The Rose Throne (12 page)

I
N EARLY WINTER
, Duke Kellin arrived home from his secret errand in the north and was closeted with the king for a full day. When the king returned to court again, he announced that the betrothal ceremony between Ailsbet and Lord Umber was to be postponed until spring, and he said nothing about the wedding itself. He did not say why, and though Ailsbet received many pitying glances, she felt relieved. Nor could she see that Lord Umber was concerned about the change. When she asked him, he told her that it was obvious to him that the king had his mind on other matters.

He meant her father’s new infatuation with Lady Pippa. King Haikor had fallen in love with a dozen different noble ladies in Ailsbet’s memory, always ending with a profusion of gifts and the king’s interest in a new lady. Her mother endured it because she had to, though this was one of the reasons she did not often come to court. Now Lady Pippa had taken the queen’s place at the king’s side while the court dined. While the queen must be content with ancient gowns from her early years as queen, Lady Pippa had new gowns of leather and velvet, with pearls or diamonds sewn on to the bodice. Her sleeves were sable and ermine, and her skirts were wide.

Ailsbet had never been close to Queen Aske, but she resented the way that her father had neglected her mother. The king ignored the queen even when they met in the corridors of the castle. He spoke rudely to her and returned unopened the notes she sent to him.

In particular, Ailsbet worried about Edik, who was learning all the wrong things from his father’s example. Though he was not unintelligent, he spent most of his time and energy in court considering how to eat or belch or fart more than the nobles who sat at the table with him. She had fond memories of Edik as a young boy, playing with his metal soldiers and
his stuffed animals on the fine Caracassan rugs on the floor of his chambers, but now she rarely had a chance to be alone with him, and they never spoke outside of court.

King Haikor seemed more prone than ever to fits of temper these days, and even his old friends were afraid of him. There were regular executions on the Tower Green, most by taweyr, of those who looked at him wrong, who spoke the wrong word to him, or who had land or titles he wished to give to Lady Pippa. Only Duke Kellin seemed above suspicion because of his canny ability to hold himself humbly, almost invisibly in the court. Whenever he did speak, he seemed to know just what to say to reassure the king. Ailsbet could not tell what this cost him, or if he was truly the sycophant that he seemed.

In addition to the problems inside the court, there were rumors of growing unrest among the peasants, who had suffered from a series of bad harvests. Some said that entire towns were empty of life in the north of the kingdom. Of course, food was still plentiful in the palace, but even the nobles were worried for those who remained at home on their estates.

Each time Lady Pippa appeared in court wearing a new bracelet, smoothing her hands over the
imported ribbons that flowed from her waist when she walked, Ailsbet cringed. She could not speak to the woman civilly. She could hardly even look at her.

Lord Umber found it all amusing. He joked that Lady Pippa would soon be forced to hire a litter to carry her about the palace, for she would not have the strength to hold up the weight of her jewels. Sometimes he would put his head to one side, in imitation of her. “King Haikor has given me another gift. Is it not lovely? Am I not the picture of womanliness?” he would ask in a strangled tone.

Ailsbet laughed, glad that Umber was there to keep her sane. But she discovered soon that he was not entirely to be counted on. One night, he was called to dance with Lady Pippa, because King Haikor was tired and wished to see others enjoying the sport when he could not. Lord Umber seemed to enjoy the dance immensely, laughing, whispering in her ear, gazing down her low-cut bodice.

Ailsbet had danced with him earlier in the evening, but being so close to him made her taweyr rise. She claimed exhaustion, but the truth was, she could not stop herself from wishing that there were true music for dancing that might calm her taweyr instead.

Afterward, Lord Umber returned to her side, out of breath and dripping with sweat. He nudged her when she turned away from him. “Come, now. Are you angry with me? The king commanded me to dance with her. You cannot think I prefer her company to yours? She is a half-wit, with only her face and figure to recommend her. But with you, I am never bored and do not have to retreat from your company to prevent myself from falling asleep standing up.”

It was not as convincing as Ailsbet wished. And her doubts continued to grow, day by day, although Lord Umber stayed at Ailsbet’s side in court until the king commanded him to dance with another woman. Often it was Lady Pippa, but not always. He seemed to enjoy them all equally, though he always returned to Ailsbet’s side.

“A man cannot help but be distracted by a pretty woman,” he explained. “But it is only a distraction. You are the honey that feeds my hive.” He made a buzzing sound and held out his finger as a stinger, circling Ailsbet’s neck until he touched her ear.

But Ailsbet noticed that he did not nuzzle her in private or try to kiss her. He enjoyed their conversation and he appreciated her wit, but sometimes
it seemed to her that he thought her another man and not a woman at all. She did not know what she should do to change this. She was afraid of what taweyr she might reveal if she became too intimate with him.

To celebrate the coming of winter, King Haikor invited entertainers to court. There were fireworks, which King Haikor said were to repay all the people of Rurik who paid taxes to the crown.

Ailsbet thought wryly that only those who lived very near the palace could enjoy the fireworks, which could not be seen more than a few miles away. She sat at Lord Umber’s right hand as the entertainers set up elaborate scenery with painted trees and streams and animals, dressed in costumes in the black and red of Rurik and the yellow of Aristonne, and used taweyr to enact mock battles. One of them was a reenactment of her father’s battle with Prince Albert of Aristonne himself.

“I do not believe that I have ever heard Prince Albert was quite so small as that,” Lord Umber said, leaning over and whispering into Ailsbet’s ear.

