The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) (7 page)

“I also want to please you.” As she spoke, she
lifted her hand and reached for his face. She encountered the
slightly rough surface of his jaw.

His sharp intake of breath made her pause. Did
he like it? Was she being too bold? Just when she lost her nerve
and began to lift her fingers away, he caught them. He kissed the
palms.

“Thank you, Lirth.” The vibration of his voice
against her skin produced a warmth in her middle. “You already
do.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted them before
Lirth recovered control of her tongue.

Ireic rose and stepped away toward the windows.
Making sure they had an acceptable distance between them, Ireic
called a reply.

The door opened. A little girl’s voice said,
“Madam Eve wishes the princess to come begin the preparations for
the ceremony.”

Lirth rose to her feet. “Your Majesty?” She
curtsied in his direction, schooling her face into what she hoped
was a mask of cool indifference.

Sensing from the lengthened silence that he had
dismissed her with a nod, she responded as though he had. “Thank
you, your majesty.”

As she struggled to recall her orientation in
the unfamiliar room, Ireic approached and claimed her hand. He
placed it securely on his arm. “Allow me escort to you, my lady.”
He led her to the door.

“Again thank you, my lord,” Lirth replied with
apparent calm.

In truth, her heart thumped frantically in her
chest. What did she think she was doing? If it had been the palace,
she would have had to stand there like a fool until someone else
rescued her. Or, she could have walked into the furniture between
her and the wall. This marriage was going to be a mistake.

__________

Lirth tried to smooth stubborn wrinkle in the
fall of her skirt. She had crumpled it in moment of anxiety and now
it would not lie flat. According to Eve, the gown borrowed its
color from a summer sky.

“Perfect color for your eyes,” Eve said before
rushing off to some other duty.

Spreading the fabric against her leg, Lirth
frowned. The silk sprung back as sharply creased as before. Trahern
would arrive any moment to lead her down the aisle. She needed the
material to lie flat.

“Nobody is going to notice,” Trahern commented
from above her. “Ireic is too nervous and everyone else will be
looking at your pretty face.”

“Make sure Eve did not hear that,” Lirth
cautioned softly.

Trahern laughed. Lirth could not help the
responding smile pulling at her mouth.

“Eve’s beauty surpasses the exterior. The longer
I know her the lovelier she becomes.” He paused. “I have a feeling
you are going to be another such woman, Lirth. Ireic has made a
fine choice. You will be good for him.”

Something about his tone added an additional
meaning to the words. “You aren’t thinking only of him,
though.”

“True,” Trahern admitted. “You will be good for
the country too.”

“You mean for the children I will bear?”

“That and for you yourself. You are discerning
and educated, a perfect confidant. Also, you will give him a reason
to take a stand against the King’s Council’s plans to tax and bleed
Anavrea into anarchy.”

“You don’t think they are going to accept our
marriage when my blindness comes to light?” The realization made
Lirth shiver. Was she prepared to face revolt? Trahern’s
description of Anavrea’s governmental instability made her realize
exactly how precarious her position would be. “Here I thought I was
saving myself by marrying Ireic.”

“Your marriage might be the one thing that saves
this country, Lirth. Remember that when it all threatens to fall
apart around you.”

“How will I manage that?” Her stomach
roiled.

“By making Ireic care. I am not saying he
doesn’t love his country. He does, but he doesn’t want to be king.
If he thinks that he can possibly, by the smallest margin, improve
Anavrea’s chances of survival by abdicating, he would.”

“Why doesn’t he? He would be happier. That is
what you did.”

“He would not be any happier than I am. Do you
think I don’t grieve as my motherland falls apart, riddled with a
disease I cannot even fight?” Genuine sadness and frustration rose
in his voice. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Why didn’t you accept the crown then?”

“I couldn’t. Eve would have never survived at
court. Bit by bit, she would have wasted away before my eyes,
taking my heart with her. No. You, Lirth, were bred for this. You
were trained for this. He needs you. Anavrea needs a king and
queen, the promise of future stability.”

