- Chapter 38: One Evening in Sharland -
Dinner with the Sharland royal family was pleasant enough. Princess Caroline did excuse herself quite early - rather a rude gesture towards a guest - but given the princess's elitist attitude, Mayfair was satisfied to chalk her departure up as good riddance. And the rest of them were quite friendly, if rather on the formal side. Alain, at the least, was refreshingly human, freely joining in conversations without offering preambles and speaking in an open, casual tone.
More importantly, she found that she was not intimidated, not even by the king's sharp intellect or Caroline's acid remarks. Perhaps it was the memory of Nick's confidence in her that gave her courage, or the simple thought of the strength of Cypress and her people, but whatever it was, she never wavered in her answers.
Towards the end of the main course, the king came to his feet and said, "I hope you will forgive my seeming imitation of my daughter-in-law's rudeness, Queen Mayfair, but as I still have numerous affairs demanding my attention, and my appetite being quite sated, I must excuse myself. I trust that my company shall not be missed, at any rate; while you plainly possess a conversational grace and wisdom far beyond your years, I am sure you would prefer to converse with those closer to your age. You and Muriel are already friends, I understand... and I am a rather dull conversationalist."
Mayfair shook her head. "Not at all, Your Majesty. I treasure your company, but if you must go..."
"Well then, I'll be sure to speak with you at further length some point during your visit. I am... most impressed that King Nicholas managed to find a queen worthy of him so quickly." Mayfair restrained a blush. "One other than my daughter, that is."
That caught her aback. "Your Majesty, I assure you, under any normal circumstances Nicholas would never have proposed to anyone other than Muriel."
The king held up a hand and a gentle smile. "Forgive me; I only added that remark so as to not slight my daughter. I perfectly understand the reasons for His Majesty's choice."
"That is good to hear." For all his impressive talk over dinner, he seemed genuinely unassuming now. Perhaps that was the balance he struck in maintaining good relations.
After she had formally excused the king, Mayfair once more seated herself.
Muriel studied her for a minute. "Am I correct in surmising that you like our father?"
"I am coming to like him," she answered. "I don't know him yet."
"Very precise," Saul chuckled. "Are you coming to like my wife?"
"Don't be childish," Muriel scolded him, though Mayfair only smiled in response to his remark. She knew that taking Saul's ribbing too seriously would be one of the worst things she could do for their esteem for her - and by extension, for Cypress. Muriel turned to her. "You've avoided talking of your husband thus far, Your Majesty. I realize that might be embarrassing in front of my father... but my brothers will be quite respectful, I assure you. Saul has to be, seeing as he's married himself."
Mayfair brought a hand up to her mouth. I had thought she would keep my feelings towards Nick as a confidence between the two of us. What should I... Wait. Don't assume. "Well... What exactly did you want me to discuss about him?"
Muriel interwove the fingers of her hands and rested her chin upon them, smiling in a relaxed, friendly manner. It was a pose that looked good on her. "What about the first time the two of you met? I've heard it was during the war..."
"Yes." She reached over to her glass and took a sip of water, buying her a few moments. "I was in charge of a group of resistance fighters on Asreet Island. Woldol's men had found us and were intending to wipe us out, but Nicholas and his force arrived right... I know how contrived this must sound, but truly, they arrived right in the nick of time. An hour later and I would most likely have been killed."
"That is a rather gracious stroke of luck," Alain remarked.
"Actually, knowing Nicholas as I do now, I think it was only by a very ill stroke of luck that I came so close to death at all. I've never seen him have to get by on luck." She took another sip of water, and smiled. "It was startling to learn that I had been rescued by none other than my rightful king. Until that day, I wasn't even sure I believed the rumors that King Gadrios's son was fighting to reclaim Cypress. Even more shocking was that he was doing so with such a small fighting force. His courage impressed me, to say the least."
"Ah," Muriel said. "And you must have impressed him."
Mayfair shook her head. "I couldn't have. My efforts at fighting Woldol had done a lot of good, but all Nicholas could know was that, ultimately, I needed him to rescue us."
"Still, he must at least have had some attraction towards you at that point."
