Chapter 25 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

The morning after Neya's Day at the Keep was quiet. The staff was sleepy and subdued, for while everyone who was eligible had been out the night before till all hours, work still waited for them in the morning.

Ellika and Sedra had not been out all night but instead had spent a quiet night playing cards. ("It's so unfair I have to stay home!" Ellika had huffed. "Do be quiet and deal," Sedra had replied.) This morning they were up early, breakfasting alone in the cheerful morning room.

"Where d'you suppose Mama is? She almost never sleeps in, not even after a Spectacle," said Ellika.

"Don't know, El," said Sedra absently from the inky depths of The Tremontine Spectator. "There's always a first time."

"No surprise Papa isn't here, he's always out late on Spectacle nights."

"Mmm."

"Oh, must you read at the breakfast table?" said Ellika irritably.

"Must you talk at the breakfast table?" Sedra replied, folding back a new page with a rustling flourish.

Ellika threw her napkin down and stood up. "I'm going to see what's the matter with Mama."

"You do that," said Sedra, groping blindly for the toast rack with one hand, only peering over the Spectator when her fingers ended up in the jam pot.

Ellika trotted up the stairs to her mother's suite and knocked on the door, but Lady Donnis turned her away. "Her highness is well but indisposed this morning, miss," said Donnis firmly. "I will tell her you inquired after her."

In actual fact, her highness wasn't in her rooms at all, and Donnis had no way of knowing whether she was well or not. Ansella herself didn't know, either. She lay staring up at the canopy over Harsin's bed, clutching the covers to her chin and wondering what had possessed her the night before.

She turned her head and looked over at Harsin, his face still slack in sleep. It had been many years since they'd shared a bed, but asleep he still looked the same as he had on their wedding night, she reflected--almost innocent, though she doubted Harsin had ever been innocent. He'd probably been born with those come-to-bed eyes and that knowing smile, and tried to seduce the midwife.

Perhaps, she thought, it would be wisest if she were not here when he woke up. It would spare them both a difficult conversation, for she was sure he would wake up wondering the same thing she was: How on earth they had ended up making this huge mistake. She carefully folded back the covers and began to slide out of bed, searching with her eyes for something to slip on long enough to get to her rooms.

Harsin's hand stopped her, his grip on her thigh firm but gentle. "And where do you think you're going, lady wife?"

She jumped. "Oh! I--I thought perhaps you'd sleep better were I to leave, my lord."

"Ansella, it's morning. I slept very well, and I've slept enough. Come here."

"Is that a request or a command, my lord?" she said stiffly.

Harsin removed his hand from her thigh in surprise. "It's a request. Please, Ansella, come back to bed. Just for a little while. Please." She slipped back under the covers cautiously, keeping herself well-covered. Harsin sighed impatiently and pulled her close, pillowing her head on his chest. "I'm only asking for a little closeness from my wife."

Ansella raised her head and looked into his eyes. "You will forgive me if this confuses me, my lord."

He stroked her messy blond hair away from her face. Such clear blue eyes. He hadn't looked into them in far too long, and he didn't entirely like his reflection in them. "Our children are grown. The eldest is getting married and the youngest is an adult now. Forgive me if this makes me melancholy and nostalgic for my youth."

She laughed slightly. "Harsin, you're hardly an old man, you're 41."

"Even so. I look into your face and I remember a different time."

Ansella stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "I shouldn't think you'd be nostalgic for that time. I know I'm not."

"You never think back on our early days?"

"Not," she said, turning onto her back to stare at the canopy again, "in the way that you seem to."

Harsin turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand. "When you think back on those days, what do you think of, then?"

She shifted her gaze to his face. "You really want to know," she said. He nodded. "Very well. I think about my having no choice in my life at all. I think about being forced to leave my home. I think about being forced to marry one man when I loved another." Her voice picked up speed and volume. "I think about being forced to share your bed. I think about being forced to bear three children. I think about--"

"Stop," he almost shouted, sitting up. He stared down at her, incredulous. "Ansella, you were allowed to do whatever you wanted!"

"Was I?" she retorted. "How very odd. What I wanted was to marry my brother's best friend. How did I end up here?"

Harsin waved his hand in irritation. "I meant after our marriage. D'you know how hard I had to work to convince my father that you should be allowed to raise the children at Whithorse once Temmy was born? Even though I myself thought it was a mistake?"

"That agreement was part of my bride price," she said, sitting up herself; in her agitation she let the sheet drop into her lap. "Once I produced an heir I could go home, and the children would come with me. You agreed!"

"Because Teacher said I should, that you were right!"

"Don't blame me because you listened to that black crow!"

"Ansella, he was on your side!"

She gaped in confusion and then continued, "Well--why do you care whether I went home?"