“You sound awfully confident.”

He leaned close. “I am.”

“Here is your jacket, Labren.” Eve approached
and helped her husband with his formal coat. “Is there anything you
need?” The shushing sounds of her brushing the fabric underlined
her query.

Lirth wondered how much Eve had overheard of her
husband’s impassioned speech.

Eve gave Lirth a quick hug. “The ceremony will
start in any moment.”

“Then you should find your seat,” Trahern
suggested and sent his wife off with a kiss and an order to stay
off her feet.

“Why are you so sure that he will love me that
much?” Lirth asked as she adjusted her hand in the crook of
Trahern’s arm. He covered it with his own.

“I am a married man, Lirth.” Trahern leaned in
so she was the only one to hear. “Trust me, I know.”

The time for conversation was past and he began
to lead her toward the chapel. Right before they entered, he
whispered, “Welcome to the family.”

~~~~~~

The next morning, a well sprung carriage carried
the royal couple toward Ana City.

“Are you well?” Ireic’s voice asked, making
Lirth jump slightly at the same moment that the carriage lurched.
She tumbled forward and would have struck the floor, but Ireic
caught her arm. Pulling her back onto the upholstered seat next to
him, he anchored her there with an arm through hers.

Not trusting her voice, Lirth shook her head.
Tears and the desire to lose the contents of her stomach made
opening her mouth too risky. Traveling had never made her this sick
before, but the constant rise and fall of the foothills proved
harder on her body than any journey in her youth. The stuffy
confines of the carriage didn’t help. The thought of two more days
of travel turned her stomach.

Ireic’s large, strong hands caught her face and
guided it gently to where he could examine it. Although the touch
was gentle, Lirth winced at the rough cloth of his gloves.
Realizing the problem, Ireic muttered an apology and released her
face to remove them. The urge to cry broke through her. Lirth, much
to her own dismay, found herself releasing a jerky sob. The dam
broke and she could not stop the storm. She only vaguely realized
Ireic held her and stroked her hair as she cried.

After a long while, her tears dried. She lay
still against the warmth of her husband’s chest feeling wrung dry.
The heat of Ireic’s hand caressing her back brought more comfort
than she expected.

“Better?”

“A bit.”

“I am sorry the journey is so rough on you.” He
sighed. “If there was a way I could deal with the council from a
distance, I would.” His hand ceased moving but did not withdraw.
Heavy and pleasant, it nestled between her shoulder blades, keeping
her close.

Exhaustion, a remnant of her illness and the
strain of the past few days, pulled her toward sleep. She began
drifting off.

“At least you will have Larissa.”

“Hmm?” She grasped at her thoughts, fighting the
enfolding warmth of oblivion.

“You will have help until I can finish with the
council.”

“Right.” Larissa was name of the young girl Eve
chose for Lirth’s companion.

“How long?” Lirth adjusted her cheek against the
warm wool of his tunic.

“A month and a half.”

The carriage hit a bump and Lirth jumped away
from Ireic. Awake and afraid, she tried to calm her wildly beating
heart.

“Are you hurt?” Ireic caught her hand.

“No, just startled.”

He guided her back into his arms, but this time
there was no hope of sleep. The challenges she was to face in the
next weeks disrupted the peace of the moment.

She could do this. After five years in captivity
without a friend, a month and a half should be easy.
At
least
, she told herself,
it will be easier.

~~~~~~

Days later, Lirth no longer believed it was
going to be easier. The actions of her attendants made their
opinion of her clear. Her matron-in-waiting’s cold hands yanked
roughly as they pulled at the laces that cinched the back of
Lirth’s dress closed. Under her breath, the woman muttered
something that Lirth couldn’t make out.

“Where are the queen’s nightclothes?” the Head
Dresser yelled. Her shrill voice raked across Lirth’s calm,
shredding it.

A second woman strode into the room in a
clicking crescendo of heel strikes, a muttered list of complaints
marking her movements. “I ordered them made three days ago. They
should be here by now. I want my nightgown back.”

