I continued. “He said you were his favorite, of all his years in the mirror. He called you gallant.” Perhaps I was overdoing it.
She sat up. “Aza! He said that?”
Now to help the king: “Skulni loved you almost as much as His Majesty does.”
She threw herself back down, face in the counterpane again. “Nobody loves me.”
“The king does! He leaped in front of the centaur’s iron ring for you. Your life is more precious to him than his own. Even—”
“Not anymore. Not now that I’m—”
“You’re still beautiful,” I said, gritting my teeth. “And you know how to keep a beau. You told me so. You said no minxes ever took one from you.”
“Oh, Aza …” She sat cross-legged on the bed. “I’m so glad you didn’t—” She stopped herself.
Didn’t die?
She smiled at me. “We can be friends again. I know more ways to fix your hair.”
My htun hair was fine as it was. But I made myself smile back. “Would you like to go to the king? He is longing for you.”
She wanted to, but first she had to choose the most becoming gown, and I had to tell her she was ravishing in every one she tried. Then came the hair, which was wispy and fine now. She pinned it up and let it down at least a dozen times. Last came the cosmetics, another anxious business.
Finally she was finished, and I had to admit she showed herself to her best advantage. She was lovely.
I still felt a pang that others could be lovely and not I.
When we stepped into the corridor, Ijori’s face registered no surprise at the change in her. “Your Majesty.” He bowed and then held out his arm.
She took it. I positioned myself on her other side. We set off for the physician’s chambers. Songbirds serenaded us as we went. We passed servants and courtiers, who stared and then bowed or curtsied. Ivi nodded and ignored the stares.
She stopped a yard from the king’s sickroom and touched her hair. She straightened her gown. Then she turned to me and whispered, “He loves me? He still loves me?”
It was far better to be me than to be Ivi. “He loves you.”
“No minx will take him from me now either.” She opened the door.
King Oscaro sat in a chair facing the window. His expression when he turned to us was melancholy, but it changed to joy when he saw Ivi. He couldn’t speak, but his smile was eloquent enough. If he noticed any alteration in her, his face didn’t show it.
She ran to him. “My Lord.” She knelt, gazing up at him.
He drew her to him in an awkward embrace.
Ijori tugged on my arm. We backed out of the room and closed the door behind us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
WHEN WE LEFT the king, we found Uju and warned him to take care. However, now that Ivi had been reunited with her husband, I thought Uju in little danger.
The king’s council members spent the entire next day deliberating and came to the conclusion—despite Ijori’s explanations and arguments—that they didn’t know what to make of me. Furthermore, they feared I might still be dangerous. Their reasons: I could illuse; my appearance had changed twice; and I had magically escaped from prison. The council decided to confine me to my bedchamber with two guards at my door. When—and if—the king was well enough, he would judge my case.
Visitors were allowed. Ijori spent much of each day with me, and he wasn’t my only companion. Uju came too. So did Mistress Audra and the tailor. We sang together, and the guards often opened the door, the better to hear us and to sing along. Then, naturally, passersby stopped to listen too, and to join in, and to enter and sing more.
Castle opinion mounted in my favor. I was no longer constantly at Ivi’s side—indeed, she never visited me. Mistress Audra and the tailor were my enthusiastic advocates, and even taciturn Uju spoke up for me.
One afternoon Mistress Audra asked me to show everyone how to illuse. No one could do it, but it became the fashion to stop by for a demonstration. My prison was frequently the merriest spot in the castle.
Sometimes I asked my visitors if they’d seen anyone resembling Skulni. The answer was always no. I prayed he’d truly been destroyed, destroyed beyond return in some other form.
After he saw Ivi, King Oscaro’s recovery resumed. A week later he spoke to her, his first halting words. “My … dear … beautiful … love.”
Exactly what she’d want to hear.
I was overjoyed he was better, but I was dismayed, too. Soon I’d be brought before him, and I’d tell him terrible truths about Ivi. Would he believe them? Or would he deem me an ill-favored, lying ogre’s cousin?
The following Tuesday I was summoned to the Throne Room. Ivi was at the market in Ontio with her new lady-in-waiting, the plain-faced daughter of a knight.
I was as frightened as I’d been during my first time in the king’s presence.
He spoke slowly, and he formed his words deliberately, but each one was clear, and his sentences were complete and lucid. “Thank you … for … coming …, Maid Aza. I am … hoping … you can … explain … some matters … I don’t … understand.”
Then he asked Sir Uellu to remain in the chamber with us, but no one else.
I told them almost everything, from the moment Ivi found me illusing to my assurance to her of the king’s love. I omitted only her habit of flirting with Ijori and Uju. I couldn’t omit her attempt on my life, but I stressed Skulni’s evil influence. I wanted to ameliorate the king’s pain. Moreover, I wanted to present myself as fair.
They let me speak without interruption, but I interrupted my story once. I couldn’t help myself. When I first mentioned the potions, I said, “Sire, did you notice a change in Her Majesty’s appearance at the wedding, and again recently?”
He nodded. His expression didn’t change. I waited for him to say something, but he was silent. I resumed my tale.
