“Of course there was,” said King Calinnae. “The process of integrating such a large number of Kyonans, some of whom had never even set foot in the kingdom, most of whom were traumatized from being either sold or born into slavery, was never going to be straightforward. There were some who didn’t want to see homes, and jobs and farmland go to the freedmen, and I won’t deny that some of the former slaves were not able to put their anger and trauma behind them sufficiently to live honest lives. For the first few years we had our work cut out for us.”
He shook his head. “But that was almost twenty years ago. At the time we spent a great deal of energy convincing the freedmen that they needed to engage with the rest of the country, that they weren’t going to be allowed to live in isolated communities of their own. We were trying to avoid exactly what’s happening now—ongoing division and suspicion. And we thought we had succeeded. In time they did integrate—the complaints died down on both sides, and everyone seemed to prosper, more or less.”
“So what’s changed?” Jocelyn asked.
She knew she was betraying an unusual interest in such a weighty matter of state, but she thought it was worth the risk. Her unease had been growing ever since her father used the word “crisis”, and she needed to find out just how bad things were. If her kingdom was in trouble, she wanted to help. And, depressing as it was, the best way to do that would be to disappear completely. Suddenly a summer in Valoria was looking like her most responsible option.
“I don’t know,” answered her father simply, looking defeated. “Even Jonan doesn’t seem to understand it at all, and he’s closer to the issue than anyone.”
Jocelyn nodded at the mention of her father’s oldest and closest friend. He and his wife were the leaders of the community of Raldon in the nearby Forest of Rune. The settlement had been formed to provide a home for a significant number of the freedmen, along with some of the former rebels who had helped her father reclaim his ancestors’ throne before she was born. It was now a thriving forest town.
“Not quite closer than anyone,” she said absently, speaking aloud before she thought it through. “He was never a slave, was he?”
Her father hadn’t seemed to be listening, still lost in his thoughts, but his forehead suddenly creased in a frown. “I wonder if Jo is missing something,” he said to himself. “Maybe the freedmen don’t have as much faith in him as I thought.”
Jocelyn shot a frightened look at Eamon. He shook his head slightly, his expression reassuring, but she decided she had pushed her luck too far, and it was time to change the topic.
“Speaking of the foresters,” she said lightly, “if I do go to Valoria, do you think I could go via Raldon? It would be nice to visit Lucy. I haven’t seen her in weeks, and if I’m going to be away all summer…”
“So you’d like to go?” the queen asked, giving her daughter the piercing look that had so often made Jocelyn wonder how her mother hadn’t read her secret on her face before now.
She shrugged. Wanting didn’t have much to do with it, but she wasn’t about to tell her mother her real reason for leaving Kyona. “I suppose so.”
“Jocelyn, you don’t have to go just because they invited you,” said the king quickly. “I could write back and suggest that you go next summer. After all, you are very young to be going so far alone. I’m sure King Malcolm would not take offense.”
“Well, she doesn’t have to go alone, Father,” said Eamon brightly. “I’ll go with her.”
“No you won’t,” said their father flatly.
“Why not?” Eamon was clearly aggrieved. “You don’t want her to go alone, and I don’t see why I can’t—”
“Because you weren’t invited, for one thing,” said Queen Elnora dryly. “And Joss won’t be alone. She’ll be perfectly safe, so everyone can stop worrying.”
“Well, I’ll at least start the journey with you, Jocelyn,” said Eamon, with dignity. “You’ll feel lonely starting out all by yourself, and it will be more pleasant if I see you through the forest.”
“An excellent idea, Eamon,” said the queen, exchanging an amused smile with her husband that Eamon loftily pretended not to see. “Now we’d better go, or we’ll delay the meal, and have a horde of angry courtiers down on our heads.” She made for the door, stopping to lay a hand briefly on Jocelyn’s cheek on her way past. “We’ll miss you, Joss, but I’m proud of you for taking the opportunity.”