"Because I missed my children," he said angrily. "I missed my wife."

"You knew where we were."

"Oh, for the love of Pagg." Harsin rolled out of bed and pulled on a robe. "I had a kingdom to run."

"Your father only died ten years ago, and we moved back home long before then." She cast about for something to throw on, and finally found her chemise atop a heap of her hastily shed clothes on the floor.

"My obligations didn't start with his death, and you know it."

"Neither did your whoring!"

He whirled around. "Is that it? Jealousy?! Your part of the arrangement was not to care, if I recall correctly!"

"And I haven't!" she spat.

"Then why bring it up!"

"I don't know!" she shouted. "I don't know!" She breathed hard, tears springing to her eyes. "Why are you suddenly commanding my presence in your bed when you have a half-dozen hussies under this roof alone?"

"For one, I don't have a single mistress under this roof," he said hotly. "For another, my mistresses have never had any bearing on my regard for you--you are still my wife and the mother of my children. For a third, I didn't 'command' you, you were in my bed of your own free will!" He cocked his head. "Is that it, Ansella? A little morning-after remorse and now you're trying to convince yourself you had no choice but to come to my bed? Thinking of your girlfriend, perhaps?"

She turned white. "How dare you bring her up!"

"Ah, and so I've touched a nerve."

"Believe me when I tell you, you have, sir!"

"And believe me when I tell you I touched a lot more than a nerve last night, and you pleaded for more the entire time!"

Ansella drew herself up as regally as she could in a wrinkled chemise and wild hair. "This conversation is ended, your majesty."

Harsin crossed the room so quickly she squeaked in surprise as he swept her off her feet into his arms. "Only for now, my dear. We will continue it another time. And you will return to my bed. You won't be able to stay away now. The doors between our rooms are to remain unbarred, but I swear to you that you will be the one to cross that threshold first."

He let her go abruptly; she stumbled onto her feet and smoothed out her crumpled chemise as well as she could. "Your over-confidence has always been distasteful to me."

"And your constant prudery even in the face of your own desire is distasteful to me. Leave me now." Harsin turned his back on her.

Ansella stared at him, her mouth open. She decided she could have her clothes returned to her later, turned on her heel and stalked out the connecting door into the narrow private hallway connecting their bedchambers, surprising Donnis and two housemaids when she slammed through her own door. "Your highness--?" blinked the lady-in-waiting.

"Leave us. Go clean my sitting room or something, but do not leave my suite," she snapped to the maids, who dropped quick curtseys and hurried out of the bedchamber. As soon as they were gone, Ansella burst into tears and sank onto her bed.

"Ansella! Oh, dear cousin!" said Donnis, wrapping her arms around the queen and giving her the two handkerchiefs she carried in her pocket. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she sobbed. "Something--came over me, and--and--and now--"

"Sssh," said Donnis, rocking her gently. "Oh, cos. Whatever it is, it'll be all right."

"Those maids--you must tell them--you must make them swear they did not see me come through that door!"

"Ansella, it's perfectly natural for you to visit your husband. I will make them swear no such thing. Doing that will lead to worse rumors than that you still love your husband."

Ansella's sobs redoubled. "I--have--NEVER--loved him!"

"So you've said, many times," said Donnis, offering a third handkerchief from the bedstand, "and just the rumor that you shouldn't let start."

"What am I going to do?"

"About what?"

"About Ibbit!" cried the queen. "I've betrayed her!"

"Cos, listen to yourself. You've just said you've betrayed your lover with your husband."

"She mustn't find out, she would leave me!"

"Oh, sweetheart. I don't think Ibbit would ever leave you." Not, thought Donnis bitterly, as long as you can help her become Eldest Sister, my poor cousin. "Is it so horrible to be called to your husband's bed, and on Neya's Day? Can't you just take the blessing and leave it at that?"

"Oh, Donnie!" Ansella sniffled as she brought her tears under control. "A blessing? A curse, more like it. Well." She dried her eyes. "I'm sorry to fall apart so. I'm so emotional lately. I'm sure this is a passing fancy. In a week, he'll be back to ignoring me completely. He must be between girls. I thought that Shelstone woman was still his paramour, but apparently not." She sighed and patted Donnis's arm. "Please have the serving maid draw me a bath, my dear. I promise I will stop this ridiculous mewling and not mention it again."

Ansella watched Donnis out the door, took a deep breath, and sat down at her vanity to brush the morning tangles from her hair. Can't you just take the blessing and leave it at that, she thought as she studied her face in the mirror. Not when she could still feel Harsin's hands on her, not when she could see the marks he left on her fair skin, marks she'd begged him to make, not when even now she was holding herself back from running through the door to his room and begging for more.

A blessing? A curse.