Chapter Six

ESOFI

 

The next morning, Esofi awoke to Adale’s body pressed tightly against her, as usual. It would have been nice to stay there all day and just enjoy the warmth of the blankets and the fire and Adale’s unfaltering affection. But they both had matters to attend to, and so Esofi forced herself to get up and dress.

Though her day would be busy, there were no formal or ceremonial events on her schedule. Nevertheless, she selected a Rhodian gown for the first time in what felt like a month, feeling a little bit like a bird trying to fluff up his feathers to drive away predators. Adale did not comment when she pulled the dress from her wardrobe, and even got up to help her with the complicated lacing in the back, even as Esofi protested that she could call Mireille for the task. Even with the continued presence of her mother, it was a relief to be back in Birsgen. Gaelle had certainly managed to take her by surprise in Fenstell, but Esofi liked to think that she had the advantage now, if not simply in the sheer number of people loyal to her—even with Lisette’s absence.

For Lisette had never made it back to Birsgen, or if she had, she hadn’t reported in to their majesties or anyone else at the castle. Esofi forced herself to be rational. Lisette had warned about this exact possibility the morning she’d left their camp and specifically told Esofi not to send people to search for her if she disappeared.

Esofi would respect Lisette’s wishes for now. But if she did not reemerge soon…

She would much rather see Lisette angry with her than see her dead.

Esofi pushed those thoughts away. They had only been gone for a little over a week, but there was a great deal to catch up on. Foremost among them was the priestess of Talcia. Last night, shortly before sundown, Archmage Eads had sent her a short note suggesting she might visit the temple and try to quell a dispute brewing between two of the priestesses before their majesties were forced to step in themselves. Esofi had sighed at the words, for even without any further details she knew precisely which two priestesses the court mage spoke of. Without a doubt, it was Asta and Eydis, the two most prominent candidates for archpriestess.

Asta was an experienced senior priestess, popular among both her colleagues and the university’s students. Some of the priestesses were openly disdainful of the newly blessed, viewing them as lesser due to the fact they had only been granted their magic in adulthood, rather than at birth. Asta had been the loudest opponent of this philosophy, and Esofi appreciated her for that.

Eydis was younger—too young to be named archpriestess, or so Asta claimed. Esofi was not so certain of that, though perhaps she was biased due to her own youth. Unlike Asta, Eydis was soft-spoken and had a reputation for settling disputes the old archpriestess did not have the energy to deal with. From her sweet nature, one might not guess she had one of the most powerful blessings in Birsgen. If it came to a duel, Esofi expected that Eydis would win over Asta through sheer brute force.

But then, Ieflarians were not as inclined to duel as Rhodians were.

Esofi tried to imagine how the most recent dispute between them had gone. Perhaps Asta had criticized Eydis loudly, and Eydis had responded by making some vague comment about women who claimed to understand Talcia’s serenity but bellowed like a street vendor, and the only reason it hadn’t come to a duel was the fact Asta knew that she would lose…

Esofi sighed and mentally prepared the lecture she’d already delivered several variations of. The Temple of Talcia had gone neglected for so many decades, it seemed the priestesses sometimes forgot they were once again in the public eye. And even with all that had happened in the last two years, not everyone trusted them the way they trusted the other temples, mostly due to Talcia’s association with dragons.

She wondered if threatening to cast them both out of the city and appoint herself archpriestess would carry any weight. Probably not, since the Temple of Talcia mandated that anyone seeking a rank beyond acolyte was required to renounce any titles they might hold, nor could they acquire any afterward. Most temples had similar policies, though not all did.

But before she could see to that, she had to meet with Queen Saski and King Dietrich. Ostensibly, it was to report on her time at Fenstell and her interactions with Ivanedi, and Esofi had dutifully composed a formal report that they could pass along to their own advisors. But she knew they were equally curious about the reappearance of Brandt and Svana. Esofi was still debating how exactly she would describe her mother’s actions in a way that would not offend their Ieflarian sensibilities.

Esofi had not given much thought to the twins after they’d been sent away from Birsgen in disgrace. She’d assumed they were still back at home. To learn that their parents had been angry enough to banish them to a defense camp was…surprising. Esofi had always had the impression that Ieflarians were exceptionally permissive parents.

She’d known from the very start that Adale didn’t like her cousins much. But until the kidnapping, it had seemed more like a petty rivalry than a cause for concern. As far as she could tell, there had been no single inciting event to cause the schism between them. If that had been the case, Esofi might have been more inclined to take a side. But at the time, she’d just viewed it as a silly grudge that ought to have been left behind in childhood.

To an extent, she still did.

