Daughter of the Disgraced King (27 page)

Ailsa let go of Jathan’s hand and turned to face the barons
for the first time. “I could do a great deal for Far Terra. How much I actually
do is up to you.” Then she turned and strode back down the length of the hall.

Behind her, Rishiart’s voice rose to be heard over the
excited murmuring that had broken out around her. “She’s not
just
a
green mage, you know. She’s a ninth-level green mage. And Prince Jathan, is a tenth-level
green mage, the most powerful in three generations. They are training to work
as a team. What they can do together . . . well, I suppose you’ll have to see
that for yourselves.
If
you are prepared to meet their terms, of course.”

Ailsa slowed at the door so that Jathan could catch up to
her without running. When they were beyond the palace gates, she whispered, “See
what I mean about Far Terra?”

“What, you think one crazy old man is going to keep me away from
you? We can handle him.” Jathan laughed. “We just did. And if ever we can’t, my
father surely can. We have no reason to be afraid of him. I’m certainly not
going to let him steal my happiness. Are you?”

Ailsa blinked. “No. No, I’m not going to let him take one
more thing from me.”

Jathan grabbed her hand and turned her to face him so he
could kiss her. He looked into her eyes, fingers stroking her cheek. “Good.
Then we agree. And we’ll make it official, just as soon as we get back to
Terranion.”

Ailsa smiled and lifted her face to his.

  Savyon wandered around the palace grounds aimlessly. Ailsa
was gone. Worse, gone with
Jathan
. It didn’t help that Savyon could
trace every single mistake he’d made, right from his awkward proposal onward. He’d
made a hash of it all—just as he’d always feared he would. And now he was
coldly certain that he’d lost Ailsa for real and true. He hadn’t wanted to
believe it, but those last few days before they left she’d made no secret of
her preference for Jathan over him.

Cergio was no help at all. In fact, his brother had an
infuriating tendency to laugh at Savyon’s awkwardness in this. Cergio had never
really cared about any of the girls he’d supposedly courted. It was all a game
to Cergio. Losing occasionally was part of any game and Cergio never seemed
more than a little put out when it happened to him. He just didn’t understand. Savyon’s
lips twisted in memory of some of his brother’s comments.

Perion might understand. After all, he’d had a similar
experience with Delea. But Perion hadn’t been around much since his testing. At
least he’d found something to pour his energies into. Something to distract
him. Savyon had no such luxury. He had nothing to do but wander around and
think about everything he’d done wrong, every word and action that had
ultimately cost him Ailsa. His feet led him down to the stables, not because he
particularly wanted to ride. Not alone.

It was just that the stables were marginally better than the
gardens. Ailsa seemed to breathe out of every shrub and flower in the gardens. He
stopped to let his eyes adjust as he entered the dim barn. The empty stalls at
the end, where Diamond and Pearl used to wait for Ailsa brought him up short.
Maybe the stables weren’t a good idea, either.

“Well, are you coming in or not?”

Savyon spun to see Mayra feeding a carrot to her pretty
little mare. “Oh, uh, hello, Mayra. I actually didn’t expect to meet anyone
here.”

Mayra cocked her head to the side. “Why not? Aside from the
fact that there are nearly always grooms around, it is Starday. Surely you know
by now that I always ride on Starday. I wasn’t sure if you’d be joining me
today, though.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to ride?”

Starday
. Savyon had lost track of the days. If it was
Starday, then Ailsa had already arrived in Far Terra—with Jathan. In fact, the
Winter Ball would be tonight. Both there and here, come to think of it. Another
interminable ball to suffer through without Ailsa to dance with. He sighed. “I
hadn’t planned anything, really. I’m just . . . restless.”

“Well, then, you might as well come for a ride,” Mayra said.
“I wouldn’t mind a little company.”

Savyon shook his head. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to
ride alone, Princess.”

Mayra laughed and shook her head in disbelief. A sweep of
her hand evoked the ring of guards that always followed on these rides. “Hardly
alone.” She cocked her head to the side. “Would it make you feel better if I
asked your brother to join us?”

“No. I . . . part of why I came down here was to get away
from Cergio for a while.”

Mayra smiled. “I can understand that. I feel the same way
about my brothers sometimes. What about Prince Perion, then?”

Savyon had just been thinking of talking to Perion. But . .
. not in Mayra’s presence. In fact, he somehow didn’t like to think about
Perion riding with Mayra, either. “No.”

