Mercy's Prince (42 page)

“Queen
Winifred has expressed a desire to meet you. I want to introduce you to her.”

“I
would be glad to meet the queen, Sire.” The queen, Valerian’s mother. Could
they be friends, as she and his father were already becoming?

King
Orland knocked on the queen’s door, and a young woman opened it. Her eyes
widened when she saw who stood there.

“Your
Majesty.” She made a graceful bow. Her dark hair was caught up in a jeweled
net.

“Lady
Brenna,” Orland said. “I wish to see the queen.”

“Of
course, Sire. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable. I will fetch Her
Majesty.” Brenna curtsied again and hurried through another door.

Merry
glanced around the room, noting the feminine furnishings. Did Valerian’s
parents live separately, then? Did they not have a happy marriage? Before she
and Orland could sit down, a stately woman entered the room. Her face was
familiar to Merry, though it was not possible they had ever met.

“Hello,
Winifred.” Orland’s smile was sorrowful.

“Good
morrow. What may I do for you?” Even the queen’s voice was elegant.

Orland
took Merry’s hand.

“Meet
my new ward and royal cousin, Lady Merry.”

“Oh?”
Winifred sounded surprised. “How did you discover she is a cousin?”

Orland
cleared his throat.

“Valerian
found her while he was in the Southern Woodlands.”

“What
I mean to say is can you prove her lineage?” The queen glanced at Merry and frowned.
“There have been so many pretenders.”

Merry
was taken aback. Valerian’s mother was definitely not as welcoming as his
father had been. How could she approach her?

Orland
huffed and balled his fists on his hips.

“I
have written proof from Eldred, if you would like to see it for yourself.”

Merry
smiled at Orland to reassure him. Then she gave her full attention to the queen.

“Your
Majesty, I am no pretender. I was content to live a simple life in the Village
of Peace. But after my village was massacred, Valerian found me. Then I met
Eldred, and we were able to determine that I am a direct descendant of King
Sigmund, who changed his name to Absalom and became the founder of the peaceful
Brethren. I must also tell you that your son has proposed marriage to me, and I
have accepted, and he and I can speak mind-to-mind, like the great dragons.”

Winifred’s
eyes grew larger at each of Merry’s statements. She reached back to grab the
arm of the nearest chair and lowered herself to it.

“That
is an extraordinary story, Lady Merry.”

Orland
took the chair beside his wife.

“This
is an extraordinary young woman, Winifred. She has the gift of Healing.”

The
queen stared at her until Merry grew uncomfortable. Merry wished she could read
her thoughts as Valerian could. At last, Winifred found her voice.

“You
wish to marry my son?”

“Oh,
yes, Your Majesty.” Merry caught herself before her enthusiasm ran away with
her.

But
Winifred must have seen what was in her heart.

“You
love him, do you?”

“With
all of my heart. He is a wonderful man. You must be very proud of him.”

“Proud
of him?” Valerian’s mother frowned again, which was not the reaction Merry
expected from her.

Orland
indicated a vacant chair to Merry.

“Pray,
Lady Merry, be seated and tell us what you’ve seen in the prince.”

Merry
sat facing Valerian’s parents, eager to enlighten them. She began with their
first meeting, how Valerian had been able to
See
her words, not just her
thoughts.

“He’s
a Seer?” Winifred cried.

“I
did not know myself,” Orland said with a shrug.

Merry
related their entire journey, how Valerian had cared for her, helped Ruddy with
his first court, saved her from the river dragon, shown decisive leadership
regarding their discovery of the Horde swarm. She explained about his dreams
and visions which he’d believed were the dragons communicating to his mind.

“I
might have believed them ordinary dreams, if I had not been awakened to my
gifts of Healing and speaking mind-to-mind with the prince.”

Valerian’s
parents sat, stunned, unable to speak for several minutes. Finally, the king
gazed at the queen with a sad smile.

“It
appears I have misjudged our youngest son.”

Winifred’s
eyes filled with tears.

“I
have been so blind,” she whispered.

“We
both have.” He held out his hand to her, palm up. She slowly placed her hand in
his, and he brought it to his lips.

Merry’s
heartbeat quickened. Something precious had begun, a restoration of love, and
she had been privileged to witness it.

The
king and queen turned their attention back to Merry. Her joy spilled over, and
she could no longer contain her smile. Orland offered her his other hand, which
she gratefully squeezed.

“Thank
you, Lady Merry. You are truly a gift from heaven.” He kissed her hand and
released it, looking once more at the queen. “I must leave you now, Winifred,
for I have another council meeting shortly. But, if you are willing, I would
like to renew our conversation later this evening.” His eyes were intent upon
his wife.

Winifred
smiled shyly, as if she were out of the habit of doing so.

“I
would like that very much.” Orland kissed her hand again, leaving the ladies to
themselves.

After
collecting herself, Valerian’s mother focused again on Merry.

“How
old are you, my dear?” Winifred straightened her skirts though she did not look
away from Merry’s face.

“I
will be fifteen after two new moons.”

“You
are wise beyond your years.”

“I
had to become a mother to my newborn brother when I was only ten. Our mother
died in childbed.” Merry swallowed to ease the sudden tightness in her throat.

“Then
I am sorry for you and for her.” A shadow darkened Winifred’s face. “I lost a
baby girl at birth and also her older sister.” She closed her eyes. “It appears
I have not coped with my grief as well as you have.”

“Perhaps
when I marry your son I might call you ‘mother,’ with your permission, of course.”
Merry spoke quietly, feeling shy.

“Why,
you will be my daughter-in-law, won’t you?” Winifred’s eyes softened, making
her appear younger and more beautiful. “I would like that.” She cleared her
throat. “I understand the king gave you my newest lady-in-waiting.”

