by Effie Calvin
If Esofi was allowed to set up her university, she would dedicate it to Talcia. Perhaps that would cause the goddess’s attention to finally turn back to Ieflaria. It would take some time, but once Talcia began granting her magic to the Ieflarians, they would be able to hold their own against the dragons.
Esofi looked out the window at the gardens below. If she was lucky, she might be able to find some night-blooming flowers to leave as a fresh offering at her small altar. Of course, there was also the large offering she planned to make at the Great Temple of Iolar in gratitude for their safe journey, but that was more of a business transaction, akin to the large sum she had paid to the Mer for their protection when she sailed from Rho Dianae to Gennelet. Iolar was the patron of regents and lawmakers everywhere, and so Esofi knew she must make the appropriate offerings to him. But Esofi’s family had always been closer to Talcia.
If she hadn’t been waiting on Queen Saski’s invitation, Esofi might have gone in search of the chapel right then. She had always felt comforted in temples, so near to the gods.
Queen Saski’s summons came soon enough, though, delivered by Countess Amala herself. Esofi regretted that the invitation was for her alone. She would have liked to have her ladies nearby to assess Crown Princess Adale for themselves, though logic told her that Lisette would be in the garden somewhere.
Amala linked their elbows together in a shockingly familiar gesture—apparently the people of Ieflaria saw no shame in touching one another—as she led Esofi into the gardens. It was a lovely, bright day with the sun warming the grass and colorful springtime flowers in bloom. Gardeners were at work quietly, their fingertips occasionally shimmering with the green magic of Eyvindr as they coaxed open blossoms and rejuvenated dying plants.
Out on the grass, under a cloth pavilion, a table had been set for three. Queen Saski was already seated, talking to a servant. Esofi curtsied as she approached, and Saski smiled brightly.
“Sit, my dear,” she said, gesturing to the chair nearest to herself. Esofi passed her parasol to the servant and began the careful process of seating herself without harming her dress.
“I am sorry to say my daughter has yet to show herself today,” confided Queen Saski with a deep sigh. “I hope you do not take offense. She is… she has been having a bit of a difficult time since…”
“I understand,” said Esofi.
“Still, I expect her to make an appearance soon.” Queen Saski looked distinctly unhappy. “Perhaps you can tame her. Iolar knows I can’t.”
A servant filled Esofi’s teacup.
“I hope your journey here wasn’t too unpleasant,” Saski continued. “The dragons… they are a pestilence. Many of our couriers have left the country altogether, and the few that still consent to fly charge exorbitant prices.”
The couriers were operated by the Temple of Nara, and their blessing was one of the most enviable in all the world. Each had been born with a pair of enormous feathered wings emerging from their shoulder blades, large and powerful enough to allow flight. Couriers traveled across entire continents, carrying messages and enjoying unparalleled freedom. But despite their blessing, they were still Men, and stood little chance against a dragon. Esofi could not blame them for leaving.
“The dragons troubled our traveling caravan at first,” Esofi said. “I believe it is because they smelled my dowry. But we drove them back—it was not difficult, with so many battlemages.”
“So I have heard,” said Saski, her face lighting with a smile. “I cannot tell you what it has meant to our people to see your mages fighting against the dragons and winning so easily. We have had such tales from the south these past weeks.”
Esofi laughed. “I am sure most of them are wild exaggerations.”
“Maybe so, but if it gives my subjects hope, I will not ask you to correct them,” Saski said. Then she sighed. “I think this year alone has been worse than the past four combined. If this issue is not resolved soon, our people will begin to panic. The Order of the Sun does have a strong presence here, but their magic is primarily defensive. The battlemages you brought us will make all the difference, I am certain.”
“Regarding the battlemages,” said Esofi. “I wonder if I might make a proposal to you? I have had much time to think during the journey, and I believe I’ve come up with an idea that will protect us for many generations to come.”
But Queen Saski never had the chance to respond, because that was when a long shadow fell across the table and the Crown Princess Adale decided to put in an appearance.