She could not help it! Adale swore Brandt and Svana were awful, but Esofi had seen far worse behavior in Rhodia. They had only crossed the line when they had kidnapped Adale. And even then, they had not injured her or starved her or demanded a ransom. Life at the Rhodian court was not nearly so idyllic.

Perhaps she ought to resent them for attempting to steal Adale away from her. If they had been successful, if Mireille and Lisette had not uncovered their plot and corroborated Adale’s story, her life might be very different right now. But it was difficult for Esofi to get angry about something that had not happened. When she thought about what the twins had done to Adale, all she felt was annoyance and a little bit of disgust. That they would do something so childish, so foolish!

But the fact of the matter was, they were members of the royal family. Someday, one or both of them would control Valenleht, arguably Ieflaria’s most important port city. Esofi did not want them to be her adversaries.

Nor did she believe she or Adale was in any danger from them. If they’d wanted to murder Adale, they would have done so at the betrothal. If anything happened to Adale or Esofi now, they would be the first suspects. Even if Brandt and Svana were completely innocent, there was a fair chance they would still take the blame for anything that befell the princesses.

Certainly she would keep an eye on them, but she could not muster up any suspicion or hatred.

If she’d hated them, she would not have stepped between Svana and Gaelle.

She only hoped that Saski and Dietrich would be able to see it from her point of view.

Why had Talcia given the twins magic? It was something Adale had asked multiple times, and Esofi always retorted that perhaps Adale ought to ask her, which in turn prompted Adale to shout her question up at the ceiling. No response ever came.

Esofi entered Saski and Dietrich’s private rooms about an hour later. Stepping inside, she looked around to realize she was alone—there were no advisors or aides with them today. That could only mean they wanted to speak to her candidly. Esofi was not worried, though—they were always kind and understanding, even when she confused them.

“We’re so glad to have you back,” said Saski, taking Esofi by the hands. “Come, sit. We have questions for you.”

Esofi sat down at the table, where tea had been set for three.

“Adale told me that our courier never reached you?” Queen Saski asked.

“I’m afraid not,” said Esofi.

“I find that extremely odd. Our couriers are never anything but reliable, and it is not a terribly long distance between Birsgen and Fenstell. I wonder if something befell her?”

“I hope not,” said Esofi. “But I know you wish to understand why I have added Brandt and Svana to my retinue?”

“We know you would not do such a thing on a whim,” said Dietrich. “Nevertheless…”

“I promise, it was strictly necessary. When I met with my mother, we had…a bit of a disagreement regarding Carinth. Adale was so offended she made us leave. My mother is not used to being ignored. I believe she intended to challenge me to a duel.” A lie. “Lady Lexandrie stepped between us, and… my mother struck her. Before I could act, Svana stepped in. This offended my mother further, and she demanded Svana duel her. Lady Svana is a very talented mage, especially considering how late her blessing came, but she is nowhere near my mother’s level of skill. I can say with complete certainty that Svana would have been killed if she had accepted the challenge. So I appointed her my waiting lady on the spot and forbade her from accepting any duels.”

Dietrich and Saski both looked at each other. She could not tell what they were thinking.

“I do not mean to keep her in my service permanently,” added Esofi. “But I have found her conduct so far to be exemplary, as well as that of her brother. I believe their assignment in the north may have been good for the development of their characters.”

“Do you believe they may be in danger from your mother?” asked Dietrich pointedly.

“I…” Esofi floundered, knowing they would never understand. Saski’s frown deepened, and Esofi pulled herself together. “She will respect Ieflarian laws while she is here.”

“That is not terribly reassuring,” commented Dietrich.

“Rhodian culture is very different from the culture here,” said Esofi. “We are…not so forgiving, sometimes. And perhaps a little quick to anger.”

“Are you not a Rhodian, then?” asked Saski.

Esofi shrugged helplessly. “Not a very good one, some might say.”

“I disagree with that. We have had your ambassadors here in the past, and none of them ever behaved questionably. And what about your waiting ladies? Mireille is a very sweet girl, and Lisette is so quiet I hardly remember she exists.”

“Well, my mother may be in her own class of women,” Esofi granted. “I do apologize for anything she may have done before leaving for Fenstell.”

“She departed quickly when she learned you were not here,” said Saski. “We were surprised. We thought she might have urgent news for you. Some were even speculating something had gone terribly wrong in Rhodia.”

“No. She was just very eager to see Carinth. My mother is extremely devoted to Talcia, as you may have guessed. I think…she may still be trying to make sense of it.”

“What is there to make sense of?” asked Saski. “You restored her worship, and saved our nation. Why should Talcia not favor you?”

“Well, she is a quiet goddess,” said Esofi. “My mother has never been favored personally. So…”

“You think she is jealous of you?” asked Dietrich pointedly.

