by Effie Calvin
Vitaliya could not be angry at her mother for that.
The entire country had mourned her loss, and Vitaliya had always assumed her father would never remarry, or if he did, it would surely be a political alliance because how could he ever love someone the way he had loved Isabetta?
“What’s the matter?” asked Ioanna, and Vitaliya realized she’d been glaring at the surface of the water. She looked up and smiled.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just thinking too hard. Not about you—about my family.”
“Your family?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Vitaliya waved her hand. “It’s nothing, especially compared to all this.”
“I’m sure you’d like to send a courier to your father?”
“No!”
“But he must be concerned—”
“I want him to be concerned,” said Vitaliya. “I want him to be sorry.”
Ioanna didn’t say anything, but Vitaliya could sense she did not quite approve of this.
“Don’t worry!” cried Vitaliya. “I mean it! My problems are so silly compared to yours. I don’t want you to be thinking about them. Really.”
“If you insist,” murmured Ioanna.
“Shh, let’s talk about something else,” said Vitaliya. “Tell me what the Order of the Sun wants to do. Are there enough of them to stand against the army?”
“No,” said Ioanna. “At least, not under ordinary circumstances. But most of our soldiers are in Masim right now. So long as they’re not called back, I think we might have a chance. Knight-Commander Livius wants us to recruit more supporters. Enough to get into the city before the coronation. But it’s not enough just to gather an army. We need to be able to feed them, get them weapons, and possibly train them if they’ve only ever been farmers or laborers in the past.”
“Well…” Vitaliya’s voice trailed off as she realized she had no idea where one might even begin with that. “How are you going to do it?”
“Grandmother thinks we can get support from some of the lesser noble families. I don’t mean to doubt her, but—”
“Families that aren’t at court, you mean?”
“Yes, primarily.”
“That makes sense,” said Vitaliya. “With everything we’ve seen, I mean. Doesn’t it? Everyone in the palace has to act happy with the emperor—or maybe they really are happy, I don’t know. But out here, there’s no pretending, is there?”
“I suppose not. Still, I can’t imagine any of them agreeing. If I fail, they’ll lose everything.”
“Given how things are going, they’re going to lose everything either way,” pointed out Vitaliya. “That is, unless they all pick up with Acydon. I still can’t believe we met a chaos god, by the way. And I can’t believe he was just some man with bad clothes.”
“Well, he was only a very little god,” said Ioanna. “And his domain was only apathy. I don’t expect he’ll ever become very influential.”
“Do you think you’ll send the Order of the Sun after him?”
“I don’t think he should be our priority right now. There’s so much else that needs to be done. And I know Iolar would hate for those people to go on worshipping him, but maybe it’s for the best right now. He didn’t lie when he said he’s done more for them than the nobility has.”
“That’s not your fault,” said Vitaliya. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” murmured Ioanna. “But I can’t help but wonder, if I’d only known about this before…if I could have changed things. How many of our citizens died of starvation while I sat in a palace?”
“You can’t think like that! You’re going to make everything so much better. People are going to love you.”
Ioanna was the first to step out of the bath, wrapping herself in one of the soft linen sheets that had been left near the edge for drying. Vitaliya watched as she got up and went to the wardrobe to select a new dress. Unlike the one she had been wearing for the last few days, this one was made of fine, light material and had a long skirt that reached her ankles.
Vitaliya pulled herself out of the water with a great deal of reluctance. She did not want to put her old dress back on, given the state of it. Somehow, she had not noticed how awful and stained and dirty it had become when they’d been traveling. But now, she could think of nothing else. She only pulled it on because the alternative was walking around with nothing on, and even though that might have been acceptable in Xytae, she would not be able to bring herself to do it. Then she went to go find Netheia’s room.
The first door in the direction Ioanna had indicated was in fact the same one Vitaliya had been shown to yesterday. She hadn’t spent much time in it since there were so many other rooms to explore, but the decorations suggested it was Netheia’s. Weapons hung from every wall—though even Vitaliya could tell most of them were ornamental and far too impractical to ever use in a real fight.