Jocelyn smiled but said nothing, waiting for her parents to disappear through the doorway before turning on her brother. “I’ll feel lonely, will I?” she scoffed. “How considerate you are. As if we don’t all know you couldn’t care less about coming with me. You just want the excuse to see Lucy.”
But apparently Eamon was not in the mood to be baited. “Forget about my love life, Joss, apparently you’ve got your own to worry about. Do you really want to be married off to some dull Valorian prince?”
“Of course I don’t,” she snapped.
“Then why were you so quick to take up this offer?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, there’s probably not much risk of a marriage alliance. Once they realize how dull I am, they’ll probably lose interest.”
“You’re not dull,” said Eamon firmly, but she just shrugged again.
“You know what I mean. Did you hear what Father said about the freedmen not trusting Uncle Jonan?”
“Yes, I did, and you’re reading too much into it. It’s a natural thing for him to wonder. He had probably already had the thought, you probably had nothing to do with it. Mother and Father aren’t usually affected, you know that.”
She shook her head. “It’s getting stronger, Eamon, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
He was silent for a moment too long, and she raised her eyebrows pointedly.
“Fine, I have noticed,” he admitted.
Jocelyn gave him a curious look. “What about yours? I haven’t noticed a difference.”
He shrugged. “Neither have I. And if mine isn’t getting stronger, I have no idea why yours would be.” He gave her an appraising look. “But that’s all the more reason I don’t like the idea of you far away in Valoria all summer.”
Jocelyn smiled to herself. Eamon could chuckle at their father’s protectiveness all he liked, but it wasn’t lost on her that he had inherited the trait in abundance.
“That’s the very reason I’m going,” she said aloud. “You heard Father—the tension over the freedmen is getting worse, and the country is already divided enough. The last thing anyone needs is me hanging around the castle, spreading confusion and chaos every time I open my mouth.”
“That’s ridiculous, Joss,” said Eamon sharply. “You’re not a danger to anyone as long as—”
“As long as I keep my mouth shut,” she finished dully. “I know.”
He frowned. “That’s not what I was going to say. You know I think you restrict yourself much more harshly than you need to. I was going to say as long as we’re careful.”
“We?” Jocelyn asked, a bite in her voice that she couldn’t quite restrain. “I don’t see you having to be careful what you say. Everyone loves it when you speak.”
Eamon looked guilty, and immediately Jocelyn felt remorse. It wasn’t his fault that he had been the arbitrary winner of their particular coin toss.
“We should go to dinner,” she said quickly, to cover her ill-humored remark. “Mother and Father will wonder what’s keeping us.”
“Joss.” His voice was unusually gentle. “I really will miss you while you’re gone.”
“Thanks Brother,” she said, punching his arm as if they were still thirteen. She dodged out of the way of his retaliatory elbow as she led the way out of the room and toward the royal banquet hall. “I’ll miss you too.”
She grinned. “Unless of course I’m having too much of an adventure to think of you at all.”
Chapter Two
Jocelyn had assumed that a state visit would take a long time to organize, but ever
ything came together alarmingly quickly. In only a few short weeks, she found herself on the point of departure. She wouldn’t admit it to her parents, especially as her father looked at her with more concern in his eyes than ever these days, but she felt nervous at the prospect of such a prolonged absence from home.
As promised, Eamon was to accompany her to the Forest of Rune, where she would stay for a few days before going on toward the mountains that separated Kyona from Valoria. After that she would be on her own, which in royal language meant that she would be stifled under the weight of a chaperone, two maidservants, a group of diplomatic officials with their servants and assistants, and an entire squadron of royal guards.
She had always been an early riser, and on the morning of her departure, she was mounted and waiting before the rest of the group had appeared. As she walked her horse up and down the practice yard, she found herself wishing she had risen still earlier so that she might have had time for a last gallop across the hills surrounding Kynton. It would be months before she would have the chance to indulge in one of her favorite pastimes. She supposed the Valorian royals enjoyed riding as well, but it wouldn’t be the same as her own familiar vista.
