Daughter of the Disgraced King (3 page)

Sav’s arm squeezed her a little tighter. “Then don’t go. Stay
here. Marry me.”

Another shiver passed down Ailsa’s back. This one had
nothing to do with warmth. It was as cold as the wind that swept across the
desert in winter. Give up her hard-earned year of study at the Institute of Magical Arts? It was all she’d worked for these last five years, while others
her age started to pair off. The things she could learn were the only means she
had to bring back the magic Far Terra so desperately needed—if she proved to
have enough talent.

The cold settled in the pit of her stomach. As Sav’s wife,
the wife of the future king, she’d have to give all that up. The barons would
never accept a mage queen. They’d made that abundantly clear a generation ago,
when her father had been forced to abdicate the throne after marrying her
mother. Could she make that choice and give up her magic forever?
Don’t make
a decision now. Sleep on it. That’s what Mama would say.  
“Sav, I’ve been
looking forward to this year my whole life. Now I’m finally about to go and you
. . . spring this on me. I . . . I can’t decide this tonight. It’s not fair to
ask that of me. I . . . need to at least sleep on it.”

Sav smiled. “That’s what your mother would say.”

Ailsa nodded. “This time, I think she’d be right. After all,
you’re asking me to make a decision for the rest of my life.”

Sav exhaled slowly, tipping his head back to look at the
stars, while his arm loosened around her. After a moment he nodded briefly. “All
right. I guess we should be getting back.” He grabbed her hand in both of his. “Promise
to dance with me—and only with me—for the rest of the evening?”

Ailsa prepared to say that that wouldn’t be wise, that the
king wouldn’t like it, but the desperate look in his eyes stopped her. “All
right.”

“And come riding with me tomorrow? Just us. So we can talk.”

No. She needed more time to think, but the look in his eyes
. . . “All right.”

~

As the guests began to leave, Savyon turned away from the
grand hall and strolled up the corridor toward the stairs and his rooms. Now
that Ailsa had gone home, there didn’t seem to be much point in going back to
the ball. Cergio and Perion were still out there, in their element, but Savyon
had never really liked these huge social gatherings. Only dancing with Ailsa
had ever made them bearable.

He much preferred to socialize with just a few close
friends, more casual and simple. Being surrounded by so many people at a time
was exhausting. How was he ever going to cope if Ailsa’s answer was no?

He turned at the sound of quick footsteps approaching.
Savyon barely suppressed a sigh when he saw Cergio bearing down on him.

“Well?” Cergio asked without preamble. “I saw you got her
into the garden? What did she say? Or did you flub it again?”

Savyon drew himself up. “I did not flub it.” His shoulders
sagged a little. “I didn’t do it very well, either. I . . . sort of blurted it
out after all.”

Cergio snorted as if he hadn’t expected anything else. “And?
What did she say?”

“She said she needed some time to think.”

Cergio cocked his head to one side. “Well, that’s not so
bad. Ailsa’s not the kind to play games with you. If she meant no, she’d have
said it right out.”

Savyon smiled a little. “That’s true. Ailsa always has
wanted to look at things from all angles. Father’s suspicions of her family
have made her overcautious.” He couldn’t help thinking about that kiss. Ailsa
certainly wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t at least been thinking about
saying yes. And the kiss itself . . .

Cergio squinted at his older brother. “What else? By that
goofy look on your face, something else happened.”

“She kissed me.”

Cergio let out a low-voiced whoop and clapped his brother on
the shoulder. “About time
one
of you made a move. See? She wouldn’t have
done that if she wasn’t at least intrigued by the idea. So, what’s next?”

“We’re going riding tomorrow—alone—so we can talk.”

Cergio smirked. “Talk. Right. Well, now that she’s opened
the door for you, just make sure that talking isn’t all you do. Where are you
going to take her?”

Savyon shrugged. “Ailsa knows all the riding paths so well.
Maybe I should let her choose.”