Adale was a tall, lanky woman with an oval face and a thin nose. She wore her long, dark hair in a pair of braids that had been allowed to swing free, rather than being pinned up. Here and there, curls had escaped to cradle her face or occasionally stick straight up in the air. She was dressed in what had once been a lovely silver gown in the Ieflarian style but now was covered in grass stains.
Esofi’s fingers gave an involuntary little twitch. She’d left her prayer beads in her room.
“Adale!” Queen Saski sounded more exhausted than scandalized. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting—”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” retorted Adale.
Esofi rose from her seat abruptly and sank into a formal curtsy. “My lady, I am pleased to meet you at last.”
Adale did not respond immediately. She seemed to be at a loss. Then she slouched into a chair and pulled a tray of sandwiches toward herself. Esofi returned to her seat at a more sedate pace, wondering if it would be most advantageous to turn the conversation back to her proposal for the university or attempt to engage with Adale.
“Where have you been this morning, Adale?” asked Queen Saski.
Adale answered with a shrug.
“It must have been important, since you kept your new bride waiting for nearly half an hour.”
“I thought I’d give her a chance to run away,” said Adale.
Saski snatched the sandwich from her daughter’s hand. “Can you be serious for a moment? I realize I let you and your brother run wild, and now I’m paying the price for it. I’d hoped your role in Albion’s death would cause you to wake up—”
Adale slammed her hands down on the table, knocking over all the teacups. Esofi completely failed to bite back a scream at the suddenness of it. Servants were beside her immediately with a hand fan and towels.
“My role?” Adale cried. “Are you blaming me?”
“That is not what I said,” replied Queen Saski.
“But it’s what you meant, isn’t it?”
Nobody said anything for a long moment.
Queen Saski gritted her teeth together. “Adale,” she said in a very strained voice, “you’ve gone and spilled the tea.”
“I don’t care about your tea, I—” Adale glanced over at Esofi, who was still being desperately fanned by a servant, and seemed to come to her senses. Without another word, she began quietly righting the dishes she had knocked over.
“There is to be a hunt tomorrow on the castle hunting grounds,” said Adale at last. “You are welcome to join us, Princess.”
“Tomorrow?” Esofi hesitated as she thought of all that still needed to be done, weighing it against the prospect of making a good impression on Adale. “I apologize, but I cannot. I’ve still not visited the temple, and—”
“Don’t worry,” said Adale. “I know you just got here. Maybe next time.”
“Yes,” said Esofi. “Certainly the next time.”
Queen Saski made a soft noise of exasperation. “All the hunts you children go on, it’s a wonder there’s a single stag left in those woods. We’ll be shipping them in from the countryside soon enough.”
“Perhaps we can bring in a boar, then,” suggested Adale.
“By Iolar.” Queen Saski pressed one hand over her heart.
“Have you ever hunted boar?” Adale asked Esofi.
Esofi shook her head. She had been on many hunts, of course, but had left the baser aspects of it to those w
ho were inclined.
“It is too bad that the dragons have made it so difficult to travel,” said Adale wistfully. “Theodoar and I were hoping to visit Vesolda—it’s said they hunt bear. Can you imagine?”
“I wouldn’t like to,” said Queen Saski.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not so bad as that,” reassured Adale. “They wouldn’t do it if the danger were too great.”
Esofi breathed a small laugh. “You are as Albion described.”
“What?” Adale looked puzzled.
“Prince Albion often spoke of you in his letters,” Esofi explained. “We corresponded frequently for many years.”
“I had no idea.” Adale seemed stunned. “He wrote of me? What did he say?”
“I do not wish to do his words injustice,” murmured Esofi, “but perhaps we shall peruse them together someday. I have all but a few saved. I regret that I lost the early ones. I was young and careless.”
“I would like that.” Adale’s face went so oddly soft that she almost looked like a different person entirely. “Thank you.”
Esofi nodded and looked at her gloves.
