4
A wise man never trusts a wax seal to protect his letters. King Aethan was a wise man.
-Same place as last time. Ten ‘o clock.- A
Alayna pulled a silk drape closed around the massive bedstead in their private chamber. No sense allowing insects in, since the windows of the castle didn’t have the benefit of glass panes.
In a sheer nightdress, she leaned over the basin and scrubbed her teeth with salt and soda. A door closed in the next chamber. “Aethan?” she asked, voice garbled by the foam.
“Yes, love. Only me.”
Alayna swilled and spit, and wiped her face with a towel. When her husband entered their bedchamber, he wore a plain tunic rather than bedclothes and a broad grin upon his face. Light eyes twinkled in the lamplight and though she’d known him a long time, his smiles could mean many things. Still, it was always safe to assume he was in the mood for love. “You appear over-dressed for bed,” she said. “Or do you have someplace else to be?”
He chuckled. “Actually, tonight, you’re under-dressed, my dear. We have a guest, arriving in a short time.”
“Oh Aethan,” Alayna groaned. “You’ve invited them to our private apartment? Can’t you visit out in the sitting room while I sleep in here? I can barely hold my eyelids open.”
“Certainly. I’m sure Ren will forgive you for turning in early.”
“Ren?” After she spoke his name, she regretted her hint of excitement. “What does he want?” Better.
It didn’t matter. Aethan knew better than to pretend their old friend was like any other. Ren held a special place in both their hearts. In Alayna’s, it might have been a touch less of a brotherly love place.
Aethan clasped her hand. “Get dressed. His letter said it was urgent.”
Alayna located an understated housedress and took the time to brush her long hair into a tidy braid. Not to impress Ren. If anything, she tried her hardest to look plain and uninviting. Did Aethan ever notice her effort?
“Urgent. Should we be concerned?” She folded her veil on the dresser and placed the crown atop it, where it would be ready for the morning’s court. “I hope everything is alright. I dare say my heart can’t bear any more tragic news now.” She peeked around the corner after receiving no response. “Aethan?”
“Hmm?” He glanced up from a paper on his desk.
“It isn’t another tragedy, is it? If so, I’d rather know now. I’ll end up a weeping idiot like last time when we learned about all those children…”
“It isn’t that at all,” Ren’s voice came through the open door, leading out onto the balcony. Of course. Why would he ever use the hallway door as everyone else did? Alayna crossed her arms while Aethan stood to greet their ill-mannered guest.
“Before you start in on my lax guard, I cleared the courtyard, assuming you weren’t about to give your name at the gate,” Aethan said, clasping Ren’s forearm and giving a squeeze, as the men of Andruain preferred to a simple handshake.
Ren smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with your castle’s defense, Your Majesty. I do prefer we keep our conversation private. As amusing as I find courtly politics, I’m here only for tonight and didn’t feel the need to announce my return.”
“Have a seat.” Aethan offered his own desk chair.
“I’d rather stand.” Ren scratched the back of his head, his face taking on a pained expression.
“Actually, with the news I bear, perhaps I should kneel. I would if I thought it’d sound any better from my knees.”
“Don’t be silly,” Alayna said. “Out with it. Whatever brought you back so soon must be grave and my nerves are worn ragged.”
Aethan cast her a dark glance and Alayna breathed deep, searching for what remained of that calm place within her. Growing more elusive as the trials of maintaining a fragmented kingdom wore on, it once was a method of self-comfort that could see her through any obstacle.
Aethan, ever the rational half of their partnership, said, “Tell us what troubles you, friend.”
Ren shook his head. “I’m ashamed to come to you like this, but while I spent the last year here in Andruain, my wife was left to care for Ayleth. Mairi turned out not to be as conscientious nor as vigilant as I expected.”
“And?” Aethan prodded.
“And, while I was here, your daughter was running amuck in Hawksrill.”
“Has she gotten into some kind of trouble?” Aethan preempted Alayna’s asking.
“She’s well and growing into a fine young woman. I’m…not sure how to say it, but I guess to speak frankly, it’s her virtue that’s been somewhat compromised.”
