“Very well.” He took my hand and kissed it. “I cannot deny my wife’s wishes. She shall have use of my diviner to see her through the delivery of our child.” He leaned in to whisper to me, “Remember, Maea, who you belong to.”
Chapter Nineteen
The servant led me to Sabine’s chamber. Why call me now, when her child is about to be born? I had little enough knowledge of healing. Just what my grandmother had taught me. Sabine would not know that. When I left Keisan I was just a girl with the gift to see into the future. The servant knocked on the chamber door. It seemed to echo for a moment before it swung open. Duchess Magdale stood within. Her blond hair was braided down her back, and she was wearing a tan gown with flowers embroidered on the bodice.
She looked to the servant and then to me, and her lips curled back in a sneer. “Her Majesty’s labor pains have begun. She is not seeing anyone at the moment.”
“Her Majesty asked for Lady Diranel to be brought to her,” the servant said.
She scoffed. “The queen sent for the king’s whore? I doubt that.”
Her insult stung more than I liked to admit. Even if I had not brought Adair to my bed, I had all but let him. He had paraded me before the entire palace like some award-winning mare. You let him kiss you and touch you without raising a complaint, in front of the court nonetheless. It only made sense that rumors would circulate.
“Ester, let her in,” Sabine called from within.
Ester Magdale scowled at me once more before stepping aside and letting me into the room. Inside, the candles had burned low. Only a single oil lamp remained on the bedside table. Sabine was sitting in her bed, her lower back propped up by pillows, and an open book lay in her lap. When I entered, I fell into a low bow. My skirts brushed against the stone floor. I felt Sabine watching me, my onetime companion. Now, however, I felt the distance between us. You are not the person I thought you were, and I am not the person I used to be. Does she hate me for cavorting with her husband?
“Duchess Diranel, thank you for coming. You may rise; there is no need to bow,” Sabine said. Her tone was soft, wistful almost.
I regained my feet, and Sabine smiled at me. For a moment I glimpsed the girl I thought I had known long ago. Beau’s words echoed through my mind. She told me to bring you back here. She wanted you here. I dared not share her smile or slip back into the girls we had been. Sabine had wanted to use me just as everyone else. Now things were different. I had a part to play here, as did she.
“You summoned me, Your Majesty?” I kept my tone formal.
Sabine’s expression dropped. She grimaced and clutched at her stomach.
I forgot my need for distance and rushed to her side. “What is it? Is the baby coming?” I fretted as I ran through a mental checklist of things I would need to help deliver the baby. I never got the chance before, but I think I know enough about the how to be of some help.
She laughed. “No, the pains have only just begun. The magiker tells me the baby will not arrive for some time yet.” Sabine readjusted her position. She looked to Duchess Magdale, who was hovering at the foot of the bed. “Could you get me something to drink?”
The duchess gave me a parting sneer before going into the chamber adjoining Sabine’s. I took a step back. I had expected to find Sabine in the throes of labor, screaming out in pain as the child forced its way out of her body. Why am I here? What benefit do I give you?
“I’m sorry we have to be reunited in this way. I had hoped… well, it does not matter. I am glad you are here.” She reached out for my hand. She squeezed briefly and smiled at me. What can she be plotting from her childbed? What could she hope to gain? She is the queen already; she denied Beau. None of this makes sense.
Duchess Magdale reemerged with a few goblets of wine and set them down. Sabine took a sip from her cup before lying back against the headboard. She seemed tired. The child she will give birth to is a sign of the end. I have seen visions of him long ago, before Adair and Sabine were wed, that their son would be a cruel and twisted creature like his father. It seems strange to think a child of hers could be like that. Maybe the prophecy is wrong, and he will be a good man. It could have been one possible future. I put my thoughts aside for the time being.
“What can I do to help you?” I asked.
Duchess Magdale retreated to the far side of the room. There was an alcove with windows on three sides. A pair of chairs had been set there, and that is where the duchess sat. She picked up a bit of embroidery and worked on it. A casual observer would think she was ignoring us; I did not believe that for a moment. Duchess Magdale had been complacent in charging me with treason. It was in part due to her testimony that I had been sentenced to death by the council. I would have died back then if Johai hadn’t saved me.
“Stay with me; keep me company. The magiker thinks this will be a long labor. Though Ester would like to, she cannot stay by my side through the night. I thought you would be willing to share the load with her,” Sabine said. For a moment it was like no time had passed at all. It was as if I had not been exiled for nearly a year.
She told me to bring you back here. Beau’s words continued to haunt me.
I turned away from her. There was a chair by her bedside. I sat down beside her. She gasped as another pain rippled through her body. She clutched the bed sheets and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as the pain receded. “Would you read for me, your grace?” Sabine asked when she could speak once more. She handed me a novel, which was dog-eared. I opened to the page she requested. Inside a note was tucked. I schooled my features to neutral.
Magdale is his spy. Be careful what you say.