"I proved my value to him in battling against Woldol's forces, and later, in advising him in domestic affairs and training the youths of Cypress into a powerful army. That is the only interest he has ever had in me."
"But you unfairly deprecate yourself, and His Majesty, with such remarks," Alain protested, making both the women start; his voice was significantly louder than it had been for the length of the evening. "King Nicholas has a strong and warm heart. If he married you, he must love you."
She gave Alain a look of sympathy, moved by his foolish idealism. "He has his duty, and love must come second to that."
He shook his head. "One with a heart that strong cannot betray love, not for any reason."
Muriel gave a nod at her brother and a smile at Mayfair. "You see? Alain agrees with me."
"That's... reassuring." She took a moment to consider, then decided it wouldn't hurt to let her discomfort show, and might even help mislead Muriel. Standing up, she said, "I pray that you will all excuse me for the evening. I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit weary from my journey yet."
"You haven't eaten much," Saul observed.
"I rarely do." She had practiced moderation in her meals since she was ten. Every mouthful she took in was one less that her father could give to the needy. She gave a polite nod of her head(it had taken Nick weeks to train her to do that instead of a bow). "I did enjoy the meal, however. I look forward to seeing you all again tomorrow."
Shortly after Mayfair left came the time for dessert, but with a, "I think I need some time with myself," Alain excused himself, leaving the servants only two to serve upon.
Saul twiddled with his near empty glass. "Perhaps my sister would like a dish of something... I find myself more inclined towards a fresh bottle of wine." Muriel gave her assent, and in short order Saul was left with a glass of wine and she with a glass of custard.
This evening Saul's habit of taking in wine at unusual times fell on the side of amusing Muriel. The sight of him sipping his glass made her smile. She really did adore her older brother, albeit not nearly as much as she did Alain. It was unfair, she supposed, since Saul was obviously fondest of her, while Alain, in turn, was more attached to his big brother. But something about Alain's emotional frailty aroused her maternal instincts. And Saul's shortage of principles and compassion often unsettled her.
"So, dear sister," Saul broke in on the quiet. "Now that the others are gone, perhaps you could explain to me what you're up to."
It took her a moment to register what her brother was talking about, but then she replied, "She is in love with Nicholas. She admitted it to me."
"As a deception, perhaps?"
"No." She dug into her custard and enjoyed a good bite. "I've gotten to know her well enough by now, Saul. She's a stronger woman than I first gave her credit for, but if there's one thing she's not, it's a good liar. She was raised by an archbishop; she probably grew up thinking of honesty as an inviolable virtue, and couldn't break the habit after becoming general. Whatever the reason, she's too simple and honest to tell a lie that isn't recognizable from a mile away."
"Ah. So let me see if I have this straight." He turned towards her and sat forward. "They're married. They love each other. But she has no clue about any of his feelings." He gave her a teasing smile. She found herself laughing in response.
"I suppose it is a bit absurd," she admitted. "But when you consider everything, it does make sense. King Nicholas knows that choosing a queen based on love makes him look weak before other nations, and moreover, it means that he is weak, because he has allowed his personal feelings to interfere with the good of his people. So he hides his love not only from her, but from himself. Mayfair, in turn, loves her king too much to distract him with a confession of love from a woman he does not love in turn. They're both doing their duty to their nation by ignoring their duty to each other."
Saul looked at her for a few moments, then shrugged and took a swallow of wine. "I suppose I can't actually refute that theory. However, you leave me more puzzled than ever. If what you say is true, you seem to be working towards the two of them opening up to each other, and thus attaining romantic marital bliss. How does that work to Sharland's advantage?"
"The timing of it does. Nicholas is embroiled in an unpleasant war, on top of a number of other diplomatic affairs. I plan to have Mayfair send him a letter confessing her feelings and saying how much it hurts her that he doesn't return them within the week."
Studying her face, Saul concluded, "Ingenious. Nicholas won't take well to that emotional blackmail, especially if he's repressed his feelings well enough. He'll reprimand her for pressuring him right when he's struggling to deal with Emild, and her ire will be stoked by his cold response. They'll both end up hurt and angry, yet Mayfair will feel indebted to you for helping her release her buried emotions. The sympathy you offer her for her unfortunate enamorment will make her a closer friend to you than to her husband." He leaned back and sipped his wine again. "Ingenious... and more than a bit cruel."
