Sorrows of Adoration

by Kimberly Chapman

  Kol was deeply moved by the letter but was unable to convince his father to end the war. He wrote a secret letter in return to Raeneh, explaining that his father was too entrenched in the generations of hatred between to the two nations, but that he had no such hatred and also wished to see the war end. This led to a continuing, hidden correspondence that eventually found the two deeply in love, though they had never met face to face.

  When King Dirik was slain in a battle, Kol proclaimed that the war had gone on long enough. He mounted his horse, summoned his guards, and rode to the palace of King Daen, Raeneh’s father. There, he asked for the hand of Raeneh in marriage to unite their kingdoms into one. King Daen would not hear of it, thinking it was a ploy to assassinate his only remaining child. He had Raeneh locked away in one of the castle’s towers and told Kol to leave.

  But Kol did not leave. He stood at the base of the tower and called up to Raeneh, professing his love and his desire to unite their kingdoms in peace. She heard his call and answered that she would wed him, both for her own love and for the good of all.

  Still, King Daen would not hear of it, and he threatened to kill Kol. When Kol refused to leave Maellen soil, Daen drew his sword against him, and a battle ensued. Kol defeated Daen, knocking the older man’s sword from his hand. But Kol spared Daen and said he wished no more bloodshed, least of all the beloved father of his sweet Raeneh. Thus, Daen came to believe that Kol’s proposal of unity was sincere, and at the behest of Raeneh from the tower above, Daen agreed to the marriage. Kol raced up the tower steps to behold for the first time the woman he loved, not knowing if she was beautiful or hideous and not caring, for his love was independent of appearance. When he saw her, plain but pretty with her auburn hair and deep blue eyes, he fell even deeper in love and carried her down the steps and off into history.

  And so was born the united kingdom of Keshaerlan, and the capital established at the old border and site of the last battle.

  The great tale of Kol and Raeneh was celebrated in every royal marriage thereafter. In earlier times, the bride would remain in the tower until fetched by the groom after a mock battle with the girl’s father, but through the generations the ceremony had become more metaphorical in nature, beginning now with the bride hidden from view atop a stage or hill.

  Thus, there I stood, draped in cloth, thankful for the shade of a great tree, as guests were seated. I saw many recognizable faces, including Jarik, who sat in the front row near King Tarken and Kasha. Jarik’s expression was far from merry, and I wondered if he was worried for me, for perhaps he knew that Kasha had been in my room. I hoped that the King would tell him that I was in better spirits now, but I did not see them speak.

  In the background there had gathered a great crowd of the general public, come to see the ceremony. I could not see them clearly, but I was glad to know no one was excluded from what really was a public event. After all, Kurit would be their King, and I supposed they had a right to see him wed the woman who would one day be their Queen.

  The priests and priestesses managing the ceremony indicated it was to begin, and an eerie hush fell. I became nervous, hoping I would not forget what I was supposed to do or say, short though the actual ceremony was.

  Then I saw Kurit, standing at the back of those seated. He boldly strode down the centre aisle and stopped at the base of the low hill, where there were two posts in the ground with a wide ribbon tied between them. He looked magnificent in his polished armour and green cloak—the same green as my dress. I smiled behind my veil as he knelt with great flourish. Always the performer, my dear Kurit.

  “Lady Aenna of Alesha,” he began, “you have won my heart with your bravery. You have captured my soul with your wisdom. I come to you this day before all who gather here as witness to proclaim my love for you and pledge to you my devotion to love you eternally. For the good of my heart and soul, and the good of the nation of Keshaerlan, which I shall one day serve as King, I offer to you my hand in marriage. Will you accept me?”

  A low murmur of approval for his speech passed through the crowd.

  From behind my veil, heart racing in nervous delight, I said, “Prince Kurit of Keshaerlan, I did not know what love was until I knew it for you. You have brought great happiness and opportunity to my life. Before all who can hear me, I pledge to love you as a devoted wife and shall strive to serve as a good and noble Queen. I do accept you.” I breathed a sigh of relief that my tongue did not twist itself during my vow.