“How are you liking Ieflaria so far?” asked Adale, who suddenly appeared to have a legitimate interest in her. “You came northward from Gennelet, didn’t you? You got to see some of our best farmland.”
“It’s all so large compared to Rhodia,” said Esofi. “And flat too—almost like the sea at rest. It feels strange to look to the distance and see no mountains.”
“Did you frequently go to the mountains?” asked Adale.
“If we tried to avoid them, the entire population would be confined to a rather small space,” explained Esofi. “Even Rho Dianae is built onto a mountainside. I shall miss being so near to the moon and stars.” She already missed the beautiful white marble palace that had been her home, even though she had spent her entire life preparing to leave it behind.
“I can’t imagine that’s very much fun to farm,” observed Adale.
“You must forgive my daughter,” Queen Saski interrupted. “She’s apparently learned nothing from her tutors.”
“It’s quite all right,” Esofi reassured them both. Then for Adale’s benefit, she added, “Rhodia does very little planting—our soil is weak, and only the hardiest of plants will grow in it. We do have our herdsmen and our hunters and our fishermen, but most of our crops are imported from Xytae.”
“Ah, to have an ocean between ourselves and Emperor Ionnes,” murmured Queen Saski. Though the Xytan Empire was no longer the unstoppable force that it had been so many centuries ago, it still maintained a formidable army. They had never made any indication that they planned to march upon Ieflaria, and they were currently occupied with a campaign in Masim, but Esofi knew that could change at a moment’s notice.
“Our primary exports come from our mines and quarries,” Esofi explained to Adale. “Emperor Ionnes does so love our white marble, and we are fond of his granaries. Still, I am glad for the distance between our lands.”
The sandwiches were ruined, so the meeting came to a premature end. And perhaps it was Esofi’s imagination, but Adale seemed not quite so unhappy as she’d been before as they said their farewells.
As Esofi was leaving the gardens, Lisette came to meet her. She had a large, unnervingly artificial smile upon her face.
“There is a man watching you,” she managed to say through her smile. “He has been standing behind the rose bushes the entire time.”
“How lovely that sounds,” Esofi responded warmly.
“He is Theodoar of Leikr, the son of the Marquis of Leikr.” Lisette’s voice was nearly inaudible, but the long journey together had taught Esofi how to listen for it. “The crown princess entered the garden with him, and he waits for her now.”
“It is to be expected,” Esofi said loudly, waving her hand as though they were discussing nothing more important than dresses. “Overall, I am not displeased.”
Lisette said no more, and so Esofi started off in the direction of her room. Lexandrie was nowhere to be found, but Mireille was waiting in the sitting room and leapt to her feet eagerly when Esofi entered.
“This came for you, Princess!” said Mireille, holding out a stack of parchment. Esofi went to accept it, but Lisette intercepted her, snatching the pages from Mireille’s hands and examining each one individually for poisons or powders before passing them on to Esofi.
Esofi scanned the text. It was a marriage contract, nearly identical to the one her parents had signed for her when she was three years old. The only difference seemed to be the name of her groom, but Esofi knew she had to read it carefully to be certain.
“His Majesty’s squire came and delivered it while you were gone,” explained Mireille. “If you are amenable to the terms, there will be an official signing in two days’ time.”
“I see,” said Esofi. “And where is Lexandrie?”
“She went to speak with Mistress Abbing, that housekeeper,” said Mireille. “She dislikes the layout of our room. I think she’s going to make those poor servants move our furniture around!”
Esofi gave a little sigh. “Very well. Mireille, will you please send a servant to tell Captain Henris that I require a chest with five thousand pieces of Rhodian gold to be fitted to my carriage and a formal escort to the Great Temple of Iolar? I believe the offering should be made today. If you should happen upon Lexandrie along the way, tell her that I would appreciate her company.”
Mireille was off in a flash, and Esofi went into her room to check that she had not become too disheveled during her meeting with the crown princess. She applied a new coat of paint to her lips and then sat down to review the contract His Majesty had sent.