“Ah, I heard that you had arrived last night. Yes, the council will convene in a couple of hours.”
The lazy voice made her sigh. She had never much liked this particular nobleman. Sir Sanctimonious, Eamon had called him once, and Jocelyn had to agree. He had a loud voice, and a blissful belief that women either couldn’t hear or couldn’t understand anything he didn’t intend for them to know.
She didn’t recognize the nobleman striding across the courtyard with him, but that wasn’t a great surprise. Her father had called a council of nobles to discuss the tension over the freedmen, and lesser nobles had been filtering in from the countryside for the last week. Another reason to get out of Kynton for a while.
She kept her mount steady as the men passed her, hoping to avoid notice. But the stranger glanced over as they walked past, and his companion followed his gaze and saw her.
“Your Highness.”
He gave a stiff half-bow, which his companion mirrored. Jocelyn inclined her head politely.
“Good morning, My Lord. I trust you are well.”
“Indeed,” he replied awkwardly, and Jocelyn groaned inwardly at the man’s obvious discomfort. Even his companion, to whom she hadn’t actually spoken, seemed to be ill-at-ease.
“Don’t let me keep you from your business, My Lords,” she prompted, and the two men gratefully took their leave.
She let out her own relieved breath. She was no stranger to the fact that people tended to feel uncomfortable in her presence, but she didn’t need the reminder. Not now when she was trying to assure herself that her visit to Valoria wouldn’t be an unmitigated disaster.
“That’s the princess, of course,” came the local nobleman’s carrying voice. “Pretty enough, I grant, but sullen. The prince on the other hand, is a fine youth. Very confident, very intelligent.”
Sullen. Stupid. Vapid.
She could list a dozen other uncomplimentary words that she had heard used to describe her habitual silence. She ground her teeth, imagining what she would say to Sir Sanctimonious if she decided to pay no heed to the consequences. How satisfying it would be. It was tempting to do it out of spite, just to watch the man self-destruct as she could surely make him.
But no. She sighed. A princess should be above such a petty sentiment as spite.
“Jocelyn!”
She started guiltily at her mother’s voice, hoping her face didn’t betray her thoughts too clearly.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“You’re early, Joss. So eager to be gone from us?” The queen’s voice was slightly wistful, and Jocelyn dismounted to give her mother an embrace.
“Of course not. To be honest, I was trying to ride out my nerves.”
“You don’t have to go, Joss,” said her mother quickly. “It’s not too late to change your mind if this isn’t really what you want. If I pushed too hard—”
“Of course you didn’t,” said Jocelyn, trying to restrain her irritation. “I chose to go, and I’m not regretting it. Just a little nervous.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” said her mother. “But I’m sure you’ll be glad you went, once you have a chance to settle in. You will write, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” said Jocelyn, with a smile. “Just promise me you’ll write back, because we both know neither Father nor Eamon will.”
The queen acknowledged it with a laugh just as the culprits themselves strolled into the courtyard together, deep in conversation. Eamon was leaning his head toward his father attentively, a richly embroidered traveling cloak around his shoulders. His expression was grave, but Jocelyn thought that his step had an eager spring to it.
There was no opportunity to hear the topic of their discussion, however, because as soon as they approached, the king turned his full attention on his daughter.
“So you’re really leaving, Jocelyn,” he said. She couldn’t help but be warmed by his melancholy expression, as much as his anxiety exasperated her.
“Only for the summer, Father.”
“We’ll miss you around here. Don’t grow too fond of Valoria.”
Jocelyn smiled. “To please you Father, I will aim to dislike everything and everyone I see.”
Her father chuckled at her joke as he gave her a quick squeeze, despite the public setting. He must really be feeling sentimental. Perhaps the memory of his own battle to avoid having a marriage arranged for him had brought out this fierce affection. Stepping back, he held her at arm’s length, examining her face as if trying to read her thoughts.
