Sorrows of Adoration (39 page)

“I might have been
convinced to show you mercy had you simply ordered the Princess be
taken away, or had she not been with child at the time, or had you
redeemed yourself by admitting to us what you had done, that we
might have found her sooner. But you acted with cold, cruel intent.
I have no doubt that if I spare you now, your madness will lead you
to make another attempt on the Princess’s life. In the interest of
the safety of the royal family and because you showed no mercy
yourself, I deny your request. You shall be hanged as I
decreed.”

She screamed as the
guards lifted her away. Kasha stared at me with a look of death
wish in her eye, and it chilled me. The King had waived off her
testimony as insubstantial, which I knew she would consider a
personal slight with me at fault. The crowd rose to disperse as the
King retired to his workroom.

Lord Cael approached
and said, “Your Highness, I was so relieved to hear that you had
returned alive and bearing your child in your arms, no less.”

“Thank you,” I said.
“And thank you for what you have done here today. It can’t have
been easy.”

“Good lady, it was my
honour to serve you. I wish only I had been able to do more. I
understand why you were reluctant to seek my help in Staelorn,
though I regret that you did not know help awaited you there.”

“I knew you would have
helped me without a second thought, Lord Cael. It was everyone else
in Staelorn that I feared. I am sorry I did not come to you.”

He nodded in
understanding, spoke briefly to Kurit, and took his leave.

“Please help me
upstairs,” I said to Jarik and Kurit. “I am very upset and wish to
be out of the public view.” They each took an arm and supported me
all the way to my chambers, where I started immediately to weep.
Jarik turned me into Kurit’s waiting arms.

“Hush, Aenna—why do you
weep? Sashken is being punished as she deserves.”

“I know,” I said, “and
I am glad your father did not spare her. I could not suffer her the
chance to strike at my son in the future. But I have caused the
deaths of two people in this unpleasant event, and though both
deaths may be excusable or just, I cannot help but feel badly.”

I felt Jarik put a
comforting hand on my back as I wept in Kurit’s embrace. “You know
these things are not your fault, Aenna,” Jarik said. “True justice
would see the men who abducted you and those who sold you pay the
same penalty. You are a good woman for mourning those who have
caused you harm.”

“I don’t mourn them. I
wish only that none of it was necessary.”

I did not go to witness
Sashken’s hanging. It was bad enough I kept seeing the blue face of
the man that I had killed in my nightmares; I certainly did not
need to add the image of a woman being hanged. Kurit went to
witness it while Jarik stayed with me in my chambers. When Kurit
returned, he said simply, “It is done,” and then poured himself a
drink.

* * *

In the days that
followed, I noticed Kurit had developed a habit for the drink and
seemed to require several before retiring for the night. At first I
suspected it was a temporary way of dealing with the great stress
of the trial, for which he was still furious with his mother. Soon,
though, it became clear that he was becoming dependent upon it. I
decided to speak with him about it before the problem got out of
hand.

I entered his chambers
one morning to find him already pouring from the decanter on his
mantle.

“Is that not a bit
early, Kurit?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, this?” he
said, looking at the drink in his hand. “It’s just a little bit,
Aenna. It’s nothing.”

“Is it also nothing
that you drink every night before bed? I smell it on you when you
come to my bed to hold me.”

“Oh, Aenna, really,
it’s not every night. Sometimes I’m still a little wound up over
everything, and it helps me sleep. I was drunk a good deal of the
time you were away, you know. Really drunk, because it was the only
way I could pass out and not have to feel so wretchedly miserable.
But since you’ve returned to me, I have stopped that. Honestly,
Aenna,” he said with a slightly nervous laugh, “you make it sound
as though I couldn’t stop.”

“So stop then. I don’t
want you to get in the habit of needing it every night.” I tried to
sound concerned and not as though I was nagging.

He gulped down the
remainder of the liquor in his glass and set it aside. He walked to
where I stood and embraced me. “Don’t fret, my good wife. I just
need a little more time to put it all behind me.”

