WayFarer (11 page)

Her father seemed distracted, and Aewen caught him sending Elcon a pensive look more than once. She noticed her father’s interest because she could not deny her own. Try as she might to concentrate on Raefe, her attention drew of its own will to Elcon. And as much as she sought him out, she felt his gaze on her. Each time their glances met something happened inside her, a curious jolting sensation that caused her to stumble in speech and her hands to falter as she gripped her cup. She spilled her honeyed ale and Raefe stood, cursing in a way she’d never heard before, as a stream of pale liquid ran from the table and into his lap. He gave her a violent look, but then a mask came down over his anger. She shuddered, nonetheless, for now she had seen and had no doubt that, when they married, nothing would shelter her from his wrath.

10

Interlude

“Don’t move or I’ll stab you.”

Aewen knew from experience that the dressmaker Glynnda’s pins could draw blood. While balancing on a precarious footstool, she glanced down at the wedding gown snugged about her. “It’s too tight. I can barely breathe.”

“Stop struggling and you’ll find it comfortable.”

With a sigh of her own, Aewen sought relief in the view from the window. Beyond the castle wall the Cobbleford River broadened and bent southward as clouds gathered with the promise of rain and the surface of the water grew murky.

Aewen scowled. Even in nature she found no solace. The violent weather seemed to echo Raefe’s thinly-veiled rage the night before. What would marriage to him bring?

“A bride should not frown so. Come now, Aewen. Anyone would think you were tormented rather than favored with all manner of wedding finery.”

As a pin pricked her skin, Aewen bit back a cry.

Glynnda
tskd
and raised her hands. “I did warn you.”

She blinked away tears that had little to do with the pain that pierced her side.

“Careful!” Mother, neat and prim in cream brocade, appeared self-possessed and beautiful, incapable of her hysterical outburst of the day before. “Perhaps you sulk because Prince Raefe has taken himself without you to Lancert. Well, never mind. He’ll return soon enough and miss you the more for having gone without you.”

She had not known of Raefe’s departure and didn’t long for his return. In truth, she rejoiced in his absence and hoped he would linger in Lancert. How could her mother possibly think otherwise? It was better not to ask. “Are you recovered from yesterday’s upset, Mother?”

She sniffed. “Had that
Kindren
warned me of what it would be like to ride such a beast, I would never have risked my life on its back. Pray, speak no more of it, Aewen, for I do not wish to remember the incident. It is well the Kindren leave our gates soon. Perhaps even today.”

“Ouch!”

Glynnda sat back on her heels. “Aewen, please. You’ll bleed on this fine linen and ruin your wedding dress.”

“The Kindren leave today?”

“You sound as if you care. I can’t think why. Your father plans to ask them to leave after all they’ve put me through.”

“Did he say as much?”

“No, but I’m sure he will do so. Besides what I endured at their hands, I am told the Kindren visitors humiliated our guests from Darksea.”

“Look what you’ve done now!” Glynnda’s protest sounded sharper than usual.

Aewen stared at the small spot of blood that stained the side of her wedding dress. “It’s an omen.”

****

A flurry of white feathers greeted Elcon. He released the weilo branch as the egret he’d startled winged across a steel-gray sky. Balancing on the flat rock at the edge of Aewen’s pool, he peered into its green depths while listening to the wind stirring the grasses. He shook his head at his own folly in expecting her to find him here, as if his need might call her to him.

He’d dragged himself from bed early and ducked out alone, without Kai’s knowledge. Although he never censored him, Elcon thought Kai did not entirely approve of his actions. He should leave today rather than linger here pining like a love-struck youth. Euryon already hinted he would like the Kindren to leave. Inydde must have blamed Elcon for her own foolishness. Whether or not Euryon believed her, the king would want to please his wife. It was past time to move on to Norwood. Euryon had already given him the only promise he would make. No reason remained to stay at Cobbleford—no reason save one.

