“And when will that be?” asked Svana, her tone mocking.
“Do you mean to court her then? Both of you?” demanded Adale, looking from one twin to the other. “If you’ve come all the way here for that, you’re wasting your time. She intends to become the queen of Ieflaria, and neither of you can give her that.”
“Perhaps,” said Svana, snapping open a fan and fluttering it. “Perhaps not.”
“There is no perhaps about it.” Adale could feel her face heating. “I am the crown princess.”
“And everyone knows how seriously you take your post,” retorted Svana.
“I must admit, I am surprised by your hostility,” added Brandt before Adale could respond. “We thought you’d be pleased to hand your responsibilities over to one of us. Or perhaps you are only being contrary to spite us.”
“Brandt,” said Radulfr sharply. “Mind your words.”
“We do not intend to steal anything or anyone away from the crown princess.” Svana addressed Adale’s parents. “We only wish to offer ourselves as alternatives. Either of us would be a more suitable spouse and regent.”
Adale’s parents exchanged looks, and she wondered if they would tell the twins to return home. But instead, Saski said, “We understand your concerns. But Princess Esofi has already agreed to an engagement with Adale. We do not intend to stray from this plan unless we have no alternatives.”
“But what if we do not?” Radulfr’s voice was soft, his eyes concerned. “Intentionally or not, Adale has dealt Princess Esofi a grave insult. We cannot be certain that Esofi means to sign a marriage contract, regardless of what she promises. I do not wish to seem as though I am seeking to seize power through my children—”
“I would not believe that you are,” said Dietrich.
Radulfr’s eyes shone with relief. “We cannot go on like this. We all know it. The dragons are growing more aggressive. Valenleht is filled with refugees from the surrounding coastline. If Princess Esofi can bring Talcia’s magic back to Ieflaria…” He looked at Adale. “Under normal circumstances, I would never recommend passing over a rightful heir. But if Esofi will agree to marry one of the twins, at least Ieflaria will not be forced to go without her magic.”
“But, wait,” protested Adale. “She hasn’t refused to marry me—that’s just speculation. She was ill that night. It wasn’t—”
“Then you’ve nothing to worry about, now do you?” interrupted Svana.
“This is ridiculous!” cried Adale. “Father. Mother. You cannot possibly—”
“Adale,” said King Dietrich heavily. “Your uncle is correct. We cannot afford to lose Princess Esofi. If she agrees to sign the marriage contract as it is now, then we will say nothing more about it. But if she refuses…”
“I do not believe she will,” Adale insisted. Both of the twins gave identical little laughs, and she turned on them. “Did you have something to contribute?”
“Nothing whatsoever,” said Svana in a light, airy voice.
If only they hadn’t been in the throne room, under the eyes of their parents and all the castle guards, Adale would have fought them both, simultaneously, if not simply for the joy of biting at flesh and tearing at hair. But Adale somehow managed to retain her composure.
“Very well,” she said. “If that is all?”
Her father gave a nod, and Adale did not wait to be formally dismissed. She was gone from the room in an instant. Minutes later, she found herself walking the familiar path back to her room.
She would need help, that much was certain. She knew her cousins would not wait to hear Esofi’s opinion on the marriage contract before they began courting her. And if the twins planned to formally court Esofi, that meant Adale would need to do the same. That meant gifts, flowers, and sweets and… Adale wasn’t certain what else. She wasn’t really one for formal courtship. Perhaps one of her mother’s ladies could tell her the specifics. She knew it required gifts, though. And there might have been something about handkerchiefs involved.
Her mother’s ladies would know. She would ask them immediately.
Adale raised a hand to her hair. Perhaps her appearance could do with some improvement too. Adale did not really think there was anything wrong with the way she looked, but compared to her cousins…
Adale forced herself to return to reality. She’d been acting as though she meant to marry Esofi and become the queen of Ieflaria. But she still wasn’t certain that was what she wanted.
She was running out of time. Sooner or later, she would have to choose.
Adale thought once again of giving up her place in the succession and running off to start a new life. But for some reason, instead of relief, all she felt was a heavy sense of shame.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the sight of a man and a woman who were pressed against the wall, lips locked together in a kiss. She immediately recognized the man as one of the castle footmen—Audo, his name was. But the woman was unfamiliar. From her dress, Adale would have guessed that she was one of the royal huntsman’s assistants, but Adale knew all of the huntsman’s staff by name.
At the sound of Adale’s incredulous half laugh, the woman pulled away from the man and ran off down the hall. Adale looked at Audo, who was still pressed against the wall, looking dazed.
“I don’t even know who she was!” he protested when Adale raised her eyebrows.
Adale gave a snort and continued on her way, her mind already back to Esofi. In Adale’s experience, people like Esofi were almost unattainable when one considered the amount of trouble one must go to in order to win them. Who would want to spend their energies at such a task when there were plenty of others, men and women alike, who did not need nearly as much effort in order to be persuaded?
And yet, Adale was looking forward to bringing her flowers. When had that happened? How had it happened?
Am I just being selfish? Selfish behavior was not unusual for her, but according to her parents’ philosophy, giving up her freedom to marry Esofi was the height of selflessness. But Adale was less convinced. What if she had merely traded one fixation for another?
No. It is not the same. I wanted to run away so I could be happy. I want to marry Esofi so she can be happy or at least happier than she’d be with the twins. It will make me happy too, but that’s not the reason I’m doing it…
…is it?
Adale glanced up and realized she was not standing in front of her own bedroom door, as she’d intended, but in front of Albion’s. Her breath caught in her throat at the realization.
Adale rested her hand against the familiar wooden door. If she pretended, she could make herself believe that he was in there, just waiting for her to knock, and then he’d let her in and she’d explain everything and he’d laugh at the funny parts and get serious about the parts that were serious, but then when she was done explaining, he’d smile warmly and say that there was no need to worry because he knew exactly what to do and what to say and…
She tried the door. It was locked, and for some reason, that made her want to cry. She crouched down and tried to peer into the keyhole.
“It should have been me,” she whispered into the lock. “Nobody would have missed me.”
There were things, Adale knew, that people said at every funeral about the deceased. Even if the man in the casket was a drunkard who’d never worked a day in his life, upon his death, he would become the noblest soul in the entire kingdom, cruelly ripped away from his family and friends at such a young age. “Such a kind man!” they would all say to each other. “Kinder than any I’d ever met. Have you ever known such a gentle heart? And so wise, for someone so young. He was the best of his parents’ children. He would have been a great man, if only, if only…”
They were the lies that had been told at every funeral since the beginning of time.
But they had not been lies when they’d said them about Albion.