Rielle
“I know you’re still in Kirvaya, but my head is full of anxious storms, and writing you helps quiet them. Ingrid brought home a dead beast, Audric. That’s at least part of what’s been slaughtering our soldiers in the east—and yours as well, I suspect. It is a beast unlike any I’ve ever seen, made of melded parts. Tiger and bear and bird. And even, I think, dragon. I know, it sounds ludicrous, and Ingrid thinks I’m a fool for entertaining the idea. But its hindquarters are scaled. Tough and spiked, lightly furred. Do you think angels could be controlling these creatures? And how were such beasts created in the first place? We have many questions and no answers. Meanwhile, the attacks continue. Every two weeks, one of my outposts is sacked in the night, the bones of its soldiers left scattered, the snow at its gates painted red.”
—A letter written by King Ilmaire Lysleva to Prince Audric Courverie, dated December 27, Year 998 of the Second Age
Faced with Ludivine’s quietly furious gaze and Audric’s desolate one, Rielle at first could not speak.
She stood awkwardly, rigid, unsure whether it would be best to proceed as if nothing had happened—as though she hadn’t in fact recently been kissing Corien, as though her skin wasn’t still tingling, awakened by his touch—or if she should instead go on the offensive, though she didn’t feel as if she had much ground to stand on, depending on what Audric knew.
She drew a breath and managed only to say, “Oh. Hello.”
Audric’s gaze fell to the shield in her hands. Already, the heat of the hearth fire was melting the layer of ice and snow encrusting the metal. Water dripped onto the carpet beside Rielle’s boots.
“Is that Marzana’s shield?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she answered at once.
“Where did you get it? And how?”
She wanted to look away from him. If she didn’t hide her eyes, he would sniff out her deception. But she forced herself to meet his gaze and decided to provide him a version of the truth.
An altered, merciful one.
“Corien spoke to me tonight,” she answered. “He told me to come find him, that he would give me Marzana’s casting. That the Obex would insist upon testing me for weeks to determine my worth before granting me the shield. That would be a waste of time, he said, and insulting. And I agree with him on that point.”
“So you went to him,” Audric said. “And he did indeed give you the shield.”
“Clearly,” she said before she could stop herself.
Audric’s dark gaze flicked sharply up to hers. “Don’t snap at me, Rielle. I’m not the one at fault here.”
“At fault?” She set down the shield, left it leaning against the wall. “How, exactly, am I at fault?”
What did you tell him, Lu?
I told him you’d gone to meet Corien, Ludivine replied, and that you were on your way back.
Did you tell him that we kissed?
No. And I hope you don’t. It will only hurt him.
Rielle swallowed. Does he suspect?
No. Ludivine’s voice softened. He isn’t angry because he thinks you kissed Corien. He’s angry because you put yourself in danger.
“You told me,” said Audric, “you promised me, that if we were to do this thing, if we were to pursue Corien and uncover his intentions, we would do it together. You promised me no secrets and no lies.”
“I didn’t lie,” Rielle said quietly. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that.”
“Is it so hard to believe that I would have considered your comfort before all else?”
Audric scoffed and rose to his feet. “Rielle, what’s the real reason you left me here while you snuck out into the night to meet our enemy on your own?”
She hesitated, unsure which truth to twist, which lies to speak.
Careful, said Ludivine.
Damn you, Lu, don’t tell me to be careful. This is your fault. You didn’t have to wake him.
I did, Ludivine replied calmly, if only because maybe doing so will make you think twice next time about giving in to Corien and striking out on your own, just as he asks you to.
It was my choice to go to him. I wanted the shield, and he was ready to give it to me.
You wanted the shield, Ludivine agreed, and you wanted to see him. You wanted to touch him.
A sharp, tingling heat rose behind Rielle’s eyes. And what if I did?
“I left you here because I’m ashamed, Audric, and embarrassed,” she burst out, so vehemently ignoring Ludivine that her temples ached from the effort. “Do you know how terrible it is, how uncomfortable, to lie there every night beside you while he whispers in my head? How dirty it makes me feel, how unworthy of you?”
Audric’s expression softened. “You could never be unworthy of me.”
“I could not imagine taking you with me to meet him,” she continued. “He would have said terrible things to you. He might have tried to hurt you. He might have forced himself on me and made you watch. Alone, I can defend myself against him. But with you there, I would have been distracted. He could have used you to get at me. It was unsafe to bring you.”
The more she talked, the more easily the lies fell from her lips. She began to convince even herself. Of course she had left Audric behind to protect him. It was the logical thing to have done.
“My duty, as Sun Queen, is to serve and protect my country,” she said, moving toward him. “And you are my country. You are its heir, its future king.” She touched his face, the slight shadow of his beard. “Yes, it would have embarrassed me for you to have seen how much he wants me, for you to hear the things he would have said to hurt you. But more than that, I could not put you in that sort of danger. Even if I didn’t love you, as the Sun Queen, it would have betrayed everything I stand for.”