It sounded so terrible when he put it that way. Esofi shook her head. “Not jealous, precisely. Just…confused. She is certainly more devout than I and brings more worshippers than I have, and…I don’t think anyone in the world venerates Talcia as much as she does. I am sure she is wondering why I was favored before she was.”

“What use would Queen Gaelle have for a dragon egg?” asked Dietrich. “Rhodia is not threatened by their kind. My understanding has been that we intend for Carinth to bridge the gap between our races, to serve as an ambassador. Rhodia has no need for that, do they?”

“Well, no,” said Esofi.

“Carinth is not a symbol of your status with Talcia,” said Saski. “She did not give him to you as a trophy for defeating the Emperor. She gave him to you because we need him. He is your son and my grandson, and someday he will accomplish great things for Ieflaria and the Silver Isles.”

“I don’t disagree,” said Esofi. “But the heart is not always rational. I can see her perspective. But let me tell you of the dragon who came to Fenstell.”

Saski and Dietrich were willing to let her change the subject, and Esofi described her interactions with Ivanedi, including his invitation to the Silver Isles. She did not mention his abrupt departure when he learned about Gaelle’s presence. Esofi had not yet made sense of it, and Saski and Dietrich would only assume the worst.

“I would like to go the Silver Isles,” concluded Esofi. “I think the danger would be minimal, and Carinth would benefit greatly from it.”

“Perhaps in the spring?” suggested Saski. “Our people would be devastated if you were not here at midwinter, and I cannot imagine there are any accommodations for you there that would protect you from the weather.”

“Perhaps.” Esofi had not thought about where she would stay. The Silver Isles was nothing but forests and mountains and caves. There would not even be temporary structures unless she brought along workers to set something up quickly. But what if the dragons found such a thing offensive, or presumptuous? She did not want to cause an incident on her first day there, but she did not want to die of exposure, either.

Still, springtime was quite a long time to wait. Esofi wondered if she could visit the Isles and return safely before winter struck.

The meeting came to an end, and Dietrich had to leave, but Saski did not seem to be in a hurry. Servants brought in more tea, and Esofi thought it would be rude to leave in a hurry. They sat in peaceful silence for a while longer. Then Saski finally spoke.

“There is something I would like to tell you,” she said. “Though if you tell anyone I told you, I will deny it until my dying day.”

Esofi was intrigued. “All right,” she said, a half smile working its way across her face.

“I mean it,” said Saski. “I might even caution you against telling Adale until the time is right. I know she still sometimes struggles with discretion.”

“What is it, then?”

Saski seemed to hesitate a moment longer. Then she said, “What do you know of Irianthe Isinthi?”

Esofi had not been expecting this topic of conversation. “Emperor Ionnes’ mother?” she asked.

“Yes, the dowager empress,” Saski confirmed.

“I’ve never met her,” said Esofi. “But I have heard she is…secretive, or at least a bit shy. She gave her throne to her son the moment he came of age. I might have thought he coerced her into it, but by all accounts, she never cared for her title.”

“You are correct,” said Saski. “If she were any other woman, I might think Ionnes tricked or threatened her to gain the throne. But I knew Irianthe, if only a little. You never saw a woman so uncomfortable to be the center of attention. Men have killed and died for that throne, but she would have traded it all in an instant in exchange for a quiet library—and in the end, she did exactly that. I understand that she is much happier now.”

“Well, that is good, I suppose,” said Esofi, wondering what any of this odd story had to do with her.

“And what do you know of Ionnes’ father?”

“His…?” Esofi paused. “Emperor Ionnes has no named father.”

It was a rare thing for a noblewoman, let alone an Empress, to refuse to name a co-parent, but Esofi supposed the former Empress had been in a position to do whatever she wanted. Irianthe had never married, either. If Esofi had to guess, she would assume Ionnes’ father was perhaps a Xytan noble or perhaps a Companion that Irianthe had only used for the sake of having a requisite child. But really, it was none of her concern. Ionnes was Irianthe’s son, and now he was the Emperor.

“Empress Irianthe found the thought of giving birth to be repulsive,” said Saski. “So when she announced her pregnancy, it was quite a surprise. She spent the duration of that time in seclusion, though nobody knows precisely where she went. Even her closest confidants were each told the names of different cities. She claims it was because she feared assassins, but I do not believe that was the truth of the matter.”

“You do not believe Ionnes is Irianthe’s son?”

“Oh, there is no question that he is her son. The resemblance between them is unmistakable. But I do not believe she gave birth to him.”

“You think she was Changed?”

“No,” said Saski. “Else there would be no need for secrecy. I believe the Xytan priestesses of Dayluue did something that has never been attempted in Ioshora. I believe they created Ionnes using magic.”

