Dear Sarai,
We're all missing you back here in the Copper Isles. I won't pretend to be pleased you've eloped, but at least you've found happiness in Carthak. Mayhap your future's never been with us. We all knew, though, that you'd find some way to marry your man of choice. You'd never be forced into a marriage, would you, my sister? You, with your fiery, untamable spirit and your pure beauty.
Doubtless you've heard of the rebellion here. Junai and Ochobu's dead. And Ulasim. You never knew he was the Strong One in the prophecy, did you? And Ochobu's the Wise One. Fesgao's the Warrior and Aly's the Cunning One. You wouldn't believe the number dead to put me on the throne and fulfill Kyprioth's prophecy… Oh, Sarai, how can war be so cruel, snatching lives away as if it is worth nothing? All those mothers' mourning, all those children left to be orphans. Everyone's going to be wearing black till I'm crowned, and even then, they'll still be mourning in their hearts.
You won't be able to attend the coronation, Sarai. It's the day after Midwinter. It's going to be in the fashion Copper Isles' queens were always crowned…
Saraiyu Haiming Balitang's eyes skipped down to the signature at the bottom of the page. There, in her neat, flowing script, was the signature 'Your loving sister, Dove'. Sarai gasped and sat down abruptly on the floor as her knees went week and watery. She'd never thought of the consequences if the rebellion actually won and overthrew the luarins.
Sarai had always thought that if, back home, the things became really bad, Winna and Dove and the rest of the family could go to Carthak and join her and Zaimid. They'd already married, and were expecting a boy-child.
"Sarai, what are you doing on the floor?" She looked up to see Zaimid looking at her in a concerned manner. Wordlessly, she passed the letter to him.
Zaimid scanned it quickly, his face turning pale. "Did you read the whole letter?" At the shake of her head, he pointed at a sentence.
Looking the paragraph above the one he pointed at, she read:
Sarai, did you know that Aly's da is a spy? Her da and granda are Tortall's spymasters. No wonder she's so good a spy… she was born to be one! And her ma's the Lioness. They came over, together with the Wildmage, the most powerful mage in Tortall, and a lot of other famous people, to see Aly and Nawat. They're married now, and expecting a child.
Have you heard yet? Dunevon and Elsren are dead when a storm hit the boat they were on. Imajane and Rubinyan and all the mages in the castle were behind the storm…
Tears filled Sarai's eyes, blurring the words. Elsren was dead? Her little brother, although they did not share the same mother. He was so young, with his whole life stretching out in front of him! He did not deserve to be murdered brutally, without even his mother to comfort and console him.
Though she should have known. If a queen was put on a throne, Dunevon and Elsren had to be out of the way first. Dove expected her to know it already, so she did not even try to break the news gently. But Carthak hadn't gotten any news from Copper Isles lately. With the rebellion and the young boy-king on the throne, things had been messy for a while.
Zaimid put his arms around her, silently comforting her. She blinked away the tears and gave a wobbly smile. Thrusting away the sorrow, she brought her mind back to the knowledge that Dove was going to be a queen. She already was, Sarai realized. It was two days after Midwinter, which meant that the coronation was already over.
Sarai thought of her little sister. She knew that Dove had always been in her shadow, since Dove was not as pretty as she was. And she was a lot quieter too. Sarai was like fire, fierce and beautiful and wonderful to watch. Dove, on the other hand, was water. She was quiet, soothing and flexible.
Sarai did not feel Zaimid's arm leave her shoulder as he stood up, looked down at her with a small smile, and leave the room without a sound. She was too deep in her thoughts.
In the past, when Sarai had been the twice royal, the heir the raka were waiting for, she'd always thought that she would be a good queen. But now, without any need to live up to expectations, she realized that she might not be if she had had the chance to take the throne.
Her temper would be her downfall. She might insult some powerful, stuck-up noble, and start the rebellions all over again. She never thought before letting words flow from her mouth. Her shy, quiet sister, on the other hand, was the opposite.
Dove had a cool head, and could answer almost any question diplomatically without offending anyone. She always watched her words, and she was clever enough to govern a country. Most importantly, she did what Aly and Dove had always despaired of getting Sarai to do. She listened.
She listened to people, even beggars and merchants. Being a queen, she would listen to their problems, and come up with a clever solution. She had all the qualities of a good queen, just that she had always been in Sarai's shadow. Well, now that Sarai was in Carthak and Dove was queen, she'd get her chance to prove herself. For the sake of her family and the country, Sarai knew that Dove would manage it.
Sarai imagined herself in a castle with a crown on her head. She imagined luxurious silks, all the wealth of the royal treasury, people cheering her as their rightful queen. She toyed with the images for a while, then sighed and gave up. Dove would do a better job than she ever could. Dove was suited for the throne and crown.
Sarai glanced at the letter in her hand. Her eyes happened to fall on the sentence informing her of her beloved brother's death. She remembered him on his spending every free moment on his pony, striving to someday beat her in riding. She thought of his enthusiasm as he was chosen to be Dunevon's companion, not knowing that the regents had planned his death all the while. As tears filled her eyes and grief rose in her heart, Sarai could hear her last coherent thought ringing in her head, echoing in the dark passageways of her mind.
Dovasary Haiming Balitang, you'll be a great queen for the Copper Isles', one of the best they'll ever have. You were always meant to be the queen, unlike me. Good luck, my sister. You'll need it for the difficult years ahead of you.