“But didn’t it occur to you that it wasn’t safe even for you?” Audric said after a moment. “Didn’t you wonder why Lu wasn’t there to stop you? He kept her in the dark. She didn’t even know you were gone until you were on your way back, shield in hand.” He shook his head, stepping back from her touch. “I know it is difficult for you to resist him. I know what he offers you.”
Rielle stiffened. “Do you?”
“Yes.” He glanced at Ludivine. “Freedom. No rules or cloying traditions, no obligations to church or crown. These are things I cannot offer you, though I wish I could.” He looked away, his mouth twisting. “I hate that in your mind I am associated with that which binds you.”
“Whatever Ludivine thinks she knows,” Rielle said icily, “whatever she’s been telling you, I am happy to serve my country. I glory in it, in fact. And I’m insulted that either of you would think otherwise.”
“Yes, I know you glory in it. That’s not the problem.”
“What is the problem, then?”
“You have a duty to protect your country, yes, but you are too important to act recklessly. Just because you are powerful doesn’t mean you can put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“Unnecessary!” She flung her hand at the shield. “I did what we came here to do, didn’t I? I stood up before all those simpering people, and smiled, and performed for them just as they wanted. Just as you wanted.”
Audric glared at her. “Diplomacy often requires us to humble ourselves.”
“Yes, it must have been very difficult for you to stand there and accept congratulations for how prettily I presented myself to the Kirvayan court.”
“My God, Rielle,” Ludivine said. “Do you really think so little of him? Anyone who approached with congratulations for him instead of you, he promptly and passionately corrected.”
Rielle flushed hot-cold. “Well. I still think I had to humble myself in that hall far more than anyone else had to. And now I’m being punished for it.”
“You’re not being punished,” Audric said, “and if you were, it wouldn’t be for that. It would be for running off into a blizzard alone.”
Rielle bit her tongue. Any reply she could think of reflected poorly on herself, and the exasperated, frustrated look on Audric’s face was not one she enjoyed seeing directed at herself. Tears filled her eyes; if she spoke, they would fall.
With a sigh, Audric returned to the bed, roughing his curls with one hand.
For a moment, the room was silent. Then, once she had gathered herself, Rielle said venomously, “Are you happy, Lu, now that you’ve engineered this lovely little scene?”
“No, I’m not happy,” Ludivine replied. “I’m furious with you, and I’m terrified of how easily Corien can slip between us, how he can disguise your movements from me and deceive your guard. If you had any sense in your head, you would be terrified too.”
Rielle threw up her hands. “And yet here I stand, neither seduced nor slaughtered. Yes, it’s difficult to resist him. Yes, he is relentless. But I, too, am relentless. My will surpasses his own. And the fact that neither of you trust me in this, after everything we’ve endured together, is outrageous.”
You’re treading on dangerously thin ice, Rielle, said Ludivine. The image of you throwing yourself into Corien’s arms is fresh in my mind, and my willingness to lie for you goes only so far.
You mean so far as it suits your whims and needs. Rielle viciously shoved her reply at Ludivine. When it becomes useful for Audric to know how his father died, will you tell him, regardless of what happens to me?
Ludivine’s horror was a quiet, wounded hollowness. You know I would never do that.
Rielle turned from the feeling, shutting away the part of her mind in which Ludivine lived.
“You wanted me to do this,” she said, approaching Audric once more. “You wanted me to be an operative. To allow him to speak to me, to let him move freely in me and talk to him and try to find out information. His intentions, his movements.” She knelt before Audric, gathered his hands in her own. “Isn’t that right?”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “And did you discover any such information? Do you know more than you did before you left me for him?”
She bristled, rising. “I have the casting,” she said shortly. “That’s more important than anything right now, for if the Gate falls, all else is pointless. And I didn’t leave you for him. I left you here to carry out my duty. A duty you placed upon my shoulders. You instructed me to put myself into harm’s way, to make myself vulnerable to a creature who is ravenous for me, because it would help Celdaria. And I was only too happy to do it, because I love you, and I love my home. But you can’t have it both ways, Audric. Either I am to be the Sun Queen and do whatever is necessary to protect us all, even if that means risking my life—or I am to sit at home, safe and cosseted, under lock and key. Useless and ornamental.”
Audric looked up at her in silence, but the weariness in those great, dark eyes of his told her the truth. He was sorry, and he loved her, and he felt as conflicted as she did.
Before he could manage to say anything that would make her feel worse, anything that would remind her of the awful unkindness she had dealt him in that snow-frosted cave, Rielle rose, her throat aching. “I’ll take my breakfast downstairs. Lu, keep watch over that damned shield until I return.”
Then she turned away from them both and fled for the solace of the temple’s strange, perfumed shadows, her guard at her heels and a knot of shame turning slowly, sharply, gleefully in the pit of her gut.