King (4 page)

“Jess, hold still.” Ela combed her baby brother's clean black curls, delighted by his shiny, perfect ringlets. Less pleased, the tiny boy stiffened, slid out of her lap, then crawled across the mat to Mother, who sat nearby munching on a crisp round of herbed bread.

Kalme Roeh wrinkled her delicate nose as Jess put a hand on her knee and offered her a three-toothed grin. Ela laughed while Mother cooed, “What do you want, young man? This bread is mine—the first thing I've eaten since dawn!”

Obviously certain of his welcome, Jess scooted into Mother's lap and stretched out one pudgy arm, reaching for the bread.

While her little brother was occupied, Ela gathered Jess's linens and cleansing oil. Before she could go rinse the linens, the front door opened. Father stomped inside, scowling.

Mother gasped. “Dan! Why are you home so early? Is everything all right?”

“I'm not sure.” Dan frowned at Ela. “Have you had a vision? Anything I should know?”

“No, Father.” Ela almost stammered beneath his ferocious stare. “Um, truly. Nothing's happened. We've had a good morning. Look . . .” She motioned to the branch, which rested in the corner as plain, unremarkable vinewood. “It's quiet, and I'm well. No headache, no revolutions, no poisonings—” Unlike yesterday.

“Then why have you and I been summoned to speak with the king?”

Ela blinked. “We have?”

“Yes!” Dan snapped. “Go put on your best clothes, and
hurry
. I must return to work.”

“The king?” Kalme gave the bread to Jess. “Ela, what have you done?”

Why did her parents always presume
she'd
caused disasters? “I've done nothing!”

Kalme and Dan stared at her, their eyebrows lifted in unison. Only Jess was perfectly content, gnawing his pilfered bread.

“All right.” Ela snatched up the branch and rushed to her sleeping chamber, praying as she opened her new clothing chest. “Infinite? Why should the king summon me, with Father—as if I'm a child, needing Father to vouch for me and approve my words?”

She waited.

But He didn't answer. And the vinewood remained bland, revealing nothing.

 4 

E
la lifted her chin and kept her eyes fixed on the corridor ahead as she and Father followed a royal servant to the king's audience chamber. Yet she couldn't help being aware of the courtiers on either side of her, clad in glittering, exquisite tunics and robes. Everyone eyed her. Some smiling, others not. All obviously curious.

Well, they weren't the only ones who were curious about her presence here—and particularly Father's. Infinite, won't You give me a hint?

The branch in her right hand remained cool and infuriatingly ordinary. It seemed she must be patient. She exhaled audibly. Dan gave her a searching look—as if he suspected she'd heard from the Infinite. Ela shook her head.

The servant led them into a quiet room with ornate walls, a large polished table, gilded chairs, and marble benches. A small crimson-clad figure dashed up to meet them. Ela recognized the little page. “Barth! How are you, sir?”

“Lady, I'm well.” The boy bowed, then gave her a mischievous gap-toothed grin. “But I'll never forget drinking that juice and having those blisters—they
hurt
! And my stomach burned till I thought I was dying! Oh, and thank you for the bread. Lord Faine and Master Croleut said you saved my life and I must thank you.” Before Ela could point out that the Infinite had
saved him, the little boy raised a hand as if remembering instructions. “Wait, please. I'll tell the king you're here!” He ran out, his garments awry.

Ela sat beside Father on a cushioned marble bench. Dan grunted. “Talkative scamp.”

“Very,” Ela agreed. “He's a clever student and his drawings are quite imaginative.” She shuddered, remembering his version of a scaln with overlong claws and fangs dripping venom.

The door opened. Ela stood in unison with her father as Akabe swept into the room, regal in his gold-pinned mantle and flowing robes. An energetic, handsome king, Ela decided. Unlike his apathetic, scrawny predecessor, Segere of Siphra. She practiced a ladylike bow. “Majesty.”