Alayna’s hand went to the credenza, to steady her as Ren’s words sank in. Her little girl…grown up already? Had the years fled so quickly?
Aethan’s low voice interrupted her thoughts. “Somewhat compromised or compromised?”
Ren didn’t move. “Compromised.”
Aethan wheeled and went to the window.
Silence filled the chamber before Ren dared look up from the floor. Shame sobered his handsome face, indicating the torment his admission caused him. “I know there is no apology that can make up for how I’ve failed you.” His eyes found Alayna’s. “I’m not here to ask forgiveness, but to say I’m prepared to pay any penalty required to ensure her a good marriage.”
Alayna sunk into a chair against the wall, eyes on her husband’s stark expression. How many times had they three talked in that chamber, sharing their innermost hearts with each other? A complicated past connected them with a bond of love stronger than any brothers could boast. Could a little girl be the thing that brought it all to an end?
“I assume Ayleth told you who she gave herself to. Tell me, how old is he?”
Ren paused before speaking. “I’m not sure.”
Aethan, normally a cool, collected man, spun back toward the room. “Come on, Ren! Is he a boy or is he a man? Because if he was a man who should know better than to advance on a girl, I’m not sure that I can be lenient with him.”
“No,” Ren said. “He’s not a man. Just a plowboy working Ainsley’s land. Fifteen, maybe sixteen?”
“A serf?” Alayna hadn’t meant to interrupt, but the words were out before she could stop them.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Ren said. “I’ll put up an enviable dowry to ensure her a fine future. Surely one of the dukes will accept my offer.”
Aethan left the window and headed for his desk. “That won’t be necessary.”
“But,” Ren and Alayna said at the same time.
Aethan stood behind his desk, facing both of them. “You forget that Ayleth isn’t a princess. She’s your child, Ren, and will be forever known as such. Alayna and I won’t arrange her marriage.” Alayna wasn’t sure what Aethan was trying to say but he continued before she could ask for clarification. “Does she love this boy?”
“I don’t know,” Ren admitted with a sigh. “She says she does and I can see their fondness, but they’re children. How can I say?”
Aethan’s beard bristled with his solemn frown and his brow furrowed. “Thank you, Ren. You have our gratitude for the protection you’ve given our daughter. I have no doubt she’s loved and benefits from your astute guidance.”
He approached and set a hand on Ren’s shoulder. “Around her eighteenth birthday, you will bring Ayleth back to Andruain and introduce her before the court. Her dowry will be generous, a lord’s daughter’s dowry, not that of a princess. She will select a husband from my knights and courtiers and nobles.”
Ren nodded his understanding.
Aethan smiled and patted Ren’s shoulder. “I would have her marry for love, old friend, wouldn’t you?”
“She’s a child any father would be proud of, Your Majesty. She deserves happiness.”
Alayna’s eyes stung. Four sons lived in the castle with them but her heart longed for the daughter they gave away. More than she would ever tell her proud husband.
“Now get you gone, Ren,” Aethan said with a laugh, hugging his friend close. “Your family needs you.”
Alayna stood. When Ren’s arms opened to her, she gave him a quick squeeze and light kiss on the cheek. “You will be missed in our court, Ren. We’ll send word to you in Vaardnell of any future attacks on the western border.”
“Good night, Your Majesties.” Ren strode to the balcony door.
“Ren, before you go,” Aethan said, “what is the boy’s name?”
“Aarin. No surname.”
Aethan nodded, allowing Ren to depart. He cast a long glance at Alayna and finally his face cracked into a smile. “I remember when we thought we lost her,” he said. “She’s been a warrior from the beginning—fierce as her mother.”
Alayna laughed. “More like her father.”
Aethan sighed. “Three years.”
Alayna took his hand. “Did you mean what you said about introducing her to the court as Ren’s daughter?”
“Of course.”
“You know if you do it, none of the dukes would marry her.”
“I’m counting on it, actually.”
“Wedding her to the highest nobility would be the easiest way to keep her in the court. She could be one of my ladies in waiting.”
He shook his head to disagree. “There are women enough in Andruain who would part with an eye to marry a duke. I want Ayleth to marry for love.”
Alayna sniffed. “You can’t think a serf is an appropriate choice.”
