Chapter Thirteen

IOANNA

 

Word of her blessing was spreading like wildfire. She’d thought their reception at Enona had been an unusual fluke, a combination of lucky timing and the Order of the Sun’s history in the area. But when they were stopped in a midsized town they’d only planned to pass through quietly by a crowd of people asking to see the future empress, she had to admit Aelia was correct.

People wanted to see her. They wanted to know if her blessing was real.

It was such a silly, selfish thing to care about, but Ioanna truly could not wait for the day she was formally assessed, and nobody would be able to question her blessing ever again. She was not offended by their skepticism, for she would be equally so if their positions were reversed. But the questions, the endless questions, were beginning to tire her. Now she found she looked forward to the days they spent between towns, regardless of how uncomfortable the tents were compared to true beds.

They never again received a reception as cold as the one at Lysera, but not all the nobles Ioanna solicited agreed to provide support. Some simply had nothing to give, for their situations were too desperate. Others were openly uncomfortable with Ioanna’s presence, and though they were never rude enough to order her out, she could tell they wanted her gone and trying to reason with them would be a waste of everyone’s time.

One morning, Ioanna woke late and wondered why nobody had come to rouse her. They were meant to be off to the next town as soon as possible, for they’d already been delayed enough. Vitaliya was still sound asleep beside her, and so Ioanna got up quietly to see what was going on.

When she stepped out of her tent, her heart stopped. A group of soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms had gathered in their camp. One was explaining something to Orsina, who had one hand lightly placed over her sword in a way that suggested she was not certain whether or not she believed his words. Ioanna went over to them.

“Dame Orsina. Who is this?” asked Ioanna.

“We have come from Duona, to the north,” explained the one who had been speaking to Orsina. Ioanna nodded, for she was familiar with the city. They hadn’t planned to stop there, for it seemed unlikely they’d find any support with the count—he was known to be a frequent visitor to Xyuluthe. “We have been sent to aid your cause.”

“Count Saverio sent you?” Ioanna raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. I’ve a letter from him.” He reached into his coat and passed it over. “When news of your blessing reached us, he asked for volunteers among the city guard to join with you.”

“I see,” said Ioanna. She could detect no lies from him or the letter, but she could not help but be a little suspicious. “You truly wish to serve my cause?”

“On our honor, we will see you crowned empress,” he said solemnly. “You are the rightful heir, and even if you were not…this war must come to an end before Xytae is nothing but a hollow shell.”

“I am surprised,” said Ioanna. “I’d no intention of soliciting Count Saverio. I did not believe he would take any interest in my words. Nevertheless, I’m glad he took the initiative to find me. This will not be forgotten.”

“Be wary, though,” the man advised. “Priestesses of Reygmadra are rare so far from the capital, but we do have a few. Doubtless they’ve heard of you too. They may already be on their way to report your efforts to your sister.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Ioanna. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her movements a secret forever, but she hoped they could at least keep the fact they were gathering on her grandmother’s estate hidden for a bit longer.

Knight-Commander Livius should be in Nassai by now, if all had gone as planned. There’d been no communication from him, for such a thing was all but impossible and potentially dangerous. She hoped he was well.

She’d never been more grateful for Vitaliya’s presence, a small spot of light and color in a world that was becoming nothing but anxiety and military movements. Perhaps it would have been wiser to leave her in Oredia or somewhere equally safe, but Ioanna thought she might have run away weeks ago if not for her.

She only wished Vitaliya could bring herself to believe it. It was obvious that, even now, she saw herself as unimportant. Ioanna was not sure where the issue stemmed from, nor was she sure how to fix it. She had already tried to communicate Vitaliya’s importance multiple times, but it never felt like Vitaliya truly believed her.

When she went back into the tent, Vitaliya was still asleep. She would sleep until noon unless someone woke her. Ioanna sat down beside her and ran her fingers through Vitaliya’s hair.

Vitaliya was so certain she’d have countless suitors—and Ioanna had to admit she was probably right about that just because any unmarried regent would be wading through proposals. But she could not muster up any enthusiasm for this possibility. None of them would know the first thing about her, nor would they really care.

The sensible thing to do would be to at least hear them out for Xytae’s sake. But for some reason, she did not feel like being sensible. At least, not about this. She’d spent her whole life being calm and reasonable and responsible. She felt she was owed a moment of happiness.

That was, of course, assuming Vitaliya wanted to stay with her. She’d seemed horrified by the prospect of becoming empress consort, which was unfortunately the only logical conclusion to their relationship in Ioanna’s eyes. But at the same time, Ioanna was confident Vitaliya did not want to leave her.

Vitaliya’s breathing changed, and Ioanna withdrew her hand just as she opened her eyes.

“What happened?” mumbled Vitaliya. “Something’s wrong?”

“No. We just slept late.” Ioanna paused. “And we have supporters from Duona now.”

“Oh, good. Who is that?”

“It’s not a person; it’s a city to the north. I hadn’t planned to go there, but they found us.”

Vitaliya stretched, nearly hitting Ioanna in the face. “Good! Better than good. That’s wonderful.” She continued to stretch, wriggling her shoulders. “I can’t wait until we’re done traveling. I think I’m tired of tents.”

“We’re starting southward today,” said Ioanna. “It won’t be long to Nassai. Assuming we make good time.”

“I’m sure we won’t. People will be asking to join up every hour, and we’ll barely make it out of the mountains by sundown.”

“Well, I suppose there are worse problems to have.”