“You know, it’s not too late if you want to—”
“No need, Father,” she said, stopping him with an upraised hand. “Mother and I have already done this. I’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” Eamon chimed in, swinging himself up into the saddle of the horse that a servant had led across the practice yard at his appearance. “You’ll be much better than fine. Look at you, the picture of grace and poise—fair enough to snag any prince, wise enough to be a desirable queen for any kingdom, noble enough to—”
“We get the idea, thank you Eamon,” Queen Elnora cut in. Eamon grinned at his family, unperturbed by the glares his flippant words had incurred from all three of them.
“Feeling full of spirit at the thought of seeing your sweet Luciana today, are you Eamon?” returned Jocelyn maliciously, trying to turn the conversation. Their father looked like he was reconsidering the whole idea ever since Eamon’s mention of her snagging a prince.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Eamon loftily, apparently as unconcerned by his family’s amusement as he had been by their disapproval.
The rest of their entourage had arrived by this time, and they all took a more formal leave. The start of the Forest of Rune lay only a few minutes’ ride from the city gate, and it took a matter of about four hours to reach Raldon on horseback.
The journey was uneventful, the route being familiar to both Jocelyn and Eamon, who had traveled it more times than they could count. It seemed like half their childhood had been spent either visiting their second family in the forest, or receiving them at the capital. The dappled light of the trees was soothing and restful, and as they pressed deeper into the hush of their shade, Jocelyn found herself wishing she was staying longer with Lucy before leaving for Valoria.
Despite the pomp and ceremony of all the extra bodies, the group made good time and, having set out early, reached their destination comfortably before noon. Jocelyn had learned to ride when she was a small child and was an excellent horsewoman. But it had been a while since she had ridden for as long as four hours without a break, and she was very happy to slide out of the saddle by the time they arrived.
“Jocelyn!”
She had hardly gotten her bearings before she was engulfed by the enthusiastic embrace of her best
friend.
“You’re finally here. How has it been so many weeks since you’ve come? And now you’re leaving me for the whole summer! No Benjy, let her breathe!”
“Let’s not talk about that yet, Lucy,” Jocelyn complained, extricating herself with difficulty from a boisterous hug from Benjamin, Luciana’s youngest brother. “We’ve got three days, let’s just enjoy that. Hello, Benjy, let me look at you! What’s this? I thought you were ten!”
“I am ten!” said Benjamin, his eyes wide.
“Then how is that you look so grown up?”
Benjy puffed out his chest, beaming, but he was quickly brought down to size by a new voice.
“She’s just saying that to make you feel good, Benjy, don’t get conceited. You’re as much a runt as ever. Hi Joss.”
“Hello Miles,” said Jocelyn, torn between amusement and exasperation at the lofty air assumed by the next brother up. He evidently felt that at twelve he had the world figured out enough to lord it over his little brother. But he had already lost interest in her, turning to the true object of his devotion.
“Hi Eamon! I’m glad you’ve come! I got a new charger, you should see him. And Father has been teaching me to use a bow and arrow!”
“Charger?” scoffed the final piece of this energetic puzzle. “You’re calling that slug of a pony a charger? Hello Joss.”
“Matheus,” greeted Jocelyn. She restrained a chuckle at the fourteen-year-old’s assumed air of nonchalance as he leaned against a tree, eating an apple and clearly trying hard not to look like he was vying for Eamon’s attention.
“Polo is not a slug!” Miles cried, firing up immediately in defense of his mount.
“Well, clearly I’ll have to see him to judge for myself,” said Eamon diplomatically, looking like he was holding back a smile of his own.
“Ugh, brothers,” complained Luciana as an aside to Jocelyn. “You’re very lucky you only have one, and that he’s older.”
“I’m not sure that a difference of eight minutes really counts as ‘older’,” countered Jocelyn, watching Eamon with long-suffering amusement as he turned his attention to her best friend.
Legacy of the Curse Page 2
