“You have no ground on which to stand,” Rezkin said. “You will hand over Oledia whether I agree to the claim or not.”
Erisial chuckled. “Do not think that I have missed your play. I know of your efforts with my men, with the captain of my royal guard. I know what you have been doing to my Serunius.” She gazed at her consort and said, “I have seen the way he looks at her. She is the physical embodiment of a powerful Leréshi woman, and she is beautiful. With your backing, she could take the throne. She could gain favor by claiming my Serunius. He may even accept her claim.”
Serunius scowled at her, to which she shrugged one shoulder. She said, “There are few men I could choose as champion who might have a chance at defeating him. If he leaves me, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to retain the throne. This means that, if I am to remain queen, I must convince you to either accept my claim or leave and take your knight with you. This means giving you what you want. You have played an effective game. The only problem is that it was completely unnecessary. I have already decided to give you what you want and more.”
“How so?”
Erisial strode over to a settee and took a seat, motioning for Rezkin to sit on the sofa across from her. Celise rose and poured each of them a cup of tea, then returned to her place on the bench by the writing table.
“I have been queen for over six years. It is an eternity as far as my opponents are concerned. They grow anxious. I have already uncovered several plots to assassinate me, and a few have used ridiculous promises in an attempt to seduce Serunius into assisting. Celise, of course, has been a target. Despite what many think, she has never been permitted to serve me directly until now. Technically, she is here to serve you. She is quite committed to you now. I know how she is, though. She would never consider trying to claim you, even if I had not already announced my plans. She is weak and timid, traits she surely inherited from her father’s side.”
Rezkin noticed that Celise kept her eyes on the tablet in front of her, her face heating in embarrassment. He said nothing, though, but waited for the queen to make her point.
“I am only now entering my prime, and I have no intention of letting those vultures get to me. I need security. That is where you come in.”
“Claiming me will not stop others from plotting against you.”
“No, indeed, it would only stop them from openly challenging me. The prospect of assassination becomes more appealing to them. No, I need more. I do not intend to claim you as consort. I am claiming you as my husband. You will be the first king of Lon Lerésh.”
Rezkin stared at the woman, attempting to judge her sincerity as his mind ran away with all the possible reasons for her to do something so absurd. She smiled, apparently pleased to have left him speechless.
“You are surprised,” she said.
“No queen of Lon Lerésh would ever consider taking a husband. It is antithetical to your entire power structure. It is a sure way to incite rebellion.”
She set her teacup and saucer on the table between them and said, “I benefit little from claiming you as consort, especially since you will be leaving as soon as I release Oledia. Lon Lerésh is a matriarchy, a structure that has defined our culture since the founding of our queendom, and no one of any consequence wants that to change. If you are my husband, however, then you have equal right to the throne. If someone kills me, you become ruler. No one wants that to happen. Therefore, they must kill you before they kill me. You will not be here. You will be off fighting your war and claiming other kingdoms for your empire. It will be in everyone’s best interest, including that of my enemies, for me to continue living.”
“So long as I am alive,” Rezkin said.
“Yes. Of course, it will mean additional people after your head, but I doubt a few more will make much of a difference. They will have difficulty contracting with the Adana’Ro since you have dealings with them, and I intend to make refusing contracts against you a stipulation of allowing my daughter to join them. If they do not wish to take the endeavor into their own hands, I suppose my enemies could contact the Order or the Black Hall. With your disruptions in Channería and Ashai, one of them may be willing to take a contract against you.”
She tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I have recently received an odd report that the Raven has endorsed your claim to the Ashaiian throne, so the Black Hall may not be an option either. Regardless, I am confident that you can handle whatever they throw at you.”
“So, you wish to place a target on my back to save yourself.”
“You want Oledia. I want to live.”
“Besides your release of Oledia to the Adana’Ro, which I believe you intend to do regardless of my decision, what do I gain from this deal?”
“By our traditions, as husband and wife, we are to be equals. That means we must have equal power over the people. It does not mean we will share the same power. I will continue to rule where I know best. I will maintain the business and politics. You will get the army and navy. I believe you will find them useful when waging your war. You must remember, however, that as a ruler of Lon Lerésh, your first duty is to our people. You will use our military to the advancement and security of our people. You will not carelessly sacrifice them to win Ashai.”
Rezkin placed his saucer and cup on the table and leaned forward. He said, “You overplayed your hand. Your disinterest in your eldest daughter has nothing to do with her or her father and everything to do with Serunius.”
Erisial was thrown by the abrupt non sequitur. “You speak of things you do not understand.”
“I understand that, in Lon Lerésh, daughters are prized above wealth and power, regardless of their sire. A daughter is a blessing of the Maker, and a fondness for one’s daughter is expected. True love for one’s consort, however, is cause for concern, a possible weakness.”
Erisial laughed. “It is no secret that I care for Serunius. He has been invaluable in helping me achieve my goals. His mind intrigues me, and he is a superb champion and an attentive lover. He knows his place, though, and he expects no more.”
“You love Serunius but cannot admit to it for fear of others discovering your weakness. In fact, I think you would do anything for him. You did not challenge Yserria for the torque because you would not risk losing him in a challenge against me.”
“You think too highly of yourself,” she snapped.
“Perhaps it is you who thinks too highly of me. The target you place on my back frees you and Serunius from plots against you, and you expect me to fend off all your enemies. You would never consider claiming Serunius as your husband because you would be immediately overthrown and killed—both of you. You want Serunius to know how you feel, though, so you have sacrificed your greatest love for him.” He nodded toward a wide-eyed Celise. “She is not his daughter, so you have disowned her and treated her with disregard and antipathy, all in a bid to prove to him your love.”
“That is absurd.”
“It is no coincidence that on the very night you announce your intention to claim me, you arranged for her attack. She might have been raped, your personal sacrifice to appease your guilt over claiming another man.”
“I did no such thing,” she said with a quick glance at her consort.
“You do not have to deny it. Serunius already knows. In fact, it is his own guilt over your treatment of your daughter that has led him to be so protective of her. He has never been far when she has been in my presence, but I wager it was he who assigned her to serve my party. It was also his idea for her to serve us here today, was it not? He has been arranging for her to serve in positions of honor far above the station you assigned her, giving others the impression that you secretly care for her.”