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Oh, not in the way that you might think, mother. I could feel my cheeks burn at my random thought.
“No, mother. He is in control. He does not take too much of my fire.”
“How did you two end up, um, consummating your marriage?” my mother asked, more embarrassed than I was.
“I asked for it.”
“You didn’t think you would kill him?”
“I had noticed he calms me down whenever I got upset. He eventually confessed.”
“Ah. He never forced himself on you even though he knew he could get away with it?”
“No, mother. Never. It was I who almost forced myself on him.”
My mother chuckled, to my surprise. It was quiet, her chest moving up and down. Then, it came out like tinkling bells. Oh, my mother. Ever the queen. She knew me well enough to believe me.
“Did you two fall in love?”
I was quiet. I thought it over. I was not sure what it felt like to be in love. Would it mean wanting to see the person every day? Then, yes. Did it mean fearing that he might die without me seeing him again? Then, yes. Did it mean thinking about his face, his touch, and his voice all the time? Then, yes.
“I am not sure, mother,” was what I said, instead. It was tricky to take this position of a vulnerable wife to a husband who might be in danger.
My mother looked at me intently, scrutinizing my face, but she did not comment. She probably thought I was confused. I was. Beneath my calm exterior, I was screaming. I reminded myself that I was not lying. My mother asked whether Metheus and I had fallen in love. I could not answer for him. Physically, we knew how to satisfy each other. For him, it was an intellectual pursuit. He read about it. He watched brothel whores have sex. For me, it was simply unleashing my passion, something that had belonged to me for a long time.
Love was a dangerous word, though. I did not know how to lay claim to it.
“Well, here you are. A dangerous fire witch. Why are you not there to help your husband?”
“He wants to keep me safe.”
“I understand that, Luella. But is that what you want? To stay here and wait it out? You are my child, and I would rather keep you safe here. I only want to know what you think about it.”
I wanted to be there, of course. With Metheus. I wanted him to make love to me to help each other forget the dangers that faced us. Even for a few minutes. Or a few hours. I wanted to fight his enemies, although I had no way of finding them. Not yet. But I would be there for him when we find those enemies.
“Can we find a way to help identify the murderers?”
“We can try that. Metheus has Seers there and a coven of witches at full strength. We are weak, but we can try.”
In the afternoon, I took a walk with Francilia in the fields that my husband had touched with his power. Rowali did not feel like getting up that morning. I vowed to comfort her when I returned. She had just lost her father, and she had to deal with her feelings in a strange land.
Even though I was told what to expect, I still let out a gasp. The fields were greener than I had ever seen them. Even before the drought, they did not look like these. It seemed that most of the workers had headed further down south, some even in Leiderman, because I only saw Razuku, Cora, and Eli there.
Their faces looked strained. Cora often had a haughty look on her face, but not anymore. On it was despair. Razuku and Eli, often boisterous and cheerful, looked like ghosts of their former selves. They were Metheus’ childhood friends. King Doro was like a father to them, too.
Cora ran to me, surprising me with her fierce embrace. I held her close to myself and felt the heavy droplets of tears on my shoulder. I willed myself not to cry, but there was time for everything. Even deep mourning.
Razuku and Eli approached. At first, they were hesitant to join in, but I held out one hand. So, they went in. Francilia looked on, giving us space. I glanced at her to see if she was alright. She simply nodded at me, her arms hugging herself. It was far from cold, but it was no longer hot in Queenspell.
Strong warriors of Arrowspear cried that day. They had lost a patriarch, someone they loved so dearly. King Doro was a man who descended from generations of kings. However, his heart was open to anyone and anything, and he was well-loved.
Who would want to kill him?
What kind of evil would want to wreak havoc on a peaceful kingdom? I could understand Mogochislenians better. There have always been power struggles in our history. Greedy people wanted more and more, toppling others to get at the throne. So, who were the barbarians now?
“I am so sorry, Your Majesty. For being so familiar,” Cora wept.
“No, do not fret, Cora. I understand. We need to be with people who understand the pain of losing someone important to us. You three knew the king for far longer than I had. I cannot imagine what pain you are going through.”
