s rising inner demon edging around my vision. The red rage Harlan had called it.
Jepp eyed me warily, a bit indignant. “It was my mother’s.”
Oh. Oh, right. Of course it wasn’t the same blade. It made sense that Kaja had more than one like it. I needed to get a grip. The past kept overtaking the present in unexpected ways.
“Seen a ghost?” Jepp asked, not without sympathy. “Mom probably had it with her when you knew her. Kaedrin brought it to me after Mom died.”
“Kaja had at least two of them,” I said, feeling a bit calmer. Jepp had a steadying influence with her practicality, not unlike her mother. “Because Kaedrin sent one just like this to me also, after Kaja died, with a message from Kaja that I should plant it where it belonged.”
Jepp frowned, spinning the blade thoughtfully. “Cryptic. Did you know what she meant?”
I laughed without humor. “I did. And when my late ex-husband came after me, I planted it in his heart. So far as I know, it lies there still.”
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