  Kurit rose and drew his sword. As a symbolic version of the fight between Kol and Daen, he cut the ribbon that hung between the posts. There were those who said the cutting of the ribbon also symbolized the cessation of the bride’s maidenhood, but I tried not to think of that, lest I be blushing ridiculously when he removed the veil.

  He sheathed his sword and took the few steps up the hill to where I stood. He stood before me and reached around behind my head to unclasp the clip that held the veil. It took him a moment, because he wasn’t paying full attention to it, as he was too busy diverting himself by giving me a roguish little wink and smile, knowing full well that I could see him through the cloth.

  When finally the veil was unclasped and dropped, he took my hands and led me to step over it and then stood to the side to allow the gathering to look upon my dress. I heard the soft rush of excitement as they approved of my appearance, and I could not help but smile at him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said softly as he took my arm formally to lead me to Abbott Jhin, who was to perform the religious portion of the wedding.

  I admit that I heard little of what the Abbott said. I was lost in Kurit’s gaze as we faced each other, my hands in his. In fact, I became so lost in his eyes that I almost missed it when the Abbott’s reading had ended. Kurit gave my hand a little squeeze and looked to Jhin as he was to proclaim us wed.

  “And so, under the eyes of the Gods,” continued the highest priest in Endren, “Prince Kurit of Keshaerlan and Lady Aenna of Alesha agree to these laws of sanctity and goodness, and in their marriage they shall continue the lineage of Kol and Raeneh in justice and honour. Now, for the first time as a married pair, I implore you, Prince Kurit and Princess Aenna, to embrace and kiss, that you might demonstrate your unwavering love to those gathered here.”

  Kurit turned back to me and smiled. I stepped towards him, and he slipped his arms around my waist. I clasped my hands behind his neck as he lowered his head to mine and kissed me.

  A great cheer erupted from those gathered as we kissed, and I expected it to prompt Kurit to stop, but the rascal did not. The kiss lasted a good long time, and he leaned me back so that I almost lay in his arms when finally it ended. Breathless, I looked at him in wonder and delight as he whispered, “Now our happy future begins.” He lifted me back upright and held me tightly as we were surrounded by the gathering.

  We stood in their midst, beaming smiles on our faces, his arm snugly around my shoulders, mine around his waist. Congratulations and good wishes were given by most of those I had known, with the obvious exceptions of Kasha, Sashken, and their small group of friends. They stood off to one side, dark and brooding, and I didn’t care. I felt the thrill of triumph and cared not for those who had lost.

  Jarik came to my side and smiled, though I could tell in an instant it was a forced one. He seemed distraught, so I beckoned him to lower his head so I could whisper to him, “Don’t worry, Kasha was cruel but I don’t care about her anymore. Kurit and I are married now, and there’s nothing she can do to reverse that.”

  He stood back to full height and smiled again, but still it was pained—more so, it seemed. I reached up and touched his cheek gently. “Honestly, Jarik,” I said over the tumultuous noise of the well-wishers, “I’m happy. I’m happier than I ever imagined I could be. Don’t fret for me.”

  That seemed to help, and his smile became somewhat more genuine. He bowed his head to me again, this time to softly kiss my cheek. “That is all that matters to me, Aenna. Your happ
iness is all that matters,” he whispered so quietly I almost could not hear it, though he said it right to my ear.

  “Shouldn’t you be off to practice your defence strategy?” said Kurit to Jarik, seeming loud following Jarik’s quiet words. “You’ll need it!” he teased, and I ducked out of the way for Jarik’s inevitable retaliation. But Jarik stood still, his eyes still on me as though he had not heard Kurit speak. I felt a strange flutter in my heart as he looked at me, the same odd, intense feeling I had experienced when our eyes had locked in that dance lesson that seemed so long ago.

