AS WINTER DEEPENED, things did not improve between Ailsbet and Lord Umber. Even his teasing while they were in court together seemed at an end, and he hardly looked at her if he could avoid it. He certainly did not come to her chambers again, and Ailsbet wished that she knew what to do to heal things between them. But there was her taweyr to be concerned about, so she had to keep her distance from him. Meanwhile, since Duke Kellin had returned from the north, the king’s court seemed much as it was before.
One early morning, not long after it had grown light, Lady Maj came to see Ailsbet in her chambers, wearing a puce gown with matching ribbons in her elaborate wig. “Your mother wishes to see you,” she said.
Ailsbet was annoyed. She was busy with her flute, and her mother inevitably made her wait, or when she did speak, nattered on about her duties as a princess. “Tell her I shall come tomorrow,” said Ailsbet.
Lady Maj shook her head, her wig shifting from side to side. She must have been in a hurry this morning, and she had not secured it well. Ailsbet could see the pain on her face, and the difficulty with which she walked.
Why had her mother sent this woman, of all of her ladies in waiting? She had to be the oldest of them all, and she was the least capable. But she was also the most loyal.
“It must be today, Princess Ailsbet. Right now, this moment. Tonight might be too late.” She looked paler than usual, and there was a beaded line of sweat along her forehead.
“Is my mother ill?” Ailsbet asked. Perhaps if she got permission from King Haikor, she might call for a woman healer who was strong in neweyr, though they were usually banned from the palace.
“No,” said Lady Maj. Her eyes flickered around the sparsely furnished room.
“What then?” Ailsbet was impatient.
“She is dying,” said Lady Maj.
“She has been saying she is dying for years,” said Ailsbet.
Lady Maj said nothing.
Ailsbet saw the woman’s trembling hands. She was fairly certain that Lady Maj would have preferred not to speak to her at all. Ailsbet was not anything like what Lady Maj would have wanted for the queen’s daughter.
“I shall come,” said Ailsbet.
In the queen’s large and normally cold outer chambers, Ailsbet felt heat pouring from the fire-place. Lady Maj beckoned her to the inner chamber, but Ailsbet hesitated at the door, afraid of what she would find within. She could not recall ever being in her mother’s inner chamber before. The queen liked to keep her privacy, and of her ladies, only Lady Maj served her there.
With a gulp of air to sustain her, she stepped inside, with Lady Maj beind her.
Her mother lay in her bed on the other side of the large room, a sour smell in the air. Her hair had been swept off her face so that her bones seemed to shine through her paper-thin skin. Veins stood out clearly as paint, and her eyes were sunken. Her hands were white on the embroidered coverlet.
“Is that Ailsbet?” the queen whispered.
“It is Ailsbet, my queen,” said Lady Maj.
Queen Aske lifted a hand. “Alone,” she said.
Ailsbet could feel Lady Maj departing, and then the door was closed behind her. Ailsbet gave a small curtsy and then stepped back, her head bowed, but her mother beckoned her forward. Her mother had always seemed so out of place in her father’s court, but she had still been queen. Here, in her own chambers, she seemed so shrunken.
“Poison,” said Queen Aske, and as she understood, Ailsbet felt sick.
Her father could have killed her mother in easier ways, but King Haikor was known for poisoning his most hated enemies.
“Are you sure?” Ailsbet asked. And then the face of Lady Pippa flashed into her mind.
Queen Aske took a shallow breath, and for a moment, Ailsbet thought she would not breathe again.
But then she said, “Only one who truly has no neweyr could ask such a thing.”
Ailsbet flushed. She had not come to be chastised by her mother for her lack of neweyr.
“There was a time when he was happy with me, and with Edik as his heir. But now all that is over,” the queen got out.
Ailsbet should say something, should declare vengeance against her father. But she did not.
Queen Aske shook her head slightly. “I knew I would not live to see Edik crowned. I am glad I lived to see you grow up.”
Ailsbet was surprised at this. The queen had never shown much interest in her daughter. She suddenly wondered if it was her mother’s influence that had brought Master Lukacs from the continent, and not her father’s, as she had always assumed before.
“Ailsbet, you must—” The queen coughed and could not stop. Blood began to drip from her nose.
Ailsbet stepped forward and held her mother. It was all she could think to do, though it felt strange to touch her when she had kept herself apart from the queen for so long.
After some minutes, her mother seemed able to breathe again freely, and Ailsbet pulled back.