Sir Uellu shook his head occasionally, but King Oscaro looked steadily at me, his expression unfailingly attentive.
At the end he turned to the choirmaster. With an effort he said, “I … believe her. I wish the truth were otherwise, but I believe it. Queen Ivi told me some of it herself.”
As Skulni had suggested, the king had heard what she’d told him when he’d been in his apparent stupor.
The king added, “I didn’t comprehend everything. I was most perplexed by the mirror she spoke of.”
Sir Uellu said, “Sire, how appalling. Maid Aza—” He sang,
“I’d give my best notes
for forgiveness.
I was wrong,
my ears confused.
I cannot undo the deeds
or erase the need
for forgiveness.”
I said nothing. I wasn’t ready to forgive him.
He went on, “What will you do to the queen, Your Majesty?”
“I shall do nothing to her. She saved my life, and I love her. When I lay on my sickbed, I was a wanderer in a shadowy wilderness. If not for her I would still be wandering. When she came to me at night, her voice was my guide. Her presence was my solace. In my delirium I thought her a cat. She was a small black cat, and she led me home.
“I shall do nothing to her, but I must do something so that she may never again rule Ayortha.”
He asked us to leave.
Ijori was waiting anxiously outside. As soon as he saw my expression, he knew all was well. He kissed me right before Sir Uellu. But a kiss wasn’t enough to express his joy. He spun me around and fed Oochoo a handful of treats.
Sir Uellu apologized to me again and added, “I should have known by your marvelous voice that you couldn’t be evil.”
I shook my head. “Voices and faces aren’t manifestations of good or bad.” I realized how much I’d changed since I’d first arrived at the castle. I’d corrected the choirmaster!
He bowed and left us.
Ijori took my hands in both of his. “Aza?” He sang, “Aza? Oochoo? Aza?”
I waited, puz
zled.
He laughed. “I’ve been to Kyrria and to Pu. I’ve addressed the twin kings of Bizidel and offended neither one, but I’ve never . . . Aza, I need a partner in the composing game . . .”
I smiled. “Of course.”
He put a finger on my lips. “… a partner who raises me above myself …”
He wanted a different partner, not me?
“… a partner who delights her listeners. Aza, will you marry me?”
I put my hand in front of my face. Then I lowered it, in spite of my blush. I sang, “I would marry you this moment. I’ll harmonize with you forever.”
We kissed again and again. Oochoo barked. I dared to reach into Ijori’s tunic jacket for a treat for her.
The king spent the next morning alone with Ijori. Afterward he called for a Sing for the following week. It would be his first since he’d been injured. It would be my first since before being imprisoned.
Over the course of the week I wrote my song, taking extra care, eager to strike the right note. When the song was written, I went through my new gowns and chose a dusty pink one with a low loose waist and a pale-pink V-shaped collar. I was brave and looked at myself in the mirror.
Ugly.
Can a dragon judge ostumo?
I blinked in astonishment, realizing for the first time that I was as hard on myself as my worst critics. Sir Uellu had called me an ogre’s cousin, and I’d believed he might be right. I’d thought Ijori saw me as hulking and unwomanly. I’d anticipated insults before they came. I’d avoided looking in actual mirrors, but I’d gazed constantly in the mirror in my mind and always hated what I showed myself.
I looked again in the real mirror in front of me.
Dignified. Dignified and grand.
I closed my eyes and saw myself again. Milk-white face, blood-red lips. Dignified and grand.
I reviewed my song and changed a word or two.
At the Sing I sat next to Ijori, with Oochoo sitting at attention between us. King Oscaro and Ivi entered. The king seated himself next to me and placed Ivi on his other side. I tightened my grip on Ijori’s hand.
The Sing began. Everyone was in fine voice. The choral selections were sung with such fervor, Sir Uellu’s baton could hardly keep up. Then, in a break from tradition, King Oscaro sang his solo first. He mounted the stage, his step as firm as it had ever been. He nodded at the choirmaster and began an epistolary song, the form Ivi had used at the Healing Sing.
“My dear friends, dear to me every one,
“It is a joy to sing with you again. I can hardly believe I can. It is a joy to see your joy.”
People clasped hands and swayed and closed their eyes.
“I heard your voices when I was ill. I was adrift. I could find no path. My spirit was missing. I heard one voice above the rest. It found me. It told me stories I could not understand. At night it rested at my side. I thought it was a cat. I followed it home, where it turned into my love. My queen cured me, and I’ll thank her forever.”
People stopped swaying and opened their eyes. He held out his hand, and Ivi joined him on the stage, smiling triumphantly.
“She will leave me soon, for a brief while. She will live at Adoma, where the obirko blooms best.”
The swaying resumed. Adoma was the king’s southernmost castle.
“I’ve been your king for seventeen years, seventeen years of happiness, since a month before my nephew was born. I will be your king for three years more.”
I heard huffs of surprise and a moan or two.
“When my reign is twenty years old and my nephew is, too, I will abdicate, and he will rule. His voice will carry, and Ayortha will be safe. Oochoo’s voice carries farther, so Ayortha will be safer.”
There was laughter.