“What?” Esofi had never heard such a thing in her life, and she was not certain if she was more offended by the idea that priestesses would attempt to twist Dayluue’s will in such a way, or the implication that the experiment had been a success. “Why—how—”

“It was not precisely a secret that Irianthe Insinthi felt no attraction to anyone, man or woman or neutroi. I believe that it was not just pregnancy that she found repulsive. But at the same time, she knew that an heir would be the only way she could free herself of her title without leaving Xytae in chaos.”

Esofi shook her head. “I am sorry. I do not mean to be rude, but I cannot believe such a thing. Children cannot be created by magic. It is impossible.”

“Not purely by magic,” agreed Saski. “I believe the priestesses took something from Irianthe, some part of her essence, to create her child. If anyone could attempt such a thing, let alone succeed, it would be the Temple of Dayluue, wouldn’t it? But I am not telling you this story so that we may discuss rituals.”

“Why, then?” asked Esofi.

“I merely want you to know of all the possibilities that exist in this world,” said Saski. “You and Adale are young. You are caring for Carinth. I do not expect grandchildren immediately, especially given how busy you are keeping yourself. But if you ever find that you relate to Empress Irianthe’s circumstances—”

“No!” said Esofi, horrified.

“Then I shall not mention it again,” said Saski. “I only wished for you to know that you are not without options. And even if you do not require it for yourself, perhaps someday you will be able to aid someone else with this knowledge.”

 

IT WAS QUIET and very warm in Lady Catrin’s room. She was sitting upright in a chair with a very small bundle in her arms and smiling brightly when Adale and Esofi entered.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, clearly very happy despite the exhaustion in her face. “It’s so good to see you. I hope your journey went well?”

“It did,” said Esofi. “I think the dragons are feeling more amicable now than they were when we last saw them.” She leaned in to look down at the baby. It was no different than any other baby Esofi had ever seen. Only a few days old, it was as red and scrunched-up as any newborn, with a slightly asymmetrical head. When it squinted up at them, she saw dark grey eyes.

“We named him Michi,” said Catrin.

A boy, then. Probably. There was no telling what he’d end up as in the end. For now, they could only give their best guess.

Neutroi usually declared themselves in childhood or early adolescence. It was rare for one to be born, though when it did happen, it was considered extremely good luck. Of course, a neutroi baby might very well declare themselves to be male or female later in life. But people never turned down an excuse to celebrate.

“Would you like to hold him?” Catrin asked Esofi.

Esofi did not. She did not want baby spit on her dress. But it would have been rude to refuse, so she awkwardly took the child into her arms. Adale, meanwhile, went to find a place to set down the gift they’d brought, a little package wrapped in simple red fabric. The table was full of similar things.

“Just set it anywhere!” said Catrin. “You can put it on a chair, if there’s no room—oh! Here, you can move that plate…”

Catrin lurched to her feet, despite Adale and Esofi’s protests, and took a dish filled with unusual-looking round pastries from the table. Adale set the gift down in the space it had occupied.

“Now I have a good excuse to finish these,” said Catrin, glancing down at the dish. “Here, try one—they’re from Coplon. I haven’t decided if I like them or not.”

Trying to pick up a pastry while working very, very hard to not drop a newborn baby on the floor was not something Esofi would ever want to try again. Adale immediately realized the problem and came over to aid her. Luckily, this baby was peaceful and did not begin screaming, not even when Esofi adjusted her grip on him a few times before she found a comfortable way to hold him with only one hand.

“I wonder if he will have a blessing,” Catrin mused. “I know it’s far too early to tell, but I can’t help but be curious.”

“He seems so fragile,” Esofi observed. “I hardly trust myself with him. It’s strange. At three days old, Carinth was already climbing my skirt.”

Catrin laughed. “I do not know if I am envious of you or not. Perhaps after a week of screaming, I will be. But I am sure you will have a child of your own soon enough. A little prince, maybe?”

“Perhaps,” said Esofi.

“Is that why your mother has come?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. She only wished to see Carinth.”

“Oh, of course. Still, if you did, it would be nice to have her with you. It can be frightening, the first time.”

“My mother does not care much for babies, I’m afraid,” said Esofi. “I expect I’d find her about as useful as a priestess of Reygmadra. But never mind. I’m far too busy to think about such things now. Perhaps next year, or the year after.”

“Don’t wait too long, or people will worry.”

But they already were worrying.

Esofi looked down at the baby again. He was about as handsome as a lump of firewood. She felt nothing for him, no stirring of maternal love. But then, perhaps that was to be expected? He was not hers, after all. Still, she knew some people adored babies, no matter who the parents were.