“Of course not,” Aethan said, kissing her cheek. “Ayleth is special. She’s not going to end up a prize, but a woman allowed to make her own choices. It’s the least we can do for her.”
Alayna pulled him close, her arm around his waist. “I’ve always said you’re wise as you are handsome.”
He chuckled, crossing the room. “Is that so?” He cracked open the door and spoke low to one of the guardsmen in the hallway.
Alayna took the opportunity to return to the bedroom, to find her nightdress and let her braid loose again. Why did it seem Ren always appeared the bearer of bad news? As much as she enjoyed seeing him, she’d begun to dread his visits. It was probably best he stayed away a while. The attitudes of the fickle courtiers might prove problematic if he remained in Andruain and while Alayna and Aethan did everything they could to protect his identity from those who would see him hanged, they would eventually have to make a difficult choice, between their dearest friend and their people. A decision for another time.
Brush in hand, she went back to the sitting room, since Aethan hadn’t come to their bedchamber.
Aethan stood with one of the knights of his personal guard, Desmond Lange. Alayna stopped in her tracks and Sir Desmond’s eyes went from her to the floor. “Pardon me, Your Majesty.”
Continuing whatever he’d been discussing with his knight, Aethan said, “Take your best men and remember the road to the south isn’t as safe as it once was.” He handed Sir Desmond a letter devoid of his personal seal.
Alayna kept her eyes on her husband. He was up to something devious if the way he avoided her gaze was any indication. Aethan was a terrible liar—a quality that made him an intrepid husband and leader of men.
“Your Majesty, perhaps it would be prudent for us to dress as commoners for this task. Not only would it make our travel easier, but dressed in our regalia, we might cause unnecessary fear. He may refuse to come willingly.”
Aethan’s right eye narrowed. “I don’t care what it takes, bring him to me.”
Desmond placed his fist over the gold lion emblazoned on his black breastplate. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed and left the chamber.
Alayna shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her. “Aethan, what have you done? He’s only a boy.”
Aethan took her hand and stroked his thumb over the amethyst ring. “Not anymore.”
A wise man never trusts a wax seal to protect his letters. King Aethan was a wise man.
-Same place as last time. Ten ‘o clock.- A
Alayna pulled a silk drape closed around the massive bedstead in their private chamber. No sense allowing insects in, since the windows of the castle didn’t have the benefit of glass panes.
In a sheer nightdress, she leaned over the basin and scrubbed her teeth with salt and soda. A door closed in the next chamber. “Aethan?” she asked, voice garbled by the foam.
“Yes, love. Only me.”
Alayna swilled and spit, and wiped her face with a towel. When her husband entered their bedchamber, he wore a plain tunic rather than bedclothes and a broad grin upon his face. Light eyes twinkled in the lamplight and though she’d known him a long time, his smiles could mean many things. Still, it was always safe to assume he was in the mood for love. “You appear over-dressed for bed,” she said. “Or do you have someplace else to be?”
He chuckled. “Actually, tonight, you’re under-dressed, my dear. We have a guest, arriving in a short time.”
“Oh Aethan,” Alayna groaned. “You’ve invited them to our private apartment? Can’t you visit out in the sitting room while I sleep in here? I can barely hold my eyelids open.”
“Certainly. I’m sure Ren will forgive you for turning in early.”
“Ren?” After she spoke his name, she regretted her hint of excitement. “What does he want?” Better.
It didn’t matter. Aethan knew better than to pretend their old friend was like any other. Ren held a special place in both their hearts. In Alayna’s, it might have been a touch less of a brotherly love place.
Aethan clasped her hand. “Get dressed. His letter said it was urgent.”
Alayna located an understated housedress and took the time to brush her long hair into a tidy braid. Not to impress Ren. If anything, she tried her hardest to look plain and uninviting. Did Aethan ever notice her effort?
“Urgent. Should we be concerned?” She folded her veil on the dresser and placed the crown atop it, where it would be ready for the morning’s court. “I hope everything is alright. I dare say my heart can’t bear any more tragic news now.” She peeked around the corner after receiving no response. “Aethan?”
“Hmm?” He glanced up from a paper on his desk.
