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With the exception of Rada and Walter, who seemed to have disappeared somewhere, everyone went out into the garden while the servants started cleaning up. There were handshakes and hugs all around, though the excitement and camaraderie lasted only a minute—right up until the earl called for wine and said they should drink a toast.
Donella gave the wine a very suspicious look, and she saw Elwyn and Andras doing the same.
“Oh, holy Earstien,” grumbled the earl. “I swear there’s nothing in that bottle but good old Rodvin.”
“I’m not sure why you think we’d trust you,” said Elwyn. “You drink the first glass.”
He did, and once it was clear he wasn’t about to turn into a ravenous sex beast, everyone else had a glass, too.
“Now what shall we drink to?” asked Andras.
“To your marriage to Elwyn, of course,” said the earl.
Donella, who had just taken a sip of her wine, coughed and spluttered.
“I’m sorry, but what did you say?” cried Elwyn. “I think we settled this already. Andras and I are not getting married.”
“Of course you are,” said the earl. “I don’t see how anything that has happened today changes our plans at all. We still need an alliance with the Byrnes, so that means we still need your marriage.”
“No we don’t,” said Elwyn. “Flora wants revenge on Cousin Broderick. She ought to be willing to fight on our side, with or without a marriage alliance.”
“I thought you didn’t trust her,” said the earl. “But you think we can simply take her word, without any kind of formal treaty?”
Edwin looked nervously over his wineglass at his sister. “Elwyn, I’ve gotten to know Andras a little, and he’s really quite a good fellow. I think you’d be happy with him.”
“Oh, Finster’s balls,” sighed Elwyn, rubbing her eyes. “Not you, too. Look, it’s true he’s a good catch. But he’s in love with Donella, not with me.”
“So, not only do you not want to marry him,” said the earl, “but you’re actually encouraging a match with the Gramirens? Have you lost your senses, girl?”
Donella shuffled over to take Andras’s hand. “Look, I really don’t care about politics one way or another. I just want to be with him.”
The earl rolled his eyes and walked out onto the lawn, muttering under his breath. Half a minute later, though, he came back, all excited. “Listen, how about this. What if Elwyn and Andras are married, but you’re his mistress, Donella?”
“I don’t think I care for that idea at all,” said Donella.
“Neither do I,” said Andras. Looking at Elwyn, he added, “No offense.”
“None taken.” Elwyn turned to her uncle. “Honestly, that’s a terrible idea. Are you trying to make everyone as miserable as you possibly can?”
“Spreading the misery around is more fair,” he said.
“Would anyone like to hear my idea?” said Pallavi. She was seated on a stone bench with her feet up on a potted gardenia.
“Go ahead,” said Elwyn. She pointed at her uncle. “It can’t be any worse than his.”
“Actually,” said the hillichmagnar, “it’s quite similar. You and Andras become formally betrothed. That’s enough to seal the alliance. Later on, once the Sigor and Byrne armies have taken the field together—and hopefully once they’re winning battles—you can call off the wedding, and then Andras can be with whomever he likes.”
“I suppose it makes a little more sense when you put it like that,” said Elwyn.
“I’m not sure I like it any better than the earl’s idea,” said Andras, shaking his head. “How long is this fake betrothal going to last? And what happens if people find out it’s not real?”
“How would anyone find out?” asked Elwyn.
“Oh, I don’t know,” snapped the earl, “I imagine Broderick and Muriel might hear about it from their daughter, who is standing right there!”
Everyone turned to look at Donella, and she let out a nervous little squeak. “Um, don’t mind me,” she said. “My lips are sealed. I want to be on whatever side Andras is on.”
“What a load of manure,” said the earl.
Elwyn walked behind Andras and took Donella’s arm. “Do you mind if I have a word with you? Alone?”
They went off together across the lawn, skirting the edge of the fountain and making a wide circuit around the lily pond.
“Would it help if I gave you my word, personally, that I’ll never marry Andras, no matter what happens?”
“I believe you,” said Donella. “But I don’t really trust your uncle.”
“With good reason. But I’m pretty sure I can get Edwin on my side. And between the two of us, we can make my uncle back down, if we have to.”
Donella bit her lip pensively. “Oh, I still don’t know.”
“Is it the alliance?” asked Elwyn. “You’ll have a lot of leverage, you know. My uncle will owe you a huge favor when peace is negotiated.”
“No, I was quite serious when I said I’ll take whatever side Andras is on. Although if you people could promise my brother will be safe, I’d be very grateful.”
“Done,” said Elwyn, with an emphatic nod of her head. “By the way, tell him I’m considering us even now.”
“Thank you, but even so...,” Donella said, not understanding Elwyn’s full meaning and struggling to put her own desires into words. “I sort-of hoped maybe Andras and I would be getting married."