She could only hope that when it came time to have her own, she would feel differently.

More visitors came in, and Adale and Esofi took advantage of the opportunity to excuse themselves. Esofi did not realize that she’d fallen into a pensive silence until Adale slipped her hand into Esofi’s and whispered, “Are you all right?”

Esofi did not reply, wordlessly signaling that she didn’t want to discuss what was on her mind until they were safely alone. When they arrived back at their rooms, Mireille was playing with Carinth, as usual. Brandt and Svana were both gone, and Esofi hoped they had the sense to stay away from Gaelle. There was still no sign of Lisette.

Mireille called a cheerful greeting without getting up off the carpet, and Esofi realized that this was because Cream was sitting in her lap, rendering her trapped. Esofi managed to keep a neutral smile on her face until she and Adale were safely alone in their own bedroom.

“What’s the matter?” asked Adale, once the door clicked shut behind them. But Esofi struggled to find the words to explain.

“Was it Catrin’s baby?” asked Adale. “I’ve already forgotten his name.”

Esofi nodded.

“We have time,” Adale assured her. “I know women who have children when they are past thirty, and the priestesses say most women are safe until thirty-five, and some even later than that!”

“It’s not that,” said Esofi.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“What if I don’t like it?” she whispered. “What if I hate it?”

“Why would you?”

“I don’t know. Why do any mothers hate their children?”

“Well…” Adale struggled, “I think…that’s rare.”

“But it does happen. What if I hate it so much that I kill it?”

“What!” Now Adale was alarmed. “You’d never do something like that!”

“You don’t know that. None of us can know that. It might happen.”

“You love Carinth. You’d never harm him.”

“Carinth is different! Babies are different from dragons! We both know that!”

For hatchlings did not scream at all hours of the day and night. They did not require the constant care newborn babies did. They seemed to be cleaner, and more self-sufficient as well. Having Carinth was more like adopting a child that was already out of infancy.

Their rank meant that Esofi could probably get away with letting nursemaids and priestesses raise their child, but she did not want that. Children knew when their parents did not love them.

“I don’t think you’d hate a baby,” said Adale very slowly. “Let alone hate it enough to kill it.”

What kind of people killed their own children? The stereotype for that sort of behavior was uneducated chaos cultists out in remote areas who did unspeakable things in the name of evil gods. But Esofi had spent enough time studying the law to know this was not always the case. Most murderers did not spend their days wearing hooded capes indoors and rubbing their hands together gleefully like characters in a stage-play. Most of them lived ordinary lives until they were caught. To think of them only as monsters nobody sensible would ever trust was tempting, but it was not true to reality.

Besides, Esofi knew strange things could happen to mothers after they gave birth, a sort of temporary melancholy that occasionally turned to madness. The priestesses of Pemele and Dayluue swore that it could happen to anyone and was not indicative of a wicked nature. She did not really know anything about it beyond that.

“Well,” said Adale. “Your mother never killed any of hers. And you have a much better temper than she does.”

“She might have, if she hadn’t been allowed to hand us off to the nurses. I hardly saw her until I was old enough to begin learning to use my magic.”

Adale drew Esofi into her arms. “You are not her,” she whispered. “I promise you’re not. But if you’re that frightened of it, we don’t have to. We’ll find someone else to pass the throne to.”

Unacceptable, said Esofi’s upbringing. If you can’t produce heirs, you are not worthy of your title.

“I don’t know what I want,” said Esofi aloud.

“Good, then we match,” Adale smiled. “Look at everything you’ve done. You haven’t even been in the country two years and you’ve already accomplished so much. Nobody can criticize you for not wanting a baby.”

“Of course they can,” said Esofi. “And they will.”

“All right, they can. But that’s all they can do. And nobody ever died of criticism. But if it means that much to you, I know we can bribe the Temple of Dayluue to claim I’m infertile.”

“You can’t bribe a temple!” Esofi cried, scandalized.

“Of course you can. You can bribe anyone.”

“What if you want a baby?” asked Esofi. “What if you hate me for not wanting one?”

Adale laughed. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that. Besides, I could never love something that doesn’t exist more than I love you.”

It was not the first time Adale had said these words to her, but hearing them again was reassuring. She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. “I wish I could just go back to sleep. But I need to see to the Temple of Talcia next.”

“I’d go with you, but my parents are expecting me to review a few cases that are going before the Temple of Iolar soon,” said Adale. “There’s been a development in that case with the counterfeiter. Sorry, the alleged counterfeiter. They think he might have once had Inthi’s fire—which explains why the fakes were so good—but his magic was revoked.”

