“I should like to hear you play someday, then,” said Svana. “And perhaps I can sing for you in return.”
Adale’s blood flashed hot at the suggestion. For all her cousin’s faults, she could not criticize Svana’s unspeakably and infuriatingly beautiful voice. Valenleht was a port city, and Svana had been trained by the Mer. If there was any woman on the continent with the power to make others fall in love with her with her voice alone, Svana was that woman.
But she kissed me. Twice.
“I would like that, I think.” Esofi was smiling serenely. “I only wonder where my violin is. The servants put all my belongings in such odd places after I arrived. My ladies are still finding my stockings.”
“Oh, these servants.” Brandt rolled his eyes. “Useless, the lot of them. Now, at our estate, we have a fine staff that has served our family loyally for generations. If you saw the difference, you would flee Birsgen in horror.”
“Here, you!” cried Svana to the nearest servant in a high, sharp voice, as though she was commanding a dog. “Bring my mandolin.” She smiled at Esofi. “It’s such a lovely day. I’ll play something for you, and then you can do the same.”
“Oh.” Esofi was beginning to look a bit overwhelmed. “Adale, do you play?”
“No,” admitted Adale. “I had lessons on the pianoforte when I was young, but nothing ever came of it.”
“Crown Princess Adale is not so accomplished as one would expect for a woman of her status,” said Svana gleefully. “You should see her try to dance.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Esofi.
“Oh no, it is,” Brandt assured her.
“Well, I think it is unfair to expect anyone to be accomplished in all things,” Esofi murmured. “After all, we all have some area in which we are lacking.”
“Even you, Princess?” Svana asked. “I refuse to believe it.”
Esofi laughed, a tinge of pinkness showing on her cheeks.
“On the subject of dancing,” said Brandt, “Svana and I have been away from court for so long, we’ve missed the grand balls of Birsgen. We wish to host one in a few days’ time and would be honored if you would attend, Princess Esofi.”
“Oh!” said Esofi. “That does sound lovely. I’ve not been to any Ieflarian parties yet.”
“Then I expect you will be impressed,” said Svana.
“A ball, during mourning?” interjected Adale. “Don’t you think that’s disrespectful?”
“I don’t see how it’s any different than running around in the forest getting drunk and killing animals,” retorted Svana sharply. “Besides, the mourning period is practically over. Don’t pretend like you aren’t as tired of it as the rest of us.”
Adale wasn’t sure what was more infuriating—Svana’s disregard for Albion’s death or the fact that she was completely correct in her assessment that Adale wanted to be done with it.
Biting back the worst of her rage, she merely said, “You will look ridiculous in a black ball gown. Like a widow.”
“Then we shall not burden you with an invitation,” Svana snapped, her hands clenching into fists. She wanted to fight just as much as Adale did, but they could not—not with Esofi looking on. Fortunately, a servant finally arrived with Svana’s mandolin, and the argument was dropped.
“Here, do you know many Ieflarian songs?” asked Svana, her fingers gliding over the strings as if by instinct, picking out a familiar tune. “I’m afraid I don’t know any of Rhodia.”
“A few…” began Esofi, but Svana was already playing. It was a slow, melancholy tune that Adale only half recognized, not at all the traditional love ballad she’d been expecting. Svana began to sing, her sweet, high voice mournful.
“Once upon a midnight
When I was far from home
I wandered through the wilds
And thought myself alone
The mountain flowers were blooming
In spite of snow to be
And there I saw her walking
Her cloak swept o’er the leaves
Her eyes were like the evening
T’were stars beneath her skin
And when her lips did touch mine
I felt her light within.
And now that it is winter
With no work to attend
Perhaps I shall go walking
And meet her once again.”
Esofi was leaning forward, one elbow rested on the table. Her eyes were soft as she listened, and Adale felt her hatred for her cousin simmer away into something softer, at least for a moment.
“ESOFI HAS GIVEN us her answer,” said Saski.
Adale stood before her parents in their room once again. Two days had passed since the arrival of the twins, but only now had her mother and father summoned her to speak with them privately.
“Her answer?” Adale repeated. “To the betrothal? What does she say?”
Saski gave a small sigh and looked at Dietrich.
“What?” cried Adale.
“She has said that she does not wish to make her decision lightly,” said Saski. “And given the circumstances, I find I cannot blame her. She says she is considering your cousins, and I could do nothing to dissuade her.”
“What?” Adale could not help but feel betrayed. She had really thought Esofi had been starting to like her. They had read Albion’s letters together and shared their fears of the future. Esofi had kissed her! What more could anyone—
“Listen to me,” said Saski sharply. “She says she will announce her choice at the end of the mourning period. Your father and I will host a ball on that day, one that she cannot possibly refuse to attend. She will announce her decision there, and the contract will be signed on the spot. In the meantime, you will do nothing to jeopardize this.”
“If you hate the twins, send them home!” cried Adale.
“I cannot, do you realize that?” asked Saski. “If she refuses to marry you, she must marry someone. They are the most suitable candidates.”
Adale put her face in her hands. “I thought I was doing well. I really did.”
To her surprise, it was Dietrich who put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“We have noticed that you are spending time with Princess Esofi,” he said. “And we appreciate the effort you are making. But you must understand: in her eyes, your romantic compatibility is only a secondary concern. Esofi has been raised to be a queen. She will choose the partner who will make the best co-regent. Regardless of her personal feelings.”
“Then I don’t have a chance,” said Adale. She resolved to get in as many kisses as she could in the meantime, just to spite whichever of her cousins Esofi ultimately chose.
“We do not believe so,” said Saski. “What your father and I see in you is far more impressive than what we see in your cousins.”
“Being nice to servants isn’t enough to run a country!” protested Adale.
“It is not merely kindness, Adale,” said Saski. “It is their knowledge that you see them as Men, rather than slaves or cattle. What the Xytan Empire did to us has not quite faded from our collective memories. And you must realize that many of our citizens see the nobility as unapproachable and distant, despite our best efforts. Oftentimes, they are afraid to tell us their true thoughts, so greatly have they venerated us. But you have never felt compelled to hide your true self. I believe you could connect with our people in a way that no one from the Verheicht line ever has before.”
“But Esofi knows so many more things,” said Adale. “She knows how to—to fight dragons and plan battles. She thinks about the dangers—”
“And you think about our people,” completed Saski. “You are not meant to have the same traits as Esofi, Adale. You are meant to balance her. Esofi comes from a nation that, if I may be blunt, is known for its poor opinion of commoners. She needs you beside her so she does not treat our people the way her mother treats the Rhodians.”
That was not the first time Adale had heard someone imply there was something amiss with Esofi’s mother. Remembering Esofi’s own words on the subject, she frowned deeply. “What do we know of the queen of Rhodia?”