  Then he broke the eye contact and looked behind me at Kurit. “I shall win the tournament, have no doubt,” he said in a flat, emotionless voice. “You just be sure to care well for your new bride and treat her with the honour and respect that she deserves.” Then he turned and strode quickly away.

  When I turned to Kurit, I saw the oddest look on his face. “What was that about?” I asked.

  Kurit broke from his apparent reverie and smiled benevolently at me. “Nothing. He’s just in a strange mood today. Probably the pressure to win. Everyone expects him to, you know.”

  I shook my head. “No, Kurit, he seems upset about something. I thought I knew what it was, but now I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t fret over that overgrown brute,” Kurit jested. “He’ll go break a few bones and bloody a few noses in the tournament, and then he’ll be fine.” Then Kurit kissed me, and I decided to take his advice and ignore Jarik’s broodishness.

  We walked to the area of the meadow where the tournament was to be held. Kurit escorted me to my seat in the stands that had been built for the occasion. Great wreaths of vines and flowers were wrapped around the pillars that held up the roof. Their scent was sweet and fresh in the summer air. I settled back into the soft chair in absolute happiness.

  Kurit excused himself for a moment to go speak with someone. I sat quietly alone for some time, watching the hopeful warriors prepare themselves and their equipment. Jarik and Kurit had been furious two weeks before when they had learned that several men who had been planning to compete had unexpectedly cancelled without reason. Kurit suspected his mother’s influence and stormed about for some time until I assured them both that less carnage hardly offended me, and it didn’t matter since we all knew who would win in the end. That had made Jarik blush with pride—a truly adorable thing to behold—and had eased Kurit’s anger sufficiently.

  My quiet thoughts were interrupted by a man who stood before me and introduced himself, though I recognized him instantly without introduction.

  “Good day to you, Princess Aenna. I am Lord Cael of Alesha.”

  It was the first time that anyone had used my new title besides the Abbott, and despite it I rose to curtsey, saying, “My Lord, I know you.”

  He took my hand to interrupt the curtsey and jovially said, “Your Highness, I am no longer your Lord! You are my Princess!” He bowed to me instead, and indicated that I should sit again. I did, and he took the seat beside me. Though it had been several years since his visit to the inn where I worked, he still looked the same. He had short reddish-brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard of the same colour. His eyes were friendly and bright, and the corners of them and his mouth were creased from a lifetime of smiles, one of which was upon his face at that moment.

  “Don’t blush so at the error, Your Highness. I can’t imagine what a challenge it must be to adjust to such a change.” He patted my arm kindly. “I am eminently proud to have an Aleshan wedded into the royal family! It’s about time we brought back the northern wisdom and beauty to these dark-haired folk,” he teased, and we both laughed.

  “Thank you, Lord Cael. Your support means a great deal to me,” I confessed.

  “Oh, my support you have indeed. I have heard great tales of your wisdom. Did you know that the King told the entire Council about that ugly matter of what happens to virtuous barmaids that you brought to the Prince’s attention?”

  I had actually forgotten about that entire discussion, having been so busy with other concerns. “No, I had not been told,” I said. “Please, what was decided?”

  “Well, there was a great deal of concern about giving too much power to the King’s Guard. That’s a very complicated issue, one which I’m sure you’ll grow more aware of in time. It has to do with the fact that some Lords don’t approve of the King having a hand in their affairs at all, and others that are all too glad to have the King pay for their bodyguards. But among those in the Council, it was agreed that such abhorrent behaviour by noblemen cannot continue. Of course, there were many voices of doubt that it even happened at all, but King Tarken spoke at great length of your honour and wisdom, and his respect carries a great deal of weight with the council. It certainly does with me. He is not one to make light of a serious issue, nor to overemphasize the trivial, and when he brought his fist down on the table to silence those who questioned your word, well, the lords listened.”

