Mother drops her cutlery. “Thank you, Lark, for choosing such an inopportune time to make this announcement.”
“They should know the truth, since you’ve never bothered to share it. Are we so embarrassing to you?”
I stare at Lark Gazhirem, at his agitated fingers and youthful shoulders and obstinate face, and try to reconcile the fact that he is actually family. Mother doesn’t speak of those in Resya. I never imagined she might have more brothers and sisters there, cousins and in-laws, but here he is.
Reni appears equally confounded by the revelation. “Cousins? But you aren’t a Lehzar.”
“I have my mother’s name,” he explains, as if it’s of no great importance. “Listen, I know your dislike of the General. You don’t want another to interfere in your affairs, but this is exactly what everyone in the North wants for the South. They don’t give us a chance to defend ourselves. They don’t let us speak—”
Mother’s fist falls on the table. “I said this matter is closed!”
“—but I have a proposal that could save us all from war.”
Havis puts a swift hand on Lark’s arm, pushing him back. “Now certainly isn’t the time or place. Let’s not ruin this meal with useless debate.”
Mother’s expression is still tight. “Thank you, Ambassador.”
There’s silence, then Lark says, “Though it is rather odd that despite your disdain of Resya, you plan to marry your daughter to one of ours. What on earth will your proper Northern friends think?”
For an awkward moment, the words don’t register. Then suddenly the air has disappeared from the room and my breath catches. I look from Havis to Reni to Mother—all of them staring at me—and she leans forward, like she’s going to reassure me, but I don’t give her the chance.
“What does he mean, Mother?”
“My star, he spoke out of turn, as he has since the moment he sat at this table. I didn’t wish to tell you this way. I wanted—”
“What does he mean, though? What does he mean?” Panic has me fighting for coherence.
“You’ve always been aware of the Ambassador’s intentions. This isn’t a surprise.”
I turn to Reni, but he won’t meet my eye. There’s evident pity on Uncle’s face. A touch of regret on Havis’s, even.
It’s true. It’s true and everyone at this table knew it except for me.
“Is this a proposal?” I ask Havis, terrified of the answer.
“Not yet.” He looks oddly addled. “We’re going to announce it at the end of the summer when—”
“Not until you’re seventeen,” Mother explains.
Seventeen. Marriage.
Death.
I should have seen it coming. Havis warned me and I didn’t believe him. I convinced myself Mother trusted me, that she needed me here with her, an ally, and that Reni might find a way to intervene. I let myself get distracted by Athan Erelis, let myself believe I could have his warm kiss, that there was a chance at something more, and it was a lie of my own making.
I’ve tricked myself.
“You see, then?” Lark persists, raising his hands. “You would give your daughter to this man, you would send her to a kingdom with a drunken king, and yet you make me look the fool here?”
Mother turns on him. “Yes! Because your father’s schemes threaten to undo everything I’ve worked for. I brought the Safire into alliance. I made this happen with my own two hands. The world isn’t in a state for you to plot games and win profit for yourself. You’re up against players too large for that.”
“This is about peace,” Lark declares. “This is about the peace our ancestors dreamt of. Or have you forgotten where you come from?”
Mother points a finger at him. “I do not answer to you or your father, Lark Gazhirem. You shame your mother’s name with this.”
“You don’t even know what I’m asking,” he replies, vaguely hurt. “You won’t even listen!”
I sit in the midst of the hurled words, splintering, wounded, and only Reni’s hand on mine reminds me to breathe.
I stand from the table.
I want to cry, I want Mother to see my pain, but there’s nothing in me except fury. She reaches a hand towards me. Her eyes beg understanding. But I leave them all and their rotten betrayal behind.
* * *
I spend the entire day in my room, refusing every knock. The first few times it’s Heathwyn, speaking softly, and then after that it’s Mother, imploring me to open the door and let her in for only a moment.
I sit by the window, temper burning.
The colourless world has become a heated red. I can’t even soothe myself with thoughts of Athan’s arms round me. Instead, I imagine lying beneath Havis, his heavy, hot breath on my face. His beard against my naked flesh. Everything of mine taken by him. Trapped in Resya, learning to kiss his lips, forced to please him while Reni rules Etania, and Athan flies in a faraway sky, and the world burns up in flames.
I want to scream until the palace shatters round me.
There’s another knock at the door.
“Please let me in,” Reni says. “It’s nearly midnight and you’ve eaten nothing all day.”
I glance at the clock.
Midnight? It feels like it’s been only an hour, or maybe an eternity.
“I have a meal, Ali. And some pastries.”
Surrendering, I rise from my chair and unlock the door. Reni takes a cautious step inside. He holds a tray bearing the promised desserts. We sit on the bed together and divide the food between us, picking at it silently, and I’m afraid to speak. I might just tell him everything, even the unbearable desire I hold for a boy I can’t have.
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you,” he says, guilt in his hazel eyes. “I knew.”
It isn’t a surprise. He knows many things, keeps them from me, locked away behind closed doors with Uncle. But this one thing he should have told me. This thing that might ruin my life. And now I also know something, and I’m prepared to use it. I have no choice.
“Father was murdered,” I say, picking out my next pastry.
Silence.
I study each one, the different designs of frosting and fruit, the spirals of dusted sugar. I say nothing and make my choice, then look up into the shocked and wounded face of my brother, see the way even horror makes his handsome features harden into something regal.
“It’s the truth,” I say. “Mother told me. He was poisoned by his enemies. She doesn’t wish you to know, because she’s afraid it will make you a reckless king, but now you know. I’ve told you. I’ve given you this card to hold. Now you have to do the same for me.”
His hand trembles as he reaches for mine, hoarse pain in his question. “How can this be?”
I explain as much as I can, about Father allowing ideas to flourish, how he didn’t wish to punish those who spoke against him in secret, but I don’t mention the buried rumour of Father not being royal. I won’t give Reni a reason to doubt. I won’t let any poison fester.
The truth breaks over him, my revelations hitting like stones, heavy, and his shoulders droop. Perhaps he’s feeling foolish for ever entertaining the protesters’ concerns, for speaking against Mother.
Perhaps I’ve shown him his own shame.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says, voice thin with grief. His hand squeezes mine. “And in return, I’m to stall this engagement?”
“Any way that you can, Reni.”
“Of course.”
And I believe him. I wrap my arms round him tightly, forever in love with his firm and gentle nature. He puts on a good show of being ironclad, of being proud, but inside he’s all Father, too earnest for this shifting world. Wanting it to be better and more orderly. More kind.
There’s a soft knock on the door and Heathwyn’s troubled face appears.
Reni deposits his sorrow somewhere deep inside, hidden, and stands quickly, bidding me good night.
Tonight will not be an easy one for him.
Alone with Heathwyn, I await a lecture, something about how I am too old to be abandoning my mother’s table so childishly, then locking myself away, but instead her lips purse. “I may regret giving this to you, lamb, but I haven’t the heart to keep it on me any longer.”