“It isn’t another tragedy, is it? If so, I’d rather know now. I’ll end up a weeping idiot like last time when we learned about all those children…”
“It isn’t that at all,” Ren’s voice came through the open door, leading out onto the balcony. Of course. Why would he ever use the hallway door as everyone else did? Alayna crossed her arms while Aethan stood to greet their ill-mannered guest.
“Before you start in on my lax guard, I cleared the courtyard, assuming you weren’t about to give your name at the gate,” Aethan said, clasping Ren’s forearm and giving a squeeze, as the men of Andruain preferred to a simple handshake.
Ren smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with your castle’s defense, Your Majesty. I do prefer we keep our conversation private. As amusing as I find courtly politics, I’m here only for tonight and didn’t feel the need to announce my return.”
“Have a seat.” Aethan offered his own desk chair.
“I’d rather stand.” Ren scratched the back of his head, his face taking on a pained expression.
“Actually, with the news I bear, perhaps I should kneel. I would if I thought it’d sound any better from my knees.”
“Don’t be silly,” Alayna said. “Out with it. Whatever brought you back so soon must be grave and my nerves are worn ragged.”
Aethan cast her a dark glance and Alayna breathed deep, searching for what remained of that calm place within her. Growing more elusive as the trials of maintaining a fragmented kingdom wore on, it once was a method of self-comfort that could see her through any obstacle.
Aethan, ever the rational half of their partnership, said, “Tell us what troubles you, friend.”
Ren shook his head. “I’m ashamed to come to you like this, but while I spent the last year here in Andruain, my wife was left to care for Ayleth. Mairi turned out not to be as conscientious nor as vigilant as I expected.”
“And?” Aethan prodded.
“And, while I was here, your daughter was running amuck in Hawksrill.”
“Has she gotten into some kind of trouble?” Aethan preempted Alayna’s asking.
“She’s well and growing into a fine young woman. I’m…not sure how to say it, but I guess to speak frankly, it’s her virtue that’s been somewhat compromised.”
Alayna’s hand went to the credenza, to steady her as Ren’s words sank in. Her little girl…grown up already? Had the years fled so quickly?
Aethan’s low voice interrupted her thoughts. “Somewhat compromised or compromised?”
Ren didn’t move. “Compromised.”
Aethan wheeled and went to the window.
Silence filled the chamber before Ren dared look up from the floor. Shame sobered his handsome face, indicating the torment his admission caused him. “I know there is no apology that can make up for how I’ve failed you.” His eyes found Alayna’s. “I’m not here to ask forgiveness, but to say I’m prepared to pay any penalty required to ensure her a good marriage.”
Alayna sunk into a chair against the wall, eyes on her husband’s stark expression. How many times had they three talked in that chamber, sharing their innermost hearts with each other? A complicated past connected them with a bond of love stronger than any brothers could boast. Could a little girl be the thing that brought it all to an end?
“I assume Ayleth told you who she gave herself to. Tell me, how old is he?”
Ren paused before speaking. “I’m not sure.”
Aethan, normally a cool, collected man, spun back toward the room. “Come on, Ren! Is he a boy or is he a man? Because if he was a man who should know better than to advance on a girl, I’m not sure that I can be lenient with him.”
“No,” Ren said. “He’s not a man. Just a plowboy working Ainsley’s land. Fifteen, maybe sixteen?”
“A serf?” Alayna hadn’t meant to interrupt, but the words were out before she could stop them.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Ren said. “I’ll put up an enviable dowry to ensure her a fine future. Surely one of the dukes will accept my offer.”
Aethan left the window and headed for his desk. “That won’t be necessary.”
“But,” Ren and Alayna said at the same time.
Aethan stood behind his desk, facing both of them. “You forget that Ayleth isn’t a princess. She’s your child, Ren, and will be forever known as such. Alayna and I won’t arrange her marriage.” Alayna wasn’t sure what Aethan was trying to say but he continued before she could ask for clarification. “Does she love this boy?”
“I don’t know,” Ren admitted with a sigh. “She says she does and I can see their fondness, but they’re children. How can I say?”