We sat down beside one
another. He smiled—looking as though he were trying to produce his
old carefree, roguish smile—but it was clearly forced. He was
trying to appear stalwart for my benefit, but I was not so blind
that I could not see that he still suffered from guilt over my
abduction.

“Kurit, I love you. It
hurts me to know you still ache inside with remorse. I see through
your smile. I see how you drink to dull your pain. You have to get
over this.”

He looked at the floor,
the fake smile gone. “How do I do that, Aenna? How do I tell my own
heart to stop feeling the pain of almost losing you yet again? How
do I convince my mind that there was nothing I could have done to
spare you that ordeal? A man should be able to protect his
wife.”

“Brooding over it now
does not help me. It makes me suffer with you. Instead of feeling
guilt for not being able to protect me or rescue me, why can’t you
just be pleased and proud that I was able to rescue myself?”

He rose and bade me to
do so as well. Then he embraced me tightly, sighing and kissing my
head as he held it in his hands. “I am proud of your strength. I
always have been. And believe me, the fact that you are here safe
with me is much more important than how you arrived. But I can’t
help wishing I had been man enough to have the strength to seek you
instead of mourning you. Even if I hadn’t found you, I should have
been looking instead of crying like a child. I am not a man, Aenna.
I’m a stupid boy, and what little courage I struggle to demonstrate
is less than a thousandth of what comes to you naturally. That is
hard to reconcile.”

“Kurit,” I said,
pulling back to look at him and forcing his eyes to stay with mine.
“You are a man! You mustn’t keep questioning your masculinity this
way. My strength as a woman does not negate your worth or strength
as a man. These things should be complementary to unite us, not
something to set us apart.”

I decided perhaps the
time had come to remind him of his masculinity by enticing him to
make love with me. I kissed him softly, brushing my tongue against
his lips in the fashion that used to make him moan in delight. He
returned the kiss kindly, but without arousal of any observable
sort.

“Aenna,” he said softly
after the kiss, “I know what you’re trying to do, and I love you
for it. Your words make logical sense, but logic has little effect
on emotion. Please understand that this is no fault of yours, but I
still feel … emasculated. I need time. I’m sorry. I shall try
to be less melancholy, but I feel too undeserving of your passion
to be aroused right now. Forgive me. It’s not that I love you less
or desire you less. If anything, those feelings are stronger than
ever before for the threat of almost having lost you again.”

He kissed me gently on
my lips and then on my forehead. “I love you so much, my Aenna,” he
whispered, holding me so tightly that I could feel his pounding
heartbeat against my shoulder. “I love you more than anything, and
I need you much more than any man ought to ever need anyone.
Please, just give me more time to put my mind back together. I
shall be fine in time. And I shall quit the drink before bed, and
in the morning as well. You’re right about that. You’re right about
everything, actually, but at least that much I can accomplish for
you right away.”

His acute heartache was
infectious, and I wanted to weep in his arms. I forced myself not
to, though, fearful that it would only add to his burden. Instead,
I made myself smile and asked, “Will you come and walk with me in
the gardens? I shall bring our son, and we can take turns holding
him as we walk. It’s a lovely day out, and I truly think that the
sun and fresh air would do you good.”

He nodded sadly, and we
went to fetch Raelik from his nursery.

OVER THE NEXT week,
Kurit seemed less distant and more in control of his faculties.
Other than wine with dinner, I did not see him take any liquor. I
was somewhat suspicious when he stopped coming to my bed to hold me
every night, but on the two occasions that he did, I smelled not
the slightest hint of alcohol on his breath. If he slept poorly for
it, I did not notice.

Then one evening
shortly before bed, there came a soft knock at my door. It was
Gilrin, and he looked worried. I panicked, thinking immediately
that something awful had happened to Kurit.

“What is it?” I asked
quickly.

