Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
Jelena went on to tell her tale of growing up outcast among the humans of Amsara, ignored or openly despised by most of them; her foster mother and human cousin became her only sources of love and emotional support.
“I lived and worked as a kitchen servant for most of my life. I never dreamed anything else was possible for me, so I made the best of it.
It wasn’t all bad, though. My cousin Magnes taught me to read and write, to ride a horse and shoot a bow. He even taught me a little about swordplay and how to defend myself with a knife.”
“Why did you run away, then?” Lord Morio asked, his voice sharp.
“My uncle, the duke, was preparing to sell me as a concubine to another lord. I could live as a servant, but I would not be made a slave. So…I left.”
Many of the lords stirred uneasily.
Struck a sensitive spot, has she,
Raidan thought
. How many of you keep hikui concubines to warm your beds, eh?
“My cousin came with me to protect me. We ran into a gang of bandits on the border between Amsara and Kerala. My husband…I mean, my future husband—Captain Ashinji Sakehera—rescued my cousin and me, but I got badly hurt. Captain Sakehera took us both back to Kerala where I received treatment for my wounds. Even before I had fully recovered, Lord Sen offered me a place in his service as a messenger. I accepted and worked to make a good life for myself in Kerala. I had friends, decent work, and most important of all, I had my freedom.”
“What became of your human cousin?” old Lady Saizura asked in a thin, reedy voice. She wore an antique gown and an outlandishly tall headdress, which, coupled with her extreme age, made her look like a character out of a historical play.
“He decided it was best that he return home to Amsara. I have had no news of him since.”
Lady Saizura snorted. “No doubt he has given his father a complete description of your castle and its defenses, Sakehera. I’d be concerned, if I were you!”
Jelena’s eyes flashed with anger. “My cousin is an honorable man! He would never betray anyone he considered a friend, not even if his own father asked him to. If Duke Teodorus attacks Kerala, it won’t be because of anything Magnes told him!” Jelena glared at the old noblewoman defiantly.
“Hee hee! The girl has spirit, Majesty! I’ll give her that much,” Saizura cackled. “Pity she is not okui.”
“She is our king’s daughter, Lady Saizura, and my daughter-in-law! That should make her good enough to meet even your standards!” Sen growled.
“Peace, Lord Sen…my lady!” the king intervened.
Raidan studied his niece’s face. Her lower lip trembled a little, and her eyebrows drew downward at their inner corners. She surreptitiously rubbed her belly, as if in pain. Despite her apprehension, she was managing to maintain her composure. Raidan doubted that his own son Raidu could do as well.
“Fathers,” Jelena continued, emphasizing the plural and looking at Keizo and Lord Sen in turn, “And my lords and ladies. I know what I am, and what I’m not. Many of you are not comfortable with my presence, and probably wish that I’d never found my way here, but I did. I’ve no desire to overturn any laws that are
fair
, nor do I wish to take away something that is not mine. All I want is to know my father, and my family history, and to learn the history of the elven people.” She fell silent.
“Well spoken, Niece,” Raidan said. He scanned the faces of the others, and saw cautious acceptance on a few, but most looked decidedly non-committal. He had expected as much. If it came down to a battle of wills with his brother, then he could count on the necessary support of the majority of the Council.
It seems that my niece will be no real threat after all.
~~~
“She held up well. Even I felt a twinge of pride,” Raidan admitted. “She seemed a little pale, though, and she kept pressing her hand to her belly.” He sat for awhile in silence and watched Taya at her little writing desk as she jotted down notes in a small book bound in scaly red leather.
Raidan didn’t inquire about the nature of her work. He assumed it to be magical, and he preferred to stay out of all business pertaining to the sorcerous arts.
Taya sighed and put down her pen. She closed the little book with a snap and laid it aside. “The girl is pregnant. Amara Sakehera told me this morning,” she said.
“Will this complicate things?” Raidan asked.
Taya shook her head. “No…not really, though Amara will no doubt wish to delay the Sundering until after the child is born.” She paused, then added, “It would be the compassionate thing to do, but I’m not sure we’ll have that luxury. Of course, as Mistress of the Kirian Society, I will have the final word on when the ritual will be performed. Amara must abide by my decision.”
Taya rose from her chair and came to sit beside Raidan, who slid over to make room for her upon the small couch. The scent of jasmine, inextricably linked to all Raidan’s erotic thoughts about his wife, infused the air. “What about Keizo?” he asked.
“You must not tell your brother any of this!” Taya responded sharply. “I realize this puts you in a very difficult position…”
“Yes, it does!” Raidan exclaimed. “You are demanding that I withhold something so important that, by doing so, I’m committing a terrible betrayal! This is the life of my brother’s only child!”
“A life that you would not hesitate to take yourself if you felt it necessary!”
Raidan stared into his wife’s eyes and saw the iron-willed Mistress of the Kirian Society staring back at him.
“You must do this, Husband,” Taya murmured. “Greater things are at stake here than the life of one girl…The very existence of the material world.”
Forty five years of marriage had taught Raidan many things; the most important lesson being the absolute superiority of Taya’s instincts over his own.
He slowly nodded. “If you say that I must lie to my brother…that I have no choice but to do this thing…then I will do it, because I trust you completely.”
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Raidan found the smell of his wife’s perfume distracting. He gazed at Taya and marveled again at his great fortune. Most married couples counted themselves lucky if they even liked each other. He had received in Taya a gift beyond price—a best friend as well as a wife. He pulled her close and kissed her.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?” He brushed her cheek with a forefinger.
“No, of course not,” she replied softly.
“How could I ever live without you?” he whispered.
“You’ll never have to find out.”