Akabe grinned, dimples accentuating his engaging smile. “Master Roeh. Prophet. Welcome and thank you for coming. I apologize for the short notice; however, I wanted to speak with you before I'm locked away for a few days in serious negotiations.”

Ela returned his smile. “I pray the negotiations proceed favorably, sir.”

“They must.” Akabe's smile changed to a rueful grimace. “The sale of the temple lands is now in question. We're trying to resolve the issue quickly.” Before she could question him—and wonder again why she'd heard nothing from the Infinite—Akabe motioned to their bench. “Please sit.” As they complied, he grabbed a gilded chair, placed it before them, and sat down. He studied Ela so intently that she blushed. “Prophet, thank you again for your quick action at the temple. I'm grateful. I hope most of Siphra is grateful as well.”

Unable to resist his appeal, Ela smiled. “Majesty, Siphra is blessed to have you as its king.”

Akabe gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Did Barth remember to thank you?”

“Yes, sir, he did.” Recalling the little boy's sweet face and bright eyes, Ela melted inwardly. “He's an exceptional child. He remembers everything he's seen and heard.”

“You sound pleased with him. I'm glad.” Akabe matched his fingertips together before speaking again. “I'm not one to waste my subjects' time, so I'll simply say . . . or ask . . .” He looked directly at Ela, his golden-brown eyes as serious as they'd been the instant she pronounced him king of Siphra. “There's no young lady I admire more in Siphra. You are respected, beautiful, and . . .” Akabe paused, seeming to gather courage. “I'm told I must be dutiful and marry. Ela—” He'd said her name as if he considered it among the loveliest of spoken words. “You surpass every lady in this palace and beyond. . . .”

No. Ela felt the blood draining from her face as Akabe voiced the question she feared. “Will you honor me by agreeing to become my wife?”

Father shifted, turning to stare at her. Ela met his gaze and saw his emotions: shock, giving way to elation. She could almost hear his thoughts. The king. A worthy suitor, able to handle—as Dan had phrased it—everything
she
would bring to the marriage.

Ela gripped the branch, wishing a transporting current from the Infinite would sweep her from this room and this decision. How could she refuse without offending Akabe and infuriating Father? “Sir, thank you, but I've no wish to marry. I—”

“Ela,” Dan warned softly.

Ela swallowed. Father wanted her to marry. He obviously wished to hand her over to the king this instant. And, legally, he could. Her heart hammered and her breath caught. How might she escape? Desperate, she looked Akabe in the eyes and whispered, “I love someone else! Kien Lantec. He's asked me twice. . . .”

Father gripped her wrist and made her look at him. “
What?
When?”

She hesitated, remembering. “Before Siphra's revolution. And after the fall of Parne.” The heat of a blush worked over her face. The last time she'd seen Kien, he'd kissed her and promised he would never give up asking her to marry him.

Father's color also heightened, but with obvious frustration. “And you
refused
him?”

“I felt I should.” Taking courage, she said, “I'd be a difficult wife—a burden.”

His voice low, Akabe said, “I disagree. It would be an honor to marry you, Ela. And if you had said the name of any other man, I'd argue with you. However, disappointed though I am, I could never speak a word against Kien Lantec.” He offered her a sad smile and clasped her free hand. “He counts himself as blessed, I'm sure.”

To Father, Akabe said, “Please do not be angry with her, sir, and do not believe that I am angry with either of you—I am not. I'll greet you both at the temple site.”

He left them quietly, through an amazingly concealed side door—its contours vanishing within the ornate wall carvings as he shut the door behind him.

Father glowered at Ela. “Because of your stubbornness, you've embarrassed that good man! I'm grateful he's kind. Any other king would have punished us, I'm sure!”

“I'm sorry.”

Dan hadn't mentioned his own mortification, but Ela saw it in his eyes. In the way he rubbed a hand over his face. Oh, she'd humiliated Father. Badly.

Ela longed to crawl away and hide. Finally, Dan straightened, seeming to brace himself. “Let's go. Chin up, Ela. We need to walk past all those courtiers again.”

