The page, who had probably been headed to the nightly service at the orders of whomever was in charge of him, brightened up and bolted off like a rabbit. Adale felt confident that even if Theodoar was not inclined to reply out of disgust for her failure, the page would badger him until he’d sent something in response.
Adale changed into her nightclothes simply to pass the time and paced around her quarters, occasionally stopping to rearrange some trophies. For some reason, her breathing was only coming in sharp, shallow bursts and her hands would not stop shaking. She was going to start kicking furniture over if she did not have a response soon.
The ringing of the bells signaled the start of the sundown service, but Adale ignored them. She’d always thought of the evening services as an even greater waste of time than the morning ones.
Since Albion’s death, Adale had barely set foot in the castle chapel or any of the great temples in Birsgen, except on certain holy days where the fight with her mother was more trouble than simply attending. She did not care. Everyone knew that the temples were corrupt, collecting mountains of tribute and speaking their own words in the place of long-absent gods.
At long, long last, the page boy returned. Adale gave him five coins instead of the promised three and tore the note open.
Adale
Fear not, I have a plan to buy us more time. Tomorrow, act as usual and speak as usual. I will take care of the rest. Trust me.
Theodoar
Adale read the note over a few times in shock. Theodoar did not wish to leave immediately? He had a plan? The idea of Theodoar with a plan left her feeling uneasy, and she hoped Esofi was not in any danger.
Adale turned the note over, scrawled the words What are you going to do? on the back, and gave it to the page boy. And though she waited all through the night, waking at every hour with her heart threatening to dance out of her chest, a reply never came.
AT THE RINGING of the morning bell, Adale tumbled out of bed and hit the floor with a soft thump. She stayed there for a moment, contemplating the possibility of throwing herself from the window and putting her suffering to an end. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Lady Lethea was somehow alert enough after last night’s revelries to hear that her lady was awake and stumbled in to help her.
Adale usually disdained having help when she was dressing, but that day, she was glad for the extra set of hands.
“You are not well at all,” observed Lady Lethea. “Is it the princess?”
“What else?” asked Adale. “And…I believe Theodoar may be planning something foolish.”
“That’s unusual only in that you have not been included in the preparations,” pointed out Lady Lethea.
“Perhaps,” said Adale. “But…I am worried. Though I suppose he would never harm someone.”
“Harm someone?” Lethea met Adale’s eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Adale.
“You truly aren’t well,” repeated Lethea, pressing her hand to Adale’s forehead. “All this worrying! Don’t you dare turn into your mother.”
That, at least, made Adale laugh. “Very well, you’ve persuaded me. Let’s go to breakfast. They will all be shocked to see us awake at this hour.”
So, leaving Daphene to sleep off her headache, they went down to the banquet hall where all meals were served. Adale had a feeling that Esofi would be there and was looking forward to a reassurance that the princess was unharmed and, hopefully, still oblivious to Theodoar’s plans.
Adale had never been early for breakfast before, let alone on time, so it was a bit of a novelty that the servants were setting everything out in preparation. Beside her, Lethea yawned.
“Why have I agreed to come here?” she murmured. A servant drew the heavy drapes open with a great flourish, flooding the room with morning light, and Lethea flinched as though he’d brandished a sword at her.
“Over here,” said Adale, heading for a seat that would give her a full view of the doors so that she might see Esofi the moment that she entered. Unfortunately, the meal would not begin until the arrival of Adale’s parents, and so there was no food to keep her occupied in the meantime.
As the minutes passed, Adale began to worry that Esofi had decided to take breakfast in her own rooms or that something had befallen her. But surely if something had happened to the princess, the servants would be talking about it?
Soon enough, Esofi and her ladies entered. As foreigners, they were the only ones not required to dress in the mourning colors, and their bright dresses stood out against the servants and nobles in their dull shades of black and gray and occasional purples. Adale was glad that the mourning period would soon be over. She felt that she shouldn’t have to be reminded of her brother’s death every time she looked at someone.
Esofi must have sensed Adale’s attention upon her and met her gaze with a bright smile. Her gown that day was a pleasant shade of palest pink with puffed sleeves that ended just below the shoulder to accommodate long gloves made of lace. The fabric of her skirt had been pulled up and twisted into bows around the knee, revealing a second layer of ivory skirts beneath, embroidered and trimmed with pearls. Esofi somehow managed to take her seat without ruining any of it.
But before Adale could speak to her, the doors opened again and Their Majesties entered. Adale reflected that she seldom actually saw her parents unless they needed to shout at her personally rather than via a squire or servant.
“Adale!” said Queen Saski, not bothering to hide the shock in her tone as she spotted her daughter at the table. Immediately, all eyes were upon her. Adale tried not to glower. “You’ve come to a meal! Or perhaps I have been poisoned and am in the throes of hallucination.”
“I’ve come for the meal, not for you,” retorted Adale, but her words were lost in the shuffle of places as everyone in the room moved so that Adale could sit by her parents. Adale protested every step of the way, but it was no use and eventually she found herself in the chair beside her mother.
At least she was a bit nearer to Esofi, not that she could say anything important to her with her parents so close.
Esofi seemed to be eating surprisingly little, and was more concerned with answering her mother’s questions than anything else. Adale forced herself to pay attention, but they didn’t actually seem to be discussing anything important, merely a tour of the city that Esofi hoped to take soon.
Adale realized that her attention had drifted back to Esofi’s face again. There was such a warmth and softness about her that Adale found herself feeling relieved that she hadn’t mentioned her cousins last night.
In fact, for some reason, she found that the idea didn’t seem quite as satisfying as it had the day before. Adale’s parents’ assessment of her cousins the previous morning had been frighteningly accurate. If one of the twins was allowed to sit on the throne, the entire castle staff might give notice. And what about Esofi?
Adale glanced over at the princess. It would be like a rabbit marrying a wolf. The palace staff might be able to hold their own for a while and always had the option of leaving to find better employment, but Esofi would be trapped forever. Could Adale really leave someone, even a stranger, to such a fate?
Perhaps…perhaps if Adale did marry Esofi, it wouldn’t be as bad as she was anticipating.
Adale gave her head a shake. Was she going mad? Even if Esofi made a pleasant bride, there was no way Adale would be anything other than the most shameful queen in Ieflarian history. She forced herself to remember the threats her father had listed: dragons, pirates, the Xytan legion. Adale did not have the fortitude to contend with such issues.
Breakfast came to an end with the departure of the king and queen, who first made Adale swear that she would be at the signing of the contract in front of all the important members of the court that afternoon. When they were finally gone, Adale and Esofi seemed to come to an unspoken agreement and walked from the hall together, their ladies trailing behind.