“Your Highness, I come
to speak to you though I fear I betray my Prince in doing so,” he
whispered. “I have but a short time, for I told him I was running a
brief errand.”

“Then quickly, what is
it you have to tell me?”

“His Highness has taken
to hiding small flasks of alcohol throughout his rooms. The maids
find them in his clothing and between his mattresses. I have seen
him myself slipping them behind books on his shelves. He drinks
constantly, Your Highness, and then washes his mouth or eats
odoriferous foods immediately thereafter, repeating this all day
long. He was drunk when you were gone, but that was understandable,
and he was so drunk that all he did was sleep. Now he spends his
time just on the edge of drunkenness—taking just enough that his
emotions are drowned but he can still manage to function.

“I would not even
betray him by telling you this but for my concern that he will
injure himself. By evenings, he has reached a state where he can
almost always walk and move well but will occasionally stumble. I
fear he will take a spill down the stairs or otherwise harm
himself. Last night he went walking around the castle walls. Though
it is quite safe to do so normally, I am greatly worried that his
semi-drunken state might cause him to lean over the edge and fall,
likely to his death.”

I was
stunned.
How
could I be so unaware that things were this bad?

I could not let the
poor manservant see me panic. I schooled my expression and said,
“Gilrin, thank you for telling me this. I won’t tell Kurit that I
found this out through you, so don’t worry about his retribution.
And you have not betrayed him in this. As you have said yourself,
there is a concern for his well-being. You have done him a good
service in bringing this to my attention, and I thank you again.
Now go, before he notices you have been gone too long.”

Gilrin nodded and left
quickly.

I could not imagine
what to do next. Kurit was clearly already caught in an addiction
that neither promises nor words of reason could defy. The next day,
I suggested to him that we take our little son to the royal cottage
for a few weeks. I knew that going there would allow me to be with
him almost all day and night, and since we would share a room, he
would be unable to hide a secret supply from which to sip when my
back was turned. I thought perhaps if he went without the alcohol
for a week or so, he would realize that he had a serious problem
and be better able to cut himself off.

When I approached him
with the notion of taking some time away, he had a thousand
excuses. His father’s health was beginning to fail more often,
leaving Kurit with more administrative responsibilities. It was too
early in the season, he said, and would thus be too muddy. It would
be too much of a hassle to take such a small infant out there. On
it went—no matter how many solutions I provided, there was always
another reason. Clearly, he knew he would be unable to maintain his
lightly drunken state, and I suspected the idea frightened him.

He stopped holding me
at night altogether, which upset me further. I didn’t know if he
did so because he knew I would discover his drinking, or if he
still felt that sense of emasculation. Either way, he began
avoiding me, and my heart ached for his suffering and my inability
to do something about it.

To add to my
frustration, I had to deal also with the fact that Jarik had taken
to shadowing my every movement all day and then standing guard
outside my door at night. I discovered the latter when I was unable
to sleep and would creep to the nursery to check on Raelik. There
Jarik would be standing, brooding in his unnecessary guilt. I told
him every time to go to bed, and he would nod at me in
acknowledgment that he had heard, but then when I would leave the
nursery, he would still be there. I could not imagine when he was
finding time to sleep, for when I would leave my rooms in the
morning he would still be there. The only times he was absent was
when I was with Kurit, and those times were becoming fewer and
fewer.

Oh, how these men and
their wretched guilt and fragile sensibilities irritated me! It was
almost as if they had rather I had awaited their rescue in Wusul or
parked myself under a tree in Taeten until one of them happened by.
I was sympathetic to their concern at first, but as the days and
nights passed and there was no cessation to their brooding, I began
to feel anger and resentment that they could not see me as an
independent, living being instead of their precious jewel to
protect.

One night I found
myself unable to sleep as these notions remained in my mind. I rose
and went to the outer door where, sure enough, Jarik stood, leaning
a shoulder against the wall. His face was lined with weariness,
though his eyes were alert.