The Rose Throne (21 page)

“Umber betrayed her father, in the end. But Kellin stands stalwart at his side, loyal and true. Any woman would fall in love with such a man,” said the other lady.

Then Lady Pippa said, “Ailsbet would fall in love with any man who looked at her twice. And with a man who refused to look at her—she would fall in love with him doubly.”

The two noblewomen laughed and Issa tried to join in, though she feared her laughter sounded brittle and false. Lady Pippa turned to her. “Princess
Marlissa,” she said. “We did not realize you were here.”

“Princess Ailsbet seems very different from the other women of the court,” Issa said. “Do you think it is because of her lack of neweyr?”

“She is different because she thinks she is above us all,” said Lady Viona.

“And because she cannot be without that flute in her hand. I wonder sometimes if she needs a flute more than a man,” said Lady Pippa.

Issa flushed. “Is there no one in Rurik who appreciates music as she does?” she asked. She knew nothing about music but had assumed it was not the same here. She remembered her father saying that the king sang so well.

“Don’t tell us you are a musician, as well?” asked Lady Viona.

“No,” said Issa.

“Good,” said Lady Pippa. “One musician is one too many, as far as I am concerned. A lady at court has certain obligations, don’t you agree? She must think of others. Not live in her own world.” Lady Pippa touched a finger to her temple.

“But does Princess Ailsbet have no friends? No confidantes?”

Lady Viona stared pointedly at Issa. “Who
could be a friend to such a woman?” she asked.

“Because she has no neweyr?” asked Issa.

“Because she makes no effort. She thinks she can stand apart from us. Well, let her. Duke Kellin will not be under her spell long, I think. She is the king’s daughter, to be sure, but he knows that he needs a woman who will help him at court.”

Issa walked away, wishing fervently then that she had brought Lady Neca with her, or even Lady Hadda or Lady Sassa. Anyone of her court who was familiar to her. She could talk to them, passing a pleasant evening without worrying what it looked like to stand apart from all the others. What if King Haikor’s court came to think she thought herself too good for them?

Shortly thereafter, Prince Edik stumbled off to bed, barely awake. Midnight, the hound, was in his arms, sleeping soundly.

Issa was left on her own to watch Kellin dancing with Ailsbet, his hands on her waist, his head next to hers, whispering things that Issa could only imagine.

Later, he came to stand by her. “Princess Marlissa,” he said formally, as if to make clear that she could never be anything more to him than that.

After a moment, Issa found her anger dissolving into self-pity. She had known it would be difficult to
marry Prince Edik. Seeing Kellin again had changed nothing but what she felt in her heart. She must still do what was best for her kingdom. Kellin came to ask her to dance with him later that evening, but she refused him, claiming exhaustion, and went to the far side of the Great Hall. She did not know what to do around him anymore. She could not act coldly, but she could not act as she felt, either. She did not trust herself to find a middle ground.

“Come walk with me in the halls,” said Ailsbet. Issa had not seen her come up behind her. “It is as much privacy as we are likely to get tonight.”

Issa did not know if she wanted to have another private conversation with Ailsbet, but she supposed she did not have much choice. They went out of the Great Hall.

“Well?” said Ailsbet.

“You are the one who asked me to come speak with you,” said Issa.

“Because you are revealing too much. You look like a mourning dove in there, every glance a song of despair.”

“You think me weak,” said Issa.

“Hardly weak,” said Ailsbet.

“I am not like you,” said Issa. She was new to hiding her emotions.

“You did not see me when I thought myself in love,” Ailsbet said, shaking her head. “I was a fool then, too.”

Issa supposed that was a compliment, of sorts, from Ailsbet. “A clever way you had of asking what I felt for Kellin, so you could have him for yourself.”

Ailsbet did not answer for a long moment. “That is not why I came to you last night,” she said.

“Then why?” Issa demanded.

“To see what you were like. To see what you were worth.”

“And what did you decide?”

“That you were the sort of person whom it is nearly impossible to help,” said Ailsbet. “And it is as true this moment as it was that one.”

Issa raised a hand, and the sound of the slap rang out like music.

“I only meant that you will take nothing,” said Ailsbet. “You must always be in charge. But you are distraught now. You should sleep.”

“Don’t tell me what I should do,” said Issa, and she raised her hand a second time.

It did not fall on Ailsbet’s face, for the other princess caught Issa’s wrist and held it tightly.

Issa tried to pull away, but she found she could
not. She tugged at her hand, but it was not merely a matter of Ailsbet’s strength. There was something hot and immovable that held her, something Issa could not fight against.

It was the taweyr, Issa realized. Ailsbet was not unweyr. She was ekhono.

“I hate this place, all of it,” said Issa. “The taste of the taweyr is everywhere, and I can never feel the neweyr. No sense of quiet or peace, no connection to the earth, no sense of continuity.”

“I have no neweyr to mourn its absence here,” said Ailsbet, something they both knew very well now, though it seemed to be a secret to the rest of the court, and to King Haikor. Then she let go of Issa at last. “Excuse me,” she said. Abruptly, she turned away from Issa and was gone.

Issa was left to wonder what she should make of this secret she now held in her hands. But if she had power, Ailsbet held equal power against her. She could ruin the betrothal with Edik by simply hinting that Issa had done something improper with Kellin, and Issa would be sent home in disgrace. As for Kellin, there could be a much worse fate waiting for him. And still they had done nothing.