The actor playing Prince Albert was not full grown, but a boy of perhaps ten or eleven years of age, younger than Prince Edik. He was dressed in
a yellow nightgown rather than the uniform of the other Aristonnian soldiers. He could hardly hold a sword and when struck, he cried out in a high-pitched voice that made the king and the court roar with laughter.

“It makes it considerably less of a tale that my father defeated him so easily, does it not?” said Ailsbet.

“Next he will be a babe in arms, and your father has only to hold his hand over his mouth for him to choke to death.”

“And my father will howl with pleasure because he takes delight in killing anyone who opposes him, no matter how defenseless,” said Ailsbet. She did not at first realize how bitter she sounded.

Umber eyed her carefully. “There is the truth from you again,” he said, shaking a finger. “I thought you said you had no taste for it? I am afraid that I am a bad influence on you. Soon you will tell your father that your lack of neweyr is his own fault.”

Ailsbet held herself very still.

“Ah, I see I am right,” said Umber. “You think that if he allowed neweyr in his court, you would have found it. And now it is too late. You blame him, do you not?”

Ailsbet let out a breath of relief, then nodded
vigorously. “You know me too well, Lord Umber,” she said. “Entirely too well.”

That night, after the fireworks, the entertainers turned bawdy indeed. Now the actors who played women wore huge gowns, with false glass jewels in their hair and pasted onto their skirts. The men wore padded shoulders and fake red wigs to imitate the king, as he was twenty years earlier. Ailsbet tried to leave several times, but her father would not let her, and Lord Umber coaxed her into smiling at his jokes.

When the king stood up, hours later, staggering in a drunken stupor, Ailsbet thought that he was ready at last for bed, and that she could leave and return to her own chambers. But it was not to be so. He began to raise his glass and tell jokes about each member of the court, drinking heartily after each and watching to see that all joined with him. Ailsbet pressed a glass to her lips but drank as little as she could.

At last, the king turned to Ailsbet and raised his rose-crystal goblet. “To my daughter, the ugliest woman yet born and the sharpest-tongued. She is so fearsome that even the women’s magic does not dare to enter her. May she forever frighten men in my court into worrying that I might marry her to one of them.”

The king lifted his goblet, and the rest of the court did the same.

But Ailsbet threw her goblet to the marble floor, where it shattered. She could feel the heat in her face. She felt a terrible temptation to show her father what sort of woman she was, and what she had in place of neweyr. She could throw him off his feet, perhaps knock him unconscious. And when he woke, what then? He would send her to the Tower, for being ekhono and for being a traitor.

But then Lord Umber threw his goblet down, as well. Not only did the glass shatter, but the red wine splattered onto the king’s face.

King Haikor spluttered for a moment, until a servant discreetly offered him a cloth.

Ailsbet was holding her breath. She had not meant to put Lord Umber in danger. “Please,” she said to him. “Do not throw yourself into the fire for my sake.”

“Ah, but if you are in the fire, where else would I wish to be? You will make me laugh as I roast,” said Lord Umber. “At the smell of my own cooking juices, no doubt.”

It was crass, but it was exactly what Ailsbet needed to hear. The taweyr inside her damped down as she laughed, as well as if she had her flute.

She turned to see what her father’s punishment would be, but the king seemed amused. It worried her. Why was he not angry?

“A brave man,” he said, and raised his glass again. The court drank with him, and Ailsbet was left to stare at Lord Umber and wonder what it all meant.

A
WEEK LATER
, Lord Umber came to Ailsbet’s own chamber after dinner, something he had never done before. She invited him in, though she had no seat to offer him. Her own chambers were not meant for company. She had never had to worry about it much before.

Ailsbet turned her back to him, unsure of what to say, and stared out her small window overlooking the inner courtyard, watching the rise of the gibbous moon over the city. Her taweyr had been particularly difficult that day, and she had had to focus on controlling it while showing no sign of the strain. She
wished she had more time to play her flute, for that seemed to help. But she was so often required to be at court all day and into the night.

“You are annoyed with me,” said Lord Umber, looking uncomfortable. “Tell me why, and I can beg your forgiveness.”

“No, it is not you. You have done nothing wrong,” said Ailsbet.

Lord Umber sighed. “I do not believe it. There is something troubling you. Is it your flute? Did I interrupt you? Have you been wishing to play your instrument more?”

She did want to play it, but she was too tired now, and it would only make her more frustrated that she could not do it properly. She moved to the side, inviting Lord Umber to gaze out the window with her. “I am only looking out at the city,” she said. “And thinking how wonderful it is.”

“It is the essence of Rurik itself,” said Umber.

“Is it so different than Weirland, then?” asked Ailsbet.

“Very different,” said Lord Umber. “There is nowhere in the north that has so many people living together like this. I daresay there are more people in this city than in all of Weirland put together. More taweyr here, as well. Which is why I came here, with
the hope of what I can become here in Rurik, which I could not become in Weirland.”

“And is there any beauty in Rurik for you?” she asked.

“Beauty?” Umber said. “The city is very colorful, very busy,” he said.

Ailsbet smiled. “Like the court.”

“Yes,” said Umber. There was a pause. “Perhaps you wish to be alone. I shall be off, then. I shall speak to you some other time,” he said.

“Wait,” said Ailsbet. “I am sure you came for a reason. Tell me what it is.”

“You command me now? Your voice is very like your father’s,” said Lord Umber.

“You said that you wanted truth from me. But you do not offer it in return?”

He stared at her for a moment. “Very well, then. I came to ask you about Lady Pippa,” he said at last.

“What of her?” said Ailsbet.

“She seems entirely foolish and vacuous. I wondered if you had any experience with her to hint at something more than that.”

“No,” said Ailsbet. “She is of a good family.”