Blind to Men (8 page)

"Wake up!"

The sharp order seemed to
come from the bottom of her brain. Although a misty coat prevented her from
moving her lids, she remembered they'd been cold at some point during the
night.

They had hastily pulled their
clothes on before falling asleep again in each other’s arms. She still felt
tired now. She wished the commanding voice would go away and let her sleep in
her protector’s embrace.

"Wake up!"

Sleep at last drifted
away while a natural instinct to obey seized her. When she sensed Kylor’s heat
abruptly leaving her, she opened her eyes to the sight of him, head bowed, fist
on his heart.

"Your Majesty."

King Harfayn stood by the
bed, brow furrowed, apparently displeased to have found them lying together. Daylight
had come, streams of sunshine pouring in the keep from the high windows.

No endless night, no
destroyed world. So much for the prediction, she thought with joy and
gratefulness to the creators. She'd never believed the mighty gods capable of
striking their own creatures.

In her heart, she had trusted
the wizard’s opinion on the prediction and hadn’t expected anything else. But
it was time to get up now. She flattened her dress and faced her scowling king.

"Good morning,
Father."

"Come with me, child."

She wasn't surprised to
see that, like the previous evening, his authoritative tone matched the
coldness in his eyes.

"Come, for this day
shall see your restoration."

Still uninformed about
her father’s intentions, she was reluctant to leave her guardian alone in the
keep.

"What about
Kylor?"

"He stays here for
now. But I shan’t take any action on that matter today, so you needn’t
worry."

She glanced at her
beloved. He looked at her with a light smile on his lips and a glitter in his
blue eyes.

"Go with our king,
my lady. Fulfill your destiny."

The vibrant kindness in
his tone caused her to bite back tears. Although she still felt like protesting,
she had no doubt that Kylor and King Harfayn were right. Today was summer
solstice and she had to confront the people of Palance in order to regain her
birthright.

"Very well."

The monarch strode to the
door, hardly waiting for his daughter to catch up. The guards locked the door
behind them and they went down the same winding steps she'd climbed the night
before. Apart from servants scurrying along the hallways, the castle was quiet
at this early time.

Having reached the main
floor, the sovereign of Palance took her straight to the west wing of the
fortress, into what appeared to be royal apartments. She glimpsed several big
rooms through open doors but they remained in the first one they entered.

She discovered large,
beautiful tapestries on the walls as she studied the place, an enormous
fireplace to keep the chill out, adorned furniture and, at the back of a smaller
chamber, a four poster bed surrounded by heavy curtains.

Observing her
surroundings, she marveled at the richness displayed in these rooms. They had
absolutely nothing in common with her small stark corner, back at the farm.

She touched an exquisite
figurine on the mantel of the fireplace with careful fingers, wishing her
mother was here to see such beauty. But she would probably refuse to set foot
in a sovereign's private domain.

"Your apartments are
certainly fit for a great king."

Her father already sat on
a plush armchair. His eyebrows quirked in surprise and he gestured for her to
sit down. Apparently, he had decided they were going to have a talk.

"We are in your
apartments, Anya, not mine."

She swallowed to keep her
mouth from hanging. Trying to mask her astonishment, she stayed silent.

"These chambers have
always been meant for my daughter, the princess of Palance."

Flabbergasted, she
realized her mistake. Although she believed him when he assured her that she
was his daughter, she hadn’t yet reflected on the consequences of her new position
in the city.

Because her mother had
been born a peasant, she, Anya, would never be more than a half-blood. One foot
in a castle, the other in a farm. Somehow, viewing herself as a direct
descendant of the great kings of old bordered on cheating. And that was when a
new consideration struck her.

Her father wanted
punishment by death for Kylor, yet he was forgetting that he committed
adultery. Even if he hadn’t deflowered her mother, he had been unfaithful to
his queen.

That distasteful and
unfair behavior certainly deserved punishment too. The monarch represented
integrity and equity, so how did he have the nerve to pass judgment on others
when he was a sinner himself?

What kind of justice did
he serve? Not much more than his own as far as she could see. Rebelled at the
notion, she jumped to her feet and pointed a righteous finger at her father.

"I can't believe
this. It's your intention to kill my protector for a fault that saved my life,
yet you—"

She took a deep breath to
dislodge the lump in her throat. Eyes brimming with zeal, she accused him.

"
You
sinned!"

The king's brow creased
with furrowed lines as he appeared to think hard on her statement.

"Anya, what are you
talking about?"