Cergio gave him a pitying stare. “Not if you really want to
get her alone, you shouldn’t. Girls just naturally gather into packs. Though,”
he added slowly, “that’s not usually true of Ailsa. Still, it’s your job to
split her out from the herd, just like you did tonight.” He paced a few steps
down the hall and then back. “There’s that trail up to the lookout. That’s
pretty reliably empty this time of year.”

“Ailsa loves that spot,” Savyon said. “But I don’t think she’s
been there in a while.”

“There you go, then.”

~

Ailsa couldn’t sleep. She lay in her bed, staring at the
ceiling and trying to sort out how everything had suddenly changed so much in
just a few hours. The whole world had seemed to spin and settle in a new
configuration during that single kiss.

This was not something she’d ever prepared herself for.
Ailsa had never put much thought into marriage. None of the barons or their
heirs would ever consider asking for her hand. Not with her father’s tenuous
political position handicapping her. She’d been resigned to that before she
ever went to her first ball and determined to pour herself into useful work
instead. If anyone ever did offer to marry her, it could only be some very
minor noble or even a commoner, maybe some wealthy merchant looking to improve
his social status. And Mama would never permit
that.
No one of higher
rank would take the risk of a connection to the disgraced ex-king. No one but
the new king’s own son, apparently.

She just hadn’t had any time to get accustomed to thinking
of Sav that way. Ailsa had watched the courtships of the other girls her age a
little wistfully. She had observed a sort of natural progression in them. Both
the girls and the young men who courted them had months, sometimes longer, to
ease into their relationships so they were comfortable with it. Knowing Sav, he’d
probably taken some time to come to this realization, too. More than three
days, certainly. Shouldn’t she have as much time as Sav had taken?

Sav. She’d allowed herself to daydream about him, a little.
A girl had to dream about something and Sav was what most girls would dream
about—tall, handsome, smart, kind, an actual prince, even. Why shouldn’t she
dream about him? But she’d never allowed the dreams to go further than a secret
kiss. She’d never actually expected him to say he loved her, let alone want to
marry her. Partly because it simply hadn’t seemed possible. Only now, apparently,
it was possible after all. If she was willing to give up her other dreams,
anyway. Daydreams aside, did she love Sav? Really? As more than a friend? Maybe.
She felt closer to him than just about anyone else, even her parents. And when
she’d kissed him . . . .

That kiss. True, she didn’t have a lot to compare it to.
Perion and Cergio had both found opportunities to get her alone for a kiss on
her seventeenth birthday, as was customary for a girl reaching marriageable
age. Not Sav, though. If only he had, maybe she wouldn’t be so confused right
now. Perion’s kiss had been sort of a near-miss peck, which she nevertheless
found to be damp and a little strange. Cergio had more practice—well, of course
he had. His kiss wasn’t damp or strange. In fact, Cergio’s kiss had been rather
nice, but it was nothing at all like Sav’s, either. There’d been no tingles, no
fire with Cergio. She hadn’t been breathless or confused. She hadn’t wanted to
cling to him and kiss him again, over and over. No, there was definitely
something very special about kissing Sav. And she very much wanted to keep
doing it.

She was too restless to stay in bed. She got up and paced
back and forth across the room, instead. It wasn’t reasonable to expect her to
make a decision like this—a decision that overturned everything she’d ever
expected of her life—in only three days. It wasn’t fair. Her mother had taught
her two things, above all. One was to never make a big decision on an empty
stomach or without sleeping on it. The sleeping on it part was proving harder
than Ailsa expected. The other was to always look carefully at both sides
before making a choice.

She’d already been musing over the plus side. What about the
other side? Well, there was the king. Having King Ewart as a father-in-law was
a pretty big negative. Just the thought made her shudder. She couldn’t imagine
the king would be too pleased to have her as a daughter-in-law, either. Though
he tried, Sav was already constrained by his father’s edicts in what he could
do to make things better in Far Terra. Would marrying her make that even harder
for him? Definitely something she should talk over with Sav before making a
decision.