“And I daresay his wife’s voice will carry farthest, so Ayortha will be safest.”
I listened and heard no gasps, felt no resentment. Thank you, everyone. Ijori squeezed my hand.
“We will have a new Three Tree on the throne—king, queen, and dog—bass, alto, and howl.”
More laughter.
“But although I step down, we will visit. I will sing with you through low times and high.
“Yours in loving gratitude,
“Oscaro”
The king was sending Ivi into exile so the rest of us would be safe from her. He had been both just and merciful. He was exiling himself as well. How much that pained him I have no idea.
He stepped back. I felt everyone stiffen as Ivi began to sing.
“Dear Subjects,
“I am glad my husband is well again. I have not yet stopped smiling for joy. I hope you may tell by my violet gown, violet for happiness. It was a privilege to rule you for the months of my rule. I meant to be a strong queen. I thought you’d want a strong queen. I regret taking away your songbirds. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you like them.
“Your king’s happy wife,
“Queen Ivi”
Her voice was weak, and she missed some notes, but her tune was pleasant. Every hand went up, and her smile grew and glowed.
She left the stage, but the king remained. I wondered why.
The doors at the back of the hall opened—and Mother and Father entered. I jumped up. Behind them were Ollo and Yarry and Areida. And there was the duchess, and Dame Ethele! Ijori’s smile was wide enough to touch his ears.
I ran up the aisle—and saw zhamM in the doorway. zhamM!
Oochoo pelted by and jumped up on Father. Mother embraced me, and I reached out for zhamM. Areida patted my back, and Yarry said, “Congratulations, Sister. I suppose the guards won’t be back to arrest us all.”
We laughed, and even the duchess looked glad.
zhamM said, “Congratulations, Cousin. You are at another crossroads, a splendid one, to be exact.”
I didn’t know I was at a crossroads.
Ijori took my hand. “Come, Aza.” He sang softly in my ear, “We planned it in secret to confound the fairy Lucinda. We need no magical gifts.” He reddened. “And I wanted to see your joy when your family came. It’s our wedding day, love.”
Sir Uellu sang, “Prince Ijori!”
“Yes, Ayortha!” Ijori tugged me down the aisle, just as Lady Arona had all those months ago for the composing game.
Sir Uellu sang, “Maid Aza!”
My knees were weak, my heart was hammering, but I was very, very happy. I mustered my voice and sang, “Yes, Ayortha!”
Hands went up.
Sir Uellu sang, “Ayorthaiana!”
Everyone sang, “Yes, Ayortha!”
Sir Uellu led us in the Three Tree Song.
Ijori sang next, a promise to Ayortha and a love song.
“Everything comes in threes.
My love returned.
Our king has sung.
Tonight we wed.
Everything comes in threes:
My bride’s voice,
Our song together,
Ayortha’s chorus.
Everything comes in threes.
The king will uncurl his roots
From his umbru throne.
I’ll be planted in his place.
Aza will rise at my side.
Everything comes in threes.
Obirko, almyna, umbru.
Council, king, kingdom.
King, queen, Ayortha.
I won’t rule alone.”
I decided against the song I’d planned. “This is an Amontan love song,” I began.
“Every curl is a reason I love you
your fingers make ten more
each smile, each glance, each word
the reasons reach heaven”
People swayed and closed their eyes. Many clasped hands. I sang with my whole voice.
“loving you makes me love myself more
loving you makes me love you evermore”
I added the final stanza of the song I’d written for the Sing.
“I’m an innkeeper’s daughter.”
&
nbsp; I saw Father beam.
“A castle is an inn,
and a kingdom is a castle.
The regions are the rooms.
I know how to keep an inn.
An innkeeper does her best.”
I began to illuse. From above the duchess’s seat I sang in her voice, “My ostumo is piping hot.” From above Uju’s seat I sang in his voice, “My centaur is well stabled.” From above the library keeper’s seat I sang in his voice, “My books have fine titles, not overused.” From above zhamM’s seat I sang in his voice, “My bed is wide, to be exact.” From above Frying Pan’s seat I illused bells jingling. I sang in her voice, “The kitchen is ringing.” I heard her shout of laughter. From my own mouth I sang, “I rejoice the king is well.”
We left the stage and descended into a forest of waving arms.
EPILOGUE
SKULNI HAS NEVER been seen or heard from again in Ayortha.
Ivi didn’t come to Ijori’s coronation. Instead, she visited her home in the Kyrrian town of Bast, where she distributed gifts and harvested adulation. In the years that followed, she rarely came to Ontio, but her husband visited often and was always glad to share his wisdom with us.
I began to accompany Ijori on raids against the ogres. In time they discovered the trick of illusing, but they couldn’t stop being fooled by it. Thus we made our roads and even the mountains safer for our subjects who traveled—a boon to the kingdom’s innkeepers.
The Featherbed became the most popular and prosperous inn in Ayortha. As they grew older, Mother and Father left most of the labor to Yarry and Ollo and spent more and more time at court. Areida lived at court after she completed finishing school. She apprenticed herself to Sir Enole and became a fine physician. And she was always a close friend of the Kyrrian ruler, Ella of Frell.
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