12

 

Repentance

 

Raefe snorted in derision as Euryon stepped forward, the lanthorn light falling over his face. Elcon read no kindness there. “I’ll not allow her to marry a Kindren. Take yourself from here come morning.” Euryon turned on his heel, and a footman stepped forward to light his way back down the path.

Raefe strode toward Elcon as Kai and Craelin tensed at his side. Raefe gave a mirthless laugh. “Relax. I’ll not touch your king. Anyway, you’ve done me a favor, Kindren. You showed me Aewen’s unfaithfulness before I cursed myself with her as a bride.”

Kai and Craelin moved as one to shield Elcon with their bodies. Did they also mean to block him from attacking Raefe? Elcon’s hand went to his dagger, and he fought the urge to push Kai and Craelin out of the way and launch himself at Raefe. He longed to shove Raefe’s words down his throat, but retained enough sense to remember that nothing good ever came of letting his emotions rule him.

Raefe gave a low growl. “Hide behind your servants like a coward if you must, but make no mistake, Kindren. If you ever enter Darksea, I’ll kill you on sight.” The last lanthorn withdrew its light as footsteps thudded away.

Craelin and Kai faced Elcon, the moonlight falling over their shoulders so that their faces hid in shadow. He would scold them for following him—right after he thanked them.

 

****

 

Aewen wept into her pillow until exhaustion claimed her. But she found no peace in sleep, for strange dreams tormented her. She stood on one edge of a chasm with Elcon on the other. He climbed upon a fallen tree bridging the gap and balanced as he crossed over the chasm. She ran to help him, to steady the tree, for it rocked. Before she reached it, the tree rolled and Elcon fell.

She started awake and gasped with relief, but then turned her face into her pillow to weep again.

Mother did not lash her, as she expected, but instead locked her alone in the darkness of her chambers. Aewen caught herself listening for the shuffle of Murial’s footsteps, but they would come no more. Murial, Mother informed her, had been put out of Cobbleford at last.

Her mother’s white-lipped silence frightened Aewen much worse than her anger. She’d lain on the floor where she had fallen when pushed into the room. The bar of lanthorn light beneath the door thinned and faded. Crawling to the bed, she climbed onto its tick fully clothed and let her tears flow. She wept over Elcon, now lost to her forever. She wept for Murial, who might even now cower in the dark forest. She wept for her own ruined life and for the shame she’d brought to her family. She even wept for Caerla, who loved the horrible Prince of Darksea and who could now never hope to marry. How could a second daughter wed when none would have the first to wife? She did not even begin to hope Raefe would not ruin her reputation. His wounded ego would demand satisfaction. He hated her now.

A gray day dawned, sending dull light across her bed to wake her, for none had closed the hangings or shutters the night before. She stirred and lifted her head from her pillow with a groan. Now she had found sleep, she longed only to forget herself in its rest. But, although weary, she couldn’t surrender to its embrace again. Sitting, she blinked to comfort her aching eyes.

A grating at the latch alerted her. Someone entered her outer chamber. She did not call out, but waited. Through the open connecting doorway, Caerla swept into the inner chamber, her erect posture a reminder of Mother’s. With her unbound hair frizzing about her and her eyes wild, she looked almost like a madwoman. From the foot of the bed, she glared down upon Aewen. “Are you content now? You have destroyed all my chances!”

Aewen stared back at Caerla, not sure how to respond.

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” Caerla’s volume raised a notch.

“What can I say? You are right. Your fate is linked to mine. Why should we bind ourselves to a form without substance? Why should it matter which sister marries first? And yet, once in times past and for reasons now lost to us, it did.” New tears gathered in her eyes. “I would not harm you for anything, my sister, but it seems I have.”

Caerla’s tawny eyes glinted. “Do not call me sister. You had everything I could want and you despised it. You drove from my life the only man I will ever love.” Silent tears slid down her face. “Raefe and his father left at dawn. They couldn’t get away from here soon enough.”

“You make no sense, Caerla. How can you reproach me for not wanting the man you love?” She just stopped herself from giving her opinion of Raefe’s worthiness of Caerla’s love.

“If you had married him, I might have spent time with Raefe as a sister, at least. Now I’ll never see him again.” Wrenching sobs wracked her.

Aewen wished she could comfort her sister. “What a wretched life that would be.”

“Don’t talk to me about my wretched life!” Caerla flew at her, hands curved into claws.