Issa wandered the halls of the palace alone for some time before she found her way back to the
Great Hall. But once there, she had no heart to remain, and found a servant to help her back to her own chambers. Princess Ailsbet was long gone, and Duke Kellin did not even look at her.

T
HE NIGHT AFTER
her unpleasant encounter with the princess from Weirland, Ailsbet placed herself at Duke Kellin’s side at dinner. He was handsome, to be sure, and he was intelligent. But she knew very little of him, except that his brother was ekhono.

“And how are your crops this year?” Ailsbet asked. Despite Princess Marlissa’s accusations, she and Duke Kellin had hardly exchanged anything but pleasantries, and she did not know what to say to him.

“Very well, I thank you,” Kellin responded blandly.

“You do not lack in neweyr on your estate?”
Ailsbet asked. Did he have any other family at all?

“We lack in nothing, Princess. Your father’s rule has made us very prosperous,” said Kellin.

“And how do you enjoy the palace? You have been here two years now, I believe. But I suspect I could still show you some of its secrets. I know some of the best walks in the palace, places not everyone knows.”

“Very tempting,” said Duke Kellin. “I shall consider your offer when I have time away from my duties with your father to indulge in such ease.”

This stung Ailsbet. Did he think her whole life was ease? “Perhaps I could advise you about other concerns. I know my father’s nobles as well as I know his palace. I have seen them year after year.”

“Indeed, I should appreciate your advice greatly,” said Kellin.

But thereafter, he seemed to ignore her when Ailsbet tried to speak, turning to speak to the nobleman next to him, who had a great deal to say about how to use taweyr on a male horse to make it ride faster. Ailsbet went to bed frustrated and annoyed that she cared about Kellin’s opinion at all. She had not cared about anyone’s opinion of her for years—since Master Lukacs left, in fact.

The following day was dark and rainy, though still
warm with summer. On a whim, Ailsbet brought her flute to court, though she knew it might bring her father’s displeasure upon her. Before dinner, Kellin came to her side and asked, “Will you play for me? Or must I offer you a trade for such a demand?”

“No need for trading,” said Ailsbet. “I would be glad to play for you.”

Kellin clapped his hands immediately and shouted for silence. “Princess Ailsbet will delight us with her music,” he said to the court. He nodded to her.

Once she had begun, Ailsbet felt exposed, but she could not stop. The music had an energy, almost a mind of its own, that she could not control, and she found herself playing a tragic love song.

King Haikor clapped when she was finished. “A little dreary, my dear. But perhaps the weather is upsetting you.”

Ailsbet turned away from her father.

“Princess Ailsbet,” Kellin said afterward, when only she could hear him. “It was beautiful. I thank you. I wish I could hear it again and again.”

“You do not,” said Ailsbet. “It would distract you from your duties.”

“Yes,” said Kellin. “But there is something about that music—it makes me feel differently. Calmer and more connected.”

Ailsbet looked around the room and saw that Kellin was not the only one affected. The court seemed less fractious, at least for the moment. Her father’s expression was calm, and so were those of all the other noblemen. Was it possible that her music had had an effect on the taweyr? Ailsbet knew that her music stilled her own taweyr, but she had not realized it worked as well on others.

After dinner, Duke Kellin asked her to dance with him. She felt the whole court was staring at her.

“Are you attempting to prove your courage?” Kellin asked.

“Is that what you like about Issa? That she is courageous?” asked Ailsbet.

“She is courageous,” said Kellin calmly, “in the most important matters.”

“And this is not important?” asked Ailsbet.

“This is a show. Like your father’s many shows,” said Kellin. “You are like him, do you know that?”

“I am not,” said Ailsbet hotly.

Kellin raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but you are. You hate him because he disdains you. And so you disdain him in return.”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“You disdain his lack of music. Even when you dance, you are mocking him. You do not think this
is true music.” He waved a hand at the handful of brightly dressed musicians who played gold and silver instruments without much sound.

“They are not,” said Ailsbet. How could there be any debate about that?

“You see?” said Kellin.

As Kellin moved away, King Haikor called Ailsbet over. She froze, knowing that tone of her father’s voice. “You do not choose your own husband, Princess,” he said.

“Of course not,” said Ailsbet, trying to remember how other ladies made her father believe that what they wanted was also what he wanted. “I know that you choose for me. But surely I can hint, as Lady Pippa hints about the jewels she wishes for?”

She lifted her eyes to catch King Haikor winking at her. “You like him, do you?” he asked.

“I like him very much, Father,” said Ailsbet, lying. In fact, she feared she had become dead to true feelings after what had happened to Lord Umber. She found Kellin—interesting.

“Hmm. Then we shall see. Perhaps he deserves a reward for his service to the crown,” said the king.

He was in a good mood, thought Ailsbet, watching as the king waved at Lady Pippa. “The smell of
wedding is in the air, eh?” he said, and slapped Ailsbet heartily on the back.

Ailsbet turned and saw Issa’s haunted expression and felt guilty. It was hardly her fault that the other princess had agreed to marry Prince Edik in five years’ time, but Ailsbet still wondered why her relationships with other women never ended well. Or, why they always ended. She could not be with other women of the court, and perhaps now she knew why. It was because of the taweyr.