"I stand here today
because you mated with Mother. You were unfaithful to your queen."

First, he gaped at her.
Then he burst into laughter, hands on his stomach, shoulders trembling from the
force of his chortling. Standing proud before him, she suddenly felt foolish.

She hadn’t known this
severe man could smile, much less roar with laughter. But what was he so joyful
about? What had she said to ignite this impulsive hilarity? Flustered, she
tried to put a stop to his merriment.

"Are you making fun
of me, Father?"

"Nay."

He didn't manage to utter
anything else as his stocky body rattled along with peals of laughter.

"By the mighty gods,
I—"

He was obviously striving
to regain his formal composure, yet she had to wait until his mirth abated a
little.

"I have not laughed
so hard since I was a boy."

"I’m glad I could be
of service, Father."

Kylor often chuckled at
the innocence of her spontaneous comments, especially when she believed him to
be a woman. Yet he had never taken her for a fool, and she didn't mind
entertaining him. Not so with the king.

The man's hilarity grated
on her nerves. He claimed to be her father but he deliberately set to wound her
pride with his immature behavior. When his amusement receded, she twisted her
lips.

"And when you feel
up to it, you might be inclined to tell me what it is you find so funny."

"I have not sinned,
daughter."

He inhaled deeply while
dabbing the pads of his fingers around the corners of his eyes.

"Your mother
is
the
Queen of Palance."

What? Her mother was the
queen? The woman who had always worked in the fields, milked the cows and
chopped wood to keep them warm in winter? That was impossible. Queens simply
didn’t do that unless… Unless acting as a real farmer had been the only way to
ensure her daughter’s safety.

"This is
inconceivable."

She slumped back on the
armchair. Her father's hilarity flew out of her mind as she began muttering.

"I’ve always been
told about the queen and her Amazons. I figured she lived in Palance with you.
Why have I been lied to all my life?"

"You have not been
lied to, child, but the curse prevented you to hear such words as 'men' or
'king'."

He looked at her as
though she might break. Despite the carefulness with which he chose his words,
she refrained from shivering as he launched into the explanation she'd been
waiting for.

"Your mother wished
an ordinary childhood for you, without any disturbances from the outside world.
Keeping you alive and away from the witch’s clutches was a priority."

Melisande again, the
woman who had striven to ruin her life. When would that accursed sorceress
leave her be? There was no point in chewing over old matters best buried, and
her attention went back to her father as he added as an afterthought.

"If you wish so, I
can take you to the Amazons."

She wished, but not right
now. First, she needed to hear about the ruler of Palance and the extent of his
involvement.

"What about you,
Father? Didn’t you have a say?"

All traces of laughter
gone from his stern face, looking like his usual commanding self, the king
exhaled.

"I respected my
queen’s wishes. If she felt she had to disappear with you to keep you safe, so
it had to be. I wanted to visit you from time to time, but she forbade it, and
that is why we meet only today. I have ruled over my kingdom without her by my
side."

He seemed to falter as he
straightened up in his seat before wiping his brow with a sad gesture.

"I have not seen my
lady for eighteen springs."

Something in the tone of
his voice disconcerted her, implying she might have misjudged her father. She
thought him heartless, yet when talking about his queen, he sounded hurt and at
a loss.

"Have you missed
her?"

"Every day, but the
past must be forgotten. At midday, I shall formally introduce you to court and
present you to your subjects."

He ran a hand through his
grey, thinning hair, a new determination hardening his features.

"The curse is
broken. I want them all to see for themselves that the terrible prediction was
naught but the witch’s whims."

She hoped he'd be right.
Having known fear for the past few days, she didn’t want anybody to live that
way. She fervently wished the people of Palance would learn the truth and
obtain some measure of peace.

"Do you know where
the witch is?"

"Melisande failed in
her attempt to steal you from us, as Kylor no doubt informed you. She vanished
that very day. I hope she died, but in any case, she won’t dare show her face
today."

"If she’s alive, she
could still ask for a sacrifice."

The king shook his head,
his confident bearing and positive tone exuding certainty.

"Summer solstice is
upon us, yet the sun is bright and shining. My people already understand the
prediction was false. Such a request would be pointless as you’re no longer a
maiden. The witch has lost."

The conversation was
taking a different turn. Now that she saw her father in a new light, she decided
to use the moment to inquire about what was first and foremost in her mind.

"Father, are you
angry I was deflowered?"

"Aye,
Daughter."

His gaze reverted to
coldness. Though she feared another outburst of rage, he merely squared his
shoulders.

