Sorrows of Adoration Page 10

  Chapter 6

  I HAD EXPECTED THE first days in Mikilrun to be the most difficult, but there was sufficient daily change and adaptation that the hours flew by. Kurit remained in the back shadows of my mind as I began my new life.

  As I settled into a routine, however, my mind state changed. Kurit invaded my thoughts more and more every day, and I grew increasingly despondent with the fear that I might not ever be able to truly move on with my life.

  I worked harder, very much impressing Deggle with my diligence, all in an effort to crowd my mind with anything other than Kurit’s face, his eyes, his words, his kisses. Oh, his kisses! When my poor head did bring back those particular memories, my belly fluttered and my knees grew weak. Then the agony of missing him would hit with its fullest force such that my chest and head would ache. There were times when I was alone—in bed or somewhere on a solitary chore—when I would quietly weep. On three separate occasions I whispered his name and sobbed.

  Yet even as four months crawled by and spring threatened to banish the snow from the landscapes of Mikilrun, the pain did not fade. I remained as polite and friendly to the customers and other staff as was necessary, but every day it became more of an act as I withdrew further into depression.

  I tried to convince myself that he must have forgotten about his affections for me, and perhaps had even mocked me and deemed himself quite silly to have ever desired me. I thought believing such things might make me stronger and better able to move on without him, but instead the thoughts haunted me and made my despair that much worse. I battled thoughts of returning by believing such terrible things, but again the notion that my beloved Kurit could be so callous only increased my pain.

  So I worked on in a vague trance of despair, dragging time listlessly behind me. Then, early one afternoon I was washing the tables clean after lunch—a busy time, as local merchants frequented the pub of the inn almost daily for their midday meal—when I heard a voice behind me say, “You didn’t even see me before you left.”

  I turned, my rag and bucket of water in my hands. There he stood. For a moment, I thought myself to be dreaming, as I often had. But Kurit truly was before me, and in shock I dropped the rag and bucket. They splashed to the ground, covering both of our feet in dirty water.

  Deggle witnessed the scene and came rushing out from behind the bar. Recognizing Kurit, no doubt by the fact that the Prince wore a royal blue tunic and cloak, both embroidered with his crest, the innkeeper scolded me and apologized to Kurit for his sloppy barmaid.

  Kurit waved him off without looking away from my eyes. “It is my fault. I startled her. And she is more than your barmaid. She is the lady I love.”

  “No,” I said, hating myself for being able to say it so easily. “No, Kurit, go. Forget you saw me. Go back to your palace.” I was aware that my casual used of his name and my blunt directives were unbecoming to my station. I hoped my emphatic unseemliness would give him further cause to leave.

  “I cannot do that, Aenna,” he said, dismissing my words in an instant. “Not without you by my side.”

  I stood my ground. I was not about to let my emotions rule as they had before. “No. I don’t belong there. You deserve better. There are many eligible noblewomen in Endren. Forget me and seek one of them instead.”

  “Those selfish, arrogant, scrawny little gadflies?” He sneered at the thought. “They could never catch my eye after I have known someone as brave and generous as yourself.”

  “I cannot be what you need. You must adhere to your duty and marry a noblewoman, not squander your love on an uneducated, unqualified peasant.” That’s it, I told myself. Concentrate on the duty part of it. At all costs I had to keep the issue of affection out of play, for there I could not fight him for long, and I knew it.

  “You can have whatever education you require. I remember how we spoke during those first days, how I explained complicated concepts of politics and economics and the like to you and asked your opinion. Without fail you impressed me with how eager you were to learn, how quickly you took hold of the new information and were able to form competent opinions, right on the spot. You’re clearly intelligent enough to learn whatever you need to.”

  “Even so, I would never be respected as your wife ought to be. I would not be accepted, no matter if I became the foremost expert on any topic.”

  He stepped forward to touch my arm, but I stepped back to prevent it. If he touched me, my resolve would crumble. “Anyone who takes issue with you will have to deal with me, Aenna. I won’t stand to hear you belittled.”