“You can. Just not right away. And in the meantime, I certainly don’t care if you and he enjoy yourselves. I rather hope you do, as a matter of fact.”
“But is that...entirely proper? I mean, isn’t it terribly scandalous?”
Elwyn laughed—a full, throaty laugh with a touch of bitterness. “Donella, we’re royal princesses. We’re the only Myrcian women who can do whatever we want, however we want, with as many people as we want, and still be exactly as marriageable as before.” She winked. “I’m living proof of that, much to my sorrow.”
“Then...,” Donella took a deep breath. “Then I suppose maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Good for you.” Elwyn gave her a quick hug. They circled the lily pond one more time, and then started back toward the house. “You’re much better at this than I ever was, by the way. I wanted to let you know.”
“Better at what?”
“At being a princess, I mean.”
“That’s not true at all!” cried Donella. “Everyone back in Formacaster still talks about you.”
“Yes, and for all the wrong reasons, I’m guessing. I’ll probably be dead for a century before my scandals die away. You, on the other hand, are exactly the sort of girl my stepmother was always trying to make me into.”
“Oh, I’ve got some secrets of my own,” said Donella, with a rueful grimace.
“Speaking of which, I almost forgot.” Elwyn stopped, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a copper-colored ring with an amethyst crystal—the very same ring Vikker had given Donella. “My uncle took this from you. Apparently it’s magysk or something. I stole it from his desk, because I figured you should have it back.”
Donella hesitated for a good five or six seconds before taking it. “Thank you. I think.”
“Do you mind if I ask what sort of spells it has? My uncle said something about it changing your appearance. That will come in handy if you want to sneak out and see Andras, I suppose.”
With her face starting to burn, Donella said, “It’s...not exactly like that.”
“Oh? What does it do?”
Donella glanced nervously around. If there was anyone in the world she could confess this to, it was Elwyn. “It makes me into a man. In every possible way, if you see what I mean.”
One of Elwyn’s slim, dark eyebrows arched up, and then she let out a little snort of laughter. “Oh, Earstien. Well, at least the two of you will never get bored.” She took Donella’s arm, and they started walking back toward the house. They were nearly halfway across the lawn before Elwyn spoke again. In a low voice, she said, “You know, I bet you could get that ring on Andras’s little finger. If you were looking to try something different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you don’t always have to be a man. Sometimes he could be a woman. It seems fairer that way, at least to me.” She leaned even closer. “And trust me, as someone who’s bedded a few girls, it’s worth trying. At least once or twice.”
“We’ll see.”
The new political arrangement was born that night, even before Donella had agreed to it. There was a quiet, discreet announcement that the betrothal had been officially contracted. Nothing was said in public—not that it was necessary. The news would be all over the little Myrcian expatriate community in a few days. Andras dutifully wrote a coded letter reporting the engagement to his parents, and Elwyn sent one to her stepmother in Rawdon.
For a few hours, Donella started to have serious misgivings. But then darkness fell, and Elwyn came and took her by the arm.
“Let me show you to your room,” Elwyn said, and she walked Donella straight over to Andras’s guest bungalow. “I had all your things moved up here from that ghastly old shrine.” She slipped something into Donella’s pocket. It proved to be a bottle of oil, rather like the one Donella’s mother had tried to offer her. “Just a little something to make your stay more comfortable.” Elwyn winked. “Have fun, now.”
Andras was waiting for her in the bedroom, and it seemed he had found the Sahasran sex manual among her saddlebags. “I had no idea you were into all these things,” he said, amazed.
“Not yet,” she said, coming over to sit on his lap. “But I think I might enjoy trying them with you.” She showed him the oil, and the greedy look in his eyes told her that Elwyn had chosen her present wisely.
They tore each other’s clothes off—in some cases quite literally. Donella didn’t think her chest cloth would ever be quite the same after Andras took it in his teeth and ripped the laces out. But she didn’t care. The feel of his hands on her, all down her body was so glorious, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to wear clothes again.
Soon, she was reduced to a quivering, sweaty mess, shuddering in his bed and clawing at the blankets until they were strewn everywhere.
It was only afterward, when they were lying together, exhausted, that she even realized she had lost her maidenhood. It was far better than she had ever hoped it would be. And at the same time, considering all the other things she had done with him, it was curiously anticlimactic. But it was over, and now she could never again call herself a virgin, for whatever that might be worth. She found she didn’t actually care.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t tease him, though. Grinning, she said, “You realize you absolutely have to marry me now.”
“Why not?” he said. “You can be both the bride and the best man.”
She hit him with a pillow for that, and they rolled over the bed, laughing and wrestling. She knew she loved him, and she knew they would be married. But there was no particular hurry.