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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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“Indeed. This shouldn’t
be.” I couldn’t take my eyes from it.

I felt his hand gently
squeeze my shoulder. “It should be, and it is. They adore you,
Aenna. Let them adore you. You’re their Queen, and you have
bestowed a great gift upon them. Stop being the barmaid playing
dress-up and start thinking of yourself as a Queen. Don’t be
embarrassed by your subjects’ affection. Delight in it.”

I turned to him. His
kind and loving eyes made me smile. “Now brush your little tears
away, Aenna, and come be with your people. There are many who wish
to congratulate you.” He led me around from person to person. Many
a wealthy merchant expressed their delight in the possible
prosperity of the poor, for they knew as I had that their own
businesses would benefit from a larger customer base. Some noblemen
seemed still sceptical, but all were at least gracious and offered
congratulations.

When finally I found
Kurit again, he was standing off to the side, his arms crossed over
his chest. I resisted the urge to skip girlishly to him, and
instead walked slowly and majestically.

“Kurit, I can’t believe
this is all happening to me. I never could have imagined it!” I
said in an excited whisper when I was at his side.

He did not look at me.
He just stared at the statue with a vaguely annoyed look on his
face.

“Kurit, what is it?” I
asked. When he didn’t answer, I said, “I know, the statue is a bit
much. I really could have lived without that. It’s very kind, but
it’s frightfully embarrassing.” Still, he said nothing. He just
stared at it.

I touched his cheek
softly, knowing the public affection was not entirely appropriate,
but I didn’t care. When he still did not even favour me with a
glance, I tried to unfold his crossed arms to hold his hand. He was
as rigid as the statue that held his eye.

“Kurit, please, what is
it? If that statue offends you, I’ll order it torn down. Please,
your face is so cold. I was so happy when you brought me here, my
arm in yours. And your little kiss before we left, Kurit, that
swept my heart away. I love you so very much. Your love is the most
important thing in my life.”

Finally, he did turn
his head to me. He moved slowly, as though it were a great effort
to force himself to look at the real me after seeing the white
stone version. His eyes were cold and hard, and their jealous stare
made me step back and shudder. Then, in a voice dark with
resentment and anger he said, “You don’t need my love, Aenna. You
have all of Endren’s rabble for that.”

Before I could so
much as drop my jaw in surprise at his vicious words, he turned on
his heel and
walked
away. I stood there, watching him leave, unable to breathe. I felt
as though he had kicked me in the chest and left me to
suffocate.

When he was out of
sight, I managed to gasp in a breath. It made me dizzy, and I felt
faint. The ground seemed to wobble under my feet as though the
stones were becoming water. I felt as though I were a lost child in
the crowd, unsure of who or where I was, panicked and alone.

Then Jarik was beside
me, his hands fast around my arm to steady me. I let myself fall
against him. He held me up, trying to do so in such a way that
would not attract attention.

“What did that
miserable wretch say to you?” he growled.

I could not answer. I
could barely breathe, let alone speak. I stared at the ground,
longing for it to open and swallow me to end my agony.

Jarik shook me as
though to prevent me from fainting. Perhaps I was.

“Aenna!” he said in a
loud whisper. “Aenna, breathe. Come now, look at me and breathe.”
He lifted my face to his. The sight of his angry, concerned eyes
made me shiver. I stood back from him in an effort to compose
myself. The ground soon became stable, though I still longed to be
buried in it.

“What did he say?”
Jarik asked again.

I could not bear to
repeat it. “He is jealous,” I managed to say.

“Jealous? Of what? The
attention you’re receiving? You have earned it, Aenna. Or is he
jealous that you have given so much of yourself to these
people?”

I shook my head, not
knowing the answer. “I don’t understand it, Jarik. All I know is
that he has been poking at me with sharp little jabs for so long
now, and now today he has taken that knife and driven it into my
heart.”

My Champion’s face took
on a look of anguish. I could almost hear his heart breaking for
me. “Let me take you home,” he said softly. “Let me take you where
I can hold you and comfort you.”

