“It is the truth,” said Theodoar. “I see your unhappiness. Everyone does. But you don’t have to marry her. Your parents wouldn’t be pleased, but they would not disown you. Let her have one of your cousins, and live your life the way you have always meant to.”
“Perhaps,” said Adale. But something still seemed to be holding her back. Was it her parents’ words or her memory of Albion? She had no idea how her brother had managed to live his life in the way he had, a perfect balance between obligation and revelry, never too rigid or too irresponsible. And he’d always been able to speak with their parents openly without angering them, an art Adale had never mastered.
He would have been…he would have been a good husband for Esofi, a good king for Ieflaria.
“You are still uncertain,” said Theodoar. “Why? What is there to debate?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Adale. “I can’t explain it. And becoming queen is only half of the problem. I’d have to marry a foreigner I barely know. And I know it’s foolish and selfish for a princess to expect she’ll be allowed to marry whoever she likes, but my parents always promised they’d let me pick for myself because—”
Because Albion was there to be the responsible one.
And now he was gone.
“At least speak to her,” Theodoar urged. “See if she would be open to breaking off the betrothal in favor of one of your cousins. And then we can leave for my parents’ estate before Their Majesties find out. We can hide out in the lodge if they send guards. And by the time we return, they’ll have forgotten their anger, and things will go back to the way they ought to be.”
“Perhaps,” said Adale, guilt filling her heart as she thought of her parents’ true opinion of the twins. Still, Theodoar sounded completely certain, and it was difficult not to smile when he seemed so optimistic. “I suppose it’s just…she seems so delicate. I do not wish to hurt her.”
“It’s not personal, Adale. It’s politics,” Theodoar reminded her.
“And if she refuses?” questioned Adale. “Do we just run anyway and hope for the best?”
“Perhaps,” said Theodoar, but now his eyes were distant with thought.
They rode back to the stables in silence. When they arrived, the young nobles were already making plans to go into the city and patronize a string of taverns. It was nothing too unusual, especially after a day like the one they’d had. But Adale found herself wanting nothing more than to fall into bed and forget the world for a few hours, and so she bid them all good night and began the journey back to her rooms.
As Adale dragged her feet across the carpets, she heard a burst of conversation in a language she didn’t understand, followed by some sweet, gentle laughter. She looked up and saw Esofi and all three of her waiting ladies walking toward her, moving slowly in their heavy Rhodian dresses. Esofi was dressed in a pale-blue gown with lacy white ruffles and white silk flowers sewn onto every available surface. There was even a tiny matching bonnet perched on the top of her curls.
Adale had never had a care for her appearance in her life, but now she felt oddly self-conscious in her riding clothes. She had no mirror, but she could only imagine how she must look to the ladies of Rhodia. Adale risked a glance down at herself, and saw with great relief that there did not appear to be any bloodstains on her coat or trousers.
“My lady!” Esofi had noticed her at last. “Have you just returned from your hunt?”
“I… Yes, Princess,” said Adale. Esofi came to a halt, leaving a few prudent steps between them. Esofi’s ladies were whispering to each other behind their fans, but the princess did not seem to notice. The smile on her round, earnest face seemed genuine, though Adale knew that it wasn’t a guarantee of anything.
“I hope nobody was injured?” pressed Esofi.
Adale shook her head. “No, everything was as planned.” She paused awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. Surely Esofi did not want to hear the details of how she’d killed the stag.
“I’ve been trying to learn the layout of the castle,” explained Esofi. “I do hate to trouble the servants for directions when they’re so busy. But I shall have it soon enough, I think.”
“Oh,” said Adale. “Well, uh…”
“I also met with Their Majesties today,” continued Esofi. “I’ve reviewed the marriage contract and found it to my liking. I suppose I will see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow?” repeated Adale, wondering if she was being dismissed.
“At the ceremonial signing,” prompted Esofi. When Adale said nothing, Esofi added, “Of the marriage contract.”
“Tomorrow?” Adale just barely kept a shriek out of her voice. “It’s so soon?”
“Surely my lady was informed,” said Esofi, worry entering her soft brown eyes for a moment. And now that she mentioned it, Adale did seem to recall her father’s squire, Ilbert, telling her something about something happening on some date, and her presence would be required, but…
“Oh.” Adale’s voice sounded as though she’d just been punched in the gut. “Naturally.”
Esofi did not look to be particularly reassured, and Adale supposed she could not blame her.
“I have also added some conditions of my own to the contract,” explained Esofi. Adale froze as her mind was flooded with one horrible scenario after the other. Had the princess added a personal code of conduct for Adale? A ban on drinking? Or hunting? Or riding? Or anything that wasn’t sitting quietly in prayer? “Their Majesties were quite happy with the additions.”
That cemented it for Adale. It was a ban on drinking!
“Oh.” Adale tried to remember if she had enough linens in her bedchamber to construct a rope long enough to climb out the window and flee Ieflaria forever. “Well, I…I should want to review that, then, I suppose…”
“I would like it if you did.” Esofi’s eyes were warm again. “We’ve had none of your input so far. I feel as though I’m marrying your parents, not you.”
Now was the time to mention her cousins, Adale realized with a small sinking feeling in her heart. She hadn’t wanted it to be like this, an abrupt declaration in a hallway, but things were moving so quickly. It might even be the only chance she ever got. If only there were more time!
How to phrase it, though? Adale was so clumsy with words. Surely, she’d find the worst possible way to convey the sentiment. And then Esofi would be so disappointed and hurt, and she might even cry, and then Esofi’s smallest lady, the one who looked like a snake transfigured into a girl, would step forward with venom spitting from her teeth and—
“Well,” said Esofi brightly. “We mustn’t be late for the sundown service. Good night to you, Crown Princess Adale.”
“I…but…yes.” Coward! Adale cursed herself. You worthless, worthless coward. “Good night, Princess Esofi.”
The ladies departed, leaving Adale standing there alone but for her racing heart.
Adale all but ran back to her rooms, hands trembling. It took a moment to open her door because the key kept missing the lock. Once inside, she hurried to her writing desk, which was seldom used, and searched the drawer for ink and paper. She took a few long breaths to settle herself and then composed a quick note.
Theodoar—
I have failed utterly. The signing of the marriage contract is to be tomorrow. I will not have enough time to propose our solution to the princess. Shall we go tonight? Respond quickly.
A
Adale folded and sealed the note with wax, blowing impatiently on it to make it cool faster. Once it was dry, or dry enough, Adale went out into the hallway and grabbed a passing page boy by the shoulder.
“Deliver this to Lord Theodoar immediately,” she ordered, shoving the note into his hand. “Return with a response tonight and there will be three gold coins in it for you.”