You can have it,
Lirth mentally replied.
It itches.

The noble woman’s nightdress contained more lace
than any other material. Lirth spent her first night in Ana City
willing herself not to move or scratch her skin raw. After little
sleep in her big cold bed, Lirth found her nerves more sensitive
than usual.

Besides, she missed Ireic. They only shared a
bed for one night, their wedding night, but she longed for the
warmth and companionship he brought with him.

Wakening each morning to her matron-in-waiting’s
cold disapproval for sleeping late didn’t help either. Lirth spent
most of the each day being jerked about and stuck with pins. Once
she donned each costume, she perched precariously on a tiny stool
while seamstresses poked and hemmed. Suffering silently as her
icy-handed matron-in-waiting trussed her into and out of dress
after dress, she was subjected to a litany of whispered gossip and
backhanded jabs at her father, his court, and his lack of
provision.

“Imagine sending your only daughter to be wedded
to the King of Anavrea without a selection of suitable clothing to
fit her new status as queen of the most influential nation on the
peninsula. What was wrong with the father? Something must be wrong
with the child, aside from the obvious, of course.”

She felt sorry for the seamstresses. The Head
Dresser yelled, whined, and fussed. Lirth heard the blows falling
about the girls’ heads and shoulders. Silent and unfazed they
continued to work. Taking strength from their longsuffering, Lirth
stood straight and silent through it all.

Her new chambers appeared to be a constant
thoroughfare. Lirth heard other ladies as they moved through the
room, gossiping and laughing. She caught a few snide remarks about
her lack of curves and the fact her ribs were showing.

“I doubt she will last the week before she turns
sick,” one woman said without bothering to lower her voice.

Lirth ignored them. There was nothing else she
could do. In prayerful silence, she waited as the handmaiden lifted
the last dress over her head and began fussing with the stays
compressing her waist. Soon she would be in bed and alone. Then she
could confer with the Kurios in peace. She wasn’t sure she would
make it through another day like this without help.

Suddenly a hush fell over the women. The
matron-in-waiting stopped her wrenching at the stays with a sharp
intake of breath.

Lirth strained her ears. An eerie sense of
discomfort fell over her. Had someone entered that she couldn’t see
or hear? Why had everyone fallen silent?

“There is a gentleman to see you, Your Majesty,”
a voice announced suddenly from the vicinity of her right
shoulder.

She jumped slightly and almost fell off the
stool. The voice was male. He stood too close for propriety, even
if she wasn’t only half dressed. A warm flush flooded Lirth’s face
as she turned away from him. She wore only her stays and the
strange new fashionable undergarments they insisted she needed. Why
did these women let a man into the room while she was in such a
state of undress?

“A robe,” Lirth demanded with all the strength
she could summon. Holding out her hand into nothingness, she waited
expectantly. She couldn’t insist that the man leave. She doubted
her authority with these women went that far. A robe would
suffice.

Apparently everyone was ignoring her. The only
movement the Head Dresser made was to approach the man with a
clatter of heel clicking. Her skirts rustled as if she were
adjusting them.

“Her majesty will not be ready to allow visitors
for another few minutes. Let me escort you out.”

Lirth finally lowered her hand as the doors
closed behind them. Holding back tears, she closed her eyes as
humiliation flooded through her. She resisted the impulse to sit
and cry. At least when she remained a captive of the Baron, she
possessed solitude in which to hide. She hated standing exposed on
a stool, vulnerable.

Suddenly freezing, she shivered as the
matron-in-waiting pulled the last tie free and the stays fell away.
Icy hands helped her out of her underthings and into her new
nightdress, a delicate thing of silky material. It was going to do
nothing to hold off the drafts of the grand bedroom. As the folds
of an equally flimsy robe floated down to settle on her shoulders,
the Head Dresser returned.

“A councilor wishes an audience,” she
announced.

Straightening her shoulders, Lirth decided to
put her foot down. Looking into the darkness in the direction of
the woman’s head, she declared firmly, “I do not wish to see
him.”