“Oh, I’m sorry, Majesty, he’s just so very excitable this morning, waking up in a strange place, and—” Lyenta stopped running after Raelik when she caught sight of my face. “Oh dear,” she said, putting her hands to her face in shock.
“Mumma!” Raelik hollered and laughed. I turned to face him and was greatly dismayed to see his smile drop instantly from his face when he beheld mine. He pointed out his little index finger slowly and sadly said, “Ouch.”
Above and behind him was the dressing mirror. I caught sight of my reflection and understood their reaction. A grotesque purple swelling sat upon my cheek, and the darkness had spread beneath my eye. I watched myself raise a hand to my face. It was quite warm to the touch and ached. When I blinked, I could feel the swelling beneath my eye, and it was rather disconcerting.
I became so captivated by my image that I almost did not notice as poor little Raelik’s lower lip began to tremble. I returned my attention to him just as he began to cry.
“Oh, Raelik, it’s all right now. Come to Mumma,” I said, squatting down so he could run to my arms. I picked up him and held him tightly as he cried quietly—a pitiful, small sound unlike any cry I had heard from him before. “There now, my precious boy,” I cooed as I carried him to the couch and sat him upon my lap. “Mumma’s got an ouch. But it will go away, and I shall be fine.”
He stared at it sadly, fat tears rolling down his baby cheeks. How was I to make him understand this? How was I to explain to my innocent boy that his father had caused me this pain? I could not bear to even ponder telling him such a thing.
“Mumma fell and bumped her head, Raelik. That’s all,” I lied. I forced a smile and said sweetly, “I shall be perfectly fine in a few days, you’ll see. Now, give me a kiss like a good boy and let Lyenta take you down to breakfast. Then you and she can go out and play in the trees. Wouldn’t you like that?”
He knelt up in my lap and kissed my unbruised cheek, still looking very sad. His expression broke my heart anew. I wondered how much longer I’d be able to protect my baby boy from the harsh realties of life.
“Go now with Lyenta,” I said to him, brushing his tears away. He shook his head and clung to me. Lyenta tried to coax him away from me, but he only cried out in anguish and balled his fists in a firm grip on my nightdress. I wrapped my arms around him again and told Lyenta quietly to leave us alone for a short while.
I sat rocking my son in silence for some time, praying in my mind that this unpleasantness would not shape his future temperament. Unfortunately, that hope seemed less than realistic when Jarik entered the room and sat beside us on the couch. When Jarik put a kindly hand on my arm, Raelik shoved him away angrily.
“Raelik!” I exclaimed. “That’s not behaving like a nice boy.”
Jarik said in a calm, supportive voice, “He’s protecting his mother like a good man, aren’t you, Raelik?” The boy turned his head away, burying his face in my shoulder. Jarik whispered, “I should have made you hold something cold to your cheek last night.”
“And I should have thought to do so myself,” I muttered.
“Is it painful today?”
“A little, but not an unbearable ache. It just feels tender,” I said.
Jarik nodded. “I’ll warn you now, it’s going to look worse before it looks better.”
“I know,” I said. “A boy I knew in my childhood liked to provoke bigger boys into fights. His face always bore hideous colours.”
He nodded again, sighed, and said, “I shall fetch you a cold compress for it now. Or are you coming downstairs to eat something?”
I kissed Raelik’s head and said, “What do you say, Raelik? Are you going to let Mumma change her clothes so we can go have breakfast?” He looked up at me with sad eyes and said nothing. “Please, Raelik. I shall be fine. Why don’t you go with Jarik?”
“No,” he said defiantly.
“Why ever not? Jarik is your friend, isn’t he? Jarik is my friend.”
Raelik turned in my lap to glare at Jarik.
Thankfully, Jarik had more sense than I did and better understood my son’s young male mind. “Raelik, good man, how would you like to be your Mumma’s Champion today?” Raelik’s glare ceased, and he looked at Jarik instead with a curious interest. Jarik held out a hand to him and said, “Well, if you are going to be a Champion to a great lady, you must understand that you need to let the lady get dressed alone. Come, then, Raelik. You can stand guard outside her door. And later I shall teach you how to hold a sword. Would you like that?”