I did not look at her, though I felt Sabine watching me expectantly. Who is Magdale spying for? I wondered. There was no shortage of suitable puppet masters. Her own husband had passed away, but his son remained. Duke Delonty had said many ill-favored dukes had died suddenly after Adair took the throne. Did Duchess Magdale have a hand in her husband’s death? Would that make her Adair’s creature? The king has his men, and the queen has hers. That’s what Layton had told me. What is Sabine’s goal? What do I have to do with it? I wished I could ask her outright, but that was not possible. I turned the page and began reading. I read for long into the night, pausing when Sabine’s pain grew stronger and more intense. We said nothing other than the obligatory. Late in the night, Duchess Magdale sagged into her chair and slumped over before startling and sitting back up.
“You can rest, Ester,” Sabine said in a soothing tone. “The babe will not come for some time.”
“I could not think to do such a thing, Your Majesty. It is my duty as your head lady-in-waiting to stay beside you until the child is born.”
“You must think of your own health.” Sabine readjusted once again and winced as she did so. I jumped up to straighten her pillow and handed her a drink of water when she was done. Duchess Magdale was watching us with cloudy eyes. She was exhausted; that much was plain. I can relate. My own eyes were growing heavy with a need for sleep.
The duchess looked down and rested a hand upon her abdomen. When she looked up again, our eyes met. She flushed and looked away, and then something occurred to me. The duchess rose to her feet. Beneath the layers of silk of her gown, I saw the swell of a child. I did a quick calculation in my head. Duke Magdale had died six months ago or thereabout. The duchess was pregnant, perhaps a few months more advanced than me, but I could not say with certainty it was far enough to be the Duke’s child. Was the child conceived before he died? Duchess Magdale bowed to Sabine as she exited. When the door closed behind her, the room fell to silence.
“I think I will close my eyes for a while. You probably want to sleep as well,” Sabine said.
I did, but I was more curious about the duchess. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Sabine watched me go without a word. I slipped out of the chamber into the hall. The duchess had not left but was standing just outside the door in the corridor as I thought she would.
“You think you have risen high,” she spat. “I was like you once. He told me he loved me, that I would want for nothing. All I had to do was follow his instructions, but once he was done with me, all that was left was shame and a swelling belly. He will discard you when convenient. Do not think because you carry his child you are safe.”
“You assume too much. I do not carry the king’s child. You might have had a husband to cuckold, but I do not. My daughter shall wear her bastardy with honor.”
Duchess Magdale paled. I had guessed right; Adair was the father of her child. I realized I pitied her. Adair had used her as he had so many women, as he would use me if it were his choice. What was worse was I suspected he used her to get rid of those who opposed him. He probably convinced her to kill her husband, and once it was done, he had no more use for her. This is what comes from dancing with fire. You are only left burned and heartbroken.
“My child is not a bastard. My husband was able to get me with child before he died.” She was taking a step back as if to escape. I grabbed her wrist to stop her from fleeing.
“Do not presume to lie to me. I am a diviner, and I can see into the past as well as the future. Your child was conceived outside of wedlock. I know it is Adair’s child you carry because he would have done the same to me if I did not already carry another man’s child. Why are you protecting him when he has treated you so ill?”
She wrenched free of my grasp. “Do not think to lump me in with you. I have noble lines without tarnish, as will my child.” She turned on her heel and hurried down the hallway away from me. I shook my head. I was sad for her more than anything.
With her gone, I knew it was safe to return to Sabine. When I entered, she was lying on her side facing the wall. I took a few steps towards the bed. Sabine did not move, but I could sense she had not fallen asleep.
“The duchess is gone,” I said.
She leaned up on her elbow to look at me. “What did you say to get her to leave?”
“I told her the truth,” I replied. I dragged the chair over to the other side of the bed and faced Sabine. She lay back down, her hand resting on the rise of her stomach. She was near bursting, it seemed. I could see the child rolling about underneath her skin.
Silence stretched out for a time. “I fear for my son,” she said at last.
I reached out a hand to touch her but stopped at the last moment. “Why? Your labor has only just begun; there is no need to worry needlessly.”
“I am not worried about his birth, but his life. I have dreamed—terrible things.” She closed her eyes for a moment.
I could feel her fear. I shared the same. I had seen a vision of her son, a cruel man upon a throne. It is not too late to change that destiny.
“I fear he will be trapped in this game as I have. Feel the heartaches I have felt, know what it means to love and never touch or express yourself as you want. I want him to be free.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the first time I had seen her cry. I fought back my own tears. No matter what she has done or planned to do, she is a mother who fears for the future of her child. “Move over,” I said.
She moved to the edge of the bed, and I lay down beside her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and she rested her head against my chest. We stayed like that for a moment, holding on to one another, drawing strength from each other. We were at times two birds in a gilded cage, unable to fly free. Maybe we still are those birds, maybe we’ll never be free of the politics, but the least I can do is make it a better world, a safer cage. Our stomachs touched, and I could feel Sabine’s son kicking against the walls of the womb. Then from within my own I felt a faint fluttering like the beating of butterfly wings. Sabine’s son stopped moving, and Sabine looked me in the eye for a moment.