  Brought his fist down on the table? I thought. I was amazed that I had had such an effect, when I had not even spoken with the King about the matter. I wondered if Kurit had overplayed my words, or if King Tarken really took me so seriously.

  “In the end,” Lord Cael continued, “it was decided that your suggestion to have the Guards responsible first to their oath to uphold the law was a sound one, even in matters other than the abuse of peasant women. A law was passed to make the King’s Guards responsible to report any legal wrongdoing by anyone, regardless of other oaths or loyalties.

  “So you see, Your Highness, though we have not met, I already have a great respect for your wisdom. If you have impressed my King, you have impressed me. And as an Aleshan, I hold you in even higher esteem. You may count on my support in any matter, Highness. If ever you need an advocate, know that I or my ambassador will gladly join your side.”

  I was speechless. To have the guaranteed support of such a good man meant so much to me that I could not express my appreciation to him adequately. “Thank you,” I managed to say and then for some reason blurted out, “But we have met, though you probably don’t recall it.”

  “No, I don’t. Please, refresh my memory.”

  So like a fool I told him of how he had been kind and generous so long ago, when I was just a barmaid. But he did not find me foolish. He laughed pleasantly and said, “I wish I recalled it better, Your Highness, but I regret that I have stayed in so many inns in my travels that they are all a blurred vision in my memory. And now here you are. Truly, your story is a fascinating one.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s always a good thing,” I confessed.

  “Fear not, Princess Aenna—those who are obsessed with your roots will have their day when they realize their folly in judging you harshly.” He patted my arm again and said, “Here comes your Prince. I should vacate his chair before I end up as part of the duelling.” He laughed.

  “Is this vagabond disturbing you, Aenna?” Kurit asked as he approached. They seemed to know each other well.

  “Not at all. Lord Cael has been very kind and generous in his words of praise,” I replied, trying to sound dignified when what I really felt was girlish giddiness.

  “Oh, has he? I’ve been married less than a day, and already you’re trying to steal another one away from me, are you?” Kurit said, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips in pretence of threat.

  Lord Cael rolled his eyes. “Here it comes again,” he muttered and then laughed again.

  “Don’t you take that tone with me, you woman-stealing fiend,” Kurit teased, waving a fist in jest.

  The Aleshan Lord turned to me with a mock look of tired frustration. “Your Highness, Prince Kurit threatens me under the misguided belief that my wife, the beautiful Lady Tyella, might once have loved him.”

  I had not heard of this before, and I admit I felt vaguely threatened. After all, Kurit had told me repeatedly that he had loved no other. I looked at my husband with confusion.

  He caught my look and
ended the game. “Oh, Cael, we should stop. I don’t want to upset my poor bride. Aenna, Tyella and I were close friends as children. She moved to Staelorn from Endren when we were still young, and though I did not see her again until years later, when she married Cael, I teased him that he had stolen my love away. It has been a long-time jest between us. So when he was sitting here with you, I naturally had to come and tease that he was going to steal you away. Forgive me—I should have known that you didn’t know the background to the story.”

  Lord Cael nodded and said, “Forgive me as well, Your Highness. We are stupid boys playing immature games. I hope we have not upset you.”

  I smiled at them. “Is my possessiveness that obvious?”

  They seemed relieved that I did not become upset. Each of them took one of my hands and kissed it in a gentlemanly fashion. Then Kurit cast a sideways glance to Cael, who still held my hand, and stepped quickly towards him to bump him away. Cael stumbled, letting go of my hand abruptly, but Kurit snatched it back up, holding both my hands as he took his seat.

  Cael regained his balance and said, “You’re both possessive.” He laughed as he took the seat beside Kurit for the tournament. He leaned forward to catch my eye and said, “Princess Aenna, if you can ever escape this mad fool for any length of time, I would be delighted if you would visit us in Staelorn.”

  I thanked him for the invitation, and he sat back in his chair. Kurit leaned to me and said quietly, “Honestly, Aenna, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved. You do believe me, don’t you?”