She opened the wardrobe and began to sort through the dresses. Luckily, Netheia was larger than her sister, or at least not as thin. She selected a midlength dress in pale-blue fabric and was relieved when it fit nicely.
More out of nosiness than necessity, Vitaliya continued to search through the standing wardrobe. She pulled open the drawer at the base and found more folded clothing. As she lifted a few of the garments up, she uncovered a small coin purse and a short dagger in a sheath.
Vitaliya unsheathed the dagger carefully. She thought it might be blunt or rusty since Netheia hadn’t mentioned visiting her grandmother recently, but it seemed sharp. And unlike the weapons on the wall, this one was obviously meant to be used. It was small enough she was able to slide it into her shirt. She did not think she would need it inside the former empress’s villa, but she’d spent the last few days feeling so vulnerable that she did not think it would hurt to carry it with her.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Vitaliya hurried to open it. Ioanna was waiting there for her.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “I’m sure they’ve prepared something for us to eat.”
Vitaliya hadn’t really expected Ioanna to wait for her, especially since it seemed she had so much to do, and so the inclusion warmed her. She liked being with Ioanna, despite their differences, and hoped Ioanna was starting to feel the same way.
The stereotype of the devoted follower of Iolar was not precisely a pleasant one—a person who prized order over compassion and ritual over meaning, obsessed with rules and hierarchies, and generally opposed to having fun. But she didn’t think Ioanna fit that image. Yes, anyone could see she had a very strict sense of justice and preferred peace and quiet over noise and chaos, but there was more to her. In fact, Vitaliya suspected her reserved nature had less to do with her devotion to Iolar and more to do with her upbringing, and her fear of what the consequences of expressing herself honestly might be.
And, of course, there was the matter of her blessing. Truthsayers featured in legends far more frequently than they did in reality. Vitaliya paused to examine her feelings on this. Was she afraid of Ioanna? No. Not really. Did she feel as though she must watch her words, or to think carefully before she spoke in her presence? Again, no. Was that foolish? Perhaps. But Vitaliya had no intention of deceiving Ioanna. Keeping track of lies tended to be more trouble than it was worth.
Ioanna led Vitaliya down the halls and into a large dining room, which had been set with food but contained no people, not even Irianthe’s servants. They sat down beside each other to eat.
“I wonder how Otho is doing,” murmured Vitaliya around a too-large mouthful of bread. “I’ll be so sad if he left without saying goodbye.”
“He better not have,” said Ioanna. “We’ve got to reward him for his trouble. And I’d feel better if he remained here until this is settled. He could be in danger.”
“I don’t know if you’ll be able to convince him. He’s going to want to get back to his villages. Especially at this time of year.”
“I know,” sighed Ioanna. “But if
something happens to him just because he aided us, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“What do you think might happen?” asked Vitaliya. “None of those priestesses would have any way of knowing he helped us. They’d leave him alone. Wouldn’t they?”
“I’m not sure,” murmured Ioanna. “I just have this feeling it’s not only priestesses after us. Do you remember what Acydon said? That she’d coerced more people over to her side?”
“He was telling the truth?” Even knowing Ioanna’s blessing, Vitaliya was skeptical. Surely a chaos god would have lied? Just on principle? “Well, who else would Netheia send?”
“I don’t think he was talking about Netheia at all,” said Ioanna.
“Who, then? Your mother?”
The sound of sharp footsteps on the cold tile floor cut off whatever Ioanna was about to say. Both young women turned to see Irianthe enter the dining room.
“Finally, there you are,” she said. “Ioanna, finish quickly and come to my study. We must begin planning.”
“I’ll come too,” said Vitaliya.
“That will not be necessary,” Grandmother Irianthe replied in a clipped, impatient tone. “This matter does not concern Vesolda.”