Mayra’s smile turned a little coy. “I thought you and Prince
Perion were friends.”

Savyon shrugged. “We are.”

“Well, then, why not invite him along. He could probably use
the exercise, too.”

“I . . .” Savyon couldn’t find the words to express his
feelings about this. Probably because he wasn’t at all sure what they were.

Mayra arched her brows. “Well, never mind. You and I can go
for a ride, then. You can keep me company.”

Savyon smiled faintly. Put that way, he could hardly refuse.
“All right.”

~

Mayra looked around the ball room. Hmm. Savyon wasn’t here,
yet. Perion and Cergio were, though, standing by the refreshments table. Maybe
that was a good thing. Savyon’s reactions earlier had been . . . interesting.
Now, would Cergio or Perion disturb him more? They were both princes. Hmm. Cergio
was never serious about anything, so probably wouldn’t represent a serious
threat. Perion, then.

~

Savyon entered the ballroom reluctantly. He’d always hated
these things at home. Seemed he couldn’t escape them even here. And here he
didn’t have the refuge of standing apart up on the dais—which was conspicuously
empty anyway. He looked around and frowned slightly when he spotted Mayra
spinning around the dance floor with Perion.

Well, why shouldn’t Mayra dance with Perion, after all?
There was absolutely no reason why that should bother him. He had no cause to
be jealous. That was ridiculous. It was just that he didn’t have anyone else to
dance with. That must be it.

Yes. Mayra and Ailsa were the only two here he knew to dance
with. Ailsa was gone and Mayra was dancing with Perion. He didn’t have his
place up on the dais as a refuge. And he couldn’t leave without insulting his
host. Not a good idea—especially when that host was the emperor. Savyon felt
tall, and awkward, and out of place. For a moment he thought about just finding
an unobtrusive spot along the wall, but most of the spaces between the holly
trees were already occupied by either guards or servants. Well, he couldn’t
continue standing in the doorway. He drifted over to the refreshments table.

A man nodded to him and greeted him. “Prince Savyon.”

Ah. Savyon knew he’d been introduced to this man. What was
his name again? He was so bad with names. Oh, yes. He remembered because it was
so similar to Perion’s. Savyon nodded back. He was a duke from somewhere to the
west, and married to the emperor’s own sister. Not someone to be ignored. “Duke
Perico.”

“Have you met my daughter, Lady Aleonor?”

“I had not had that pleasure,” Savyon replied automatically
and bowed low over the girl’s hand. “And what brings you to Terranion, Lady
Aleonor?”

Aleonor tossed her head, making her ruddy curls dance. She
cast a quick, unreadable glance toward her father. “I’ve come to attend the
Academy for a year or two.”

“Ah, what a coincidence. So have I,” Savyon said, just
making small talk.

“Perhaps you and Aleonor will share some classes, then. It
would be good for her to have a friend or two in the city.”

Aleonor cast another glance at her father. This one was more
decipherable to Savyon—and more understandable. Apparently he wasn’t the only
one who resented parental interference of this kind.

Savyon smiled at her in sympathy. “I’m sure Lady Aleonor
will have no trouble making friends.”

Aleonor smiled back.

The music stopped momentarily and Savyon looked up to see
where Mayra might be. On the other side of the room, unfortunately.

Duke Perico smiled. “You two young people don’t want to
stand around talking to me. Go out there and dance.”

Ack! The duke had misinterpreted his glance. Nevertheless,
there was no polite way out of it, now. Savyon bowed again and offered his arm
to the girl. “I’m afraid I’m a poor dancer, but if you would honor me with a
dance, Lady Aleonor?”

She curtsied prettily. “I’m sure you dance very well, Prince
Savyon. I would be delighted.”

It didn’t take long for Savyon to prove himself right with a
missed step. He grimaced as he tried to correct for his stumble and almost
caused another. “Sorry. I did warn you I don’t dance well. I’m too tall and
gawky. There’s only ever been one—well, two—women who could make it
look
like I dance reasonably well.”

Aleonor squeezed his arm where her hand rested on it. “You’re
not too tall. I’ve danced with several young men as tall as you, without
incident. You’re just too self-conscious. It keeps you from moving smoothly.
Never mind. As long as you make sure we end up on the opposite side of the room
from my father, I’ll be satisfied.”