  “That’s no way to run a kingdom,” I said, breaking his gaze by bending to the floor to gather the rag and bucket. “You can’t annoy everybody who matters and then demand that they accept it.” I rose with the rag and bucket and turned to set them aside. In doing so, I noticed Jarik was with Kurit, standing in the background, watching. I also noticed that the entire staff of the inn was gathered at the bar and door to the kitchen, spectators to the event, with the few customers left from lunch also in the audience. They must have thought me mad. I knew better.

  And then he played his gambit, hitting the one weak spot I could not dodge with remarks of duty or questions of my worth. “Do you love me?” he asked, and I was glad my back was to him, that he could not see my pained reaction. “Because if you are sending me on my way on account of a lack of love for me, well then, as much as that would sadden me, I shall accept it. I don’t wish to pressure you into being with me if it’s not what you truly want. So, lovely Aenna of Alesha, if you can honestly tell me that you do not love me, I shall take my leave.”

  I breathed deeply to prevent myself from displaying emotion. I gathered in my mind every reason I had for leaving him in the first place and used them to push aside my true feelings. I told myself that if I did love him, I had to do right by him, and that meant convincing him to leave me behind. And so I managed to say it, tripping over the words only once: “I do not … I don’t love you.”

  Then he was behind me, hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him. I closed my eyes before I could see him.

  “Say it again. Say it while you look at me. Look at me, Aenna.”

  “Stop,” I said, a hint of a quaver to my voice. I kept my eyes closed tightly. Crying could not be tolerated. If I cried, there would be no hope of making him leave.

  “No,” he said harshly; I couldn’t tell whether from anger or frustration. “Tell me again. If you can look me in my eyes and tell me that you don’t love me, I shall leave and never disturb you again. But if you cannot, if there is enough love in your heart to prevent you from saying it, then I shall not rest until I’ve convinced you to come home with me.”

  Angry, I told myself, be angry at him. Be furious at him. I won’t cry if I’m furious. I won’t break if I’m furious. Be enraged that he does not listen, that he has come all this way for a foolish infatuation that must not be allowed to continue.

  The anger rose in me, and I took strength from it. But then I made the mistake of opening my eyes to see his earnest and pained expression, and that strength dissipated in an instant.

  Quickly I turned my head away. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Kurit, let go of me.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Go, Kurit. Please.”

  “Do you love me?” he repeated again, always in the same blunt manner, driving me insane.

  “Stop this madness and go, please, just go.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yes,” I finally said, broken by his insistence and his touch. I looked at him and sighed. “But what of it? It doesn’t matter in the end.”

  “It is all that matters,” he said softly. His hands slid down my arms to my hands, which he lifted and kissed. “Be with me, Aenna. You said you’d marry me before. Say again that you’ll still be my bride.”

  I pulled my hands hurriedly from his grasp. “I cannot. It would be wrong. If I marry you, I a
m doomed to fail your lofty expectations, and then you shall resent me for it. You’ll regret your choice, and as our marriage fails so too will your governance, and I will not be responsible for that sort of detriment to Keshaerlan!”

  “Who filled your head with such nonsense?” he asked, and then his expression was one of sarcastic illumination. “Oh, how could I even ask? My wretched mother got to you, didn’t she? She drove you away, filling your mind with her insanity and prejudice!”

  “You speak treason against the Queen!” I exclaimed, aghast that he would denounce his mother so in public.

  “No, I speak the truth, don’t I?” he asked, clearly incensed. “I know she spoke to you right before you ran off. What did she tell you? That you’re not worthy? Pah! She thinks that about everyone but her pet Sashken! Did she say our marriage would tear apart the nation? Again, pah! She uses that ridiculous threat every time I do something she doesn’t like. Did she insult you, scoff at you, berate you? Well then, she spoke treason against the future Queen!”