“Gwendolyn?”
When she nodded, Merry smiled. “We get along very well. I hope it doesn’t
inconvenience you.”

“Heavens,
no. I have more attendants than I need.”

While
Winifred called one of her ladies to bring refreshments, Merry studied the sitting
room, cozy with a fire on the hearth. Embroidered cushions graced every seat. A
chair in the far corner of the room held a red pillow and coverlet with a
familiar design. Merry stood and walked closer. With a shaking hand, she picked
up the pillow. On it were embroidered morning glories, the exact color and
design as on Gabriel’s hair clasp. Gabriel, who would have been her husband.

“That
is my family’s emblem,” Winifred said.

“It’s
lovely.” Trembling, Merry turned to face her. “Did you have a large family,
Your Majesty?”

“I
had one elder brother, who inherited our father’s estate and is now Duke of
Frankland, one younger sister who died of a fever, and the youngest, who was a
boy.”

“Is
your younger brother still alive?” The pulse pounded in Merry’s head.

“I
don’t know, Lady Merry. He and Father had a terrible argument, and he ran away.”
She paused. “We never saw him again.”

Merry
walked back and knelt beside Winifred’s chair.

“Forgive
me, I did not mean to call unpleasant memories to your mind.”

“My
dear, except for that one argument, I have no unpleasant memories of my brother.
I only wish I knew what happened to him.”

Merry
stared into her eyes.

“I
think I know what happened to him.”

“How
could you have known my brother?” She frowned at Merry.

Merry
paused, choosing words she hoped would give the queen peace and not pain.

“About
ten years ago, a man came to our village. He was sick and had been badly hurt
by robbers. My father was the Healer and brought the stranger to our cottage to
better tend to his injuries.

“The
man stayed with us for many weeks, became part of our family. He learned about
the ways of the Brethren and chose to take the Oath of Peace. He put aside his
birth name and became known as Gabriel.”

“What
was his birth name?” Winifred whispered.

“I
was very young, but I still remember. His name was Denis.”

Winifred’s
eyes grew bright with tears.

“How
can you be sure he was my Denis?”

“I
watched him carve and paint a wooden clasp for his braid with the same emblem
of morning glories as on this pillow.” Her throat tightened, and she could not
continue.

Winifred
stared at the pillow in Merry’s hands.

“What
happened to him?”

“Gabriel
became zealous in his new life and was a natural leader. Everyone noticed it. When
my grandfather, who was the village leader, lay dying, he appointed Gabriel to
take his place.”

“And
Father thought he would never do anything worthy.” Winifred’s gaze unfocused.

“That’s
not all.” Merry paused. “Gabriel asked for my hand. I would have married him,
had he lived.”

Winifred
turned her attention back to Merry.

“How
did he die?”

Merry
breathed deeply to ease the tightness in her chest and focused on the flame of
a small candle.

“Gabriel,
along with everyone in my village, was massacred. Valerian believes it was the
Horde.” She swallowed and continued in a whisper. “I found Gabriel lying in the
grass with a terrible wound in his chest. He had a smile on his face.” She
glanced back at the queen. “Your brother had great faith in the Most High and
no fear of death.”

For
several minutes, Winifred remained silent, deep in thought. Then she placed her
hand on Merry’s arm.

“Did
you love him? Did you love my brother?”

Merry
vividly remembered those two last happy days she’d spent with Gabriel before
everything changed.

“I
did. He was easy to love. But I must be completely honest with you. I did not
love Gabriel as much as I love Valerian.”

A
tear spilled over Winifred’s cheek.

“Thank
you for telling me about Denis, or I should say, Gabriel.” She dabbed at her
cheek with the back of her hand. “I must beg you to leave me for a while, but
please come back tomorrow.”

“Of
course I will.” Merry stood and curtsied. Upon her return to Valerian’s old
rooms, she determined to bring Gabriel’s hair clasp, if not the whole braid, to
share with Queen Winifred.

***

In
the small hours of the night, Caelis made his way through the secret passageway
that led to Prince Valerian’s old bedchamber. He slipped through the hidden
panel in the wall and approached the canopied bed. With his eyes adjusted to
the darkness, the sliver of moonlight through the window was enough to ensure
that her maid was not in the room, though she was certainly in the next one.
Caelis silently found an opening in the bedcurtains. Lady Merry lay on her
side, clutching a pillow. How he wished he could take that pillow and snuff out
her life. But she was much more valuable to him alive.

Caelis
eased himself up on the bed and clamped one hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew
open, and she struggled against him. He leaned close and spoke to her ear.

“You
would be wise not to cross me again, my lady. I have something of great value
to you, and it would be a shame for it to be lost forever.”

She
stopped struggling and stared at him.

“I
have in my possession a young boy with blue eyes and long hair. If you promise
not to cry out, I will tell you more.”

Her
eyes widened and she nodded. He let go of her mouth.

“Rafael?
Where did you find him?” She had a desperate look on her face, and Caelis
smiled; this he could use.

“Come,
and I will show you.” Caelis slid off the bed, found a candle on the bedside
table and lit it. Then he pulled from his tunic the order written in Valerian’s
hand and opened it. When she climbed down, shivering in her white chemise, he
showed it to her. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

“I
cannot read.” She pushed back the heavy curtain of her unbound hair.

“Then I will read it to you. It says, ‘
I,
Valerian d’Alden, by the grace of God, Prince of Levathia, do decree that the
pacifists known as the Brethren, of the Village of Peace in the Southern
Woodlands, must forfeit their lives as set forth in the King’s Statutes for
Times of War because of their refusal to fight to protect the citizens of
Levathia against a hostile force invading from Mohorovia.
’  And it is
signed by Prince Valerian. This is his seal.”