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“Big brother! So glad you could make it!” Beniru boomed with false gaiety. He stepped down from his throne and enveloped Amihan in a hug. “You have been so secretive of late, Masama and I were worried that you were not coming at all!”

“You should not have concerned yourselves,” the Thunder God replied, forcing a smile. “I have been busy lately, but I would not shame our family by missing your wedding.”

“Where is your blushing bride?” Beniru lo
oked around as if he expected to see Aĺakána returning from the privies at any minute. “And my strapping nephew?”

“I have no idea where you have been hearing such rumors, but I can assure you that I did
not
marry Princess Aĺakána. When I found the Princess, we discussed Léi Shēng’s intentions and when I said I was not interested in…em…‘breeding’ her, she said she was relieved. The Princess enjoys her monastic life, helping mortals when she can and appealing to the Elders when she cannot.”

Before Beniru coul
d press the issue, Amihan turned to Masama.

“It is lovely to meet you, dear sister. Has my brother been treating you well?”

Masama, too, stepped down from her throne, but her smile was real and as genuine as her embrace.

“As well as could be expected, my beloved brother.” The Princess lowered her voice. “I believe myself to be incredibly lucky to have married the son of an Elder God.”

“That reminds me.” Amihan turned back to his brother. “I thought you were going to marry next year. Do not
all
men of our li
ne wed at seventeen?”

“I am not privy to our father’s intentions. I suppose it was my mother’s death that spurred him to an early marriage.” He paused. “My beloved has a surprise for you.”

“I am to be Queen of Śēśa!” Masama exclaimed before Amihan had a ch
ance to ask. “Queen Miruan will lay down her crown in five years and I will be the one to take her place!”

Amihan tried not to let his shock register. Despite being the final resting place for souls, Śēśa had a reputation of being a realm in which one woul
d not willingly want to spend time. He had also heard that the initiation rituals of its Queens were more…
unusual
than most, but then anyone would have to have a certain amount of bravery—or stupidity—to marry his brother, too.

“Congratulations,” the Thunder God said aloud. “Will Queen Miruan be there for Beniru’s crowning?”

Masama shot her husband a guilty look. “Her Majesty and I have not discussed it.”

“But surely you plan to make my brother your King Consort…or at least your
Prince
Consort?” Amihan glanced at Beniru, who seemed to be watching his wife squirm.

“I…em…not sure…unmarried…” The Princess turned a bright shade of red.

“Well, I must be going,” said Amihan, trying to hide his delight at throwing a wrench between his brother and sister-in-law on their wedding day. “You have quite a few guests left to receive.”

 

 

The problem with marriages of the Elder Gods and their progeny was that all events were usually compulsory. No one wanted to offend the Elders, so most of the gods spent an hour at the reception and those who volunteered to while away their time being of service to the bridal couple stayed even longer. But there was no such escape for the God of Thunder. As much as he longed to be home with his true family, Amihan was obligated to be a dutiful brother and stay at least as long as his father—enduring all the inane conversation that came with it.

“If you are so anxious to see me married off, then why did you not see me betrothed to one of your
own
daughters?” he muttered at the back of the most recently departed Goddess. “Do not tell me you gave up sex twelve hundred years ago just because you thought chastity was the thing to embrace at the turn of the millennium!”

“They were probably counting on your father to approach
them
,” said a voice. “And when he did not, they thought he had it well in hand…even if the end result
was
me.”

The Thunder God glanced around the table and his eyes widened. There could only be one guest who would attend a wedding given by an Elder God in a long gray gown and mat
ching opaque veil.

“You have been listening to me lie to the Prince and Princess and everyone else this whole time?”

“The only lie is that you received my response directly from me,” Aĺakána replied. “But now that we have spoken, where is the lie?”

“So I w
as right? You
would
rather spend your days in seclusion, helping your people as best you can?”

“Better that than to engage in the materialistic tradition of marriage.” The Princess appeared to look him in the eye. “Begging your pardon, of course.”

“What…?”

“I have acolytes in the court of the Holy Roman Emperor. Not
everyone
who serves Frederick believes in Christianity and redemption through their ‘Christos’,” she explained. “And I have more than a few acolytes who are not…discreet.

“These acolytes—whom I will refer to in the singular for the sake of simplicity—tell me that I am not the only one of the Old Gods being worshipped in the Emperor’s court. This acolyte has it on good authority that someone connected to the imperials prays directly to your father
. And these prayers have been delivering information to Lord Léi Shēng on a regular basis since the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Hartford.”

Amihan opened his mouth, but Aĺakána laid a gloved hand on his own. “I am merely delivering information, Your
Royal Highness. I do not know whether it is truth or lies.

“At any rate, your father’s acolyte has been suspicious since Their Graces arrived; even more so when they rose so quickly in the Emperor’s favor. Neither this acolyte nor my own has any idea why t
he Grand Duchess of Berlin would suddenly be allowed to govern on her own, but my acolyte tells me that if your father’s acolyte has been set to wondering, then Léi Shēng himself certainly has, as well.”

“Are you telling me that my father believes that the
Grand Duchess and Lord Berlin is myself and…some woman I found along the way?”

“He would have reason to be suspicious, do you not think? Especially after you refused to do your duty by me.”

The Princess rose, as if this conversation had suddenly tired her. “Be wary, Prince Amihan. Always be certain of those you let into your home…and your life.”