Raelik finally went to him, putting his small hand in Jarik’s enormous one. Jarik led him out of the room and had him stand facing my door at attention. When Jarik entered again for a moment to pull the door closed, I went to him and whispered, “I don’t want you giving him weapons!”
“Oh, Aenna, I’m not going to give him a sword! I’ll let him hold mine and perhaps have Mikel make him a small blunt wooden one with which to play.”
“He’s only three years old. Can’t the battle games wait?”
“When I was five I could throw a knife and hit a target with appreciable skill,” Jarik said. “He’s a growing boy, Aenna. He’s going to be a King. He should feel comfortable with a weapon in his hand. He may be quite young, but look at how he stands to guard you.” I looked past Jarik to see my small son standing with his hands still on his hips. Were his face not so very serious, he would have been laughably adorable. “Let the boy pretend to be a man today, Aenna. Let him think that he’s protecting you from whatever he imagines caused you that bruise.”
I nodded, pressing my lips tightly together to keep myself from weeping at the thought.
Jarik left and closed the door behind him.
Of course, I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I forced myself to eat enough at breakfast that Leiset and Jarik would not nag at me or fret further over me. Afterwards, Jarik took Raelik outside to play. I sat on the balcony attached to the master bedchamber to watch them. Jarik was very good with my son—letting him put his hands on the sword and try to lift its weight, but all the while the man kept the boy’s hands from approaching the sharp edges.
I found myself angry with Kurit that he was not the one sharing these masculine lessons with his own son. Jarik was so kind and attentive with Raelik, as he always had been. Kurit couldn’t be bothered to play with a ball long enough to please the child.
The longer I watched, the more upset I became. I soon retreated into the bedchamber and closed the curtains to shut out the tenderness that taunted me so. I sat in the darkened room and let my emotions flow from anger to depression and then back, cycling around and feeding on one another until finally that blessed numbness of despair settled over me once more. I just stared into the air before me, hearing my own breath and thinking how very odd it sounded.
I do not know how long I sat that way. A knock came at the door. I said nothing, so Jarik slowly opened it to peer inside, perhaps thinking I had been sleeping. When he saw me in the chair, he entered and sat in another chair nearby. For some time we sat in silence—one that I imagine would have been quite uncomfortable had I not been so numbed.
Finally, he cleared his throat softly and said, “Are you able yet to tell me what happened?”
And so I did. Coldly and without tears, I related to him the details of what had led to Kurit striking me. I was as forthright as I could have been and made sure to explain that Kurit did express great remorse immediately after his horrible act. I spoke without passion or inflection of any kind.
When I reached the end of the tale, he said nothing. He sat quietly again for a few moments and then rose and stood by the bed. He leaned on one of the bedposts, gripping it in his hand tightly, his other hand a clenched fist at his hip. He sighed and then clenched his jaw in anger. But still, he said nothing.
“I’m sorry for putting this on you,” I said flatly.
He laughed—a terrible, cold, and bitter laugh—and muttered angrily, “You didn’t drag me into thi
s, Aenna. But I would dearly like right now to drag that wretch down a rocky path for some time and then dunk his head into the Great Kal until his sense returns to him.”
“You must not retaliate against him, Jarik,” I said bluntly. I rose and stood beside him to ensure that he wouldn’t dismiss my words. “I am not excusing what he has done, but he is the King, and if the people were to learn he has become such a drunken mongrel, it could be disastrous for Keshaerlan. Besides, did you not just tell me that violence is wrong?”
He let go of the post and stood before me with his arms crossed over his chest. Ignoring the quip about violence, he said, “Aenna, if your loyal worshippers—peasant and Lord alike—find out about what he has done, we could very well find an armed revolt on our hands. The peasants of Endren alone would demand retribution for their beloved Queen.”
I nodded and sighed. My numbness waned, and the frustrated pain came back into my heart. I stepped up to Jarik and let him put his arms around me. It was such dear comfort to put my head against his warm chest and to feel his enormous hand cupping my head gently. I closed my eyes and tried to banish away my angry and sorrowful thoughts, wanting instead so much just to enjoy this good man’s kind touch.