“You are pregnant?” She had not felt my child kick, I could hardly feel her movements myself, but she had sensed her son’s reaction. It was as if they were communicating with one another in a language we could not speak. “Is it Adair’s?” Sabine said in a hushed voice. Perhaps she felt the communion between our children and assumed they were siblings. What I felt just then was something deeper, something difficult to explain; it was like two souls reaching out to one another. I knew my daughter was a child of great power, but perhaps Sabine’s son would not only be destined for destruction, perhaps he was one who held great power as well.
I laid my hand over my swelling stomach. “No, she is Johai’s. I think she is calling out to your son. Maybe their destinies are intertwined.”
“My son? How do you know it will be a boy?”
I petted her brow and pushed back the curls that fell loose from her braid to frame her face. “I saw him in the waters long ago. I have known before you married Adair that you would have a son, and he would do great things.” I dared not tell her the truth. I could not bring myself to tell her that I saw dark road for her son as well.
She let the tears fall onto the pillows. “I am glad.”
We lay like that a while longer. We dozed for a while until the pains increased. I helped Sabine from the bed then, and we walked about the room. She would stop from time to time to lean against a bedpost or a chair and breathe through the pain. When the pain continued to increase, she kneeled on all fours on the mattress. The magiker came in the early hours of the morning, along with Duchess Magdale. I was kneeling on the bed beside Sabine, rubbing circles in her lower back, which was giving her some pain. She moaned, and I felt the ripple of pain as it constricted her abdomen. Her moaning grew in intensity, and she clutched at the coverlet and groaned. When it ended, she collapsed onto the bed, panting.
The magiker examined her and said that the time was not ready. People moved in and out of the room in a blur. Servants brought cold cloths for Sabine’s brow. She sipped at water and twisted about in her sheets unable to get comfortable. I stayed near her and slept in brief snatches when I could. We walked around the room when she had the energy, and once I held her up as the contraction struck her. I felt the pains ripple through her skin, and they reminded me of the crash of ocean waves. I could hear the waves outside calling to her, begging her to hold on as the pain increased. The magiker came in and out to check her progress. The day passed by without me realizing it.
When night came, the magiker pulled me aside.
“She is not progressing, and the child is not in position to be born,” he told me bluntly. “She is growing weaker, and if the child does not come soon, she and the child will both die.”
“What can we do?” I asked.
“Pray.”
I urged Sabine to rest, but the pains were close together, and she found little respite from her labors. Another night passed, the magiker checked again; the child was still not in position. The time to push was not yet upon us. I slept in snatches, mostly dozing sitting in a chair or once leaning against the wall while trying to fetch something for Sabine. The rest of the night faded by, and I found I could work with little sleep. Sabine’s head was burning up, and I did what I could to keep her cool. She was panting and moaning, writhing about on the bed sheets. She clung to the sheets and arched her back, looking for relief. I watched her, thinking of my own pregnancy. Is this childbirth? Somehow I had different expectations about bringing a child into the world. My hand drifted to my abdomen.
Duchess Magdale noticed. “See what a night of pleasure gets you, nothing but pain, blood, and loss.”
I ignored her snide remark and focused on Sabine. Each time the magiker came, he shook his head and the furrow of his brow grew deeper and deeper. Sabine was tired. Too tired to push when the time came, the magiker feared. I have seen this child; I know he will live. You must hold on.
The morning came, and Sabine lay limp upon the sheets, which were soaked through with sweat. I did what I could to keep her comfortable, but the black circles under her eyes and her listlessness were concerning. Duchess Magda
le had gone for the night, and the magiker was in between visits. I need to do something, or I will lose her and the child.
“Sabine.” I tapped her lightly on the cheek. She had fallen asleep.
Her eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry. I was just so tired. I do not think I can do this, Maea. I love my son, but I cannot do it.”
I held her hands. “You have to keep going, for your son.”
“I am so tired,” she said, and her eyes began to droop once more.
This is not good. She cannot give up. The fever has left her weak and delirious.
I glanced about the room. We were alone at last. “Sabine, I have something to tell you.”
“Hmm?” she said.
“I brought Beau to court, and Adair imprisoned him.”
Her eyes were rolling around behind her lids. “I know.” She moaned as another contraction left her panting.
When it passed, I continued, “He loves you. He has fought by my side so he could return to you. He believed me when I said I would make a way for you to be together.”
“Adair killed him because he knows I love him. I told him he should not have returned,” Sabine mumbled, then moaned. The pains were right on top of one another, it seemed.
“Yes, but I have set him free. He is out there waiting for you, and once the child is born, I plan to free you as well so you can be together at last. You and the child and Beau can escape. You can be together at last.” It was all a lie, the very sound of it made me feel despicable, but I had to tell her something so she would not give up. The only truth was that I had helped Beau escape, or Elenna had. She and I had plotted to get him out of the palace, but he would never return here. He knew that Sabine and he could never be. He would not return here for her if he knew what was best.
She did not respond at first, and I thought she had fallen asleep. “Is that true?” she said at last. “Will he wait for us?”
“Yes.” I held back my tears. “He’s waiting for you.”
When the magiker came back, it was time at last for her to push.
[fan] diviners trilogy - complete series Page 82
