Sorrows of Adoration (31 page)

“But I’ll know,” he
said as I sat beside him and he put his arms around me. “And when
you’re an old, white-haired lady I shall tease you about it,” he
laughed.

“Go ahead,” I replied
in a sensual tone. “And I shall challenge you then to take me out
in a coach and repeat the act.”

He laughed loudly at my
bold words, kissing my cheek and clutching me to him. “Aenna,
you’re an absolute delight!”

* * *

We returned home to a
kind welcome, minus the Queen, of course. I didn’t mind her
absence, given that Kurit was always happier when she wasn’t there
glaring at me. The King kissed my cheek and smiled at me and then
solidly embraced his son.

Jarik positively beamed
when he saw us and took my hand for a decorous kiss. “Now I get to
begin my role and watch over you every minute,” he said.

“You make it sound so
arduous,” I replied.

“Not at all. Every man
should be so fortunate to watch over such a lovely Princess,” he
said, bowing and kissing my hand again. I laughed, and he flashed a
handsome smile at me. Then he rose and looked at Kurit. “You have
been a gentleman, I trust?” he asked, and I suspected he was only
half teasing.

Kurit held his hands in
the air as an innocent protest. “I have treated my wife with
respect and kindness, cousin. I require no thrashing for my
behaviour. Do I, Aenna?”

I laughed again. “Not
at all. Jarik, he was an absolute dear.” I took each of their hands
and headed to the parlour. “Come, I want to hear all the gossip
we’ve missed, and we shall tell you about our adventurous trip to
the cottage.”

“Yes, I heard there was
a problem with the coach,” Jarik said as we three went happily to
talk.

That was the beginning
of the most perfect time of my life. Kurit, Jarik, and I spent a
great deal of time together, talking, teasing, and laughing. They
taught me various games of strategy, some using ornately carved
stones on wooden boards. The only time I was not with one or both
of them was during my ongoing studies, which I also loved. I spent
hours in the library, devouring every book I could get my hands
on.

My nights were spent in
Kurit’s arms, or at least by his side. We made love frequently,
breaking the habit only when I began to grow too big to do so
comfortably. I found myself quite addicted to lovemaking, to be
honest.

They were not carefree
days, but my concerns were light and my troubles few and
unimportant. Leiset was a dear and doted on me. In fact, she,
Kurit, and Jarik began a silly competition of caring for me, each
trying to outdo the others. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t
have been happier.

Those days were bliss.
They were truly fantastic.

And then it all fell
apart in the space of a single evening.

I SAT IN MY receiving
room with Leiset one cold and blustery night towards winter’s end.
I had been pregnant for not quite eight months, and my large belly
made sleeping uncomfortable. I stayed up late most nights just to
avoid having to lie in my bed.

Kurit still shared my
bed most nights, though he often asked if I’d be better off trying
to be comfortable alone. I might have been, but the dear man was so
good to me when he was beside me. He rubbed my aching lower back
and swollen ankles. He fretted over me constantly, and I admit I
enjoyed the kind attention. Sometimes he lay beside me with his
hands or his head pressed to my belly, hoping to catch a sound or a
movement. His enthusiasm usually helped to dissipate any
grouchiness I felt as a result of the physical discomfort.

But that night, he and
Jarik were sitting in on an informal Council meeting that was a
prelude to the upcoming semi-annual one. So there I sat, wishing
the meeting would end soon so he would come to me but holding
little hope that it would.

I grew restless and
fidgety. “I wish I had gone to the meeting.” I sighed.

“Aenna, Kurit wouldn’t
have been able to pay attention to the speakers if you were there,
sitting uncomfortably in the hard-backed chair,” Leiset said.

“I know. That’s why I
said I’d stay here when he invited me. I just don’t like feeling
uninformed.”

“He promised to brief
you tomorrow. You don’t look very well. Shall I fetch you some
tea?” she offered.

I was about to refuse
when a knock came at the door. She rose to open it.

“Good evening to you,
Leiset,” I heard a voice say behind the door. “Lady Sashken’s
maidservant Eyill has requested your assistance in the
library.”