“Revoked?” Esofi’s eyes widened in surprise. She had heard stories of such things—rumors and legends with varying degrees of credibility—but never encountered the phenomenon herself. It was supposed to be very difficult to displease the gods enough to have one’s blessing rescinded.

“I need to review the details,” said Adale. “But yes. The Temple of Iolar is taking it to mean he’s guilty of something, counterfeiter or not. And I hate to agree with them, but…”

“Would counterfeiting be enough for Inthi to rescind a blessing? Or should we be looking for evidence of something worse?”

“That’s what I thought, but having your blessing taken away isn’t against the law, so we might have a hard time justifying another investigation. At least, that’s what my father said. I think he wants me to try to find a legal loophole. I’m sure he already knows one. He just wants to see if I can work it out for myself.” Adale rolled her eyes. “Want to trade? You deal with this, and I’ll tell the priestesses to stop pulling each other’s hair.”

Esofi went to her mirror to check on her hair and make-up, to verify that they had not been damaged by Lady Catrin’s baby. She adjusted her curls and retrieved a cloak suitable for the colder weather. Adale, meanwhile, settled herself at the desk with a stack of papers and set to work. Not wanting to disturb her, Esofi pressed a very soft kiss to the top of her head before setting off.

Esofi stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. As she turned to lock it, she heard a familiar voice from behind her say, “Let’s see about this University of yours, then.”

Esofi had seen nothing of Gaelle since their return to Birsgen. Now she stood before Esofi again, so tall and thin and terribly cold. She wore a heavy fur-lined cloak over an emerald green dress, and one hand clutched a pair of gloves.

“The University?” Esofi repeated. Her eyes darted, briefly, to the bedroom door. Adale was just on the other side of it. She would probably hear Esofi if she called. But Esofi didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, Adale had work to do.

And Esofi was a grown woman. She could handle dragons, and she could handle her own mother.

“Why shouldn’t I be curious?” asked Gaelle. “And since I’ve little else to do, I thought I might tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

“Well there’s not much to see—” began Esofi, and that was the truth. The new university at Birsgen was still under construction, with just enough of it standing to hold classes if one did not mind exposure to the elements and the noise of the laborers.

“Regardless,” said Gaelle blithely. “I know you’re going to the Temple of Talcia now. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“And the University is on the same grounds?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Gaelle. “Honestly, Esofi, I don’t understand why you make these things so difficult.”

Esofi allowed herself a tiny sigh. “Is Lexandrie coming?”

“No. I’m tired of looking at her.” Gaelle adjusted her cloak. “Don’t just stand there, I don’t have all day.”

Rhodian dresses were a little inconvenient for meandering through half-completed buildings, but since she was trapped with her mother for the next few hours, Esofi was glad she’d decided to wear one. It was irrational, but she really did feel more formidable in it.

The day was cold, and when Esofi stepped out of the carriage she thought of how much Carinth would hate it, followed by a great deal of relief that she’d decided to leave him behind with Adale before Gaelle intercepted her.

Was that wrong of her? Despite everything, Gaelle was his grandmother as much as Saski was. And she did not seem to mean him any harm—certainly she’d shown him more kindness than any of her children. But her declaration that she would take him back to Rhodia disturbed her. She had not raised the subject again, but even knowing she was contemplating it put Esofi on edge.

Esofi pushed those thoughts away and looked at Gaelle. She was surveying the half-constructed building with a critical eye.

“I know it must seem small, but we had to work with the land available. We’re planning to build upward, instead of outward.” Esofi gestured to the high, half-completed walls. “The largest part of it will be like a tower, when it is complete. They have the designs in the temple, if you’d like to see.”

Gaelle did not respond, so Esofi pressed on.

“The lower levels will be for instructing the newer students. Then we’ll have the library. I am already gathering materials for the collection.” Though the priestesses of Talcia were refusing to part with some of the older tomes in the temple’s possession, even as Esofi protested they were giving up nothing, as the University would be under their own guidance.

It seemed they did not entirely trust her, even now.

Nevertheless, Esofi thought her relationship with the temple was good. They all knew it was due to her arrival in Ieflaria that Talcia’s worship had been restored, and there were more attendants at the monthly Lunar Services than there had been in decades.

“Am I meant to be impressed?” asked Gaelle.

“Why start now?” Esofi replied evenly, surprising herself with the words. Gaelle stared at her in confusion and Esofi curled her fingers, ready to call up a shield if she needed one. But after a moment, Gaelle laughed. Esofi exhaled through her nose.

“Well, let’s visit the temple,” Esofi said. “Perhaps the archpriestess will be about today.”

