“Her Majesty was discussing it with my father. She sounded very pleased.”
She was indeed pleased, and also surprised, since I invited Havis along of my own free will. I feigned a desire to get to know my betrothed, but really, I want to find out if he knows the truth about Lark, and if he thinks a negotiation with the Nahir could work. I’ll play along with the engagement if it means finding out those answers. I need to know.
Violet seems to believe me, too. “You’ve finally taken a liking to him, then?”
“He’s not so bad. He likes horses.” My list of positives ends there. I’ll have to work on that.
“But what about the Lieutenant?”
“The Lieutenant?” I ask, like I’d forgotten him altogether.
“Yes, your darling friend, the one you might have got to kiss you if you’d played your angle a little better.”
I draw Liberty into a tighter frame. “I’ll never see him again, Violet.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“He’s only a farm boy.”
“Those things don’t always matter.”
Liberty throws his head, sensing my rising tension through the reins. “Yes, they do matter, Violet,” I say, turning in the saddle. We halt. “I don’t see any point in giving up someone who has everything for someone who has nothing. It’s foolish.”
She sucks in an annoyed breath. “Perhaps to some.”
I know we’re both waiting for the question, so I finally ask, “Have you heard from the Captain?”
It’s a mystery I’ve wondered about since the Safire left, and since I caught her and Reni in the midst of an emotional tangle before he left for the tour, I think I have the right to ask.
It’s my brother she’s wounding.
“I received a letter this week,” she replies, unaffected by my tone.
“And?” It comes out more demanding than I intend.
“He has an uncle in Norvenne with connections to the royal theatre. They’re going to see what strings they can pull, to get me an audition, and I should have an answer by the end of summer.” Leafy branches flicker light across her resolute face. “I’m planning to go.”
Of course he’d fan the flames of her greatest dream. He’s clever and Safire.
“What if he’s lying?” I ask.
“I trust him.” Her look dares me to contest Cock’s loyalty, and my hope of talking her back from the edge, for my brother’s sake, disappears. “You know nothing about him, Ali. Nothing at all. Garrick hasn’t had an easy life. He’s very lonely much of the time, and hates to go home.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“His father’s quite hard on him,” she continues, “always pushing for more. His younger brother is an officer in the Navy, well-accomplished, yet their father’s furious that he hasn’t been promoted in a year. Family honour rests on their shoulders, and right now Garrick’s the one rising. I don’t think we can understand what that’s like. They must work for everything they earn.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s worth the trouble.”
“Trouble? Garrick’s brave and honourable, Ali! He willingly puts his life in danger for others. The stories he told me from Karkev were dreadful. He said he once had an oil leak and his engine caught fire. The entire thing went up in smoke, blinding him, and he thought for sure he’d be cooked to death, slowly, like a chicken.” She shudders a bit. “There were blisters on his skin.”
My stomach clenches. Death in an aeroplane is supposed to be quick. A sudden explosion, then darkness. Being roasted alive, gradually, sounds far more sinister, and the thought of Athan …
I can’t think of it.
“It’s a terrible, noble thing to be a soldier, isn’t it?” Violet continues softly, sensing my horror. “I’m sure no one understands. But I tried for him. That’s the only thing I thought as I held his body. I imagined how it could soon turn to nothing. How the energy in him, wanting me, needing me, could so quickly disappear.”
I frown. “When you held his body?”
She straightens in the saddle. “I mean what I said.”
“Violet!”
“Don’t look at me like that, Ali. Don’t you dare. I’m eighteen years old, and everything was my decision.”
Shock gives way to revulsion, the idea of her—my best friend—allowing herself to be used this way. It’s beyond improper. It’s foolish and impulsive and she’s ruined herself without thought! “He has nothing to offer you, Violet. He’s an officer and that’s all he’ll ever be. He won’t have wealth, or high status. He’ll be gone for months on end, stars know where, and you’ll be left behind, wondering every day if he’s already dead and the letter simply hasn’t reached you yet. Is that what you want?”
I don’t care that I could be giving myself the same lecture.
“What if it is?” she replies, eyes fierce. “I’d rather endure a hundred days of uncertainty and love than a lifetime of miserable, wasted days.”
“But you might have had a king!”
“Yes, and believe me, he tried before he left! But Reni is mad. He thinks he can win me with a crown, but I don’t care whether he gets it now or in a year, that’s not love. It isn’t!”
She cups a hand to her mouth. She knows she’s said the wrong thing.
“What do you mean now or in a year?” I demand.
“I don’t know what he meant,” she says rapidly. “I don’t. He was only trying to win me back. Empty promises. I’m sure that’s it.”
But even she sounds like that’s far from the truth. And I know then, at last, what Reni and Uncle have been doing in their secret meetings all these weeks, why they’re suddenly off on a tour, presenting the Prince and reminding everyone how very noble and Northern he is.
Reni wants to take his throne early.
Stars in heaven!
I swing down from Liberty and tie him to a nearby oak, then do the same with Ivory. Violet watches from the saddle, bewildered, but I’m already pulling off my shirt, down to my underslip. The boots are next.
“What are you doing?” Violet asks.
“Swimming.”
She gapes at the river. “Now?”
I shrug. My pants are already off, bare feet touching cool mud and wet leaves. The banks of the river lined with grass and weeds and jurica. Then I throw off the last bit of cotton and jump in. It’s magical. Cold and fresh, everything bare and smooth in the water, like a fish. Beneath the surface are muffled sounds. Shivering light above and murky haze below. My hair billows round me, and when I peer at my naked skin through the foggy water I wonder at how strange it really is, holding all these pieces of me together. Pieces that wouldn’t exist without my mother or father, my very heartbeat an act of grace from them. And somewhere, unseen in my blood, a fragment of Prince Efan, and beyond that, somewhere distant, the faded colours of Lark and Mother and Resya. This strange, fragile skin holds too much.
We’re all mosaics no one sees.
I break the surface again, gulping in air, and find Violet immersed to her neck. Her clothes are in a heap by the bank.
She paddles closer, soaking wet, and I can’t tell if it’s the river or tears on her cheeks. “You don’t understand,” she says, pain in her voice. “Everyone thinks I want a crown, but I don’t. I want more than that. I don’t want to be my mother.”
“But your mother is…” I don’t say the word. Dead. It’s never a word to be said out loud. I know that well.
Violet nods. “She is. But before that, she fell in love with another man and went to Lalia. She was bored with my father. With me. And so she left.” Her lips tremble beneath drops of water. “I’d be happy enough with Reni, and I’d have everything any girl could want. Truly everything this world could offer. He’d be there each day, always loyal, always the same.”