Then there was her year of study in the south. That had
always been her plan. Ailsa’s great secret fear was that she wouldn’t have
significant magic, or that it would be something useless to Far Terra. Her
great hope was that she had some talent that could actually help in taming the
desert wilderness, like Aunt Izbel’s water magic. If she did, and she didn’t
develop that talent, she’d regret that for the rest of her life. She stopped
her pacing. Regret. That was the key. If she never found out what she was
capable of, she’d always wonder, always regret the missed opportunity.

If Sav really loved her . . . if she loved him . . . then a
year wouldn’t matter. She was only seventeen and he wasn’t even nineteen yet. There
was no reason not to wait. Give both of them time to be sure. Having made a
decision—even if it was only to wait before making a decision—Ailsa’s
restlessness drained away. She crawled back into bed and closed her eyes. And,
as if she wasn’t already confused enough, she dreamed about kissing Sav.

 Ailsa allowed Pearl to follow Sav’s lanky black onto the
path that wound up into the hills and around to the top of the highest peak of Far
Terra. The forest was so thick here that they had to ride single file much of
the way, which effectively prevented conversation. Below, it was mostly mixed
live oaks and a few sycamores. Up here, though, it was a pine forest and the
trees were in better shape than the woods below—closer to the desert.

Ailsa watched Sav’s straight back and the way his hips moved
with the horse’s gait. Before, she’d never permitted herself to dwell on these
things. It did no good to think too much about what she could never have. Now
she was seeing him differently—his broad shoulders, how his neatly-trimmed hair
was as glossy and black as the horse he rode. Those things made her smile.

But there was also the stiffness that never seemed to quite
leave his erect posture and how that kept him from really flowing with his
horse’s movements. Sav took everything so seriously. That stiffness was usually
reserved for everyone else, not her. It reminded her of how white his knuckles
had been, gripping his own knees, when he’d sprung his proposal on her last
night. For better or worse, their relationship had shifted last night. Ailsa
swallowed down a lump in her throat. Her answer was going to be hard on Sav. He’d
probably be hurt that she wasn’t ready to just say yes. She hated that. She simply
couldn’t see any other way forward. Not one that she wouldn’t regret later,
anyway. And if she did, he’d regret it too, eventually. No. Leaping in wouldn’t
be good for either of them in the long run.

They came out on the viewpoint, an outcrop of granite just
below the peak. She drew in a deep breath, memorizing the scent of Far Terra.
The air smelled of the pines that surrounded her, not the arid desert from
which this forest had been wrested. Ailsa moved to stand at the edge and took
it all in. From here it was possible to see a large chunk of Far Terra spread
out below them. The dark green of the forests on the slopes of the hills, the
brighter green of the cropland surrounding the city, all encircled by the dead
tan of the desert. Farther out, the blue-green circles of more land reclaimed
from the desert by sweat and magic, some of them connected to the city by narrow
ribbons of green. One wider belt of green stretched into the south, connecting Far
Terra with the rest of the Empire. Day after tomorrow, she’d be on her way
south along that corridor.

This used to be one of Ailsa’s favorite spots because from
here it had been possible to actually
see
the gradual greening of the
desert. Until recently, at least. She hadn’t come up here in the last three
years, since the effects of King Ewart’s rift with the mages had become
apparent. She’d been right to be afraid of what she’d see. From where she
stood, she could make out a yellowed rim around the green cropland and far too
many brown spots of dead trees on the lower slopes. Even the green ribbons that
had connected the outposts of progress against the desert showed gaps. Ailsa’s
stomach twisted and she swallowed down bile. After five generations, Far Terra
was failing because of mismanagement by an incompetent king.

Ailsa balled her fists. She could forgive King Ewart for his
insecurities. He’d never been raised or trained to be a king, as Papa often
reminded her. She could even forgive his almost paranoid distrust of her father
and the way his suspicions had impacted her family. She’d never forgive him for
the harm he’d done to Far Terra. Could she really see that man as her father-in-law?

Ailsa shook her head. Sweat wasn’t enough. Far Terra needed
magic to succeed. In a short time, she’d know whether she had the potential to
try to repair the damage. There was no way she could turn her back on that
possibility without at least knowing what she could do to help. She let her breath
out in a long sigh. “I used to love this place.”