Ioanna was looking forward to their arrival at Nassai and taking stock of their forces. Her grandmother’s lands there were large, far larger than at Oredia, and it was more rural. Ioanna had only visited it once or twice in her entire life and recalled there’d been nothing to do except read the books she’d brought with her. They hadn’t even been allowed to wander through the fields for fear they’d trample the crops.

Vitaliya had reacted with disappointment when Ioanna explained most of the surrounding area was farmland and there were no major cities nearby, but she cheered up a little when Ioanna described the villa there, built to the same standards as the one in Oredia.

Vitaliya reached out for her with both arms, and Ioanna decided she didn’t mind being a few more minutes late. The tent was a comfortable temperature, and the fabric was thick enough to keep out the cold, yet still thin enough that it glowed faintly with morning light when the sun rose. And the bedrolls were soft and thick enough that one did not generally feel the ground beneath.

Vitaliya’s hands were warm and soft—softer than Ioanna might have expected, given her blessing and her time spent around farmers. But Vitaliya had never been allowed to handle the real tools, shovels and scythes and the like, nor had she been taught to use a weapon. Ioanna found her softness comforting, though, and allowed herself to be pulled back into the blankets.

Vitaliya pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Is it cold outside?”

“Not colder than yesterday. It will be warmer when we make it out of the mountains.”

“It will be warmest if we stay in here forever.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best course of action.”

“Of course, it is,” murmured Vitaliya. Her lips trailed across Ioanna’s collarbone and up to her chin. “Of course, it is.”

“That’s difficult to argue with,” Ioanna whispered back. When Vitaliya smiled, the sight of it was so beautiful Ioanna wondered how in the world Vitaliya could think she’d ever let princes come and court her. “But the sooner we finish this, the sooner we can return to Xyuluthe. And you can get your old dresses back.”

“Oh! I’d forgotten about those. Do you think they’re still there, or they threw them away?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Ioanna. “Maybe they sent them back to Vesolda?”

“I’d like to imagine everything’s exactly where I left it. All over the floor. And after you’ve stormed the capital and taken back the palace, we’ll go in and see everything exactly how it was.”

“I’m sure the servants will have at least picked them up—”

“No! This is my fantasy, not yours, and I say they’re still on the floor.”

Ioanna laughed. “If it’s that important to you, then very well. They’re still on the floor. And if they’ve been picked up by the time we arrive, I’ll order the servants to throw them back down. Is that acceptable?”

“Oh, she’s gone mad with power!” But Vitaliya was laughing now too. “You’re going to get a reputation for issuing ridiculous commands, and it will be all because of me.”

“Now, I’m curious. What other things were you thinking of asking me to do?”

“I don’t have any plans! It’s just this suspicion I have. I’ll ask for something silly not even expecting you to say yes, but then of course you will because…” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked several times as though she’d lost track of her thoughts.

“What?” asked Ioanna.

“Because…I don’t know why.” Vitaliya gazed up at her. “It’s just what you do. How you are. Going along with all my silly ideas like there’s merit to them. And I never really stopped to think about why.”

“I like your silly ideas,” said Ioanna. “I don’t need everything in my life to be serious every moment of the day. And it makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Most people find it irritating after a while, and so I try not to…but with you, I’ve never felt like I had to hold back.”

“I’m glad. Maybe it means…” Now it was Ioanna who hesitated.

“What?”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of saying something offensive. Tell me before I die of curiosity.”

“It’s certainly nothing worth dying over. I was only wondering if we…” Ioanna struggled to find the correct words. “That is, perhaps I’m not experienced enough to say. Perhaps it’s always like this? With…other people?” For Vitaliya had lived a very different life than her, and in the past occupied her time with men and women and neutroi. Ioanna did not think she would ever be capable of taking such a casual approach to love or intimacy, but she understood why it had appealed to Vitaliya.

Vitaliya’s fingertips were so soft on her skin. “No,” she said. “It’s not. Nothing’s ever been like this.”

“It might not be too much longer,” Ioanna murmured. “We’re nearly at the end.”

“Does it have to be the end?” Vitaliya’s eyes were so intense. “Would you let me stay in Xyuluthe with you?”

“Of course, I would,” whispered Ioanna. “For as long as you wanted—”

“You’ll never be rid of me, then.”

“I can live with that,” Ioanna whispered into her hair. “Even if…I know you don’t want to be empress consort. And you wouldn’t have to be—it’s just a title; you don’t need another one when you’re already a princess. And I don’t want you to do anything that would make you unhappy.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be unhappy.” When Ioanna looked down at her, Vitaliya averted her gaze and bit her lower lip. “It’s probably too early to say. I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or two. If you haven’t changed your mind in the meantime.”

Ioanna could not keep her smile hidden. Nor did she need to with Vitaliya. “I doubt I will.”

“You’re in love,” Vitaliya whispered up at her, mouth curling into a delighted smile as though she had just won something.

“You’re in love,” Ioanna retorted, picking up one of the extra pillows and dropping it over Vitaliya’s face. It was childish, and rather uncharacteristic of her, but in that moment, it was the only thing she could think of to do. Too late she realized it might have been better to kiss Vitaliya or something. Or anything. Her embarrassment doubled.

As the pillow landed, Vitaliya laughed and screamed at the same time. Ioanna was afraid everyone would think they were murdering each other—or worse—so she jumped back to her feet.

“Come on, we’re extremely late,” said Ioanna. “You can stay here forever if you like, but I’m taking the tent.”

“How unromantic! We’ll have to work on that.”

Ioanna wanted to ask what she had in mind but could not find the courage to say the words and spent the rest of the day regretting it.