"You don't approve?" she asked, surprised.
"I approve of the plan. I'm not sure what I think of you having devised it."
She looked away. "If he suffers from this, Nicholas has no one to blame but himself. His foolish actions made it all possible. Sending a diplomatic mission to a man as paranoid as King Ian, hiding his affections from the woman he loves..."
"...marrying a dreary, self-righteous priestess instead of you?" Saul finished for her. His tone was completely blank, neither teasing nor accusing.
Muriel clenched her glass. "And now marrying King Ian is no longer an option. My selection of potential husbands is swiftly dwindling."
"It's just as well. To be frank, I never thought King Ian to be even remotely worthy of you."
"I don't disagree." She smiled faintly. "In truth, I'm glad he's out of the running. Now that there's no longer an obvious first choice for father to have me married off to, I can have my pick from a half dozen or so gentlemen."
"None of them worthy of you, if you want my opinion. But then, what man is?"
"...The one I can't have," she mumbled.
"What was that?"
Muriel did not answer. Though she still did not look at him, she could sense her brother watching, hear him sipping wine, pausing a few moments to refill his glass from the bottle the servants had left. It made her feel oddly nervous at his scrutiny yet warmed by his company.
"I can't see how you can possibly think that the man who would settle for a woman like Mayfair when he had a perfectly good shot at a woman like you is worthy of you," he said at last, having apparently guessed what she had said.
"He made the right choice," she said. "He married the woman he loves. After all, what does it matter that I... that I did so much to help him, and..." She could hear her voice becoming more and more strained as she went on, and stopped herself.
A warm hand clasped her shoulder. "Muriel," her brother whispered.
She had told herself not to lose control, but that simple gesture from Saul told her that he could already see her weakness. Abandoning pretense, she pressed her face into the front of his shirt and released a sob. Saul's hand wove through her hair to tenderly hold the back of her head.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." She sniffed back her tears. "Why did he do this? I was always sure I would marry him, and then... Gods, did he marry that girl just to spite me? What did I do to deserve this?"
"Nothing," he assured her. "Marrying King Nicholas meant that much to you?"
"You wouldn't understand," she said, pulling away from him. He silently handed her a handkerchief, which she accepted. "You inherit the throne of Sharland. You have a wife, and a son. I have nothing."
"Nothing save the wealth of the royal family of Sharland. And, may I add, two brothers who love you dearly."
"Two brothers who I'll rarely see again once I'm married off," she retorted. "And wealth is cold and hollow. Mock me if you will, but I envy those peasants who have no money but at least have someone to love."
"Ah, yes," he sighed. "Your incurable romanticism is both your charm and your heartache. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have belittled your pain." He pushed her unfinished dessert towards her. "Listen. Once I am king, I can arrange for you and your family to take up permanent residence in the palace. That way, at least I can be there for you whenever you need someone to talk to."
"No, Saul." She ignored her dessert. "Once you are king, the people of Sharland will need you. I won't have you neglect them for my sake."
"I'd rather watch every last one of them drown than see you like this. You've always been strong, idealistic, always sure that every couple you see is enjoying true love, that good will triumph over evil in every fight. You-"
"Saul..." She stood up. "The only way you could make me happy now is to make Queen Mayfair magically disappear and convince King Nicholas to marry me. You've already shown that you can't even accomplish the latter. Thank you for giving me a shoulder to cry on, but as for the rest... Don't bother yourself. All I ask is your help in convincing Queen Mayfair that her husband does in fact love her. I don't think you have any reason to object to that. So, I bid you good night."
Saul looked at her a moment, then raised his glass to his lips. "Good night, then."
Taking a deep breath, Natasha pushed open the door. "Um. You wanted to see me, Sir Edwin?"
She felt incredibly foolish. She had no idea what Edwin could want with her. Though she always listened to everything Deanna had to say about Iom's situation, and more or less understood it all, she was still new to the nation and didn't feel qualified to discuss its politics. And politics was the only subject Edwin could possibly want to talk to her about.