  “I’m not fit to be a Queen!” I exclaimed in return and then threw my hands in the air in frustration. I clenched my fists and brought them down hard onto a table, making a terrible racket. “Curse it all, Kurit, if you weren’t the Prince and the sole heir to the throne, then there’d be no issue, but you are and there is!”

  He came behind me again, seeking to embrace me. “If that’s what it takes to win your heart, Aenna, I’ll renounce the throne. I’ll do it.”

  I wrestled away from him, no longer having to feign fury to inspire myself to send him away. “Absolutely not!” I shouted. “You have a duty, Kurit. You have benefited from a life of wealth and status, and your payment in return for that good life is to accept your duty and birthright. I will not—hear me, Kurit!—I will not be the one known to history as starting a war for the throne amongst the noble families by seducing the only child of the King into abdication!” My face felt hot as my blood boiled at his appalling offer.

  We stood, staring at each other in exasperation and heartache, silently waiting for the other to say something. Instead, Jarik came to my side and quietly—at least it seemed quiet compared to the shouting—said, “You have just proven yourself worthy, Aenna. In front of everyone here you have espoused duty over your own happiness. I can’t imagine a more fitting quality for a Queen.”

  Kurit latched onto Jarik’s idea. “Yes, Aenna, you speak of duty. You have an opportunity to bring your unique wisdom, untainted by the frivolities of court or prejudices of class, to the throne. There is much that you can teach me of how most Keshaerlans live. You will be a remarkable Queen, loved by the people because you are one of them. You have admitted your love for me. Without you, my life would be empty and without inspiration. I will be a better King if you are by my side. If you are so concerned with duty, then ask yourself if you do not have a duty to your own feelings, to the one who loves you above all else, and to the lives that you could touch with your wisdom.

  “I would not ask this if you didn’t love me. I would never ask you to do anything out of duty alone.”

  I weighed his logic against that of his mother and could not choose the winner. It all depended on whether or not I could live up to his expectations. If by some miracle I could, then he would be right, and I could surely support him in all things and perhaps inspire him to greater rule. If I could not do what he thought I could, then the other predictions would come true, and I would be responsible for great tragedy.

  And there in the middle of the logic and the weighed consequence was the simple fact that I loved him more dearly than I ever imagined possible.

  Jarik gently took my hand in his. I looked at him, and his kind smile warmed my heart. “Aenna, truly you are a good lady. In the end, that is all that matters,” he said. The big man guided my hand into Kurit’s and let it go.

  I turned my eyes to Kurit and saw that he beheld me with tender affection. Wretched tears spilled from my eyes as a result, signalling to me that I had lost my battle. He pulled me close, embracing me, and I no longer had the will to push him away. He kissed my forehead, and when I looked up at him he kissed my mouth sweetly.

  When he ended the kiss and looked into my eyes again, he said, “I can only bear to ask it once more. Will you marry me?”

  I broke his gaze, searching for the strength to do what was right, but could no longer ascertain what that was. I looked around the room. Jarik watched, expressionless. The other inn staff stood wide-eyed and gaping, like fishes out of water—an image that would have made me laugh uproariously any other day. A customer in the corner caught my eye because he looked oddly tense in anticipation of my answer.

  I looked back at Kurit. He, too, was tense in anticipation, and I could see that he was trying to ready himself for another rejection.

  “Yes,” I said. “Though I fear I do you no favour by saying so. Yes, if I am what you truly want, then I shall marry you.”

  Delight and relief flashed across his face, and he exclaimed, “Gods be praised, Aenna, thank you!” He threw his arms in the air and shouted, “It is yes! She has said yes!” As the people in the inn cheered, he wrapped his arms around me again joyously, picking me up off my feet and spinning me around. He set me back down and kissed me with youthful enthusiasm as he so often had back at Endren.

  Then he stepped back and searched his pockets for something. Out of one he pulled the gold chain and pendant he had given me the day I left. I could not help but smile, and seeing me thus he went behind me to put it back around my neck. I lifted the braid of my hair out of his way as he clasped it.

