Reaylin, who had been watching the interplay with rapt attention, said, “Yserria is Leréshi, so she wouldn’t have to marry you, right?”
Rezkin glanced at Yserria who flushed deep red. “Yserria is my ward,” he said as he crossed the room to inspect the fireplace.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t have to be a big deal,” said Reaylin. “She claims you as her consort, but it’s not like anything has to come of it.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Yserria mumbled. “If it were so easy to claim a consort who can serve as your champion, don’t you think all women would go around claiming everyone?”
“What do you mean?” said Reaylin.
Rezkin pulled his head from the chimney and said, “For Yserria’s claim to counter the queen’s, I would have to accept it. If I accept the claim, the union must be consummated—in front of witnesses.”
“That’s barbaric,” exclaimed Frisha.
Rezkin said, “The Leréshi are much freer with their lovemaking.” He then crawled onto the floor and slid halfway under a sofa to examine the underside.
Nanessy bent over to look at him as she said, “You think the queen intends to force a claim on you?”
“No,” he replied, sliding from beneath the furniture. He stood and frowned when he looked down at himself. “She is confident that I will change my mind. In fact, she is so confident that she is giving her opponents time to scheme and present their own challenges. She believes I will accept her claim and choose to fight as her champion against any challengers. I have no idea what she intends to hold over me.”
“Us, maybe?” Frisha said, worrying at her lip. “Do you think she would hurt us or hold us hostage?”
“It is possible, but she is conniving. Threatening you would serve no purpose besides changing my mind, and that would alienate me in the process. I would guess she has bigger plans.”
Now covered in soot and dust, and frustrated with his lack of insight, Rezkin no longer wished to continue the conversation. He excused himself to bathe with instructions that none of them were to leave the suite.
Just as Rezkin closed himself into the bathing chamber, a timid knock sounded at the door. Wesson opened it to admit Celise and then took a seat on a chair in the corner, hoping to go unnoticed.
“Lady Yserria,” Celise said. “I am in the middle.”
They all looked at the woman, waiting for her to say more.
Celise looked at the curious faces and said, “I am in the middle?” When they did not respond, she said, “There is a man. I speak with you, and I am in the middle.” Still, they were puzzled, so she tried, “The man … um … wishes to be with you, and I am in the middle.”
After not receiving the response she had expected, she sighed and switched to Leréshi.
Yserria said, “Ooh, she is acting as an intermediary.”
Celise nodded and said, “Your matrianera would to be intermediary, but he asks me. I know the man.”
Yserria nervously fingered the hilt of her sword. “You are saying that a man wants me to claim him?”
“Yes, Lady Yserria. This man wants to be claim of you.”
“No—” Yserria started.
“Wait, Yserria,” Nanessy said. “You should at least hear about this man. He might be the love of your life. Can you imagine having a man totally devoted to you?”
“Yes,” Yserria hissed. “I almost had one.”
Nanessy said, “I am truly sorry about that, but you should at least hear her out.”
Yserria said, “Fine, what about this man?” She had attempted to soothe the acid from her tone, but she was not sure she had succeeded.
Celise smiled. “His name is Coledon. He is handsome. He is good sword man. Very large man and strong. He is royal guard. He is good choice for consort. My mother … she want for me claim him.”
“But you haven’t,” Reaylin said suspiciously.
Celise looked embarrassed. “No. I have not claim.”
“Why not?” Frisha said.
“My mother. She want warrior man for me. Big man. Guard to be champion for me to be higher. But … big mans are … um … I am afraid.”
Frisha said, “I thought Leréshi men are good to their women.”
“Yes, yes, are good, but warriors are dangerous. Um, they have a look. They want. Um … desire. Some say they can be rough. Some matria like this. I do not like this.” She looked quickly to Yserria. “But this man is good, and you are strong. You are warrior. You are not afraid, and he is desired by many.”
Reaylin said, “If he is so desired, why hasn’t he been claimed?”
“His matrianera, his sister, will not let him go. He is great champion. She does not want to lose.” She turned to Yserria and nodded toward the bathing chamber where Rezkin could be seen soaking in the bath through the stained-glass windows. “If you claim Coledon, she will not risk her consort to challenge claim.”
Yserria crossed her arms. “So, this Coledon does not have any interest in me. He just wants to get away from his sister.”
Celise shook her head. “No, you are beautiful and strong. You not give to queen as she wants. Coledon likes this.”
“I have no interest in claiming anyone,” Yserria said. “Besides, I have accepted my king as my guardian. That means he must approve of anyone I marry.”
“You give him this power?” Celise said, obviously bewildered. “Your king does wish to marry you?”
“No!” she said, shaking her head emphatically. She glanced at Frisha’s bitter expression and, less certainly, said, “I don’t think so. I-I don’t know.”
Celise stared at the torque around Yserria’s neck and gave her a doubtful look.
Yserria balled her fists and tried to keep her voice low as she pointed at Frisha and exclaimed, “He was supposed to marry her!”
Celise glanced between them and then finally turned to Yserria. “You will speak with Coledon?”
“No,” Yserria said. “I am not claiming anyone.”
Celise appeared crestfallen. She nodded and turned toward the door, thanking Wesson as he hopped up to open it for her.
When he turned back around, he paused and said, “Where is Rezkin?”
The ladies turned to peer through the stained glass, but Rezkin was gone.
Rezkin clung to the stones on the parapet as the wind whipped around him. Most of the shutters were locked tight against the approaching storm, and the wall patrol was having a difficult time keeping the torches lit. He climbed over the barrier of the walkway just as the first drops threatened to make the walls too slippery to climb. The door stood open, and Rezkin wrapped his cloak around him tightly as he stomped into the guardhouse, turning and shaking as he went, sure to keep his face hidden as he made his presence obvious. The guards paid him no attention as they waxed and oiled their supplies, continuing with their banter and complaints about the turning weather.
“It’s starting already, is it?” the one with a long mustache muttered. “Can’t get a dry night, can we?”
“The foreigners brought it with ’em,” said a younger man.
“Bah, that’s a load, and you know it. It’s been rainin’ for more than a week, and they just got here.”
“Don’t mean they didn’t bring it. It’s an omen,” said the younger.
“It’s not an omen, you idiot. It’s called the changing of the seasons. Happens every year or are you too green to remember. Mayhap you were still suckling your mother’s teat last year, eh?”
“I’m just saying, there’s a king in the palace. You know that’s an ill portent.”
“Queen says he’s not a king. It don’t count.”
“Yeah, well, I hear things go wrong everywhere this one goes. He took the Channerían princess, and now they’re in a civil war. The latest is there’s trouble in Jerea, too.”
“He hasn’t even been to Jerea,” said the older man. “At least, not that I’ve heard.”
The young man shrugged. “They’re sayin’ it’s his fault, anyway. And you heard about the torque. He’s been to see the Adana’Ro, which means he’s been to Ferélle.”
“I haven’t heard of no trouble there.”