Tension was never a good word when it referred to the King’s subjects. When there was tension, trouble followed.
Carys moved to the window and looked up at the palace windmills. The massive structures loomed above the white walls and cut through the backdrop of a darkening sky. The sound of their churning was the accompaniment to life in Garden City. Carys could hear their pulsing hum now, but could the blades be moving less speedily than in the past? Andreus would be able to tell. He’d made studying the windmills and the power they created his life’s work. The orb—the light that sat high atop the tallest tower of the palace—used his design. The light was supposed to welcome all who wished to add their talents to strengthen the kingdom and promised safety in its glow, because the things that hid in the darkness could never triumph when there was a light powered by virtue pushing them back.
Her twin had helped build the newest light, but even he had known that the brightest orb would never banish the darkness completely—no matter how big it got or how hard the windmills turned.
Andreus would know if there were a problem with power production. Without her brother’s knowledge, all Carys could say was that the hallways and great rooms in the palace were still illuminated just as brightly by the wind-powered light. Not that it mattered. Lack of power in the palace would cause little inconvenience; down here in the city, it would lead to much larger problems.
“Where is the tension greatest?” The gown rustled as Carys turned her back to the window.
“A few of the millers have expressed some upset, but Father has given them some of our wind power allotment. That has helped quiet the loudest of the complaints.” Larkin helped Carys out of the formal gown and into the next dress. “But there are still whispers, and those whispers are getting louder with every day.”
“What do the whispers say, Larkin?”
Larkin bit her lip and sighed. “The whispers say the cold is coming. The days are getting shorter and the Xhelozi will be waking to hunt if they haven’t come out of slumber already. People are making offerings at the old shrine to keep the winds blowing—especially now that we have so few guardsmen to keep the walls safe if there is an attack.”
“I thought most people avoided the shrine.” The first of Eden’s seers had ordered it constructed to give citizens a place to appeal directly to the Gods in times of struggle—and they had, until five years ago. A cyclone had appeared above the castle, and though the seer drove the wind tunnel back into the mountains, he warned that the deadly winds had been an answer to a careless request made at the sacred site. After that, the common people stayed away. Only the most troubled were driven to visit the grove on the edge of the city.
“They did, Highness.” Larkin sighed. “But that was before, when the old seer was alive and there was enough wind power in the city. The new seer is lovely, but they wonder how someone who looks as if she can be blown over by the wind can possibly have the power to control it. Those who visit the shrine say they are trying to send her strength.”
“And those who aren’t visiting the shrine? What are they saying?”
“They say your family and the Council have put us all in danger by installing Lady Imogen as Eden’s seer. They are wondering if your family truly wishes to keep Eden safe.”
Carys stiffened. “Do they speak of the Bastians?”
“Not where I can hear them,” Larkin assured her. “A new seer is bound to make people nervous, especially as the first cold season approaches, but those I have talked to trust Prince Micah to keep the kingdom safe. They know he would not be planning to wed Lady Imogen if he wasn’t convinced of her skills. Once they are wed and the warm months return, things will settle down.”
Carys forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right. I value your thoughts on this.”
Larkin looked at Carys. “But if you don’t mind me asking, Highness, what are your thoughts of our seer? All anyone in town knows for sure is that she is young and lovely.”
In the shifting shadows cast by the candlelight, Carys stepped into the next garment. Careful not to meet Larkin’s gaze, Carys pictured the dark-eyed oracle who moved through the castle as quiet as a ghost but seemed to be everywhere and see everything.
“She’s . . . smart,” Carys offered. It was no lie. On the rare occasion Imogen spoke of matters other than the wind and the stars, her future sister showed vast knowledge of the kingdom’s history and the inner workings of the castle.
“And she’s dedicated,” Carys added. In the six months since the seer had been summoned from the Guild to court, Imogen had spent several hours of each day on the battlements, either in meditation with the stars or in consultation with the Masters in charge of the windmills.
“My father and the Council believe Lady Imogen has great power.”
“I didn’t ask what they thought, Highness.” Larkin pulled the laces of the white-and-rust dress tight. “I asked about you.”
Carys shrugged and turned again to the looking glass. Her long pale hair glowed almost silver in the shifting light. “I have not spent enough time alone with Imogen to know her well.” Or to trust her.
“Has Andreus spent much time with her?”
Carys looked hard at her friend. “Why do you ask about Andreus? Have there been whispers in the city about the two of them?”
Her brother’s study of the windmills was almost as well known to the people of the kingdom as his other hobby.
Larkin took a step back. “I meant no offense, Highness. There has been no gossip about Lord Andreus and Lady Imogen. Only about how quickly she charmed Prince Micah.”
Carys let out a breath in relief. Her twin wasn’t known to have many boundaries when it came to attractive women, and many of the women he encountered seemed to have even fewer than he did. While she did her best to stand by her brother, there were some things she couldn’t protect him from: first and foremost, himself.
Larkin looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then she shook her head and asked instead about the details of the upcoming wedding. Carys was happy to switch the conversation to talk of the ceremonies and balls and tournaments that would be held in the royal couple’s honor in the glow of Eden’s orb. With the cold coming and the expense of the war looming, the Council of Elders had suggested the festivities stay within the castle walls. Her father had agreed with the Council, but Micah refused to accept their decision since everyone in the kingdom would hear of the lack of typical amusements. They would speculate about the depth of the Council’s support for the Crown Prince and his betrothed, or whether the descendants of the exiled House of Bastian might be the Elders’ true choice for the throne.