Shadowborn (Light & Shadow, Book 1) (36 page)

And yet, I knew without a doubt that someday
it must come tumbling down. I could only hope that, by the time it
did, she had a crown on her head and a son in the cradle.

Chapter 30

Once more, I walked the long road back to
gaining Miriel’s trust. I had never apologized for my cruel words
to her, just as she never apologized for any of the taunts and
insults she made. Neither of us spoke of our role in the palace, or
of how much resentment we carried for the other, who was our jailor
and our companion all in one. I could not look at her but that I
saw the reason I was here, in danger, and I assumed that Miriel
could not look at me without being reminded of her uncle’s plans.
We watched each other in wary silence.

The year turned, and, in the dark and cold
of the new months, Miriel’s fifteenth birthday came with a little
feast in her rooms, and gifts of new gowns and jewelry. The maidens
feted her with a special dance, those who liked her wishing her
well and giving her little gifts, Marie de la Marque and her
faction smiling tightly and wishing her a joyous birthday. Marie
was much diminished, and she could only try to accept her status
with as much grace as Miriel had shown.

A month later, my own birthday came and went
with barely an acknowledgement. No one other than Roine even knew
when my birthday was—few enough peasants could name the day of
their birth—and so I had only a little fruit pie and Roine’s
whispered, “Happy Birthday.” She gave me a little carving of a
mountain range, knowing how I missed home, and I came back to
Miriel’s rooms and put it on my tiny shelf, next to my clothes.

“
What’s that?” Miriel asked
sharply.

“
A gift from Roine. For my
birthday.” I looked over at her, but she had already looked away. I
thought that was the end of it, but the next day, I found a new
leather belt lying on my bed. Miriel refused to be thanked for it,
saying sweetly that of course I needed a new belt—could I not see
what a mess I looked? I bit my tongue, but I did not forget the
incident. I found myself turning it over and over in my head, quite
unable to figure out the constant puzzle that was my mistress. It
seemed like, whenever the pieces came close to coming together,
they split once more and shifted around.

“
Do you trust her?” Roine
asked one day, while I was grinding leaves for an ointment. One of
the cooks had cut his hand quite badly, and Roine had offered to
make him a salve that would keep the wound from festering. Having
declared this a learning opportunity, she was overseeing me as I
worked.

“
No,” I
admitted.

“
But you work to gain her
trust.”

“
Yes.”

“
And she does nothing to
earn yours.”

“
Yes.” I shot her a
quizzical look, and then squinted at the ointment.

“
Why should she not work to
gain your trust?” Roine persisted, and I paused for a moment,
considering the question. Such a thought would never have occurred
to me. Miriel had insisted on doing any number of dangerous things,
and I did not trust her in the slightest not to sneak out in the
night, or do something that would lead her uncle to kill both of us
in his rage.

“
It’s different for
nobles,” I said, after a moment.

“
It is not,” Roine said
sharply. “Nobles are no more than ordinary men. You should not
exempt them from common courtesy.” I raised my eyebrows and focused
on the leaves. All I had meant was that there was always the chance
that I might one day run away and be free of this poisonous court,
and Miriel did not truly have that choice. If I did not trust her,
I could leave—if she did not trust me, she must live in fear that
she would die violently. But Roine never seemed to hear anything I
said about myself and Miriel, but that she must tell me I was no
less a person than my liege. Sometimes, I wondered if Roine was
trying to sour me towards Miriel, so that I might take her advice
and run away from the court. Between this thought, and trying to
concentrate on grinding the herbs, I forgot to guard my
tongue.

“
So populist. You should
talk to Miriel,” I joked. “Give her fodder for her next debate with
the King.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I froze.
Roine was staring at me. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said, blushing and
cursing myself. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“
A nothing that the Duke
would thrash you for?” she asked, keenly, and I nodded. “Has he had
her?” she queried, and I stared at her, openmouthed.

“
For shame,” I said,
blushing. “They’re children. They only talk.”

“
Children who might well be
married by now,” Roine said, shrugging. “I hear one of the maids
was just betrothed.”

“
Evelyn DeVere,” I said,
naming Miriel’s cousin. For all that their fathers had been
brothers, and they shared the same curly hair and pointed chins,
one would never know that there was the slightest connection
between the girls. Evelyn hated Miriel with a passion, and Miriel
knew better than to cause a scene with the noble half of her
family. Her claim to nobility was slim enough. “To Piter Nilson’s
son,” I added, though I doubted Roine had any interest.

Roine was, indeed, paying no attention to my
words. Her eyes were narrowed.

“
What did you say about
populist sentiments?” she asked, and I felt a twist of fear. Then
my urge to tell someone won out, and I leaned close.

“
She…
sympathizes.”

“
With the rebellion.”
Roine’s face was a study. “The Duke of Voltur’s heir sympathizes
with the rebellion.”

“
Yes,” I said, unable to
find any other way to say it.

“
They tried to kill her,”
Roine said. I felt the familiar anger, but a touch of
vindication.

“
That’s what I told
her.”

“
And she said?” I sighed.
We had spoken of it earlier in the day, Miriel and I, her wanting
to share her newfound learning with me, and me wanting nothing to
do with it. What was, I saw now, another peace offering, had turned
instead into another fight. I swallowed. I still could not believe
that Miriel’s fascination with the rebellion was anything but
folly.

“
She spoke nonsense. She
said she wanted to know why someone would do that. She wanted to
understand what it was that man believed in. And now she’s been
reading…” I dropped my voice. “I can’t tell you what. Forbidden
books. And she agrees with them.” The disbelief was evident in my
voice, and Roine smiled.

“
And you do
not?”

“
I don’t agree with killing
children, anyway,” I snapped back, and her face fell at
once.