“It’s all right, Vitaliya,” murmured Ioanna. “It’s probably going to be very boring anyway. You should find out where Otho went. And I’ll come find you when I’m finished.”
Vitaliya was not happy to be excluded, but she decided she would try to cooperate for Ioanna’s sake. And besides, while she wanted to be near Ioanna, especially now, she had to admit she was not at her most attentive during meetings of statecraft.
Vitaliya decided to go in search of the stables, for she knew Otho’s wagon had been brought there after their arrival. She didn’t exactly know the way but decided that trying to find it on her own, rather than asking for help, might be a good way to pass the time while she waited for Ioanna to return.
Vitaliya made her way through the enormous garden, brushing the plants with her fingertips as she passed. She did not press any magic into them, for they would bloom in their own time, but she liked to feel the life pulsing through them and to sense their slow, steady breathing.
As she came to the center of the garden where all the plants converged symmetrically around a large, empty fountain, she realized she was not alone. A woman was sitting on one of the low stone benches, her hands in her lap and her expression distant. From the plain, simple way she was dressed, Vitaliya might have mistaken her for a servant, but she wore no apron or head coverings, and her hands were soft and smooth.
“Hello,” said Vitaliya, not wanting to sneak up on the woman. But nevertheless, she startled, rising briefly but sharply from where she was seated.
“Oh!” said the woman. “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“I’m sorry,” said Vitaliya. “I should have…”
“No, no. It’s not my garden.” The woman smiled. Something about her face made it difficult for Vitaliya to gauge how old she was. “I don’t think I’ve met you yet. Did you arrive with the princess?”
“Yes, I’m Vitaliya. Of Vesolda.” She regretted that second part the moment the words left her, for she did not want the woman to become tense or overly formal. But the woman did not seem surprised. Perhaps she had already been told who Vitaliya was.
“I am Elyne. Of nowhere. Everywhere. Anywhere.” Elyne’s smile grew wider as though she was telling a joke. “I’m glad Ioanna didn’t have to make the journey alone.”
“I was searching for the priest who came in with us. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, and we’re afraid he’ll sneak off without saying goodbye.”
“The one with all the animals? I saw him earlier. You might be right about him leaving, though. I don’t think he’s comfortable here. Too tidy.”
“I was afraid of that,” sighed Vitaliya. “Well, Ioanna and I wanted to give him some sort of reward. If not for him, I don’t think we’d have made it here.”
“Priests aren’t easily rewarded. The good ones, I mean. And Cyne’s tend to lean more heavily toward good than some others I might name.”
That was a curious observation, but Vitaliya could not quite disagree with it. “Are you with the Order of the Sun?”
“Not precisely. I’m here with one of the paladins, but I’m not a member of the Order.”
“Well, don’t feel bad. They won’t let me in the meeting either.”
Elyne laughed. “I’m sure it would put me to sleep. Still, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the princess. I haven’t seen her since she was small.”
“Well, she’s about my age now,” said Vitaliya. “When did you meet her?”
“It was twelve, thirteen years ago, I think? And not for very long. An hour, at most. Her aunt was trying to sacrifice her to a chaos god.”
“What!” Vitaliya felt her jaw drop. “She—she what?”
“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Elyne didn’t sound concerned, though. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Maybe she’s forgotten.”
“I don’t think that’s the sort of thing you forget!”
“It wasn’t as dramatic as you’re imagining. We managed to get her to safety before anything could happen. The cultists didn’t even have a chance to lay a hand on her.”
“But why did they want her?”
“Well, she’s a very important young woman. She’s going to shape the future of this nation. Perhaps even the continent. Not everyone wants the same things she does.”
“But she was only…what, five years old? How could anyone—”
“Oh, people will do just about anything when their lives are at stake. And so will gods,” said Elyne. “Count yourself lucky that you’ve never felt such desperation.”
