“Blessings?” Sorrow had spoken to him to give her something to do while Rasmus passed, but her curiosity was piqued. She didn’t know what blessings were.
The room began to empty, those not invited to the private part of the ceremony eager to find the wine and toast Aralie’s health, and Harcel gestured for her to follow the crowd outside.
“Yes. You know that some Rhyllians have abilities?” he asked, steering her to where a table had been set up beneath a large tree and glasses were being filled. Sorrow picked up a glass and handed it to him, taking one for Luvian until she saw he’d been waylaid by Fain Darcia, so she kept it for herself and allowed Harcel to find a space for them, away from the main throng hovering near the door.
“I do, of course.”
“Well, it’s tradition in Rhylla to ask those whose abilities you find particularly admirable, or worthy, to bless your child, in the hope it will foster a good ability in them.” He took a sip of his wine, and Sorrow did the same. “Of course, that’s not how it works. These days only one in seven Rhyllians has an ability, and it doesn’t follow a logic. Fathers without an ability can have children with one, a pair of twins might find one has an ability, one does not.” He turned and looked around the room. “There, see.”
Sorrow followed the gesture of his glass to where Aphora now stood with Vespus, and the man who’d been with them at the bridge all those months ago. Her brother, Melakis.
“Twins,” Harcel continued. “The girl has a gift, but her brother doesn’t. And yet they were both blessed by the same people, born to the same parents. We’re not a naturally discriminatory race, and yet the abilities do mark differences that sometimes have an impact. Melisia would tell you otherwise, but then who discriminates against a queen? No, she’s fine. But some of us are less valued, in some circles, for our lack of ability.”
He looked across the room to where Eirlys was standing with Rasmus, the pair doing their best to be subtle as they poured something from a flask subtly into their drinks. Starwater, she assumed. They toasted each other and drank, Eirlys sucking an ice cube into her mouth, grinning at her cousin, whose lips curved in response.
As Sorrow watched, Eirlys trailed a hand over the back of a chair, leaving a patina of ice crystals in its wake. So she could wield coldness, Sorrow deduced. Not really useful in a land that bordered the Svartan sea at the north, but probably in demand over high summer.
When Sorrow looked back at Harcel, there was a wistfulness on his face, and Sorrow wondered whether it was for the girl, or her ability – she noticed he had mentioned no ability of his own.
“I’m surprised Her Majesty didn’t choose Lord Corrigan and his son to bless Aralie, given that they’re family,” Sorrow said carefully.
Harcel frowned. “Well, healing isn’t one of the most sought-after gifts. There are pills and potions that can alleviate pain as well as what Rasmus can do.”
He was jealous, Sorrow realized. So it was the princess Eirlys he liked.
“No,” Harcel continued. “Her Majesty and the prince consort will have chosen carefully who gives the blessings, and it would never have been Rasmus or his father.”
Sorrow kept her voice light and level as she replied. “Really? I suppose because Lord Vespus is only Melisia’s half-brother? And so Rasmus is only a half-cousin?”
“It’s nothing to do with that,” Harcel was dismissive. “None of the blessers are related to Aralie. It’s political, Miss Ventaxis – something you must understand given your new situation. It’s all about appearance and meaning. Who they’ve chosen sends a message about who’s in favour, and also what qualities they have decided are to be celebrated. Rasmus resigned his role in your country and left without warning. The queen isn’t happy with him.”
Sorrow’s chest tightened guiltily. It was her fault Rasmus wasn’t in favour right now. But, she realized, Harcel had said Vespus wasn’t in favour either. Was this because of the Alvus farm, or something more? Did Melisia suspect what her brother was trying to accomplish with Mael in Rhannon?
“True,” she replied. “But what has Lord Vespus done?”
Harcel gave her a sharp look, though whatever response he’d been about to make was lost to the fanfare as Melisia, Caspar, the baby and three other Rhyllians left the ruins and joined them in the courtyard. The guests broke into applause, and Sorrow looked at the three Blessers: a Rhyllian woman with the white hair of old age, a younger woman who stood proudly, meeting the eye of anyone who looked at her, and a young man who looked both thrilled and terrified simultaneously, his pale skin alternately flushing pink and then blanching white as he gazed at the queen and then the clapping crowd.
When the cheering had died away, Melisia spoke, first in Rhyllian, then again in the languages of those gathered.
“We will now adjourn back to our rooms to rest, relax and celebrate in private before the ball tonight. We look forward to seeing you there,” Melisia finally said, working her way through the spectrum of languages her guests spoke.
When the royal party, including Eirlys, left, Harcel visibly slumped.
“I’ll see you at the ball,” he said, sloping off after them, joining a group of laughing Rhyllians.
Sorrow looked around for Irris, but couldn’t see her. Then Luvian appeared by her side, an odd look on his face.
“Have you seen Irris?” Sorrow asked.
“She was talking to Rasmus earlier. Maybe she went to start getting ready for tonight.”
Sorrow blinked. Surely Irris wouldn’t have left without her? What was wrong with the Days today? “Oh. Well where have you been?” she asked. “More breaking and entering?”
“How dare you besmirch my good name?” Luvian replied. “And, no, actually I was getting told off by Charon Day. I had to go to the bathroom, and when I came back it had started, so I sat next to him and he collared me afterwards. He’s not happy with me. I’d go as far as to say he’s outright furious with me. Apparently I’m not being paid to waste your time on a wild-goose chase.”
Sorrow swore. She’d meant to warn him Charon planned to speak to him but had forgotten.
“Sorry,” she said.
Luvian looked at her. “He’s wrong, you know. I mean, not totally. Obviously finding out who Mael really is isn’t enough on its own, and we know that. But that, combined with finding Beliss and getting her to admit she raised a stolen child given to her by Vespus, will be enough. And it will give him somewhere to return to afterwards. If we can match him to a missing child, and have Beliss’s confession, that’s enough.”
“So you think we should continue looking through the reports?”
Luvian nodded. “But Lord Day doesn’t need to know,” he added. “He made it very clear we were to stop.”
Suspicion made her narrow her eyes.