Geldry screamed.
Adri heard her but did not stir. He had grown tired of Geldry’s tantrums and outbursts, her rages and furies. Let Kune deal with them. Her brother now lived permanently in the palace, always by his sister’s side, in her bedchamber . . . He had a seat at every Council already, and word was that he was a devilishly brilliant politician.
Vida kept trying to warn Adri about him, but Adri was weary of Vida’s warnings. If Kune wanted to involve himself in the swamp of Krushan politics, let him, by all means. Adri had no interest in politics—or in anything else. He had lost all interest in life itself since the attack at Riverdell. It would have been better if the attackers had killed him. By taking Sauvali, the only woman he had ever truly loved, they had wrenched his heart itself from his chest. He was bereft and broken. He could summon up no enthusiasm for anything anymore.
Those months with Sauvali had been wonderful, the most blissful time in his life. He had finally found true happiness in a world so full of pain and disappointment, and then it had been snatched away from him. Now all he could do was eat, drink—both as little as possible, only the bare minimum necessary for survival—and breathe. He did not attend Senate, or Council, even though Mother Jilana and Vrath both urged him repeatedly to do so, reminding him that he would soon be crowned samrat—emperor—and the more he involved himself with state affairs, the better it would be for his future. He did not care about his future, he did not care about the state, he cared about nothing. All he could think of was Sauvali and the time they had spent together.
At times, lying in bed, he felt as if he could reach out and touch her. But of course, she was gone. Emperor of the World, and yet the empire of his heart was desolate.
He heard someone enter his chambers, speaking roughly to his guard, who apologized and moved aside at once, announcing the visitor. “My lord, Prince Kune.”
Adri forced himself to assume an upright position. “Brother-in-law.”
“Adri, Geldry has done something. She needs help at once. Please come.”
Adri sighed. “I can’t deal with her outbursts, Kune.”
“This is something else. She . . .” Adri heard the note of panic in Kune’s voice and frowned. That sounded genuine. He had never heard Kune so scared. “She struck herself.”
Adri shook his head, not comprehending. “Struck herself?”
“Her belly. She struck her own belly, and . . . something came out.”
“I don’t understand, Kune. She struck her own belly? You mean the child?”
“Yes, yes. She struck at her belly to make herself birth the child. She was angry at hearing the news about Karni.”
Adri was confused. “News about Karni?”
Kune sounded exasperated and impatient. “We just received word from a visiting hermit that Karni and Shvate have had a son, the first heir to the Krushan throne.”
Suddenly Adri was alert and awake, for the first time in almost a year. He felt his face muscles move to form what sighted people called a smile. “That’s wonderful news! Happy day, Kune. My brother and sister-in-law have produced a son and heir. My nephew!”
“Yes, well, you can celebrate later. Right now, your wife needs you. She dislodged the child, and I am very concerned.”
“Dislodged?” Adri started to rise. “You mean she has given birth already? Two heirs in the same day? How fortuitous!”
“Not exactly.” Kune sounded harried. “I need you to send for Mother Jilana. I would do it, but she seems to . . . not like me very much. Besides, Geldry is your wife, this is your child too. Please send for her at once.”
“But she has given birth to our child, is that right?”
“No,” Kune said hollowly. “She has dropped something from her womb. But it is no child. That much is certain. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t a child, and it isn’t human.”