“He has already told the court that I am dead,” the queen said, nodding at the door. “That is why I am left alone, with only Lady Maj to see me to the end. But it is just as well, for I do not want them to know what I have to say to you, Ailsbet. They see you as even less important than I, but it is not true.” She drew a shaky breath.
Ailsbet put her hand on her mother’s frigid skin.
“You must stay here. The prophecy,” Queen Aske said.
“What prophecy?” said Ailsbet.
“The two islands. They must come together,” said the queen. “It is a prophecy from Weirland, but I believe it is true. Ailsbet, you must help your brother come to the throne and make sure that he marries the princess from Weirland.”
Of course, it must be Edik and never Ailsbet who mattered. She had been called to her mother’s deathbed to help her brother, not herself. “What do you want me to do?” asked Ailsbet.
“Refuse to marry Umber, for that will make him a rival for your brother. Help ensure that the other princess takes the throne with Edik, and that they have the full support of all the nobles in Rurik. Marlissa has the neweyr that you do not,” gasped the queen. “With her neweyr and Edik’s taweyr, the weyrs may be combined again, and so may the kingdoms.”
And in the end, Ailsbet was useless, ekhono.
“If you can, keep your father from marrying—her,” the queen went on.
Her, meaning Lady Pippa, no doubt.
“Or if he marries her, make sure that she does not have his children.”
How was Ailsbet to do that? She could poison them, she supposed. But surely, her mother did not mean that.
“Ailsbet, I know—” the queen began coughing violently.
Ailsbet held her mother again, and when she seemed calm, she said, “Mother—”
But Queen Aske’s eyes had closed and her lips were tinged blue, her face gray.
Ailsbet let out a long, low cry. She had not been close to her mother in life, but now, suddenly, she felt her loss keenly. She also felt the weight of the burden she had been given. Was it Princess Marlissa who would fulfill this Weirese prophecy with Edik?
Thoughts swirled around her like a storm. She had not heard of a betrothal between Edik and Princess Marlissa of Weirland before now, but of course now she could see that must have been why Duke Kellin had been sent north. And what of her own betrothal to Lord Umber? Now that Princess Marlissa had accepted Edik’s hand, was Umber in danger? Was she?
At last, Ailsbet went to the door and opened it.
“She is dead?” Lady Maj asked, risingly slowly to her feet.
Ailsbet nodded.
“I shall see to her.”
“Wait.” Ailsbet held her back. “Was she truly poisoned by my father?”
Lady Maj stared at Ailsbet. “To the end, your mother loved him and tried to protect him.”
“Lady Maj, did he kill her?” Ailsbet asked again.
Lady Maj stared into Ailsbet’s eyes. “You know the truth already, Princess Ailsbet. You know what your father has become. How selfish, how mired in his own pleasures.”
“She spoke of a prophecy,” said Ailsbet. “Do you know what it says?”
Lady Maj’s eyes fluttered. “I don’t know of any prophecy.” It was clearly a lie.
“Tell me of the prophecy,” said Ailsbet harshly. “If you do not, I shall ask everyone in the court about it until I find out the truth.”
That was enough, apparently, for Lady Maj. “It is forbidden to speak of it, on pain of death. It has not been spoken of for years, except in secret. It is a Weirese belief, though there are some in Rurik who share it.”
“What is it?” Would the woman not spit it out? Ailsbet felt hot again.
“Only that the two weyrs will be magically combined again, and that the thrones will be one,” said Lady Maj. “Some say a royal child will inherit both magics, taweyr from his father and neweyr from his mother, and with that power, he will be able to do miraculous things.
“Your mother believed in it all her days. It was one of the reasons she married your father. She thought because your uncle was ekhono that it meant the weyr in his line was more fluid.”
“What?” said Ailsbet in astonishment. She had heard many rumors about her uncle, who had died young, but never this one.
“Your father’s elder brother, Achter, was ekhono. I thought you knew.”
Ailsbet shook her head.
“It was the reason he is never spoken of,” said Lady Maj. “It was thought best for the kingdom and the new king.”
“Is that why the king is so vicious in his treatment of the ekhono?” Ailsbet asked.
“He cannot allow there to be any doubt about Prince Edik’s taweyr,” said Lady Maj.
“But Edik has shown his taweyr,” said Ailsbet. “I’ve seen it. And he is young. He should easily expect to grow into more.”
“Has he shown it? Are you sure?” said Lady Maj. “His tutors have reason to make sure their charge shows well before the king.”
It had never occurred to Ailsbet to doubt that her brother would come into his full taweyr. But now she had to know the truth. Was any of the taweyr she had seen Edik’s own?