  When he was done I turned to him again and fell into his arms. I had dreamed this dream many a night as I had lay awake missing him, and here he was, and again to marry me.

  He startled me as he lifted me off the floor, cradled in his arms. He turned to Deggle and proclaimed, “I am terribly sorry to steal away your employee, innkeeper, but this dear lady is wanted back at home, in Endren.” Then he ceremoniously carried me outside, where their horses awaited.

  Jarik followed us out, and Kurit turned when he called, swinging me about in his arms.

  “Aenna, do you have belongings I should gather?” asked Jarik.

  I looked to Kurit to put me down so I could go and fetch my things, but he would not. “I just won you back, and I’m not letting go,” he said teasingly.

  Jarik gave him an impatient look, so quickly I answered, “I don’t have much. Just a dress and a hairbrush. And a little bit of money saved up.”

  “You won’t need any of that anymore,” said Kurit.

  “Well then, tell Deggle he should divide the money amongst the other barmaids. I suppose that’s only fair, for they’ll be shorthanded without me. But I’ll need the dress to change into, unless you want me to wear this same dirty one the whole way to Endren.”

  “Home, Aenna. Call it home,” Kurit said, beaming at me.

  I went on, unable to cope with that notion just at that moment. “And I’ll need the brush on the journey as well. I cannot bear to have my hair unbrushed.”

  “Or go without a bath. I remember.” Kurit laughed. He swung me up to his saddle so joyously that I almost rolled right over the horse and would have if he hadn’t still been holding my legs.

  Jarik went back into the inn to fetch my things, as Kurit took his place on the saddle behind me. Because I was riding side-saddle, as was appropriate to an unmarried woman, he was able to turn my face to him for another sweet kiss.

  Jarik returned with my belongings and tucked them into his satchel. He mounted his horse, and we were off.

  So there I was once again leaving my own life and employment for this man, and with no less trepidation than the last time. Of course, then I had feared what might have been lurking on the dark path at night, while this time I worried if I was condemning us to misery as Queen Kasha had predicted.

  * * *

  We rode quickly down Westpath, slowing to rest the horses when we turned onto Southpath.
At that pace, Jarik was able to ride beside Kurit and me instead of in front of us, and we were all able to talk.

  “How did you possibly find me?” I inquired.

  “I didn’t,” Kurit said, his arms loosely around me as he held the reins. “Jarik did.” He told me the full story of how he learned I had gone.

  “I came to see you before dinner, and there was no one in your room. I had been planning to ask you if you were up to joining everyone in the Great Hall for dinner that night, but when I couldn’t find you I assumed you were off with Leiset somewhere, trying on more dresses or some such thing. I didn’t worry in the slightest and simply assumed that I’d ask you to join us for dinner the following night.

  “Then as I was climbing the stairs on my way to my chambers, I saw Leiset leaving the south wing, alone, and looking distraught. I called to her, but she pretended not to hear me and hurried away. I found that very odd, but I decided not to pursue her at that moment. Instead, I went to my chambers and found my manservant Gilrin looking sheepish. For a moment I wondered if Leiset and Gilrin had had some sort of romance that had gone sour, even though rumour has it that Leiset is not fond of men. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that Leiset had brought a note from you. When I asked for it, he didn’t want to give it to me, as if delaying the truth would make it easier.

  “When finally he acquiesced and I read the note, I was naturally upset.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt and looked away. In doing so, I saw that Jarik was looking at Kurit rather incredulously.

  Kurit saw Jarik’s expression and said, “Oh, fine. I was more than upset. I … I might have lost my temper a bit.” He received another look from Jarik and admitted, “I went completely mad. I ran to your room, and of course you were not there, and neither was Leiset. So I stormed around the palace, shouting out both your names, making several servants go pale with my wrath, I’m afraid.

  “I finally found Leiset sitting in the southeast tower steps, weeping pitifully. I ordered her to tell me where you had gone. She replied that she didn’t know, that you wouldn’t tell her because you didn’t want me to find you. She knew only that you had left Endren and did not intend to return.