I put my arm in his,
and we began to walk away. “I cannot weep in your arms, Jarik, much
as it would comfort me to do so. I must not allow myself to become
so weak that I need that.”

“Aenna, there’s no
shame in needing a friend,” he said quietly as we walked.

I said nothing in
reply. I could not tell him that I didn’t want to let him hold me
because I felt as though it were a tease to him. I knew he loved
me. It was unfair for me to allow him to be so affectionate when by
all that was right I should have been pushing him away that he
might learn to love someone else. So when we reached my chamber
door, I silently went inside and did not ask him in. I closed the
door as he stood in the hall, looking at me with sadness and
love.

 

Chapter
17

 

WITH THE CONSTRUCTION
of the new east end over, I had less excuse to leave the palace and
ended up staying within its walls more often. As a result, I
suffered severe bouts of depression, especially once the snow began
to fall. When the weather had grown too cold and snowy to walk
about the city with Jarik, I took to hiding in my chambers, only
leaving them to be with my son in his nursery. Some days, I did not
even leave my bed until Leiset threatened to have Jarik come and
dump me out of it.

One day I remained
there despite her threats. I stared at the sunlight on the wall,
watching its pattern change as the hours passed. When mid-afternoon
came, Leiset entered with Tash.

I looked at the grim
physician and said, “There is nothing wrong with my health. Leave
me be.”

Tash ignored me, as was
his wont. Leiset recited my symptoms of depression—lack of
appetite, restless sleep, listlessness, ennui, and so forth. Tash
shooed her away and began his poking and prodding and litany of
questions. I answered him curtly, hoping he’d just go away.

“Your Majesty, you are
correct that there is nothing wrong with you physically. But there
will soon be if you continue this. If you suffer so at being in
this palace, may I suggest that you travel elsewhere for a short
time?”

“It’s the middle of
winter, Tash,” I grumbled.

“Indeed. There are
lovely snowy landscapes to behold on your way.”

“I’m not going
anywhere.”

“Yes, you are. Choose a
destination. I’m going to tell Leiset right now to pack your bags
and arrange for your transportation.”

“Don’t you give me
orders, Tash,” I snapped.

He chuckled. “That’s
better. Come then, Aenna. Be angry with me. Get out of this bed and
pull rank and push me around the room. Let’s see some of that old
fire.”

I glared at him. “Your
games won’t work on me. You’re not helping.”

“Someone has to
motivate you out of this bed. Perhaps I’ll send a message to your
friend Lord Cael to come and drag you to Staelorn.”

I sat up in fury.
“Don’t you dare! I am not an errant child in need of a lesson!”

Tash leaned close to
me, his nose a mere finger’s length from my own, and said, “Then
stop acting like one.”

My blood boiled. I
flipped myself out of the other side of the bed and shouted, “Fine,
then!” I opened the door to the receiving room where Leiset stood.
“Pack our bags, Leiset!” I commanded. “Send a message to Cael that
we wish to come visit him in Staelorn.”

I turned back to Tash
and said, “Don’t look so smug. You have not won! I am going only to
prove to you that it will not help. My problem is not these walls
nor this city nor the dullness of winter. My problem sleeps in that
room,” I snarled, pointing to the door between Kurit’s bedchamber
and my own. “I’ll take a little trip as you suggest. I might even
feel better when I return. But mark my words, unless the Gods
favour him with the sense to remember he has a wife who loves him,
anything gained by this trip will be as dust blowing out of my
hands.”

As soon as I stopped
speaking, I was ashamed that I had been so barefaced about the
problems with Kurit. I rubbed my aching head with both hands as I
muttered to Tash leave me be so I could dress myself.

We left the next day. I
decided not to take Raelik along, since I was unhappy and did not
want him to see me that way for extended periods of time. Leiset
and I rode in a small coach that had runners instead of wheels so
it could be pulled along in the snow. Jarik rose his horse
alongside the coach with the other guards.

I watched my Champion
out of the coach’s window. His face was grim as he rode. He had not
spent much time with me during these weeks of depression. When he
had tried, I had gently pushed him away. As I watched him ride, I
felt guilty and wondered if I had hurt his feelings in my attempts
to protect his loving heart.