Vitaliya sat down on one of the stone benches, her plans to find Otho temporarily forgotten. “I can’t imagine,” she murmured. “How terrible. And how terrible for Ioanna.”
“She’s not quite safe yet,” Elyne advised. “I’ll do my best to keep an eye out, but I’m not sure where to expect an attack from next. Be careful, won’t you? Don’t trust anyone too easily.”
“She, she said something similar this morning. But I don’t think Netheia would attack here, do you? Ioanna seemed to think Oredia was a sort of neutral ground.”
“Netheia?” repeated Elyne. She sounded confused. “Oh! The sister. I forgot about her.”
“She’s the one we’re fighting,” said Vitaliya, her brow knotting in concern. “This whole thing is her fault—”
The corner of Elyne’s mouth twitched as though she was fighting back a laugh. Suddenly, inexplicably, Vitaliya thought of Acydon, lounging on his fence. She really doesn’t know! he had marveled, speaking to Ioanna as though Vitaliya wasn’t even there. Why in the world does she think you’re out here to begin with?
“What’s going on?” Vitaliya asked slowly.
In that moment, Elyne seemed so indescribably old. Older than her father, older than Grandmother Irianthe, older than the oldest person Vitaliya had ever seen. Her face had not changed, nor had her body. It was something about her eyes.
“The Ten are quarreling,” Elyne said. “What you’re witnessing between Ioanna and her sister is merely a reflection of what’s happening in Asterium. It’s been centuries in the making. Don’t underestimate the importance, or the scope, of what is happening in Xytae.”
Vitaliya did not know what to say to this. Of course, she had never doubted the existence of the gods—how could anyone when they granted blessings so freely? But to hear someone say they were taking an active role in events was a little more difficult to believe. Vitaliya had been taught the gods preferred to stand back and observe and allow Men to live their own lives. And in her experience, people who claimed to know the will of the gods beyond what they’d already mandated to their followers tended to have some sort of ulterior motive.
But Elyne did not give her the impression of a fanatic, nor of someone angling for a political advantage. She was calm and
certain like a seer, and Vitaliya got the impression she didn’t care very much if Vitaliya believed her words.
“I—I should go,” said Vitaliya. “I’ve got to catch Otho before he leaves.”
Elyne nodded, and her eyes went distant once more as though she was listening to something that Vitaliya could not hear.
As expected, she found Otho in the stables. The stables were not part of the villa; rather, they’d been built outside the high walls just a short walk away so the smell of the horses would not pollute the residential areas.
“I hope you weren’t going to sneak away,” said Vitaliya as she entered the stable. Otho turned, and she saw he’d already hitched Daisy to the wagon. “Oooh, you were! How rude of you.”
Otho gave her a guilty smile and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Princess Vitaliya—”
“Oh, no. Now I’m a princess.” Vitaliya struck herself in the forehead, then shifted her hand to see if this had made him laugh. “Are you going to refuse us when we try to give you a reward?”
“There is no need for—”
“I knew it!” Vitaliya considered dropping to the ground dramatically but changed her mind after taking a closer look at the stable floor. “Let me hug the chickens goodbye. I’m not going to hug you, though. I’m very cross with you.”
“You don’t need me here,” said Otho. “I’d only be in the way, and I’m sure the empress mother has no use for me. But if it helps at all, I do believe Cyne guided me to you. And I believe nothing I accomplish in the future will be of greater importance than what I’ve done here.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” Vitaliya cried. “You’re going to help so many more people—and animals, of course—”
“Certainly, I hope that is the case,” agreed Otho. “And I am glad to do it. But I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say what is being planned here concerns all of Xytae, and perhaps even lands beyond.”
“You won’t stay, then?” asked Vitaliya. “Not even for a few more days?”
“My people will worry if I am missing for too long. And I am not meant to remain in such luxury. It is beautiful here, but it’s not where I’m meant to be. I prefer the roads and the open fields, and knowing I’m doing Cyne’s work.”