The Great Temple of Talcia was only minutes away from the University-to-be. When Esofi and Gaelle ascended the dark marble steps to the courtyard, there were a few younger acolytes tending to the flowers and those few birds that had not fled to Vesolda when the weather turned. When the acolytes spotted her, they all leapt to their feet and crowded around her, chattering excitedly.

“Did you bring Carinth today?” asked one.

“I’m afraid not,” said Esofi. This received a chorus of disappointed sighs.

“I want a baby dragon of my own,” said one of the girls. “Every night I ask Talcia to give me an egg.”

Esofi had to laugh at that. “It’s more work than you’d think.”

“I don’t mind! I don’t!”

From behind her, Gaelle made an irritated noise. Esofi forced herself to keep smiling. “Is the archpriestess about today?”

In unison, all the girls shook their heads.

“We haven’t seen her in ages,” whispered the eldest one. “She doesn’t come to meals anymore. Eydis sings the moonrise songs for her now. And Asta is leading this month’s Lunar Service again.”

“That is to be expected. She has served Talcia for so many years. She has more than earned her rest.” Esofi smiled comfortingly. “I will bring Carinth next time I visit, if it’s not too cold.”

But the girls had caught sight of Gaelle and their smiles were fading. A few of the younger ones edged back in the direction of the temple. Esofi wasn’t sure how much they had heard about Gaelle, but it was evident they had been told something.

“Well, I need to go,” said Esofi, and the relief on the girls’ faces was a little insulting.

Inside the temple’s atrium was quiet, but Esofi knew a class for the newly blessed was happening in the large, open area where services took place on a monthly basis. The students were learning quickly, more so than expected. It seemed that being granted magic later in life was less of a disadvantage than she’d initially presumed it might be.

“Princess!” yelled a familiar voice. Esofi turned to see Asta striding toward them, her heavy silver bracelets clanging against one another. “You did not tell us to expect you!”

If there was one thing Esofi disliked about Asta, it was the fact that there was little difference in the voice she used to lead services and the voice she used to address others. Esofi tried to whisper around her, in hopes that she might catch the hint and adjust her own volume, but Asta never did.

“It’s all right, Asta. We were just hoping to view the plans for the university.”

“Then this must be…” Asta’s eyes narrowed before she sank into a rapid curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

“Is everyone here so familiar with you?” asked Gaelle in Rhodian.

“It’s different here, Mother,” replied Esofi in a voice a little sharper than she had intended. Asta lifted her head, frowning. “It’s all right, Asta. Let’s have a look at those drawings.”

“I will bring them for you.” Asta turned and strode from the room, in the direction of the staircase that led to the temple’s private library. This was unusual because normally Esofi would just go up to the library herself. But it seemed the acolytes were not the only ones uncomfortable with Gaelle’s presence.

Just as Asta disappeared up the stairs, the doors to the main area of the temple opened and another young woman stepped out.

“Oh, Princess,” said Eydis. “You’ve returned from Fenstell!”

“Yes, but don’t let me interrupt you if you’re teaching.”

“Oh no, I’m not teaching today. I’d only stepped in for a moment to oversee.” Eydis smiled and glanced down toward Esofi’s feet. “You didn’t bring Carinth today?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“That’s too bad,” sighed Eydis. “Well, never mind. I’m sorry the archpriestess is not taking any visitors today. She has been…a little confused, these last few days.”

“I understand,” said Esofi. “And it’s fine. I just sent Asta to bring the plans for the University. My mother wished to see them.”

“Actually, I don’t really care,” came Gaelle’s voice from somewhere behind her.

“The construction is coming along so quickly!” Esofi said to Eydis, determined to ignore both her mother’s words and the way they’d made her heartbeat falter. “How have things been here?”

“Oh…” Eydis wrung her hands together, eyes locked still on Gaelle. “We’re fine. We’re all fine. How was your meeting at Fenstell?”

“It went very well, I think,” said Esofi. Or at least it had until the impromptu ending. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about dragon attacks for a very long time.”

Eydis clearly wanted to say more, but perhaps Gaelle’s presence was too intimidating. Fortunately, Asta was quick to return, bearing the familiar drawings in her hands. Once she arrived, Eydis mumbled something about tea and vanished again.

Esofi had known from the start that there would be no way to pull Eydis and Asta aside and remind them of the temple’s fragile reputation without her mother overhearing. And she could just imagine what Gaelle would say if she found out the priestesses had been bickering in public. Esofi would never hear the end of it. She would have to try again another day or hope they got the message from her presence alone.

“There’s a room this way,” Esofi said to Gaelle, gesturing off to the side. “We can sit there, instead of standing out in the open.”

The room was small and would not fit more than three or four people at most. It had been used for storage until the resurgence of Talcia’s worship. Some of the newly blessed students had started studying there when classes were not in session. It was empty today, save for the little table and few chairs that were always there.