Unless something's happened to Deanna. Try as she did, she couldn't suffocate that thought. It was all she could do to keep from trembling with anxiety in front of Edwin.
"Yes, I did," Edwin said, getting up from the table he was seated at. He extended a hand towards the spot opposite him. "This gentleman just arrived from Cypress. Apparently, there's a matter between our nations which urgently needs resolving... and to be honest, I'm not sure how I should resolve it."
Natasha had to look down to see who he was talking about; the ambassador was a dwarf. "Hello," she said. "It's good to see another person from Cypress again. You look... familiar."
The dwarf nodded and held out his hand for her to shake. "It wouldn't surprise me if you'd seen me around Castle Cypress at some point. I'm Richard, Cypress's minister of foreign affairs." He glanced at the table. "Shall we sit down?"
She took a chair facing perpendicular to the two of them, holding a steadying hand over her baby as she sat down. There was a brief silence. "What is this all about?"
Folding his hands in front of him, Richard gave a sigh. "Well, this is rather unusual, lady Natasha. You see, a peace treaty between Cypress and Iom hasn't been signed since hostilities opened between our two nations. Technically, we're still at war."
She blinked at him. "I... You can't be serious. It was Warderer who started that war, and he's dead now. Prince Nick wouldn't attack innocent people just for conquest!"
"Of course not. But an official agreement of peace still has to be made. Cypress has refrained from pursuing the matter these past eight months - keeping our troops within our original borders, allowing you and your husband to attend His Majesty's coronation - because there was no leadership in Iom that we could deal with, and as you pointed out, the immediate problem between our nations had already been resolved. Now, however, there is at least some leadership in Iom to deal with, and King Nicholas feels that the matter cannot be delayed any longer."
Richard leaned forward and pushed at a piece of paper that lay in front of Edwin. Natasha immediately understood. "What are you waiting for?" she asked Edwin. "Sign it."
Edwin looked at her. "There are terms."
"Terms?"
"First, the current ruler of Iom is to swear not to instigate or participate in further abductions of royal personages, whether of Cypress or any other nation, and to ensure that the next king of Iom takes the same oath before being crowned. Second, as a gesture of goodwill, Iom is to entertain the royal family of Cypress, as well as whatever nobles and ministers of Cypress should choose to attend, at the royal palace in a celebration of the new peace. Third, Cypress claims the lands extending from -" Edwin stopped, and began digging through a stack of papers that he had set to the side. "It'll be easier for you to understand if I just show you where they are on a map..."
It took her a few moments to interpret his legalist wording. When she did, she didn't like what the translation said. "Are you saying that Cypress is asking us to give some of Iom's lands to them?"
"Exactly, yes. It's a very straightforward annexation."
She turned on Richard. "Why is Cypress asking for something like that, if they're so eager for us to sign a peace treaty?" she demanded.
Richard smiled at her as though she were a slow-witted pupil. "Lady Natasha, many Cypress soldiers died in the war against Iom, and our kindhearted, noble king suffered unspeakable humiliations while he was held captive. Is it fair to ask that Cypress endure these wrongs without the least bit of compensation? That the deaths of those soldiers - at that time, your comrades - be allowed to be for nothing?"
Her cheeks colored slightly. "I... hadn't thought of things that way. I just want... I just want Cypress and Iom to be friends. Deanna is from Iom, I'm from Cypress, but we love each other. Isn't that a sign that it's wrong for our two nations to be making demands of each other?"
"It's not much of a demand, if that means anything," Edwin said, spreading a map of Iom on the table in front of her. He ran his finger over a section. "This is the area in question. Scarcely a tenth of Iom's total land area."
"Land area? You're concerned about land area?" A spark of outrage snapped inside her. "What about the people there? What about whether or not the crops there are needed for people in other parts of Iom?"
Edwin retreated into his chair. "To be honest... I don't know about any of that. I've told you that I took on the leadership of Iom only reluctantly; I never learned all there is to know about this nation. And these are remote lands we're talking about. Judging by that, I would assume that they're not well-populated, or there would be a large city in the area. Beyond that, I can't say."