“I know,” Sav said.

Ailsa slowly turned away from the view to find Sav busy
setting up a picnic under a huge pine tree near the edge of the lookout. She
tugged on the end of her braid. This was going to be harder than she’d imagined.
Sav wouldn’t like what she had to say. She could only hope that he’d understand
her decision to wait. She couldn’t expect him to like it. She just had to make
him see that she wasn’t rejecting him. Well, it wouldn’t get any easier by
standing here watching him. She walked over and sat down on the blanket across
from him.

Sav handed her a glass of wine. “So, have you had enough time
to think?”

Ailsa sipped to give herself time to formulate an answer. She
looked up to meet Sav’s eyes. “No, I can’t decide yet, Sav. This . . . just
came out of the blue. And I can’t choose all in a day.” As Sav’s face drooped,
she hastened to add. “Until last night, I could only dream that you’d ever even
think of me that way.” She smiled at him, shaking her head a little. “I
have
dreamed about it—asleep and awake. But I never thought it would actually be
possible. So I made myself dream of other things, like helping keep Far Terra
green. I haven’t begun to have time to adjust my thinking. My head is still
spinning and I can’t . . . I can’t make a lifelong decision when I can’t even
think clearly.”

Slowly, the corners of Sav’s mouth drew up into a smile. “You
dreamed about me?”

Ailsa smiled back. “All the time. There’s never been anybody
else I thought about that way, Sav. I still can’t quite believe you actually
proposed to me last night. That it wasn’t just another dream. I never expected
anyone, least of all you, to propose marriage to me.”

He blinked at her in evident surprise. “No one?”

Ailsa shrugged. “It just didn’t seem possible. No one Mama
would deem worthy would ask—for fear of offending your father.” She looked
away, back to the view. “I’d made up my mind to dedicate my life to advancing
the work of making Far Terra into the garden it can be, someday. Especially if
I’m fortunate enough to have useful magic.”

He reached across to take her hand. “But now you don’t have
to do that.”

She squeezed his hand to take the sting out of what she had
to say next. “But I
want
to, Sav. I want to . . . to be of use. To make
a difference.”

His eyes seemed to burn into her. “You could do that as my queen.”

Ailsa swallowed and tugged on her braid again. “Look around,
Sav. Go look down at the view from the edge over there. You can see how badly Far
Terra needs mages. And the only ones who will stick it out despite . . .
everything, are ones that were born here, who love Far Terra as you and I do. So
few new mages have consented to come out from Terranion in recent years. And
they never stay long.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “I can’t do anything or
decide anything until I know what I’m capable of. And I can only be tested at
the Institute of Magical Arts. It may be that I have no significant talent. I’ve
certainly never been able to do most of the things Mama has tried to teach me.
Or I may have a talent that’s no use here.” That was her great fear, the one
she’d never voiced aloud. She could say it to Sav, though. “If . . . if it
turns out I’m a heat mage, like Mama, I might just turn around and come
straight back.”

Sav’s shoulders slumped. “I see.”

Ailsa reached across and took his hand. “Sav, why do you
want to marry me?”

Sav looked into her eyes. “Because I love you.”

Butterflies danced in Ailsa’s stomach. She couldn’t help
smiling at those words. She drew in a shaky breath. “Princes—especially Crown
Princes—don’t marry for love.”

Sav tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers
lingering on her cheek just a little longer than necessary. “Princes don’t
often marry
only
for love. Sometimes, they’re lucky enough to fall in
love with a woman who will make the perfect queen.”

Ailsa cocked her head to one side, flushing. “Would I be a
perfect queen?”

“Of course.” He released her hand and started ticking off
points on his fingers. “You understand the politics of Far Terra better than
almost anyone, except your father. Maybe better than I do. You’d make an
amazing advisor on that. You love Far Terra as much as I do and you see the
same problems. Think of the work we could do together, putting things back on
the right course. As you say, making Far Terra the garden it could be. You’re a
great help to me already, easing the burden of the public part of the job. You
could do that even better as my wife.”

