“I will have to consider this carefully,” Darrin said finally.
“Darrin—”
“It’s not that I think it an unsuitable match, lad,” Darrin assured him. “The King of Skylin—what's more, a man as near to my heart as my own sons—is certainly worthy of my daughter's hand. It's only… I worry for my daughter, Felix. Skylin is very far away.”
Felix frowned, confused and indignant. “You think I can’t provide for her?”
“Of course not.” Darrin cleared his throat. “It's only that my daughter is… different.”
“Is she simple?” Felix asked bluntly, his stomach curling in on itself.
Bad enough that he should be required to marry a stranger, likely against the lady’s will. But if the lady in question were to be handed over with no will at all and no understanding of her fate? He wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
“No.” Darrin’s fist clenched, then relaxed. “No. Keela is merely…”
“What?”
“Well. You’ll soon see for yourself, I suppose,” Darrin said. “Let’s speak of this again after you’ve met her.”
“Of course.” Felix took a steadying breath against a rising tide of impatience. “When may I make your daughter's acquaintance?”
“I wish I could tell you.” Darrin sighed. “But, alas, I have no earthly idea.”
Felix spent the remainder of the morning wandering around the palace of Seafare—to evaluate and map his surroundings, of course. And if he happened to run into his friend's elusive daughter, well, so much the better. After a time, however, he gave up this admittedly feeble pretense and asked a passing housemaid where he could find the princess. The maid merely smiled and shrugged. He received nothing more helpful from several men at arms, a stable hand, or, finally, one of Darrin’s sons.
“She'll turn up when it pleases her and not a moment sooner,” Rist snorted, then amended, “No, that's not fair. If she were truly needed, she would come running. She always does.”
“How?” Felix was intrigued. Was this how royalty—female royalty, no less—behaved in Seafare? “No one seems to know where to find her.”
Rist smiled and shrugged.
Admitting defeat, Felix accepted an invitation to ride out with Rist and Darrin’s eldest son, Goran. He was glad of the distraction. The young men returned to the castle in high spirits late in the afternoon after a good many hours spent racing their horses through the surf and wading in the shallows. As they rode through the gates, however, Felix noticed both his companions looking around the courtyard with worried eyes. It was subtle, but Felix knew them both quite well. His own gaze swept the yard, looking for signs of danger, but he found none.
“Murtagh…?” Goran called inquiringly to the stable master.
“Nay, my lord,” the man replied, though no question had been asked—aloud.
“Goran—” Felix began.
“Well, I'm off for a bath,” Rist announced. “I must make myself beautiful for the feast. I hear Lady Alya will be in attendance.”
Felix tried again. “Goran, what—”
“That means Lady Alya's Aunt Muirrin will also be there.” Goran punched Rist lightly in the shoulder, seemingly oblivious to Felix’s attempts to question him.
“You'll just have to distract her with tales of your bravery and derring-do,” Rist replied cheerfully.
“You want me to dance attendance on that dragon while you steal kisses from the prettiest girl in Seafare?” Goran snorted. “Not a chance, brother.”
Felix sighed and pushed his curiosity aside once more. Declining the assistance of a stable-hand, he tended his horse himself. He took his time grooming and feeding the animal, taking comfort in the familiar routine. Consequently, he was present to witness a scene of surpassing oddity in the courtyard some time later.
A dark-haired waif dressed in ragged, faded skirts and a loose shirt entered the gates accompanied by an enormous dog that looked even more disheveled than its mistress. She rode bareback—and barefoot—on a magnificent gray filly. His gray filly, in point of fact. At least, it was the gray filly Felix had given Darrin as a gift more than a year before.
He fought down a surge of annoyance—was this how Darrin valued his gift? But the gift had been given and there was no taking it back; the horse was Darrin’s to do with as he pleased. Felix began to turn his back on the displeasing sight, then paused to admire the girl’s seat. Street urchin or not, she sat a horse better than many of his own soldiers did.
