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The rage I felt yesterday surges back to life and I shove to my feet, unable to sit still.
“Why,” Noé starts, “would they want you to reject a woman they’re forcing you to marry? It makes no sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I scratch at my beard, frustrated and restless and horny. “But I think Kharon knows that he’s put me in an impossible position, that this marriage will likely trigger a challenge.”
“But if he wants to rid the Realms of you,” Noé says. “He shouldwantyou to marry her, not reject her.”
“What will happen if I’m rejected?” Rina asks.
“I guess,” Eldon says slowly. “We would be penalized in some way.”
“Possibly they would cut off our shipments of ale,” I tell them. While we do brew some of our own hops and distill some grain here at home, the quality is close to rot-gut level. Nothing like the smooth ale we trade for with the Bear Realm, where ale is their speciality.
“What?!” Noé exclaims. “That’s impossible. The men would revolt.”
We’re all quiet for a moment. “So,” Rina says. “There will be discontent if I’m rejected and discontent if I’m not.”
“Which is what Kharon wants, surely,” Eldon muses. “But maybe we can use this as a rallying cry, Luka. Taxes for the Bear Realm have increased every year. We could create an us-against-them kind of scenario.”
“We can’t do that!” Noé is appalled. “That’s treasonous.”
“Relax,” I tell him. “We are discussing our options, nothing more.” I tap the parchment that’s brought us nothing but difficulties. “Let’s finish.”
Rina takes a breath and reads to the end, finishing with, “Your ally, Mattice Dulat.”
Rina lowers the letter to her lap, and Eldon and Noé proceed to quiz her on everything she knows about the King’s High Advisor. Her personal involvement with him is not known to them, and I find myself unwilling to spill her secrets. Though it may not be the smartest course of action, dredging up her past with the loathsome pig feels unnecessarily cruel, especially when she’s doing so well at keeping her answers succinct and unemotional.
“What I don’t understand is why this man is involved at all?” Eldon says, baffled. “Is he speaking for the King himself?”
“And if he is,” I continue the thought. “Why would the King want to destabilize the bonds between north and south? Surely a united front against our common enemy to the east is of more importance.”
Lifting his cup of ale, Noé states the obvious. “Ithas tobe of more importance. The savages are relentless.”
“Or perhaps,” I say. “D’heilar wants to move north. To conquer us once and for all.”
Both Eldon and Noé laugh, but Rina nods. “Speak, little raven.”
“That sounds exactly like something my cousin would want. If Gaden is a peacock, the Realms are mud, marring his extravagant feathers.”
We all stare at her.
“What? That’s what most of D’heilar thinks of the Realms, Gaden most of all. And my death at your hands would simply reinforce the idea that you are not to be trusted.”
Eldon leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. “But that would mean your own cousin has sent you to your death.”
“Oh, there’s nothing he’d enjoy more.” Noé makes a harsh noise of disbelief, so she continues. “It’s not uncommon in D’heilar to eliminate those in contention for the throne. I was seven when my father and two brothers were put on trial and hanged. And the same happened with my mother when I was thirteen.”
Shock hits me, and I realize how very little I know about the D’heilar kingdom or my intended bride, and my mind conjuring an image of Rina, alone at such a young age, isn’t to my liking at all.
“And they call us barbarians,” Eldon scoffs.
Rina shrugs. “That he’s found a way to use my death in a political move doesn’t surprise me at all.”
I watch her brush her fingers over the last part of the letter. “Tell me.”
Her head comes up. “What?”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