Despite her mother’s words to the contrary, Esofi could see the interest in her eyes as she looked over the drawings. For a few minutes, they sat in peaceful silence, until Gaelle set the designs down on the table between them.

“You should support the younger one,” said Gaelle idly.

“What?”

“The younger priestess. For archpriestess. She is soft. She will be easier to control.”

I do not wish to control her. Esofi did not say it aloud because she knew that would only get a scornful laugh from Gaelle. Instead she glanced to the door to make sure it was truly closed and said, “You may be right. But even so, that is no guarantee she will be named.”

It was not so in Rhodia. In Rhodia, Gaelle’s support was more akin to a mandate, and everyone knew it. No archpriest had been appointed that she or Esofi’s father did not publicly support first.

“I want a Silence established here,” said Gaelle.

Esofi stared at her hands.

“Did you hear me?”

“There are not enough worshippers,” said Esofi, clenching her fists in her lap.

“Esofi, what have you been doing for the last two years?” Gaelle snapped. “You failed to identify Carinth’s blessing, your ‘university’ is a pile of stones, and you have no heir! I should have known the moment you were out of my sight, you would revert to your old ways.”

There was no point in arguing. There never was. But Esofi’s silence seemed to annoy Gaelle further.

“There is no reason for you to not have at least one child by now,” Gaelle went on. “Unless, of course, you are failing to keep the Crown Princess’s attention.”

Esofi nearly jumped out of her seat. It was only the small size of the room that kept her in place. “What?”

“Well, let’s be realistic, Esofi. I know her reputation. And—well, just look at you. I’d hardly call you two an ideal match.”

“We’re—”

“You need to give more thought to your appearance before you lose her completely.”

“That isn’t going to happen!”

“I know you believe that, but I’ve seen how these things go.” Gaelle sat back in her seat. “I suggest you take my words to heart before it’s too late to salvage things.”

“Stop it,” said Esofi, her voice rising sharply. “You don’t even believe what you’re saying! You’re only trying to hurt me!”

The door opened, and Esofi’s mouth snapped shut. An acolyte in pale blue robes held a tea-tray in one hand, her eyes wide and face stricken.

“I—I’m sorry—” squeaked the girl. Esofi rose and took the tray from her hands before Gaelle could reprimand her for entering without knocking first. The girl turned and fled, her footsteps echoing on the stone.

“I’m the only one who will tell you the truth. You should be grateful for that,” said Gaelle as Esofi set the tray down on the table. “Look around you! By the Ten, do you think there’s a single Ieflarian who would tell you something you didn’t want to hear? They all know you will be their queen someday!”

“All this just because I don’t want to establish a Silence?” asked Esofi. Her nose stung with the effort of holding back tears, and she turned to sit down so she could calm herself without Gaelle seeing. Then she took one of the teacups from the tray so she would have a good excuse to not look her mother in the eye.

She knew her mother was only grasping wildly at anything she thought might get a reaction out of Esofi, that the words themselves were meaningless. But for some reason, that did not make it hurt any less. Gaelle might be correct, if only by accident. She’d been pushing Adale away, so much so that Adale had begged her to stop.

How much more could she except Adale to tolerate?

“Oh, so now you’re ready to talk about the Silence?” asked Gaelle.

“The Temple of Talcia is still weak! If I pull it in two, neither organization will be an asset to me, or to you!”

“To me?” Gaelle repeated. “Is that what this is about?”

Esofi fell silent, but a thin smile stretched across Gaelle’s lips.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Gaelle. “You left Rhodia so quickly, after all. That’s hardly remarkable, all my children seem to run from me, but…yes. You think establishing a Silence here would give me a foothold. And you don’t want that. You’re having such a lovely time, after all. If I was around, trying to hold you to my standards, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”

Esofi said nothing.

“You thought you’d outrun me, hadn’t you?” asked Gaelle. “Don’t you realize I’m the one who sent you here in the first place? You’re exactly where I’ve always intended you to be. But do not flatter yourself. My desire for a Silence has nothing to do with you. It is purely for the veneration of Talcia.”

“I do not believe you.”

“What other motive would I have? You think I care anything for this miserable country of mud and sheep and impertinent peasants when my own kingdom is so very near to perfection? Or did you think I sought power over you, as though I do not have that already?” Gaelle reached forward, and Esofi flinched away instinctively, all thoughts of calling up a protective barrier scattering like frightened mice. But Gaelle’s hand had not been raised in anger. Instead, she curled her fingers around Esofi’s chin and held it.

“I could break you so easily,” said Gaelle. There was no malice in her voice, only calm certainty. “But what in the world would I do with the pieces?”