Ailsa raised her wine to her mouth to hide her frown. That
was all very logical. And not at all romantic. Sav’s intelligence was one of
the things she loved about him but . . . this made her wonder just what it was
about her that Sav loved. The butterflies in her stomach were quiet, now, and
the warm flush she’d felt dissipated. Something important was missing. Wasn’t
it? She didn’t really feel loved—not in the way she wanted to be. Maybe that
was what courtship was for. Well, if he was going to be logical, why not a real
splash of cold water? “How do you think your father will feel about this?”

Sav grinned. “See, that’s another reason this is the perfect
marriage. Our marriage will reunite both royal lines. It’d put an end to his
fear of a coup—not that that was ever likely to happen.”

Ailsa rubbed at her eyebrow. She didn’t really think King
Ewart would look at it that way. In her opinion, the king wasn’t likely to
welcome anything that tended to favor either her father or, for that matter,
Sav. Sav had disagreed with his father too often for the king to want to see
him gain politically. “Do you think your father will welcome a marriage that
strengthens your position more than his?”

Sav looked away to the overlook. “I don’t like being at odds
with Father. Every time we fight over the misuse of the mages it feels like I
lose a little more of his trust. We should be working together for the good of our
country, not pulling in opposite directions. I should be his right hand. This .
. . this isn’t good for Far Terra. But, see, if he could just finally relax and
realize that your father has no intention of trying to take back the throne,
maybe he could see other problems more clearly. The real problems. I hope our
marriage might finally convince him of that.”

Ailsa took a piece of the cheese Sav had laid out and chewed
while she thought. Sav was right about the way things should be. She just didn’t
have any faith that it would work out that way. Not as long as Ewart was king.
And she wasn’t at all sure that she was ready to step into that political
maelstrom. Not even for Sav.

Sav reached across to take her hand again. “What are you
thinking?”

Ailsa drew a deep breath and turned to face him. “I’m
thinking that this isn’t something to undertake lightly. There are a lot of
things to consider—both for us and for Far Terra.”

“I’ve been thinking about all of those things for weeks now.”

Ailsa gave his hand a small squeeze. “But I haven’t. And I need
to. Some of these are things we should talk about. Father has always said that
it’s hard for one person alone to look at all sides of an issue. Often you need
someone else’s point of view before you can see the whole picture.”

Sav smiled. “All right. Then you’ll stay and we’ll talk
about . . . about everything.”

Ailsa pulled her hand back. “No. I still need to find out
what I’m capable of. That’s not something I can give up.”

“If you go, marriage will be impossible for us. The barons—”

“No, that’s not true,” Ailsa interrupted. “
When
I go,
a single year is only very basic magical training. I’ll probably be taking as
many classes in the non-magical Academy as at the Institute, even if I do have
talent. Plenty of the barons themselves have gone to the capital for that. Even
my father did, before he took the throne. Even
your
father did. For all
but a few rare talents, early training doesn’t involve much magic at all.”

Sav recaptured her hand. “I don’t want you to be gone for a
year.”

Ailsa smiled. That was better. Less analytical. “Well, that’s
a different sort of problem, isn’t it?” She cocked her head to the side and
looked up at him through her lashes. “You know, there could be another benefit
to this. It’ll give you time to court me properly. It may be petty, but I think
I miss that.”

Sav blinked. “But . . . but you’ll be days away in
Terranion. How can I court you from here?”

Ailsa shrugged, still smiling. “You’ve always been more
comfortable writing than speaking. Maybe it’ll be easier for you this way.”

Sav’s eyes drifted down to her mouth. “But I won’t be able
to do this.” He leaned across and kissed her. The tingles and the warmth
started even faster than they had last night. Ailsa leaned closer. Sav’s arms tightened
around her as if he would pull her across the blanket to him. Then the world
started spinning again. She couldn’t think or even breathe. Ailsa put her hands
on his shoulders and pushed herself away, breaking off the kiss.