Mireille was the first to return, and Lexandrie shortly thereafter. While Mireille was capable of restraining herself for fear of asking impertinent questions, Lexandrie had no such qualms.
“You met the crown princess, didn’t you?” asked Lexandrie, pushing the papers down out of Esofi’s face. “What was she like?”
“Tall,” said Esofi, turning her body away from her cousin so that she couldn’t damage the parchment. “Loud.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. They say she’s an inebriate.” Lexandrie looked pleased with herself for sharing this gossip. “And she has openly declared she does not wish to rule Ieflaria.”
“Then it is fortunate that the gods seldom grant wishes,” said Esofi, not taking her gaze off the contract.
“Esofi, I’m serious!” huffed Lexandrie. “What if she refuses to take the throne after her parents die? Where will that leave you?”
“There is time enough for that,” said Esofi. “Their Majesties are in excellent health. I understand your concerns, Lexandrie, but right now, there is little I can do about Adale’s poor ambitions.”
Eventually, a servant arrived with the news that Esofi’s carriage was ready, and so they all went down to the stables. A combination of royal Ieflarian guards and Rhodian battlemages stood in formation around the carriage, and Captain Henris was talking to another uniformed man. His breastplate was inscribed with the image of a dagger, marking him as a soldier of Reygmadra and the crown.
“Princess,” said Captain Henris, turning toward her. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” said Esofi. She glanced over at the other man. “Sir.”
“This is Captain Lehmann of the royal guard,” said Henris. “He has insisted upon adding his own guards to the procession.”
Esofi didn’t particularly care which soldiers accompanied her to the temple. It was less than two streets away, and she sincerely doubted anyone would be foolish enough to attack a royal carriage in broad daylight on a public street in the most expensive district of Birsgen. But it seemed Captain Henris was interpreting the offer to mean that Lehmann felt the battlemages would not be adequate protection.
Esofi decided not to press the issue. Henris’s pride would mend, and she wanted to get to the temple before it filled for evening prayer. She climbed into the
carriage, ladies behind her. Resting on the floor was a small wooden chest that held the offering for Iolar.
The gold, jewels, and assorted luxury items that Esofi had brought from Rhodia had been stored in the Birsgenan vaults immediately after their arrival. These vaults were located deep beneath the castle, and everything Esofi had brought would remain there until it was needed, safe and secure, though some would be withdrawn and given to the Temple of Pemele on the day of Esofi’s wedding.
The carriage ride was barely fifteen minutes long, and Mireille spent the entire time peeking out the curtains to see how many Birsgeners were gawking.
“Someone needs to sew a dress onto that statue,” grumbled Lexandrie. Esofi followed her gaze to the Temple of Dayluue and immediately understood what her cousin meant. Dayluue was the Goddess of Romantic Love, and her iconography reflected that. Dayluue had not been highly regarded back in Rhodia, despite her status as Seventh of the Ten, and sometimes, it seemed like the Rhodian nobility wanted to forget she even existed. But in Ieflaria, the Temple of Dayluue was far more popular. The priestesses even conducted weddings for those who did not feel comfortable in the Temple of Pemele.
When the carriage came to a halt, Esofi waited for a footman to open the door before climbing out onto the front steps of the temple.
The Great Temple of Iolar was the largest religious building in all Ieflaria, but Esofi had only caught a glimpse of it when they’d initially come into the city. Now, with the walkways far less busy, Esofi could appreciate its beauty.
Unlike the majority of the city, which had been built in gray stone and dark wood, the temple was made of gleaming white marble. The sight of it made Esofi momentarily long for the palace that she had grown up in. The outer walls were covered in multiple raised carvings of the sun, the symbol of Iolar, gilded in gold. Two guards had been posted at each golden sun.
Henris came to stand beside Esofi while she waited for the servants to withdraw the offering chest from the carriage. When two of the footmen had it balanced between themselves, she unfurled her parasol and led the procession up the smooth steps into the temple’s main courtyard. The temple guards bowed as she passed.