Felix watched, captivated as the girl dismounted so lightly she almost seemed to float to the ground. Laughing, she let the hound place its paws on her shoulders and lick her face from chin to forehead before loping away. The girl merely dragged her sleeve across her face and led the filly into the stable, shaking her head at the many hands that reached out to take the reins from her.
As the girl turned, he caught sight of her eyes—wide, luminous gray eyes that seemed to shine eerily in the fading light. Her smile faded as her eyes met his, and an oddly familiar sternness settled on her features. He frowned for a moment, then realized with a start that he was about to meet the Princess of Seafare at last.
“My lord,” Keela said softly as she approached him, her manner entirely at odds with her dirty feet and tangled hair. “I do apologize for my absence… I wanted to gather my thoughts before speaking with you. Will you walk with me?”
Felix only barely managed not to stutter. “Certainly, my lady. Shall I await you in the garden?”
“Wait?” Keela tilted her head quizzically to the side. “I only need to settle Liadan for the night. With two pairs of hands, it will take no time at all.”
“Indeed, my lady,” Felix agreed, bemused. He wondered what his counselors would have to say about the wife they had chosen for him.
The thought made Felix smile as he obediently helped the princess brush and blanket her horse and spread fresh bedding on to the ground. They worked in silence, although Felix nearly spoke several times when it seemed Keela was about to plant her royal foot in a pile of horse droppings. But she avoided them easily, flitting about the stable with thoughtless grace.
“And now, my lord king, we shall talk,” she finally said, brushing bits of straw from her skirts.
Keela turned and floated down the stable aisle, leaving Felix to trail after her. Annoyed, he caught up with her quickly and adjusted his stride to match hers. After what seemed like an endless period of tense silence, he blurted out the first thing to enter his head.
“What’s that in your hair?”
He gestured to the tangle of seaweed wound about her head. Upon closer examination, he found it was studded with seashells.
“It's my coronet,” she replied with a dreamy smile. “A fitting crown for the Mermaid Queen, don’t you think? A fisherman's lad made it for me—Alan. He's very gallant.”
Felix groped for something to say. “Mermaid Queen?”
“Mermaids are creatures of the sea,” the princess informed him. “Beautiful women from the waist up, but fish tails and fins below. They lure sailors from their ships with sweet songs and promises of love.”
“And when they have these poor sailors in their grasp?”
“Some say they take the sailors as husbands.” Keela looked at him with wide, guileless eyes. “Others say they drown their victims and eat them.”
“Ah yes,” Felix replied lightly, trying to decide whether he was intrigued or unnerved by this…singular… specimen of Seafarian royalty. “A similar creature dwells in our lakes and rivers in Skylin. However, the nokken preys on children…. and pretty young women who wander off by themselves.”
“A very good thing, then, that I have Bear to watch over me,” Keela returned, though she smiled at his gentle teasing.
“Bear is your hound?”
“My protector and my dearest friend,” Keela said with a nod. “He would never let any harm come to me. Father trained him personally.”
“He’s aptly named,
” Felix commented, remembering the unbelievable size of the dog.
“Yes,” she said simply, and fell silent once more.
“My lady,” he began when the silence became unbearable.
“I know why you’ve come,” she interrupted. She stopped and examined Felix closely. He tried not to fidget under her disconcertingly direct gaze. “I can see for myself that you’re strong and healthy… handsome, even. My father and brothers all hold you in the highest esteem, so I know you’re a good man. You’re everything a girl could want.”
Somehow her words didn’t seem quite like praise. Keela stopped and examined Felix’s face, her own features smooth and unreadable. Felix stared steadily back, wondering why he felt as if he were answering a challenge. Finally, Keela pursed her lips and stepped back.
“I’ll take my leave,” Keela said. “My father will send for you after I’ve spoken with him.”
