“I have forgiven her,” said Esofi. “She cannot help her nature.” The kitten pressed up against her décolletage, and Esofi allowed him to stay there. “Or did you mean for me to hate her forever?”
“Not forever,” said Lexandrie. “Just until she is well and truly sorry. No more than a year.”
Esofi sighed. “I said I have forgiven her, not that I trust her. But to be angry with her now would only exhaust me. We are going to be together for a very long time, and I would like for it to be pleasant if at all possible. Perhaps she is hoping for the same thing.”
“I don’t like it,” sulked Lexandrie. “Why has she suddenly decided she wants to court you? Why did she not come to that realization before prompting one of her friends to challenge you in public? It defies reason.”
“I do not know,” admitted Esofi. “Perhaps tomorrow we can speak, and she will tell me for herself.”
“Or perhaps she is merely a fool,” Lisette suggested dryly.
“Yes, you have all made your opinions known.” Esofi sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s a note in the basket?”
“Only dishes,” reported Mireille, withdrawing two silver bowls, one for food and the other for water. “We’ll have to get the servants to bring sand, if you truly do mean to keep it.”
“I do,” said Esofi, running her hand along the kitten’s almost comically fluffy tail. “I suppose I must also think of a name.”
“Is it a male or a female?” asked Mireille.
“A male, I think,” Esofi said. “But I am not entirely certain. Why did she not leave a note?”
“Perhaps she is illiterate,” suggested Lexandrie, who had now taken a seat as far away from Esofi as she could get without actually leaving the room.
“I very much doubt that,” said Esofi. “But even if she did not wish to apologize, I would have liked more information about the breeder.”
“Perhaps it is part of her plan to get you to speak with her again,” suggested Mireille. “She said she wanted to see you at breakfast tomorrow. I think she may be worried that she has lost your heart forever.”
“But why does she suddenly want it?” mused Esofi. “That is the true question, is it not?”
“Perhaps she is only pretending,” said Lexandrie flatly. “Perhaps her mother has threatened her if she does not win you.”
Esofi glared. “And that would be the only reason for someone trying to win me, wouldn’t it?”
“I didn’t say that!” Lexandrie protested. “I am only being realistic, since you seem determined to make everything so romantic! I find it far more likely that Their Majesties have told her she will be disinherited if she loses you!”
“They would not do that to their only remaining child,” said Esofi.
“You don’t know that!” cried Lexandrie. “You have only seen of them what they’ve allowed you to see! For all we know, they could be cruel or vicious or—”
“Lexandrie, enough,” said Esofi firmly. “I am too tired for bickering.”
“Fine!” Lexandrie got up. “I am withdrawing for the evening. Good night to you all!” She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.
“She’s not angry at you, but on your behalf,” Mireille assured her. “Worry not. Tomorrow her attitude will have improved; I am certain of it.” She reached over to pet the kitten again, babbling nonsense at him and trying to coax another soft mew out. “What should we name him? Creme? Sugar?” Mireille smiled brightly. “But that sounds as though I mean to eat him.”
“Give me until morning,” said Esofi. “If something has not come to me by then, you may pick the name.” Mireille’s face lit at the declaration. Esofi scratched the kitten behind the ears and felt a gentle rumbling from deep within his throat.
“Good night, then, Princess,” Mireille said, rubbing the kitten’s little face once more. “I think we will all feel better after a good night’s rest.”
She got up and left the room as Lexandrie had, though this time it involved no slamming of doors. Esofi thought of her own waiting bed and rose to her feet. Perhaps it was only because she was too tired to dwell too deeply on it, but she seemed to feel just a little bit less hurt.
Esofi awoke the next morning with the kitten asleep on her face. She carefully lifted him away, which got a few squeaks of annoyance, and set him back down on the opposite pillow.
Esofi was not yet sure how her failure to sign the contract yesterday would affect her schedule. She’d really been hoping to take a tour of Birsgen’s medical facilities today. The court mage had explained to her that the Ieflarians had turned to strange practices in order to give medical care. The court mage had called it “science,” which Esofi didn’t like the sound of at all.
But if Their Majesties summoned her to sign the agreement, she might have to put off the tour, and that was not something Esofi wanted to do.
The court mage was an Ieflarian man named Arran Eads, who seemed to be trying to make the best of an impossible situation. Officially, he was meant to be the liaison between the Temple of Talcia and the royal court. In Esofi’s opinion, he had not been properly educated and, therefore, could not really be relied upon in the same way she could Henris or any of the court mages back home. He was still one of the most powerful Ieflarian mages in existence, but that really wasn’t saying much. Neither of his two apprentices seemed to be particularly skilled either.
Archmage Eads didn’t actually spend much time worrying about magic, though. When he’d spoken to Esofi, he’d tried to tell her some nonsense about how they’d started telling the peasants to boil water and this had somehow done something to decrease the rate of sickness and infection. None of it made any sense, and it honestly sounded like desperate superstition.
The battlemages really were Esofi’s first priority, and she was scheduled to meet again with Their Majesties’ military commanders to discuss their placement, but she knew better than to neglect the healers entirely. That day, she would go to the Temple of Adranus and see precisely what was going on there.
Adranus was the God of Death first and foremost, so it confused Esofi to learn that he was associated so strongly with healing in Ieflaria. Back home, he was restricted to his domain of Death, and healing came from his daughter, Adalia. But apparently, Adalia’s name was not so well known here, and it was the priests of Adranus who had turned to other avenues in order to tend to the sick and dying. Archmage Eads had used such strange words: surgery, bacteria, sterilization.
In Esofi’s opinion, it was edging near to blasphemy. Taking fate into one’s own hands was particularly ill-advised, and only time would tell if Esofi would be forced to order the entire temple to be shut down. Hopefully, it would not come to that. She had a feeling the priests meant well and weren’t even aware they had strayed so far from the path of righteousness.
Perhaps after they had fixed the magical situation in Ieflaria, she could focus her attentions on encouraging the people to return to relying upon healing magic, rather than confusing nonsense. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too difficult. Despite her strong convictions, she didn’t want to make enemies of anyone, not even the priests of Adranus.
Esofi put those worries out of her mind and dressed for the day. She wore a slightly more elaborate dress than she’d been choosing for the past few days. She was already growing tired of the dreary attire worn by the Ieflarian people, mourning or not. And for some reason, which might or might not have been related to the duel yesterday, she felt like being impressive. The gown she selected was a bright sky-blue color, with layers of lace and ruffles drawing emphasis to the sleeves, bust, and skirt. Her ladies wove silk flowers into her curls, which were pinned up.