He could not forget the tears in Aewen’s eyes the last time he’d seen her. Through a long, sleepless night, he’d made an uneasy peace with the fact that, once he left, he might never look upon her again. Perhaps it was better that way. But he couldn’t leave without knowing she was safe. Something was not right with this betrothal of hers, and after seeing Raefe’s treatment of her yesterday, he could not settle to the thought of leaving her in the power of such a man. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d held. To find release, he needed to hear Aewen say she wanted Raefe and no other.

He turned to go back, for peace eluded him.

The weilo branch swayed and Aewen, wrapped in a black woolen cape, appeared. He blinked, not quite believing she stood before him. With her pale eyes and wan face, she looked insubstantial, like some wraith sprung from his imaginings. He touched her arm to make sure of her. His laugh caught in his throat. “I could almost believe you come to me in a dream.”

She did not smile. “I do wish this a dream, one that I might return to at will. Then I would ever after find my way to you.”

His hand tightened on her arm. “Take care. Do you not know the effect of such words?”

She looked at him out of pale eyes and said nothing.

He groaned and drew her into his arms, pressing his lips to her hair, her forehead, and finally her mouth. She went to him willingly, lifting her arms to enfold him, kissing him back with innocent fervor. For a time he knew nothing but the taste and feel of her.

They pulled apart, gasping for air, and gazed into one another’s eyes. He traced a tear, just forming at the corner of her eye. “I believe I have fallen in love with you, Aewen. I can’t deny it. You’ve occupied my mind and my heart from my first sight of you.”

She covered his hand with her own, the tips of her fingernails blunt against his skin. “Then we are a pair of fools, for I love you, too.”

He kissed her to seal their pledge of love, however ill-fated it might prove.

“When do you leave?”

He heard the catch in her voice and laced her fingers in his own. He would let her go, but not yet. “That depends on you.”

Her brow creased. “I cannot hold you, Elcon.” She faced the pool. “I am promised to another and must give penance for all I have said and done this day. And you are not altogether safe here.”

“Aewen.” He turned her toward him. “It’s true. All you say separates us, and more besides. But I can’t leave without knowing you give yourself to Raefe willingly.”

She shut her eyes and took a breath that shuddered. When she opened them again, her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I do.”

He had not thought she would lie to him. He released her hands. “No.”

“Yes!” Her cry came so loud she looked about in alarm. “I will marry Raefe. I care nothing for him, but I will one day be Queen of Darksea. Do you think I would give that up for you?”

He stared at her. Had he been blinded by love? What did he really know of this Elder Princess?

She tossed her head. “You must leave Cobbleford at once. I—I no longer wish you near me.”

****

Kai stopped polishing his boots and gave Elcon a long look. The Lof Shraen’s pinched expression made it clear he needed to keep his own counsel. Although Kai did not know for certain what had happened, he could guess Princess Aewen lay at the center of Elcon’s distraction.

Not so long ago, Kai had faced a similar dilemma over love and honor. He had chosen honor, as had Shae, but the integrity of their choice did not remove its pain. He wondered, not for the first time, if he would make the same choice again, knowing what it would cost him. Did Shae miss him as he did her? How long before he could hold her again?
A lifetime?

A tap at Elcon’s chamber door pulled Kai from his musings, and he admitted Craelin, who flashed a carefree smile. “Good morn. Do we depart for Norwood this day?”

Elcon scowled. “Not this day.”

Craelin’s smile faltered. “Perhaps on the morrow then?”

“I’ll decide the matter, Craelin.” Elcon turned away with a huffing sigh.

Craelin’s eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. “Well then… I’ll just check on the wingabeasts.” With that, he withdrew.

Silence reigned in Craelin’s absence. Kai finished with his boots and, setting aside his cleaning cloth, quirked a look at Elcon, who paced the room.

Elcon came to a standstill before him. “What would you do, Kai, if you loved a maid whose path was already set for her—someone who could not return your love without bringing dishonor to herself, to you, to her family, and even to her people and yours?”

“Ah.” Kai ignored the twist of sorrow Elcon’s words brought him. “You must find your own way in this, but forsaking honor does not nourish love. It brings destruction. Pure love refuses dishonor. I believe that with all my heart.” He swallowed and looked away.

“You speak with passion.”

“Even I know something of passion.”