She caught her sister’s hands and struggled against the sudden strength that possessed Caerla, enduring pain as her sleeves fell back and fingernails rode paths down her arms. And then the fight went out of Caerla, and she dissolved into tears. Aewen held her slender body in an awkward embrace, but her sister pulled away. “I’ve made up my mind. I will take my vow of celibacy.”

“Mother will not allow it.”

Caerla arched an eyebrow. “You think she will not?”

Aewen fell silent as she rubbed the stinging scratch marks on her arms. She was not sure of anything anymore.

 

****

 

Cobbleford Castle stood against a pewter sky that gathered clouds to hide the sun. It seemed fitting to Elcon that such a day as this should dawn overcast and cold. At the clack of hooves on stone, he turned. The grass of the outer bailey glowed green against the cobblestone path where Craelin and Kai, already mounted, waited beside Raeld.

Craelin squinted at him. “Ready?”

He leaped to Raeld’s back, taken by the urgent desire to be quit of this place of shattered dreams.

“Halt!” Four of the garrison watchguards approached, two armed with swords that clanked at their sides and two with bows slung across their backs.

Elcon’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.

Kai and Craelin rode to position themselves between the guards and Elcon.

“What business have you with Lof Shraen Elcon?” Craelin called a challenge.

“King Euryon requires the Lof Shraen’s presence in his meeting chamber.” As the group reached them, one of the swordsmen answered.

“Name the king’s business.” Craelin demanded.

Silence. One of the guards shifted, the leather of his armor creaking. “We cannot.”

Elcon dismounted. “Never mind. For good or ill, I’ll go to Euryon.”

Craelin and Kai dismounted as well but the swordsman who had spoken stood in their way. “King Euryon asks only for Elcon.”

Craelin jutted out his chin and drew breath.

“I’ll present myself alone.” Elcon said before Craelin could speak.

When Elcon entered with the watchguards Euryon looked up from the head of a long table of reddish kaba wood.

Elcon inclined his head in greeting.

Euryon did not return the gesture of respect, although he waved to dismiss the guards. He sent Elcon a piercing look. “Sit near me.”

Elcon obeyed.

“Raefe and Devlon departed for Darksea early today.”

He waited.

“I tried—” Euryon cleared his throat. “I tried to persuade Raefe to keep silence about what he—about last night. He’s bitter, though, and he promised me he would not.” He hesitated. “I’ve spoken with Inydde. We’ve reached a decision.” His voice strengthened. “You don’t deserve her, but you may take Aewen to wife if she will have you. Her reputation is in ruins. She can no longer hope for a husband among the Elder. She will only suffer if she remains in Westerland, and we must think of Caerla. As you may know, among our people a younger sister cannot wed before the older. We can only hope that, with Aewen gone from Westerland, Caerla might someday rise above her sister’s shame.”

“I’ll wed Aewen with gladness.”

“You will take her with you to Rivenn, to your people, and marry her there. That is best, under the circumstances.”

Elcon frowned. It was too late for his peace-making visit to succeed now. He’d given little thought to what he’d lost in winning Aewen and even less to the reaction of his own people to his marrying an Elder princess. He pushed away the doubt that nagged him. “As you say. She will return with me to Torindan, where I will make her Queen of Rivenn and High Queen of Faeraven.”

Euryon pierced Elcon with a glare. “Mind that you do.” He pushed to his feet and, uncurling one fisted hand, gripped Elcon’s a little too tightly. “Aewen waits to receive you in the queen’s parlor.”

Aewen stood with her back to the door but turned as he entered. Limned in light from the tall window, dressed in blue silk, and with one long plait falling across her shoulder, she looked beautiful. “I thought never to see you again.”

He took a step toward her, and she met him. She felt fragile in his arms. They stood locked together as he savored her nearness. At last he drew back to look at her. “To think I almost lost you.”

At the glint of tears in her eyes, he pulled her to him again and spoke against her hair. “Your father has given us permission to marry.”

“I know. Mother told me.” She twined her arms about his neck and lifted her face as if for a kiss.

“Then…you will?”

She drew away this time, and he saw that she smiled. “I will, Elcon, with pleasure.”

He caught the contagion of her smile but schooled his features. “Will you come with me to Torindan? Will you reign with me?”

Her face sobered, and she looked away. “My people will reject me now, Elcon. But will yours accept me?”

He tilted her face. “They will love you as I do.” As he lowered his head to kiss her, he pushed away his lingering doubts.