"But solely because
a dutiful father is always concerned about his children’s fate. I know it was
the only way to break the curse, but noble blood it should have been. Still,
none of what occurred is your fault."

His intentions remained
unclear in spite of his outward calm. She pressed her hands on the wooden arms
of the chair.

"Are you saying you
won’t pass sentence on my protector?"

"That, I am not saying."

Shifting from the
responsible father to the unchallenged monarch in the blink of an eye, King Harfayn's
tone could have cut ice.

"Though he isn't of
noble descend, I highly regard that young man. But he has broken a law and
will
be punished. Even if Kylor's act is praiseworthy, I cannot make an exception
for him."

"Why not? You can do
whatever you want."

He observed her with an unusual
expression that, in the name of the creators, she had no desire to identify.

 "You're so young,
Anya, so naive in your assessment of the world. You cannot pretend to
understand the intricate workings of being a ruler. In thirty years' time,
maybe you'll begin to realize I was acting for the good of my people and of my
territories. For now, suffice to say that if my queen was present, she would
agree with my decision."

How did he not see the
faithful and honorable man Kylor was? How could her begetter be so unfair? So
set in tradition as to become blind and deaf to common sense and justice?
Irritated by his unshakable stubbornness, she stood up briskly, her frustration
blatant.

"No, Father. When I
left for Palance, Mother told me to do whatever Kylor asked of me. She gave me
her blessing."

Heedless of his duties
and position in the Four Kingdoms, she braced herself and resumed her plea.

"I've heeded my
mother’s words and now you are telling me I shouldn’t have? No, Father, Kylor
hasn’t committed any offense or any crime. Whatever your judgment, I'll stand
by my protector and my queen."

Before King Harfayn could
react, she strode to the door and held it open to see him out. He got up
without another word. As he walked toward her, his formal tone rooted her to
the threshold.

"An official dress
will be brought to you before midday. Be in readiness when the time
comes."

She closed the door
behind him, heart beating fast, stomach knotted with an uneasy pressure at confronting
the king. Her father turned out to be a difficult man, by any means, but she'd
never cease fighting for her beliefs. After his departure, she ran to the
window.

From there, she could see
the main wing of the fortified stronghold. Servants were assembling a dais in
front of the entrance, probably for the king’s speech. Around the top of the
castle, she admired the battlement with merlons and crenels, the keep soaring
to the sky.

Kylor was locked up
there, alone. If she knew him at all, he was wondering about her and what the
future held for her. She opened the window and craned her neck to look at the
vast courtyard leading down to the gateway, flanked by strong towers on both
sides of a drawbridge.

Down below, past the gate
towers, she saw the inner and outer city of Palance. A powerful desire to walk
its streets swept her. She wanted to lay eyes on its houses and general architecture,
to touch its strong walls, speak to its people, and blend in its embrace.

Apart from riders and
eventual visitors, she guessed the castle courtyard wasn’t a usual place for
people to gather. This day was uncommon though, a symbol for the people, a
long-awaited summer solstice that might still lead her toward freedom or death.

Heralds marched the
streets all morning, escorted by men at arms and trumpets, loudly announcing a
royal proclamation at midday. Little by little, adults and children followed
them back to the castle, their growing numbers soon cramming the courtyard.

She didn't think the
place would be big enough to welcome them all. Although vast, it wasn't
structured to receive the whole city and the last dwellers had to stand on the
drawbridge.

They were well over two
thousand strong, give or take a few hundreds. Their chattering filled the air
with anticipation, their excitement rising as the sun reached its peak. She
closed the window when a servant brought her garment, yet she could still hear
them.

The dress belonged to the
marvels of the Four Kingdoms. Having never worn anything of the kind, she
donned it with reverence, the long beautiful fabric flowing smoothly around her
body. A maid brushed and pinned her hair in an elegant bun, leaving curly
strands around her face.

Observing her reflection
in the mirror, she wondered whether this pristine white gown was meant as a
reminder of her ingenuousness. She looked younger than her eighteen springs,
innocent and pure.

A knock on the door
shattered her musings, and she joined her father in the hallway. Dressed in
rich dark green, a long white cape thrown over his shoulders, a thick gold
necklace across his chest and a broad sword strapped to his side, King Harfayn
represented majesty.

Hard feelings or not, she
was going to accompany him in the best possible manner. She allowed him to
escort her to the main wing, her hand on his extended arm. Surrounded by a
dozen guards wearing ceremonial garb, King Harfayn and Princess Anya of Palance
made their entrance.