“I wouldn’t have expected it otherwise. You’ve told the girls we’ll be having company at dinner?”
“I did. I told them that Maeroja’s consort had just died, and that they need to be very kind because he was a special man, and she loved him very much.” Emerya smiles, although the smile is for her daughter and niece.
“Isn’t she special, too?” asks Ryalah.
Behind the younger girl, Amaira nods.
“She is,” replies Lerial.
The palace bells are striking fifth glass when Maeroja enters the salon, the mourning scarf draped more widely across her shoulders.
Even before she has taken three steps into the chamber, Kiedron and Xeranya follow her.
“I’m so glad you could join us,” offers Xeranya as Maeroja turns to face the couple.
“I do so appreciate your courtesy and kindness,” replies Maeroja.
Lerial translates those words to mean his mother’s courtesy and his father’s kindness.
“We could do no less for you, given all that you have done for Lerial and all the majer did for me,” replies Kiedron.
Lerial senses that his father’s voice has almost caught. That surprises him, but he adds, “I cannot say how much I appreciate how at home you both made me feel.”
“What will you have?” asks Kiedron, stepping toward the refreshments table.
“The lager, if you please.”
“I’d be more than pleased,” replies the duke cheerfully.
Lerial turns to his mother.
“The white wine, thank you.”
As Lerial moves to the refreshments table, Emerya eases over to Maeroja and begins to speak. “It’s been years since we’ve talked, and I was hoping we’d have a chance…”
The interplay confirms to Lerial that dinner will be polite, punctuated by the attempts of Emerya, his father, and himself to bring warmth to the formality that will continue to be exuded by his mother.
IV
Dinner goes exactly as Lerial has expected—formal, with underlying tension, and with Kiedron, Lerial, and Emerya being as warm and cheerful as possible. When it is over, Emerya ushers the girls off to bed, and Lerial escorts Maeroja back to her quarters in the south wing of the palace. He can sense Maeroja’s relief as soon as they are away from the dining chamber and walking along the main front corridor.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“It’s not your fault. There are some things that must be, and it’s a small price to pay for years of happiness.”
“But it’s hard to pay after a loss.”
“That’s when it’s most important,” Maeroja murmurs softly. “Wasn’t it hard for you to talk to Elder Klerryt?”
Lerial is momentarily surprised, but realizes that the majer would certainly have told his consort. “Yes … but I wasn’t in love with Alaynara.”
“You knew exactly what I meant about what happened in Verdheln five years ago, Lerial. That should tell you something.”
He laughs softly, barely above a murmur. “I should never dispute you, Lady.”
“Do not make me more than I am. Do not do that to anyone … but do not make them less, either.”
Those were the majer’s words. He is still considering that when Maeroja speaks again.
“I will be leaving before sunrise tomorrow so that we can make Teilyn in a single day. I cannot keep Captain Shastan’s lancers any longer.”
“Nor would you, knowing what you know.”
“I do not know exactly what he wrote, Lerial, but I will add my own words. Do not make foolish sacrifices for others. Very few sacrifices of self are worth that price, because one who lives and strives can keep making the land a better place. Accomplishments end with death.”
“The majer said that it was better to have the enemy make the gallant sacrifices.”
“Sometimes, one must let friends or others close to one make the sacrifices.” She smiles wryly. “That can also become a rationalization for using others without care. It is far better to avoid useless sacrifices or those which gain little or sacrificing others in the same fashion. Most sacrifices are unnecessary and can be avoided. Too often those who send others into avoidable danger call their deaths necessary sacrifices. They usually are not. In the end, you will do what you feel you must.” She stops outside the door. “Thank you for walking with me.”
“Thank you for letting me. Do take care on the ride back … and give my best to your daughters.”
Maeroja offers the smile he has found so enigmatic. “I will.” Then she opens the chamber door and slips inside, closing it behind her.
Lerial can hear the latch bolt click into place. He turns and begins to walk back toward Emerya’s chambers—her new chambers, a sitting room with two bedrooms off it, reflecting how Amaira has grown.
When he reaches his aunt’s second-level quarters, he raps gently.
“You can come in, Lerial.”
Lerial does, closing the door quietly. He does not see anyone, nor does he order-sense anyone. Then, abruptly, Emerya is seated before a small hearth in which a low fire burns. “I’ve never been able to detect your concealments.”