****

“How come you to be so silent?” Aewen asked, although in truth she had spoken as rarely as her sister. She’d sought refuge in the simple rhythms of needlework, although she seemed to have made a mess of her pattern. Her memory strayed to place her in Elcon’s arms, and she stared unseeingly at the embroidery she held. She felt again his touch, his look, his kiss… The needle jabbed her finger. Pinching the wound, she watched as a drop of blood beaded against her skin.

“Now you’ve made me lose count!” Caerla raised puffy eyes from her own embroidery. Had she been crying? They sat in the queen’s parlor, a pleasant chamber in rich hues of red, purple and blue accented in white and gilt. No expense had been spared in outfitting the chamber, for Mother whiled away much time here and must be kept comfortable.

Aewen set aside her embroidery and put her hands in her lap. “Are you well?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Of course I’m well. Why would I not be well?” Caerla threw down her needlework and burst into tears.

Her sister’s tawny, frizzing head bobbed as she rocked in an excess of grief.

“You seem quite upset over losing count.”

Caerla gave something that closely resembled a snort. She glared at Aewen. “Go ahead. Make fun of me. I am, after all, only an unlovely second sister who will never marry. “She jumped up and might have fled the room had not Aewen risen also and put out a hand to stop her. “Wait.”

Caerla paused but did not turn.

Aewen let her hand fall from her sister’s sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’ve grown selfish of late. Tell me what troubles you.”

“Will the cause of my tears comfort me?”

As comprehension dawned, Aewen sucked in a breath. “You love Raefe.”

Caerla wrung her embroidery in her hands. “I didn’t mean it to happen. I only thought to entertain him, to make sure you didn’t drive him away with your coldness.”

Aewen had to do something to make matters right. Through the window she glimpsed a kitchen maid in the sunlit inner bailey. Shayla carried a basket toward the gatehouse. Alms for the poor. A sudden thought caught at her. “Does Raefe return your love?”

“He does not.” Caerla wept again, with gut-wrenching sobs. Aewen cradled her sister in her arms, her shoulder dampening with tears long before they eased. She wished she might comfort Caerla, but could offer no more hope than she found, which was none.

She put Caerla to bed and gave her a headache draught, glad when her sister slept. Tomorrow was soon enough to rediscover her sorrows.

With a sigh, she ran the back of her hand across her forehead. Life seemed dull and her every movement leaden. The thought of presenting herself to Raefe this night galled her.

Murial sat on a bench in her outer chamber. Her needle flashed as she drew it through a length of woven flax.

Aewen knelt and put her head in Murial’s lap.

Murial’s hand stroked Aewen’s hair. She crooned a question. “Flitling, what worries bring you to me?”

Tears pricked Aewen’s eyes, and her thickening throat choked off speech.

“Here now.” Murial lifted her head with gentle hands.

Aewen’s tears fell without restraint now, and she gave up trying to stop them.

Murial continued to stroke her hair while she wept. “What troubles you? Although I ken well enough, I think.”

Controlling herself with an effort, Aewen sat on the bench. Taking Murial’s rough brown hands, she kissed them and ventured a small smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Perhaps you would not marry amiss.”

Aewen opened her mouth to object, but Murial lifted a hand to stop her.

“When Queen Inydde first turned me out I should have gone. No protests now. Just listen. You must refuse to marry Prince Raefe, just as your heart tells you to do, and think no more of what will become of me. If you do not, you will spend the rest of your life in a prison of his making. I’ve seen enough of his ways to know what he’ll do as a husband.”

“But I can’t refuse to marry him now. The invitations have gone out and the preparations—”

“Bah!” Murial raised her hand in a claw and swept the air as if she battled invisible insects. “Don’t look to such things. And don’t concern yourself about me.” Her lips curved in a smile. “I can impose on my sister in Norwood, when all’s said and done, though being ornery she will of certain complain, and I’d miss you more than I can say.”

A small seed of hope stirred to life within her. It was madness to dream she and Elcon could ever marry, but at least she might not have to wed Raefe. She would never marry, just as she had wished from the beginning. The thought somehow did not bring her the peace it once had.