“But what if not betraying me requires you to betray your lord father?” he had asked her wistfully, his eyes settling on her with compassion. “I would not ask you to do that, child. Your first allegiance must be to your Family.”
Then he had told her what he could of the complicated situation. As she knew, her parents had been married by irrevocare sigil. Only Maia’s mother had grounds to dissolve the marriage, but if she were to relinquish her claims as the king’s wife and queen, Maia would be disinherited formally and forever. Her banishment would become permanent, as fixed as an irrevocare sigil itself. The queen would not do that.
So the king was trying to dissolve the union politically and divorce her according to the laws of the Dochte Mandar. That would mean bringing Comoros under the power of the Chief Scribe of Naess, and the maston Families of the realm were against such an extreme measure, for it would give the Dochte Mandar unprecedented authority in the realm.
So a trial had been ordered to take place in Comoros to legally disavow the marriage. Only there was one problem. The queen refused to attend. She had claimed the right of sanctuary at Muirwood Abbey, and as a maston herself, she could not be forced to leave the grounds, no matter how much her husband blustered or threatened her.
Maia rubbed her shoulders, trying to suppress the shivering. Her soul was full of blackness and evil thoughts. She was proud of her mother, proud of her strength and her convictions. But Maia herself had no ability to claim the rights of sanctuary. She was a political pawn. Her mother had asked repeatedly for Maia to be sent to Muirwood to visit her, but each request was refused.
The king had threatened to march an army to Muirwood to take her by force, thereby breaking another maston oath, but the noble Families of the realm refused to acquiesce or obey the summons should he choose to make good on his threat. More and more of the ancient Families withdrew from court and stayed in their own Hundreds. In their place, a web of courtiers had emerged to insinuate themselves into her father’s good graces and sow discord in his ears. Lady Deorwynn’s Family were chief among these.
So it had been arranged for the trial to take place at Muirwood itself, where the Aldermaston of Muirwood would preside over it. Maia would have given anything to attend. The bitter feelings between her parents were creating a rift in the kingdom. It was doing the same thing to her heart.
She stared out the windows, enormous dread weighing down on her, and watched as a single rider entered the castle bailey down below. Her heart shuddered with the premonition of the news, and she set down the tome and began to pace the tower, wringing her hands and feeling sick enough to vomit.
There was a commotion on the stairs below, and she heard the clud of many boots ascending the tower. Were these soldiers coming to arrest her? She felt herself go pale with fear, and she tugged at her sleeve nervously. Before she had the chance to act, the door opened. She saw the felt hats of the soldiers first, followed by the maston swords belted to their waists. They were knights! She stared at them in surprise, and some of them gave her puzzled looks in return.
“What are you doing here, Lady Maia?” one of them asked.
“Who is it?” came a voice from lower down the stairwell.
“The king’s daughter.”
Maia swallowed as a middle-aged man reached the top of the steps. He wore a fine fur cloak, a green satin doublet, and—most importantly—the gold chain of the office of chancellor around his neck. Her eyes widened. What had become of her friend?
“Greetings, Lady Maia,” the newcomer said, bowing quickly. “Ah, here to welcome me to my chamber.”
“My lord, forgive me,” she stuttered, her mind whirling end over end. “I was anticipating—”
“Walraven’s return, no doubt. Yes, you were close to him, I daresay. He was fond of you as well, to be sure. Well, this creates an awkward moment, but we will survive it. Your father has named me as lord chancellor of the realm.”
She stared at him in blank shock.
He smiled benignly at her look. “We have not met, Lady Maia, but let me remedy that. I am Tomas Morton.”
“I know you by reputation, my lord,” Maia said, surprised. “You are a lawyer in the city and famous for your writings on ancient maston customs. You wrote a treatise on the reign of Lia Demont and the unified kingdom she ruled when the mastons fled these shores.”
He smiled at the tribute and bowed again. “No doubt your highness has not read the book yourself, as women are forbidden to read, but I have sympathy for you there, for Lia Demont was not allowed to read until she was older.”
“It was read to me,” Maia said sheepishly. It was a half lie. She had read the book herself too.
“Well, perhaps we can discuss it someday. But greetings aside, I did not expect to find you up here upon my return from the trial at Muirwood.”