XXIII

 

 

 

 

Vienna

Holy Roman Empire

April 25, 1228

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first toll of bells was at dawn. Amihan’s heart sank, but he quickly rallied back as he reached for his clothes. Beloved though she was by the Emperor, if the Grand Duchess of Berlin had died in her husband’s absence, mourning would surely not start until midday. Something must have happened while the Empress was in childbed.

 

 

The Thunder God returned to the manor several hours later. As he expected, Krystállina was already in a somber black gown, a lace shawl draped over her hair and pinned on the bodice of her gown by a broach of onyx and diamonds. The pin he recognized—it was a gift from the imperial family at the birth of the twins; she had another just like it, a diamond beset with onyx for Galíní. What he did not recognize, however, was the onyx ring on her right hand.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

“The Emperor sends his tidings,” she replied absently. “Listen:”

 

As you have no doubt discerned from the ringing of the bells, our beloved Isabella did not survive the birth of our son. At the moment of this writing, however, we are pleased to report that Conrad is thriving—he seems healthy and has taken to the wet nurse as if she were his mother.

 

“You do not need to mourn for her as if she were your sister!” Amihan snapped, seemingly more irritated by the friendly tone of the letter. “And you
certainly
do not need to be accepting gifts from the Emperor! You know he will wed again as soon as he can find the perfect woman!”

“I love you no less than I ever have.” Krystállina’s sorrow turned into ice. “And it is not
our
marriage you should be concerned about!

“‘In three weeks, three ceremonies will take place,” she continued reading. “‘And for those, you must be ready.’”

 

The first will be a public ceremony, in which you will be invested with the diadem of Berlin. Per our earlier announcement, your husband will not be anointed Grand Duke alongside you. He will continue to be addressed as “Lord Berlin”, which will not affect your stature in any way.

As the Grand Duchess of Berlin, you are required to attend the second ceremony; the creation of our son as both Archduke Conrad I of the Holy Roman Empire and as King Conrad II of Jerusalem.

Finally, we intend to keep the promise of betrothal made to Your Grace last spring. In order to appease both the courtiers and the people, we will continue to refer to the Ladies Berlin as “Her Grace, the Duchess Caroline of Hartford” and “Lady Grace, Marchioness of Queensberry”. As the Duchess of Hartford and the eldest daughter of the Grand Duchess of Berlin, it will be seemly for the King of Jerusalem to marry Lady Caroline, which is our intention. The final ceremony, therefore, will betroth the Duchess of Hartford to the King of Jerusalem, culminating in a feast and a ball.

 

“He goes on to say that the attendance of our daughter is compulsory for all events, but you may abstain from attending the second ceremony. The Emperor does, however, require you to attend the betrothal ceremony, as the Queen of Hungary has agreed to stand as proxy for the late Empress.”

“The messenger came just now?”

Krystállina nodded.

“And you put him up for the night?”

“The messenger was the Duke of Bavaria. He had to return to court, but said he would be back for an answer in three days.”

“Call him back,” Amihan ordered. He seemed agitated. “Whatever the cost, whatever the expense, call him back!”

The God of Thunder had been pacing, but suddenly stopped and stared at his wife. “We are ending this charade. Summon the Duke of Bavaria and tell him he can have his holdings back. Have him apologize to the Emperor for your sudden lack of desire to be a Grand Duchess. Make up any story you like as to why we cannot pledge Chárí to Conrad, but we are leaving
at once
. If we are lucky, perhaps Keimeme and his people will take me back.”

“We are not leaving.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m tired of running away.” Krystállina sat primly in her chair, which she’d moved next to the fire to ward off the last of the spring chill. “We left Thessalonica why? Because you thought your father was going to hunt us down?”

“I did not know he was using inept trackers.”

“What about Milano?”

“That was your fear, not mine,” Amihan reminded her. “You heard that Cardinal Mindanelli was a great hunter of sorcerers and you wanted to leave Milano as soon as you gave me that letter.”

“What kind of a god are you, that you are afraid of a human that can sniff out magick? What kind of
fiancé
were you, that you didn’t assuage my fears and tell me that you’d handle him?”

“I was afraid for
you!
” he snapped. “No
cardinal
can kill me, but I am sure you would have been tried for witchcraft as soon as Mindanelli found that I was untouchable!”

“Isn’t that what I signed up for?” Krystállina jumped to her feet. “Did I not lay my life on the line when we made that binding pledge?”

“We were not married yet.” Amihan leaned against the wall. “Besides, I meant the pledge to be more to spite my father than to put you in danger of other mortals!”

“It doesn’t matter! I pledged to stand beside you for as long as my life might last.
Beyond
that, after your little closing ceremony!”

“Your life might not last much longer.” He sat down and relate
d everything Aĺakána had told him, being careful to emphasize every reason they had to leave Vienna.

“Lord Léi Shēng has no confirmation that we are the Bestwicks,” she pointed out.

“But if this courtier keeps feeding him information like that, he will fin
ally get enough incentive to leave Wài and investigate for himself!”

“What kind of god are you, that you run away from your problems? Have you lived among the mortals for so long that you forget what it means to stand and
fight?
” Krystállina’s words fell so heavily on the air that it reduced Amihan to staring.

BOOK: Broken Road
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