She could not allow herself to cry. Would not. Akabe's look of hurt . . . Oh my.

Infinite, I wish I might have been warned. Kien . . . Ela ached to think of him.

Finished telling of his rejection, Akabe sat back in his chair and waited for his council members' reactions. Their shock manifested in widened eyes and gaping mouths. Lord Faine shook his head. “How could she refuse you?”

Trying to cover his disappointment with humor, Akabe said,
“I'm in excellent company. She refused Kien Lantec—Lord Aeyrievale.”

Lord Piton huffed, “Aeyrievale! We've seen no hint that she's communicated with him!”

“Really?” Akabe frowned at Piton. “My lord, how long have you been spying on the prophet?”

To his credit, Piton blushed. “Er, about three weeks, sir. A mere precaution. Nothing to discredit the young lady. We've decided to keep watch over all of Siphra's prophets—the Parnian and her lesser acolytes—scattered as they are while proclaiming the Infinite's will throughout Siphra. You know from experience what chaos one prophet can provoke.”

“Yes.” The most profound spiritual and political chaos. Not to mention personal misery.

He'd been refused. For the best of reasons, but still refused. Akabe planted his booted feet against the tiles. He would not resort to kicking something, but would deal with the humiliation and proceed. Straightening, he slapped his hands on the gleaming table. “What next, my lords? Have you created a list of potential prospects?”

Faine sighed. “No, sir. We were convinced the girl would accept you—and are shocked that she did not. I suppose that will be our next task.” He paused, clearly choosing his words with care. “Majesty . . . Siphra's highest-ranked families will hesitate to enter a contract with you due to bloodlines. We know nothing of your past, sir. Despite your position as king, matters would be helped tremendously if you would give details of your family's history.”

Lord Trillcliff added hurriedly, “Majesty, this is not to say we consider you unworthy. We do not. It is obvious you're educated and that you've the manners and deportment any nobleman would expect, but . . .”

“But what?” Akabe stared at each of his counselors in turn, making them shift and cough. “What's being said of me?”

“Well,” Piton affected a shrug. “It's being wagered that you're illegitimate.”

Illegitimate? Despite his shock, Akabe laughed. “My parents would be surprised, my lord. As would the priest who blessed their marriage.”

“Then, Majesty,” Faine pleaded, “who are you?”

Did he wish to reopen agonizing wounds? To provoke accusations that might shake his court and set Siphra's highest families against each other? Akabe shook his head. “I am the king. And I'm not illegitimate, though my parents are dead. Let it be enough. Have we received word from Thaenfall regarding the temple's lands?”

Piton cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Thaenfall is now traveling to Munra for our meetings.”

“Good. I want the land sale finalized. The workers are on site—I'd hate to send them away.” Ela's father among them. Akabe stood and sighed. Enough. He'd had enough for one day. “My lords, prepare your list of potential brides, and I'll consider it.”

Akabe marched from the room before his council could protest.

Until now he hadn't realized how much he'd depended upon Ela's acceptance of him as a husband. She'd appealed to him completely, and Akabe had allowed himself to contemplate sharing every aspect of his life with her. If only he'd known she loved Kien Lantec. Truly, Akabe couldn't fault her choice. Kien . . . Lord Aeyrievale . . . was descended from kings and had proven himself a true friend. Akabe only wished he could do more to defend him now in the Tracelands.

Had Siphra's formal plea been effective? When would Kien know the outcome of his trial? Akabe had heard nothing from him in weeks. Troubling, now that he considered the matter. Tonight, he must send a cipher to the Tracelands' General Rol through one of his household clerks, by way of courier bird. Surely a reply would arrive soon. “Be well, friend,” Akabe muttered. For Kien's sake, Akabe must abandon thoughts of Ela.

He would not risk their friendship over a misunderstanding, no matter how deep the hurt.

Doubtless the Infinite expected such goodwill of him in all similar matters.

To no one, he muttered, “A bit of divine guidance now and then would be helpful!”