“Haven’t you ever been in love?” asked Adale.
Esofi was taken aback, and she raised her head defiantly. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Wouldn’t you like to be in love with the one you marry?” Adale pressed.
“Well, yes,” said Esofi. “I suppose. Yes. If at all possible. But most couples of our station are married first, and grow to love one another afterward with Pemele’s guidance.”
“Some might be afraid to take such a risk.” Adale scuffed her shoe into the stone pathway awkwardly.
“Is it because you are in love with someone else already?” asked Esofi.
“Gods, no, Esofi!” Adale pressed her hands to her forehead. Her face began slowly turning red. “Is that what you think?”
“You just told me that you love Theodoar,” said Esofi.
“I do love Theodoar,” agreed Adale. “I love him as I loved Albion. But I am not in love with him. Is that what you thought?”
Esofi bit her lip and said nothing.
“I have been worried about you,” said Adale, her silver eyes staring into Esofi’s. “When your ladies told us that you wouldn’t be able to make it to the signing, I was afraid you were planning to leave Ieflaria forever. Then you weren’t at dinner, and you didn’t go to the evening service—”
“You went to a service?” interrupted Esofi, her eyebrows rising.
“Yes! Well…most of one,” said Adale. “I left before the closing rites. They’re always so dull! I don’t think anyone noticed.”
Esofi gave a quiet little sigh.
“My point, though,” said Adale, “is you’re so…you care so much for Ieflaria already. You only just got here, and you’re making all sorts of plans, and everyone’s convinced things are going to improve because of the battlemages, and I don’t know anything about anything and I’ve lived here all my life! I know when people talk about me, they say I’m an overgrown child. And it’s never bothered me before, not really. But when they talk about you…they say you’re going to be our queen. Nobody’s ever said that about me.”
“Do you want them to?”
“I don’t know!” Adale sounded anguished. “I don’t know—and even if they did, they would be wrong. I don’t know anything. I don’t even know what you’ve added to the marriage contract. I don’t know if it says I can never go riding again or drink excessively or if I have to be in by sundown—”
“What,” interrupted Esofi, “are you talking about?”
Adale didn’t respond right away. She seemed to be trying to catch her breath. “The marriage contract,” she said at last. “I know you added something to it. You mentioned it the other night. Something that wasn’t in your agreement with Albion.”
“And you believe that it is related to your conduct?” Esofi fought to keep her lips from curling into a smile. She wasn’t sure if she was successful or not.
“What else would it be?” reasoned Adale.
Esofi sighed. “The addition that was made to the marriage contract had nothing to do with you. If you’d only asked, I would have told you.”
Adale’s face changed. “What? But then, but then what could possibly be—”
“It was a grant,” said Esofi. “A one-time payment of one hundred thousand crowns for the establishment of a university for the teaching of magics, to be managed under the guidance of the Temple of Talcia. The university will also receive an additional ten thousand crowns for every year that follows, for the purpose of salaries and maintenance.”
Adale’s mouth fell open.
“We have a university in Rhodia, and it has served us well for hundreds of years,” Esofi explained, since Adale seemed to be having difficulty with words. “The battlemages I have brought are not immortal. Sooner or later, they will need to be replaced, and some may wish to return home. Constantly importing them from Rhodia would be wasteful when we could educate and hire Ieflarians.”
“You got one hundred thousand crowns out of my parents?” Adale whispered.
“It’s not spending money!” huffed Esofi. “Have you even been listening to me?”
“I’m listening! I’m not allowed to be impressed now?”
“Well, if you’re hoping that I mean to pocket some of it, let me tell you that you are sadly mistaken,” said Esofi. “As I indicated to you before, the worship of Talcia has been neglected for far too long in your country. My priority is to completely revitalize her temple here in Birsgen. It’s in shameful condition compared to the Temple of Iolar, or so I am told.”
“Oh,” said Adale.
“I would like the university to be built on the temple grounds as well,” continued Esofi. “If there is not enough land, I intend to purchase the surrounding properties in the temple’s name.”
“Oh,” Adale repeated. It seemed to be all she was capable of saying. “Well…”
“I am to visit the Temple of Adranus today,” continued Esofi. “I am told it is not far from the Temple of Talcia. So perhaps if the tour does not take up too much of my time, I will be able to speak with the archpriestess of Talcia. I think she will be glad for the news.”
“I’m sure she will,” said Adale. “And all of our temples are in the same area of the upper city, so it won’t be much trouble for you to go directly to Talcia from the hospital.”
Esofi nodded. “Yes. The…hospital.” She felt her lips press together in dismay at the word, strange and unfamiliar. “I fear the Temple of Adranus may have fallen to heresy. The things I have been told are…troubling, which is why I have chosen to prioritize it over my visit to Talcia’s temple. I sincerely hope that we won’t have to burn it.”
“Well, I think—” began Adale again. Then her brow furrowed. She looked Esofi in the eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I said, I hope we will not have to burn it,” repeated Esofi. “It would be a dreadful waste of resources.”
Adale’s mouth moved, but no words were forthcoming. Esofi waited politely for the crown princess to formulate a sentence. Finally, Adale said, “Have you spoken to my parents about your…uh, your concerns?”
“No,” admitted Esofi. She’d wanted to, especially after speaking to the archmage, but there had been no time. “Not yet. But surely they cannot be oblivious to what is happening.”
“Right,” said Adale, speaking very slowly. Esofi had the feeling that she was trying to pick her words carefully. “I wonder if I could trouble you to explain exactly what you’re worried about? Perhaps with an emphasis on why you believe the hospital needs to be burned?”
“Is it not obvious?” asked Esofi. “The priests of Adranus have rejected their duties as healers. Instead, they have turned to those grotesque practices that your court mage seems so impressed by. Cutting people open with knives and—and talking about tiny invisible creatures and all those other horrible things he told me.” Esofi shuddered, and then shook her head. “I cannot imagine Adranus condoning such barbaric practices.”
“The Temple of Adranus has made some incredible breakthroughs in the past years,” pointed out Adale with a frown. “As I said, we haven’t had a plague in… I don’t know. Decades. Maybe even a century.”
“Hm.” Esofi was unconvinced, but she was not in the mood for a fight, or at least not until she spoke to the archpriest and inspected the facility for herself. “Well, I shall make up my mind today.”
“Allow me to accompany you, then,” said Adale with more than a hint of urgency in her voice. “Please.”
Esofi pressed her lips together again. “It is a public establishment and so I can hardly stop you. But I didn’t think you cared for matters of theology.”
“It’s less the theology and more the burning down of important buildings,” said Adale. “I apologize if I seem to be harping on the subject, but—”
Esofi rolled her eyes. “You do not think I will act before consulting with Their Majesties, do you? If it is determined that the temple grounds need to be purified—”