She thought for a moment. "I don't think this is our decision to make, Edwin. Deanna should be back before too long with the heir to the throne. We should wait for the king to decide this."
"Lady Natasha..." Richard intervened. "You're asking me to wait for an indeterminate period of time while Sir Deanna locates your monarch and prepares him for his coronation."
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but..."
"You don't understand. The longer Cypress waits, the more time Iom has to rally its forces and resume the war. King Nicholas has already been more than patient; if he allows this matter to be postponed any further, he endangers the people he is sworn to protect. And so, he has given me strict orders to not allow you to delay more than three days, and that only so the assorted ministers of Iom can discuss the matter. If you have not signed the peace treaty within three days, the Cypress army must once more march to defend itself against Iom."
"You can't be serious," Natasha said again. "We both agreed just a minute ago that Pri- that King Nicholas wouldn't attack innocent people just for conquest."
"This isn't about conquest. This is about Iom's hostility towards Cypress. If Iom refuses to accept even these simple demands, he must assume that Iom is still hostile towards us. He cannot wait for them to make the first strike." He looked her in the eye. "King Nicholas doesn't want this to come to bloodshed, Lady Natasha. But as you know, he will take that road if he must do so to defend his people. Will you force him to do so?"
She was struck silent for a moment. What do I do? I don't want to betray Prince Nick, and I definitely don't want Iom and Cypress to go to war. But I don't want Edwin and me to make a decision that really isn't ours to make... Especially me. I'm not even really an Iomite.
She asked, "Edwin, what's your opinion on this?"
"I don't know," he answered. "That's why I'm asking for your advice."
"But you're an experienced political leader, and Iom is your home. You must have some thoughts on if we should sign this or not."
Edwin cast his eyes at Richard. "May the two of us discuss this in private for a minute or two?"
"Of course." Richard got up and left the room.
Edwin turned back to her and gave a feeble shrug of his shoulders. "To be honest, I think the terms are exceptionally lenient. I suspect Cypress realizes that with the change in leadership in Iom, they have a solid chance at actually establishing friendly relations with Iom, and have decided to trade seizing immediate benefits for gaining our good will. The losing nation of a war in which it was the agressor can hardly hope for better terms than this. Accepting them seems like a good choice.
"On the other side, refusing the terms seems like a very bad choice. I'm not prepared to conduct a war against Cypress, and I'm certain that our new king won't be, either. Our troop numbers are already weakened from Cypress's invasion, and smaller feuds over the rulership of Iom have made things worse. Most importantly, soldier morale is sure to be extremely low if they are asked to fight Cypress again."
He folded his hands. "Despite all that, two things make me hesitate to sign the treaty. One, Cypress may be bluffing. They've recently endured a civil war of their own - a far longer and bloodier one than we went through, from what I understand. It's likely that they don't have the military strength to afford an invasion of Iom. We may be able to negotiate for better terms. Which brings me to point two: It doesn't feel right for me to agree to something so major as surrendering a significant chunk of Iom to a foreign nation so long as we have any other option."
"I understand," she nodded. "But they won't let us wait for Deanna and our new king to return, so..."
"Which makes your knowledge all the more useful."
"My... knowledge? I'm not even a native to Iom..."
"Exactly. You were a soldier of Cypress. And you had the opportunity to see Castle Cypress again, when you attended King Nicholas's coronation. So you can answer my first reason for hesitating: Does Cypress have the manpower to reasonably launch a renewed invasion of Iom? Or are they bluffing?"
She stared at him. "You're asking me to give you military intelligence on Cypress? That's... treason. I may technically be an Iomite now, but..."
Edwin sighed. "You were just a minute ago complaining about Cypress coercing us to give over these lands. Now you're refusing to give me information that will allow us to negotiate around that. You can't have it both ways; either you help me make the best decision for Iom, or you abandon Iom to a decision based in ignorance."
She fidgeted with the sleeve of her robes. Gods. They're asking me to choose between Cypress and Iom. The land I was born in and the land I've made my home.