Savyon’s grimace turned to a smile. “That, I think I can do.”
He looked around and steered them closer to Mayra and Perion. The very least he
could do to make up for his lack of skill was to introduce Lady Aleonor to Perion.
He’d make a much better dance partner. And Perion had shown a preference for
red-heads before. Maybe he’d be more interested in Lady Aleonor than in Mayra. Savyon
had to assume she already knew Mayra. Of course she did. They were cousins,
weren’t they?

When the music stopped, they were right next to Mayra and
Perion. Savyon bowed to his partner. “Lady Aleonor, may I make you known to my
. . . distant cousin, Prince Perion?”

Aleonor curtsied again.

Perion smiled broadly. “Delighted.” When the music started
up again, Perion was quick to ask Lady Aleonor.

Savyon smiled at Mayra. “Would you care to dance?”

Mayra took his offered hand. “All right.”

Savyon relaxed, feeling much more comfortable dancing with
Mayra. “You dance beautifully, you know.”

Mayra cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. “This
isn’t the first time we’ve danced. Though I suppose it might be the first time
you’ve been paying attention. To me, at least.”

Savyon gulped and tried to smile. “I guess that’s fair. I
was . . .”

“Obsessed? Rude? Clueless?” Mayra supplied.

Savyon supposed he deserved the rude. He hadn’t been fair to
Mayra at all, and she’d been trying to help him. Obsessed? Maybe, but . . . His
shoulders sagged. “Uh. Confused? Desperate?”

One side of Mayra’s mouth quirked up fetchingly. “I’ll give
you desperate.” She shook her head. “Asking Ailsa to give up her magic was
borderline insane.”

Savyon blinked. “How did you know about that?”

“Ailsa told me, of course. What I don’t understand is why
you were so desperate to get her back. I mean, if you don’t care about who she
really is . . .”

Savyon stopped in the middle of the dance. “It wasn’t like
that. I didn’t mean . . .”

Mayra pursed her lips. “Perhaps not.” She took his hand and
led him toward the balcony. “Maybe it’d be easier to talk without the
distraction of trying to dance at the same time. Anyway, I’m ready for a break.”

~

 Mayra slanted a glance up at Savyon’s face. It looked like
he was beginning to struggle, painfully, with some reality. If it was—finally—time
for a dose of truth, perhaps it was also time for a little privacy. Not too
much of course. But more than the balcony would easily provide. She continued
on toward the steps down to the garden.

Savyon held back. “Where are we going?”

Mayra pulled him forward again. “There’s a nice little arbor
just below. The garden will be mostly empty, this time of year. Not much to
look at, you know. Also, cold. We’ll be able to talk more easily.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Oh, several things.” She pointed Savyon to one of the
facing benches in the arbor and took the opposite bench. “So, let’s start with
why you were so obsessed with Ailsa that you’d make a
huge
mistake like
that.”

“I love Ailsa.”

Mayra stifled a sigh. “No, you don’t. Not that kind of love
anyway.”

Savyon stiffened. “I do—”

Mayra pulled at one of the bare twigs that covered the
arbor. “No. I’ve watched my parents enough to know. Real love doesn’t try to
change its object. Not to say they always agree on everything. Or even that
they don’t argue from time to time. But they accept each other as they are, not
as they’d like or as would be more convenient. You think it wouldn’t have been
easier for my father to ask mother to stop being a mage? Even here, that’s not
been easy for them. Not because of any idiotic problems about mages in
positions of power. But, Mother is the first empress—ever—to work on anything
but the sort of things that advance her husband’s agenda. And producing heirs,
of course. It wasn’t easy to break out of that mold, but she did it—with Father’s
full help and support. He didn’t ask her to stop being a healer mage any more
than she asked him to stop being emperor. It would have been like asking her to
stop being
her.
” She watched his mouth open and close a few times before
throwing him a line. “So, why were you so convinced you were in love with
Ailsa?”

Savyon hung his head. “It’s always been Ailsa. I’ve known
her all my life, after all.”

Mayra cocked her head to the side. “
Always?
That
seems a long way back.”

Savyon shrugged. “Well, of course we were just friends when
we were younger. It wasn’t until . . . oh, I don’t know . . . the last year or
two, I guess . . . that I started thinking of her differently.”

Mayra snorted delicately. “Two years. And yet you never said
anything to her? Never tried to kiss her, even?”

“I didn’t want to take a chance on ruining our friendship.”