There was something
very alluring about the sight of him on his horse. He looked very
much the warrior in his armour, his sword strapped to his side and
his shield to his back. He embodied the image of every good warrior
from every bard’s song or written tale, except that he wore no
long, flowing cape because he considered them a hindrance to his
mobility. His hair fluttered in the wind, swept back from his face
in a dark, rippling cascade.

I noticed flecks of
white in the dark beard around his mouth and chin. I realized they
were bits of ice and snow. The rest of him was well bundled against
the cold, but he didn’t like to have hats, scarves, or any other
clothing around his head. He said it interrupted his view of what
was around him.

“He must be freezing
his poor cheeks off,” I said. “He should be in here with us.”

“He knew he was
welcome,” replied Leiset. “He’s been keeping his distance out of
respect. He wants to comfort you, you know.”

I nodded, still looking
at him. “I can’t let him do that.”

“Why not? He adores
you.”

“Precisely. You’ve
answered your own question.”

Leiset sighed. “Aenna,
pushing him away will not stop his worry for you. It makes it
worse. He’s taken to standing guard outside your door again. He can
no more shut off his adoration of you than you can stop loving
Kurit.”

I turned to her
quickly. “Don’t even say that,” I snapped. “Don’t speak to me of
loving Kurit.”

“Very well. I’ll let
Lord Cael talk some sense to you,” she said. “But I will say this:
I care about what is happening to you. Jarik cares about what is
happening to you. We’re your friends, Aenna. We want to help you.
Don’t shut us out in an attempt to appear strong on your own.
You’re not fooling us.”

I turned back to the
window. By the Temple, Jarik looked handsome as he rode—so strong,
so solid. I found myself wishing Kurit were more like his cousin. I
tried to envision my husband on a horse in Jarik’s place, but my
only mental image was that of him riding frantically, calling my
name when I was abducted. My heart sank at the thought. I fell
silent for most of the remainder of the journey.

The only other time I
spoke was to point out to Leiset the Traveller’s Torch as we passed
it. I wondered if anyone there remembered me. Of course, they would
know who I was now, but I wondered if they remembered the barmaid
who had run off one night without explanation. I had half hoped
that we would end up staying at that inn overnight, but another one
had already been selected and prepared for us.

* * *

I spent just over a
week at Staelorn. I was introduced to Cael’s entire family,
including his seven children. They were all very kind, and I did my
best to appear jovial in their company.

Cael spent a great deal
of time alone with me, trying to break me out from behind the walls
I had built around my soul. He was patient and kind yet relentless
in his digging. Eventually I crumbled before him. I did not speak
of Kurit’s drinking, nor did I detail any of his insults. I simply
let Cael hold me—as I imagined a father or brother would have
done—as I wept and told him that I felt as though my marriage was
dying.

“Aenna, dear, this
isn’t your fault. It’s not even really Kurit’s, from what you’ve
told me. I know that man. I’ve known him since he was an infant.
He’s gone through short heartaches before. He’s always returned to
his silly self in time. He will again,” said Cael as he let me weep
on his shoulder.

“I don’t think so,
Cael. This is not a childhood fit. He has been like this since
shortly after I escaped from Wusul.”

Cael looked at me in
astonishment. “That long? Kurit? I do not imagine you to be
untruthful, Aenna, but that is nonetheless difficult to
believe.”

“It is the truth. And
coming here to escape it might do me a few days good, but when I go
home it will be the same. He has forgotten how to love me.”

Cael took my hands
between his own. “Then remind him, Aenna. Now, I don’t mean to be
crude, but remind him physically, and the emotion will follow. If
he will not come to your bed, go to his. Seduce him, if you must.
Remind him of the pleasure and joy of love. I remember well the
desire in his eyes on your wedding day. Again, I don’t mean to be
vulgar, and forgive me if I am, but you need to rekindle the flame
of his desire. Whatever you did on your wedding night, do that
again. Entice him out of his despondency. You are a very beautiful
woman, Aenna. Use your charms on him, and he shall remember the
rest on his own.”

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
11.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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