Aethan’s beard bristled with his solemn frown and his brow furrowed. “Thank you, Ren. You have our gratitude for the protection you’ve given our daughter. I have no doubt she’s loved and benefits from your astute guidance.”
He approached and set a hand on Ren’s shoulder. “Around her eighteenth birthday, you will bring Ayleth back to Andruain and introduce her before the court. Her dowry will be generous, a lord’s daughter’s dowry, not that of a princess. She will select a husband from my knights and courtiers and nobles.”
Ren nodded his understanding.
Aethan smiled and patted Ren’s shoulder. “I would have her marry for love, old friend, wouldn’t you?”
“She’s a child any father would be proud of, Your Majesty. She deserves happiness.”
Alayna’s eyes stung. Four sons lived in the castle with them but her heart longed for the daughter they gave away. More than she would ever tell her proud husband.
“Now get you gone, Ren,” Aethan said with a laugh, hugging his friend close. “Your family needs you.”
Alayna stood. When Ren’s arms opened to her, she gave him a quick squeeze and light kiss on the cheek. “You will be missed in our court, Ren. We’ll send word to you in Vaardnell of any future attacks on the western border.”
“Good night, Your Majesties.” Ren strode to the balcony door.
“Ren, before you go,” Aethan said, “what is the boy’s name?”
“Aarin. No surname.”
Aethan nodded, allowing Ren to depart. He cast a long glance at Alayna and finally his face cracked into a smile. “I remember when we thought we lost her,” he said. “She’s been a warrior from the beginning—fierce as her mother.”
Alayna laughed. “More like her father.”
Aethan sighed. “Three years.”
Alayna took his hand. “Did you mean what you said about introducing her to the court as Ren’s daughter?”
“Of course.”
“You know if you do it, none of the dukes would marry her.”
“I’m counting on it, actually.”
“Wedding her to the highest nobility would be the easiest way to keep her in the court. She could be one of my ladies in waiting.”
He shook his head to disagree. “There are women enough in Andruain who would part with an eye to marry a duke. I want Ayleth to marry for love.”
Alayna sniffed. “You can’t think a serf is an appropriate choice.”
“Of course not,” Aethan said, kissing her cheek. “Ayleth is special. She’s not going to end up a prize, but a woman allowed to make her own choices. It’s the least we can do for her.”
Alayna pulled him close, her arm around his waist. “I’ve always said you’re wise as you are handsome.”
He chuckled, crossing the room. “Is that so?” He cracked open the door and spoke low to one of the guardsmen in the hallway.
Alayna took the opportunity to return to the bedroom, to find her nightdress and let her braid loose again. Why did it seem Ren always appeared the bearer of bad news? As much as she enjoyed seeing him, she’d begun to dread his visits. It was probably best he stayed away a while. The attitudes of the fickle courtiers might prove problematic if he remained in Andruain and while Alayna and Aethan did everything they could to protect his identity from those who would see him hanged, they would eventually have to make a difficult choice, between their dearest friend and their people. A decision for another time.
Brush in hand, she went back to the sitting room, since Aethan hadn’t come to their bedchamber.
Aethan stood with one of the knights of his personal guard, Desmond Lange. Alayna stopped in her tracks and Sir Desmond’s eyes went from her to the floor. “Pardon me, Your Majesty.”
Continuing whatever he’d been discussing with his knight, Aethan said, “Take your best men and remember the road to the south isn’t as safe as it once was.” He handed Sir Desmond a letter devoid of his personal seal.
Alayna kept her eyes on her husband. He was up to something devious if the way he avoided her gaze was any indication. Aethan was a terrible liar—a quality that made him an intrepid husband and leader of men.
“Your Majesty, perhaps it would be prudent for us to dress as commoners for this task. Not only would it make our travel easier, but dressed in our regalia, we might cause unnecessary fear. He may refuse to come willingly.”
Aethan’s right eye narrowed. “I don’t care what it takes, bring him to me.”
Desmond placed his fist over the gold lion emblazoned on his black breastplate. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed and left the chamber.
Alayna shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her. “Aethan, what have you done? He’s only a boy.”
Aethan took her hand and stroked his thumb over the amethyst ring. “Not anymore.”