~~~
Two days later, Raidan stood beside Keizo before a glittering assemblage of the elite of Sendai as the king formally claimed Jelena as his own.
“I hereby proclaim her to be my legitimized child, a true daughter of the House of Onjara, and I now elevate her to the rank of Princess.” Keizo’s voice rang out clear and strong, reaching even those who had to stand at the back of the vast, State Audience Chamber.
Jelena, looking a little overwhelmed in her formal court gown and makeup, nevertheless stood tall by the king’s left hand.
“She shall be known from this day forward as Princess Jelena Onjara Sakehera of Alasiri.” The king beckoned and Jelena knelt before him. He held out his hands to Raidan, who placed within them a coronet of white gold worked all around its circumference with a motif of griffins, each one clutching a moonstone in its claws.
The king placed the coronet on Jelena’s head. “Rise up, Daughter, and take your rightful place at my side,” he intoned. He took Jelena’s hand and helped her to her feet. She swayed a little, recovered, then moved to Keizo’s left.
The ceremony ended with a fanfare of horns, blown with melodic precision by the court heralds. The formal procession through the streets of Sendai would now commence, so that the common people could see their new princess. Jelena would ride in an open litter, flanked by members of the King’s Guard. Raidan and the king would ride before her, Sen Sakehera and her husband Ashinji directly behind. Raidan had heard his niece protested mightily about the arrangements, insisting that she wished to ride her own horse, but the king had held firm. Keizo had confided to Raidan just this morning that his daughter was with child, and would deliver next spring. Raidan duly congratulated his brother, keeping to himself the fact that he already knew.
The restless crowd parted before them as the royal party moved slowly toward the tall double doors leading out of the hall, which stood open to admit the hazy fall sunshine. Brightly caparisoned horses, held by grooms in formal livery, stamped and snorted on the gravel, harnesses jingling. Members of the King’s Guard stood at each corner of a litter upholstered in pale green silk, ready to hoist the conveyance onto their shoulders. Two additional guards would walk along either side.
Raidan carefully hid his amusement as Jelena frowned at the sight of the litter. She allowed the guards to help her in, then spent several moments arranging the many layers of her gown. Raidan suspected her efforts were not to create an artful display of the sumptuous fabrics, but simply to get them out of her way so she could recline more comfortably against the pillows. After she had composed her garments to her satisfaction, she adjusted the griffin coronet on her brow, then looked about her as if searching for something.
Someone, Raidan realized, as Ashinji Sakehera appeared at her side. He crouched down and the two of them bent their heads together, whispering earnestly to each other.
Your fortunes have risen quickly, young Sakehera. I doubt this sits well with your brother,
Raidan thought.
“Your Highness, at your pleasure!”
Raidan looked away from the lovers to see that a groom had brought his horse. All around him, the procession formed up, preparing to move out across the parade ground and down the main avenue into the city. Even at this distance, the prince could hear, like waves crashing against the shoreline, the muted roar of the crowd gathered along the street.
Keizo had already mounted his horse and sat waiting. Raidan swung into his saddle and the king signaled to the litter bearers. Ashinji Sakehera stepped away as they raised Jelena and her litter to their shoulders. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then went to mount up beside his father. Raidan maneuvered his horse into position next to the king, and they moved off.
The procession wound its way slowly through the streets of Sendai. The largely okui crowds greeted their king and his newly legitimized daughter with polite cheers and muted applause.
All of that changed the moment they entered Jokimichi.
The hikui folk had turned out as if for a festival day. All the shops and houses were hung with streamers and brightly painted banners. The people greeted Jelena with tumultuous cries, surging forward in a desperate attempt to touch her.
At first, Jelena appeared too overwhelmed to move. She sat as still as a painted statue, one manicured hand pressed to her lips. Then, as if awakening from a dream, she turned her head from side to side, and Raidan could see tears flowing from her eyes, carving streaks through her heavy white court makeup. She leaned forward and thrust her hand over the side of the litter, like a woman dangling her fingers over the gunwale of a boat.
An old man seized her fingers, kissed them, then just as quickly released them. Another and yet another person grabbed her hand, each one pressing it fervently to adoring lips.
The King’s Guard made a move to close in and put a stop to things, but Jelena shouted at them to maintain their places. Keizo nodded his head, signaling to the bewildered guardsmen that they should obey his daughter.
“It appears that the hikui folk have already taken your daughter into their hearts!” Raidan had to shout in order to be heard above the crowd.
“So it would seem!” Keizo replied. “Would that the rest of our people were as accepting!”
“Give them time, Brother! The people love you, so they will love your daughter because she is yours!” Raidan spoke to reassure his brother, though he, himself did not really believe his own words, and he could see the uncertainty written on Keizo’s face. The king had always paid close attention to popular opinion, even before he had come to his throne. Raidan felt certain that his brother had noticed the lukewarm reception given to Jelena by the majority of the okui in the city. The prince did not think it realistic to expect that Jelena would be able to win over the okui people of Sendai, despite her likeability and determination.
The procession flowed like a colorful snake out of the hikui district, then turned around and began the slow ascent back toward the castle. Raidan glanced over his shoulder at Jelena, who now leaned back against her pillows, eyes closed. She looked so young and vulnerable, and despite the ruin of her makeup, exquisitely pretty. Raidan could now understand Ashinji Sakehera’s attraction to her.
The crowds had become once again mostly okui folk, curious to see the hikui girl from the east whom the king had declared an Onjara princess. They cheered, but Raidan knew they directed their devotions toward Keizo and not his newly proclaimed offspring. The prince was well-pleased.
It seems that ambition will be served merely by awaiting the inevitable turn of events,
he thought.