With a heavy heart and an uncomfortable twisting sensation in his stomach, Felix returned to his rooms. Once there, he collapsed face-down on the bed and lay unmoving for several long minutes as he replayed the conversation in his head. Had he just been rejected? He didn’t know how he would feed his people without the gold from Keela’s dowry to buy supplies. The whole thing had taken perhaps a quarter of an hour, no more. Surely no other king in the history of the Skylin had driven the country to ruin so quickly.
He could still seek additional aid from Dunfell or Morlan, but he did not relish the idea of spending the next ten years wallowing in debt. His friends could talk all they liked about repaying the people of Skylin for their contribution on the battlefield, but a debt of honor and a debt of grain were worlds apart.
A brisk knock on his door drew him out of his gloomy contemplation of the future. With a sigh, he sat up and called out his permission to enter. A servant appeared and bowed smartly.
“King Darrin desires a conference with you, my lord,” the man said. “Shall I show you to his study?”
“Thank you,” Felix said politely, though he would have liked nothing better than to throw something hard and breakable at the man's head.
Perhaps it was for the best, he reasoned with himself. Perhaps Skylin would be better off with a queen born and bred in Skylin. Perhaps…perhaps nothing. Keela was the best he could do for his country, and Skylin deserved the best. He would simply have to change her mind. His charms were not inconsiderable, after all, though rarely used and no doubt as rusty as a bandit’s blade. Surely for the sake of his country he could manage it.
***
Felix stood outside Darrin's study and took a deep breath, feeling as if he were steeling himself for battle. He almost wished he were. In this instance, he would gladly face down an army rather than go through that door. In all his twenty-five years, how had no one ever found the time to tell him that the most frightening ordeal a man had to face was not battle but matrimony? He felt cheated—betrayed—by every married man he had ever known.
Long before he was ready, the door opened to reveal the one person Felix was hoping not to see. Keela smiled her dreamy smile—a hair-raising sight, at this point—and stepped back to allow his entrance to the study. Her father sat, frowning into a goblet of wine, at a small table set for three. Felix bowed to both king and princess, trying to gather his thoughts.
“King Darrin—”
“None of that,” Darrin said, waving a hand carelessly. “Sit down, lad, and have a drink. You look like you need it. You too, child. Sit. You're making Felix nervous.”
Keela settled herself gracefully at Felix's side. She had yet to bathe and change—in fact, he could smell the seaweed in her hair. Nevertheless, she somehow seemed the most regal personage in the room. Keela raised her silver eyes to his and patted his hand, smiling reassuringly. He was not reassured.
“Is it still your wish to marry my daughter?” Darrin asked, and Felix's eyes snapped to his friend's face.
“Pardon?”
“Do you want to marry Keela?” Darrin repeated patiently.
“I… well, yes,” Felix said, trying not to sound sheepish. “But I thought…”
“My daughter tells me that she is not averse to the match,” Darrin said with a small frown. “But I must confess to some unease…”
You and I both, Felix thought.
“I will leave Seafare one day, Father,” Keela said firmly. “I must marry, I know that. Already the running of the household has fallen mostly to Goran's wife. Soon there will be nothing for me to do, and I will only be in the way.”
“Keela! What nonsense. If that’s why you want to marry Felix—”
“Do you want me to live out my days here in your castle?” she asked. “A spinster with no children of my own? Or shall I be a Temple wife and bear children for others to raise? That is not the life I want for myself, Father. Felix is a good man, comely and strong. He is a king, and as his queen I’ll never want for meaningful work. It’s a good match.”
With effort, Felix suppressed the urge to clear his throat or fidget. He had always known it was his duty to provide an heir for the throne, a child procured either by his own seed or by the Temple’s grace. He had never given it much thought. But now, with the prospective mother of such a child seated before him, the specter of fatherhood loomed over him like a shadow—or an ax.
Even so, his eyes traveled down the curve of Keela’s waist and settled on her hands folded neatly in her lap. What would that waist look like, round and bursting with new life? It was a thought equal parts exciting and alarming. Or perhaps not equal parts, exactly. Felix shook himself and focused on Darrin instead.