“Whatever for?” Leiset
asked, annoyed. The door had swung open far enough that I could see
the current hall guard who was delivering the request.

“Forgive me, she did
not say. She said only that it was urgent,” he said.

Leiset looked at me and
rolled her eyes. “This makes no sense.”

“Go ahead,” I said.
“She must have a reason, and there’s really no point in causing a
fuss over it. I’ll be fine here.”

“I shall be back soon,
then,” she said, closing the door behind her as she left.

So there I sat alone,
grumbling to myself about how everyone told me I looked so radiant
when what I truly felt like was an overstuffed bag of skin. Another
knock soon came to the door. Instead of rising, I just shouted,
“Come in! It is unlocked.”

The door opened slowly
to reveal the timid maid Melly, clutching a sealed letter in her
hands. “Forgive my disturbance, Your Highness,” she said softly,
curtsying repeatedly, as was her wont.

I tried to look
pleasant for the poor thing. “That’s fine, Melly. What do you have
there?”

She looked at the note
in alarm and said, “I just found it now, in the kitchen. Your
Highness, I don’t know why it was there. I can’t imagine why!”

I reached out my hand
for it. “Don’t worry Melly, it’s all right. Just give me the
letter.”

She hurriedly brought
it to me, apologized again, curtsied again, and scampered away.

It was a folded and
sealed piece of paper with the words “Deliver Immediately to
Princess Aenna” on one side, in unfamiliar handwriting. I cracked
the seal and read the note.

“Your Highness,” it
read, “His Highness Prince Kurit graciously requests that you meet
him as soon as you are able in the courtyard.” That was all. There
was no signature nor other indication the author of the note,
though I knew it was not Kurit’s handwriting at all.

I puzzled at the
strange request and then thought perhaps Kurit was up to some silly
surprise or game. Perhaps he had some gift for me in the courtyard,
though that would be a strange place to give a gift to a woman with
child on a cold, windy night. I had no notion as to how long the
note had remained undelivered in the kitchen, but the idea that the
poor man might have been waiting out in the cold for me for some
time prompted me to hurriedly rise and fetch a cloak.

As I went out the door
with the note in hand, I pondered leaving another note for Leiset
but was reluctant to keep poor Kurit waiting alone outside any
longer. Instead, I told the hall guard that I was going to find
Kurit and asked him to tell Leiset when she returned, so she would
not worry. He nodded pleasantly, and I hurried downstairs.

I spoke with a guard by
the main doors briefly, only to learn that he had not seen Kurit go
outside nor come in. I fretted that he had been out there for a
long time and quickly went out.

There was not a great
deal of snow on the ground, as we had been fortunate enough to have
had a mild winter so far. There were, however, small drifts about
the shadowy areas, and the whipping wind gathered bits of ice from
them to be tossed into my face, making it difficult to see. I
pulled the cloak around me and looked for Kurit, but the ice-wind
and sudden darkness after being in the well-lit palace conspired to
blind me.

I stumbled down the
steps towards the gate when I heard a voice that I did not
recognize call my name softly. I turned to the sound, which came
from the south, in the poorly lit end of the courtyard by the
smokehouse. I could see no one there, so I called out, “Kurit?” but
there was no response.

A dreadful apprehension
seized me as I walked towards the sound. This was unlike Kurit, and
if he thought he was being amusing he was sorely mistaken. I tugged
my cloak tightly around me and shivered as I stepped foolishly
towards the dark corner.

Just as I realized that
I could make out figures standing in the dark, one of them lunged
at me and clamped a hard hand over my mouth. I tried to scream
through it, but the stranger’s hold was unyielding. A second man
joined him and grabbed my legs. I kicked hard, managing to land a
blow to his chin, but he overpowered me quickly. A third figure
stepped out from behind the cart in the shadows. My eyes widened in
alarm as I recognized Sashken’s face peering at me out of her
hooded wrap.

I struggled anew,
terrified, knowing full well that her presence meant something
horrible was about to happen to me. But the men were very large and
strong, and my flailing accomplished little. I tried desperately to
make noise, to knock against something, to scream out. There had to
have been guards on the wall above us, and I fought to alert
them.