“
No,” she agreed. “That is
a very great crime. A damnable crime.” She looked down into her tea
for a moment. “But you’re sure?” she asked softly. “About
Miriel.”

“
Yes,” I said, still moody.
“She’s crazy.”

“
She’s not crazy,” Roine
said. She shook her head. “She’s very honorable, that
girl.”

“
Honorable?” Honorable was
for knights and Kings, not scheming girls. Or crazy girls, I
thought spitefully.

“
Think about it.” Roine
smiled, but the smile was strained. “If you would leave me, Catwin,
I need to pray.” I nodded, bemused, and then realized that I had
seen the sadness in her eyes when I had reminded her of the
assassination attempt. She looked so sorrowful that I reached out
and squeezed her hand.

“
I’m alright,” I reminded
her. “I’m okay, no one else has come for us.” She
nodded.

“
Yes,” she agreed. The
sadness did not leave her eyes. “I will see you tomorrow for your
lesson, Catwin. Please be safe.” I could see the tears in her eyes,
and I did not know what to say. She did not get up from the table
so that I could hug her, so I squeezed her hand once more and left.
As I closed the door behind me, I could see through the crack in it
that she was kneeling before her little altar, her head bowed. I
felt a strange twisting in my chest, and realized that it was
grief. Roine was bearing her worry and her sadness as best she
could, and I would not heed her and leave this place.

But for the first time, I knew my own mind.
I knew that no matter what it cost me, and what it cost Roine, this
was where I must be. I knew that no matter how many times Roine
begged me to go, I would stay, and, for the first time in my life,
I made my way to the little chapel in the servants’ quarters in our
building, and I stared up at the

icons of the seven gods for a very long
time, the candlelight shifting and sliding as tears welled up in my
eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

This is what a prophecy
is.
The thought was whisper-soft, I could
not have known if it was mine, or some wisdom from the gods.
Fate lies heavy on you, and the road you walk
will not be easy.

Not a few days later, I was shocked to hear
Roine’s sentiments from Miriel’s mouth. We were in the wine cellar
once more, Wilhelm and I perched on two barrels that had been left
by the stairs while Miriel and the King sat a discreet distance
away. The King had come directly from a meeting of the Council, and
had his head sunk into his hands.

“
It’s one thing after
another,” he said miserably. “I managed to undo Guy’s error, the
tensions with Ismir are finally subsiding. I had thought the rebels
had gone away, too, but now a note from Jacces, demanding…insane
things. What do these rebels want? I am a fair King, I have never
levied high taxes or taken their crops. They can have no
complaints. And do you know,” he looked incredulous, “the High
Priest spoke to me, and bid me to listen to them. Senile old man. I
don’t know why my mother keeps him around.”

“
Does your mother support
the rebels’ cause?” Miriel looked surprised, and I admired the
question. It would be quite a strange thing, for the Dowager Queen
to support rebels against her son—but the King shook his
head.

“
No. I don’t think so. I
can’t imagine so. He came to speak to me alone. He said—you’ll
laugh—he said that the early teachings of the Gods were very
populist. Fool.”

“
They just want to be
heard,” Miriel said gently. “They are people who are learned, they
know what they wish for from their lives, and they wonder why they
cannot make it come to pass.”

I froze, but she seemed quite unaffected by
fear. It did her no good. The King looked at her blankly; he was
far from pleased at her words. “Well, then they should speak to
their lords. I don’t know why Nilson is still here—the marriage, I
suppose. But he should be back, calming his people. He should
remind them of their duty to the crown. They subsided once, it
would be easy enough to calm them if they knew their lord was
there, watching them.” For the first time, I heard a petulant note
in his voice, and from Miriel’s faint frown, I gathered that she
did as well. But she tried to calm him.

“
Perhaps they wonder why
Nilson has the power to change their lives, but they do not,” she
explained.

“
That’s how the world
works,” the King said flatly. There are lords, and there are
commoners. The lords rule the commoners, and I rule the lords. How
else could it be?”

Miriel looked for a moment as if she had
been slapped. I saw a dozen thoughts flash behind her eyes, but she
only bowed her head and nodded. Only a few moments later, she mimed
a yawn and the King, once more solicitous, told her that she must
rest. She was trembling as we snuck back to the room, and in the
darkness of the public chamber, I paused.

“
Did you get that from
Roine?” I asked her. “About wanting to be heard, and wanting to
change their lives?” She hesitated, then nodded. The light from the
hall illuminated the line of her jaw.

“
She said that I shouldn’t
tell the King,” she said. “That he wouldn’t like it. But I thought,
normally he’s so thoughtful. I thought he would find it
interesting.” I gave a silent sigh at Roine, who should have known
better than to tell Miriel not to do something.

“
I think…it doesn’t fit
with his plan for a golden age,” I said slowly.

“
What could be more
enlightened than this?” Miriel asked, with the limpid simplicity of
the privileged.

“
You’re joking.”

“
I’m not,” she said. She
was utterly serious. “Have you ever thought about it, Catwin? Did
you read the book?“

“
No. And I knew from the
start it was a mistake to get it for you,” I muttered, and
she

pinched me on the arm.

“
Don’t talk to me like
that,” she said sharply. “And you think about it. Really think
about it.”

“
You
think about it,” I whispered back, hearing my voice come out
strained. “Miriel, that was dangerous, what you did. If he turns on
you, you get nothing. If he suspects you of being a sympathizer, he
could have you killed.”

“
He wouldn’t do that,” she
said, but she said it uncertainly. She was very quiet as we snuck
back to bed, and for the next few days I saw her mulling over what
had happened. She and the King had never disagreed before, and she
could not seem to believe what had happened.