“I loved your mother dearly.” Darrin took his daughter's hand. “I had hoped…”
“I haven’t given my heart elsewhere,” Keela said, the barest hint of a blush on her pale cheeks. “Nor has Felix, I think, and he is both kind and handsome. Love has grown in fields far less fertile.”
Felix felt his own face redden. For a moment their gaze met, and warmth spread down his neck, into his chest, and beyond. Then she looked away. Felix was left feeling oddly unbalanced, as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet.
“If this is your will, daughter, then so be it.” Darrin patted her hand and released it with a sigh. “What say you, Felix?”
“The princess honors me,” Felix said steadily, though sweat sprang from his brow. “I will endeavor to justify her faith.”
“My lord is too kind,” Keela murmured with an inscrutable smile. “If it please you, Father, I’ll take my leave. I must dress for the feast.”
The princess rose and swept from the room, leaving behind a whiff of seaweed and an empty silence. Felix slumped in his chair, feeling oddly deflated. The Princess of Seafare was his, and his country was safe. Why then, did he feel more unsettled than before?
“So,” Darrin said meaningfully.
Felix looked up warily. “So?”
“What do you make of your future queen?” Darrin asked, eyes twinkling.
“Damned if I know,” Felix said without thinking, and was relieved to hear his friend laugh heartily. “She’s very…”
“Different?” Darrin suggested with a cocked eyebrow.
“Yes,” Felix agreed. “Different.”
“Her mother was the same.” Darrin smiled wistfully. “On my wedding day, I felt as if I were riding out to do battle with a dragon. But don't worry, lad, that’s natural. A man, especially a king, needs a woman to keep him humble.”
“Well, she seems to have a talent for it,” Felix said. “I only hope she’ll be gentle with this poor king and his household.”
“As to that…” Darrin's smile faded slightly. “Felix, you’ve seen that she’s not like other women, but this is no mere quirk of character. She goes where she will—you mustn’t try to keep her fettered within your hall. The heavens and mountains know that I’ve tried and it has only led to sorrow. She is… as she is, and you must take her so, or leave her. You will soon be my son in name as well as sentiment, but if I find
you have made her unhappy I will fetch her home, wedding vows or no.”
Felix frowned. “The Skylands are dangerous, my lord. There are still nests of bandits and wildmen that have yet to be dealt with. I’ll not have my wife wander about with no protection.”
“Keela is well able to protect herself and intelligent enough to know when she cannot,” Darrin said firmly. “I have striven to make it so, ever since I realized that any attempt to hold her is certain to be met with failure at best and catastrophe at worst. I’ll warn you once more, Felix, and then I hope I won’t ever find it necessary to speak of this again. She is no docile sparrow and will not long survive a cage, gilded or otherwise.”
Felix struggled internally for several long moments, then sighed. “Something my father used to say comes to mind.”
“What is that?” Darrin inquired warily.
“He always warned me never to give a command which I know will not be obeyed,” Felix said with a wry smile. “No doubt his advice will serve me well in the coming years.”
“Just so, my friend.” Darrin laughed, looking relieved. “Come, it’s high time we joined the festivities.”
Felix followed his friend to the banquet hall, looking forward to a nice, bracing meal. To his dismay, he received not beef and ale but at least seven different kinds of fish and several creatures that looked like giant insects. It took the combined efforts of Darrin and his sons to convince him that the things were indeed edible. Although the flesh was mild and sweet, all the tentacles and claws made it impossible to really enjoy the dish. To take his mind off the skeletal limbs adorning his plate, he inquired after the princess.
“Has she still not come home?” Goran asked, looking alarmed. “I thought Father—”
“No, no, she has,” Felix hastened to assure him. “I spoke with her earlier. I only wondered why she hasn't arrived yet—to the feast, I mean. She said she was going to dress.”
The Roots Of Our Magic Page 15