Sashken muttered,
“That’s enough of that,” and whacked my head soundly with something
very hard, making me lose consciousness instantly.

When I came around, I
found myself bound, gagged, and enclosed in what I panicked to
think might be a coffin. I struggled but could neither break my
bonds nor loosen them at all. I heard muttering voices above me and
recognized one to be Sashken’s. I decided to hold still for the
moment to hear as much as I could.

“This is very
important,” she instructed them in harsh whispers that I prayed
would be heard by the guards. “I don’t want her found for some
time, if at all. Take her far from Endren before you kill her, and
hurry. Once they find her note, the Prince will ride after her to
convince her to come back home. You have to be far from Endren when
he starts looking. I want no chance of him finding her. Do you
understand?”

Then the box I was in
started moving, and I realized I was hidden in a smuggler’s
compartment below the cart. I wiggled about in an effort to make a
thumping noise, hoping, praying that someone would hear and rescue
me. I screamed into my gag. I screamed and cried and screamed
again, but even I could tell that the sound of the horse and wheels
on the stone roads was louder than any noise I could make.

When I had screamed
myself hoarse, I lay in the box weeping pathetically. I called out
to Kurit in my mind, knowing that he could not hear it. I
envisioned him finding that I was gone, when he had spent so much
time before our wedding worrying that I would run away. The thought
that Sashken was planting a note for him to make him believe I had
left willingly made me scream out again—a raw, tortured sound that
crawled from my torn throat.

Then a glimmer of
hope came to me as I thought,
Jarik, my dear Champion—he will have a level head.
He will know that I wouldn’t have left willingly, not eight months
with child! Not when I’ve been so obviously happy! He will have the
entire King’s Guard and every other available man searching for me
immediately!

I stopped crying. I
realized the guards at the gate would remember a cart leaving in
such a hurry so late at night, undoubtedly only minutes before the
gate was to be locked. Once that was reported back to those who
searched, they’d know the direction to follow. Perhaps there was
even sufficient snow outside the city for tracks to be
followed.

I forced myself
to be calm.
They’ll find me,
I convinced myself.
Jarik will find me. Kurit will find me. They will
overtake this cart before these horrible men can harm me. And when
they take me out to do the deed, if I have not yet been found, I’ll
kick and bite and struggle and claw until I can run away. Please
find me, Jarik, Kurit, please,
I thought to them.

But the cart did not
stop. I heard no thunder of hooves, no frantic cries of men
searching, no commands to halt. Then my heart sank and my fear
returned with full force as I realized Kurit and Jarik were in the
Council meeting, which could last long into the night. Furthermore,
I had told the guard to tell Leiset I was fine. If the note Sashken
spoke of was delivered to Kurit’s door directly, no one would
realize I was gone for some time.

I began trying to
escape, frantically feeling around the compartment for a protruding
nail, a splintered board, anything sharp against which I could rub
my bonds to tear them. I found nothing, and began instead kicking
the boards, but the awkward movement cramped my pregnant belly, and
I felt I would be sick. I knew if I was sick with a gag in my mouth
I would choke, so I forced myself to be still until the feeling
passed.

So I lay there in
dread, fearing the worst, unable to save myself. I wept quietly,
more for my poor Kurit than myself. Losing a wife and unborn child
in one evening would be hard on any good man, but Kurit was so
protective of me that this was sure to destroy him. All the times
he had lovingly told me how he could not live without me flooded my
mind, and I began to sob for him. And Jarik, poor, good, strong
Jarik, my Champion—he would feel such guilt for this. Then there
was Leiset—she would be so distraught! She would undoubtedly blame
herself for leaving me alone.

My heart ached for my
loved ones. I hated myself for being unable to escape for them. I
wept pathetically, caged in a small box, while the cart sped along
through the night.

Eventually, I became
numb inside. Knowing that I was about to die, feeling such loss for
my unborn child, such agony for those who loved me—it all became
too much, and something in me became detached. The only feeling of
which I was really aware as the hours passed was a desperate need
to urinate. As night became day, I was finally unable to hold it.
My wet clothes soon became cold and stiff, but still I was numb.
More so, in fact, for the depression of having soiled myself.