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“No rule, nothing like that. I meant I was grateful you were...” She gestured with her hand. “A person. Someone. Anyone.”
“Anyone?” Understanding dawned on me. “You mean the prince hasn’t brought home anyone before?”
Breena snorted. “I should think not. The queen is already having a fit and it’s been more than twenty years since...” She trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. I assumed she was about to reference the banishment I wasn’t supposed to know about.
“And yet... I’m still here,” I said cautiously.
“Hmm,” was all Breena said.
I took it that meant “for now.”
I noticed a tall screen off in one corner. Going over to the bench, I selected an outfit and then stepped behind the screen.
“Prince Kairos is one hundred and fifty years old or so, correct?” I called through the screen to Breena. “I’m surprised he never married.”
I bit my lip, wondering if she would take the bait.
Sure enough. “He was supposed to,” the servant muttered. “Still should. Not too late. She’s still not wed, is she? Might still make a powerful match. But the other? No, I won’t speak of that. You ask him, if you wish. That’s for him to tell, not me.”
That was not particularly informative.
I popped out from behind the screen and went to look in one of the mirrors. A tunic of pale blue muslin that hit my leg mid-thigh had been paired with fitted trousers of a sturdy material in a dove gray. Around my waist I had cinched a woven leather belt decorated with small blue stones I thought might be sapphires. The belt made my waist look narrower than it was. The blue and the gray complemented the silver of my hair, which hung wet and stringy around my shoulders.
Breena marched over, towel in hand, pushed me into a chair before the mirror and began to dry my hair.
“So the prince has never had a... mistress?” I asked carefully. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how much I really wanted to know about Draven’s past love life.
“Oh, he’s had women. His fair share, aplenty. The ladies have always flocked to him, haven’t they? Only to be rejected politely more times than naught. Men, too, for that matter. He favors the women though. Known him since he was a boy, haven’t I? I can tell you that much. He’s choosy though, very choosy.” She was watching me in the mirror, her eyes hawkish.
“He is certainly a... very striking man,” I ventured, trying to sound grateful for having been selected as Draven’s paramour. It took considerable effort.
What I’d said was true, at least. But I wasn’t going to go overboard with my flattery lest it get back to Draven and go to his head.
“Very handsome. And intelligent, too. And such a commanding air about him,” Breena agreed. “He’ll make an excellent emperor.”
“Emperor?” I asked. “But I thought there was a queen...”
“Queen Regent,” Breena corrected. “Not empress. Queen Sephone rules until a true ruler can be found. That was supposed to be Draven’s elder brother, but...” She made a clucking sound and moved off to find a brush.
“But he died,” I finished quietly, trying to conjure up the proper respectful tone. “That must have been...”
“Shattering, that’s what it was,” Breena snapped. “It shattered this kingdom into a million pieces and I don’t think we’ve ever been the same.” Breena sighed and began to work on my hair, plaiting it and weaving it into a loose elegant braid that reminded me of a fish’s tail.
“Because Prince Kairos committed fratricide, you mean,” I suggested, keeping my voice carefully neutral.
Breena scowled. “He did what he did. There are some who would call it that. And others who would call it something else entirely.”
My eyebrows went up. “What do you mean? Draven–Prince Kairos, I mean–didkill his brother, didn’t he?”
“I won’t argue with that. But there’s some killing that can be justified and some that cannot. Prince Kairos, well, he’s always had a softer heart than most in this court.”
A soft heart? Were we talking about the same Draven? What could possibly be “soft” about killing your own sibling?
Then I thought of Odelna. Draven had insisted on sheltering the child, on bringing her with us. He had protected her. Protected me.
But not Lancelet. He wasn’t strong enough, fast enough... good enough... not for that.
With a shock, I realized I blamed him more than I did myself.