But... what can it hurt? Edwin sounds like he wants to sign the treaty anyway. ...Unless he's deceiving me, to get me to talk about Cypress's army.
She shook her head, belatedly realizing that it didn't matter, since what she knew of Cypress's military strength suggested that they were not bluffing. She'd been focused for so long on Deanna and the baby, her mind was responding sluggishly to questions of war, she realized.
Aloud she said, "When I was serving at Castle Cypress, all we had was the men who went with Prince Nick to Iom, and the youth squads."
"Many of whom perished in the ambush at Algam fields," Edwin filled in.
"But not most. I saw most of them return to Castle Cypress. Prince Nick must have ordered a retreat when he realized they'd been trapped." She paused. "And when I visited Castle Cypress for the coronation... there were many new recruits. It's still nowhere near the size of the mighty Cypress army I heard about when I was a little girl, and it's not big enough that they could be sure of defeating Iom again. But it's big enough that they could at least give it a very good try."
"I see." Edwin rubbed a hand across his brow. "Of course, no matter how powerful the Cypress army, King Nicholas still could be bluffing."
"You want to play a game of dare with him?"
"I just want to do what's right for Iom," he sighed again, resting his face in a hand. "I never wanted this position, but I have it, and... By Iom, I'm griping about my own problems. Listen, just tell me... should I sign it?"
She hesitated a moment, then said, "We can trust King Nicholas. He wouldn't have offered these terms if they were hurtful to the people of Iom."
Edwin nodded, and got up to summon Richard back to the room.
Once Richard had been called back, Edwin sighed the treaty in the presence of him, Natasha, and Richard's bodyguard. Richard smiled as he accepted the signed treaty. "Thank you, Sir Edwin. You've done a great thing for both our nations. I'm sure this will lead to a new era of friendship between Cypress and Iom."
"I certainly hope so," Edwin said, standing up to shake his hand. "Unfortunately, I won't be the one to decide whether Iom is a friend of Cypress, or not. That is up to our rightful monarch."
"I look forward to meeting him as well. But you have set the right course, and for that, you have the sincere gratitude of King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair."
As he turned to go, Natasha frowned and said, "You mean, General Mayfair."
"That's right."
"You... you said 'Queen Mayfair'," she said, smiling awkwardly with the embarrassment of pointing out his mistake.
"Right again. She was General Mayfair, and now she's Queen Mayfair. Were you not informed?" He looked genuinely puzzled.
Natasha could feel a lump forming in the pit of her stomach. "I think you've made a mistake."
Richard smiled. "I'm fairly certain that I know who my queen is, lady Natasha. Farewell for now; I must return to Castle Cypress as soon as possible, to tell King Nicholas that the ultimatum I mentioned has been met." He bowed and left.
She stared after him. Edwin's hand fell lightly on her shoulder. "Are you all right, lady Natasha?"
All she could think of to say was, "Is there a way to become queen without marrying a king?"
"Of course. One can inherit the position by blood, as I believe Guardiana's ruler did. Or if one can convince enough people that she is the rightful ruler, a rebellion like Warderer's could work. Why? Does Queen Mayfair being married have some important implication for Iom?"
She looked down at her belly, where she could feel Carla beginning to stir. "No, nothing important. I just... He must have been mistaken."
Mayfair stirred from her sleep. She'd been having a pleasant dream; she was walking through a field with her father, watching strange and beautiful horses gallop past them. There was no sensible reason for the dream to have ended itself at that point, which most likely meant she'd heard something. Her hearing was still sharp from the time she had been blind; that experience had taught her how to truly listen, and she hadn't forgotten the lesson.
She sat up, looking about the darkness of the room, ears perked for further noise.
A hand closed over her mouth, cutting off her attempt to cry out. She struggled, trying with all her might to get leverage over the grip her assailant had on her. Something sliced into the skin below her ear, and her mind almost immediately felt duller, fuzzier.
She fought for consciousness, raced through her memory as fast as she could to think of the spell most likely to counteract whatever had just been done to her. Instead, the strain of her thoughts made the fuzzy dizziness in her head spread more quickly, enveloping her into a dark unconsciousness.