Without warning, he squeezed me tightly to him, lifting me almost entirely off my feet. His body shuddered as though he were struggling to not let me see how awful he felt. A moment later he relaxed, letting me back down to the ground but still keeping his arms around me. I thought for a moment that I was trembling, but then I realized it was in fact Jarik—the big, strong, resilient warrior—who trembled in rage and sadness.
He stepped back slightly from me, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking at me very intently. He moved his hands, taking my head in his them softly and rubbing his thumbs over my cheeks. Then he closed his eyes and leaned forward, putting his lips tenderly to my forehead. He kissed me there several times and then wrapped his arms gently around me once more. I buried my face in his shoulder.
“I will do whatever I must to make things well again for you, my dearest Aenna,” he whispered roughly. “I am forsworn to be your Champion in all things, even if that means dealing with—”
A loud knock at the door cut him off. He stepped quickly away from me, as though it was improper of him to be comforting me.
“Come,” I said.
Leiset entered quickly and said, “I’m sorry, Aenna, I know you wanted to be alone but—” She noticed Jarik there and seemed somewhat startled. They exchanged an odd look that I could not interpret. Then her eyes returned to me, and she said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Mikel says there approaches quickly a man on horseback. He saw the lone rider crest the hill in the distance just moments ago.”
“It’s Kurit,” I said, quite sure of it. A surge of emotions threatened my mind, but I forced them all back with the thought, He’s a fool to travel without guards. That alone will cause undue attention.
“I suppose I shall have to start dealing with that part of being your Champion right away then,” Jarik said.
Feeling quite exhausted with the entire situation, I said, “I don’t want to see him. I can’t bear to hear him tell me yet again how very sorry he is. I don’t care how sober or drunk or sorry or angry he is. If I see him, I shall go mad, I swear it.”
“He shall not reach you,” Jarik declared. “I shall ensure it.” The big man put a gentle hand on my arm and led me to a chair to sit. Then he beckoned to Leiset and said, “I’ll handle my cousin. You stay here with Aenna and lock the door behind me.”
“What about Raelik?” I said quickly. “I don’t want him near Raelik either.”
“Raelik and Lyenta have gone down to the lake,” said Jarik. “It is unlikely that they would return so soon.”
Jarik left, but when Leiset went to lock the door I said, “No, don’t close it. Keep it open enough that I can hear them. If Jarik begins to throttle Kurit, I’ll have to go and get my hands into it. I won’t let this Kingdom fall apart, even if Kurit deserves the disgrace.”
Leiset nodded. “I shall stay by the door, then, and watch,” she whispered. “I can see the stairs well from here and will lock it quickly should Kurit manage to slip past Jarik.”
“He won’t. Nothing slips past Jarik,” I said with certainty.
“Well, he’s standing on the stairs right now and …” Leiset sheepishly closed the door.
“Don’t close it,” I repeated.
“I have to. Jarik’s glaring at me dreadfully.”
A short time later, I heard the noise of the main door downstairs being thrown roughly open.
“She’s here, isn’t she?” I heard Kurit’s voice echo through the house.
“Open the door, Leiset, and tell me what you see,” I said quietly. She nodded and slowly opened the door just enough that she could peer through the crack with one eye.
“Where is she?” Kurit said loudly. “Is she up there?”
“He’s trying to get around Jarik, but Jarik won’t move,” whispered Leiset quickly.
“She’s here and she’s safe,” I barely heard Jarik growl. “And she shall stay that way.”
“I want to talk to my wife,” Kurit shouted.
Leiset looked to me and shook her head. “Jarik’s blocking the stairs,” she whispered and then looked out again.
“Curse it, Jarik, I want to see Aenna.”
“I can’t let you do that,” my Champion declared.
“I must speak with her!”
“She’s not ready to speak with you.”
They were quiet for a moment, and Leiset whispered that Kurit had backed away from the stairs such that she could no longer see him. But I knew what he was likely doing. He would be standing there awkwardly, running his hands through his hair, feeling sorry for himself and wanting to be forgiven yet again. I felt my blood boil at the thought.
“Jarik,” I heard Kurit say, “I realize that you’re protecting her, and believe me, I appreciate that. But I’m cold sober right now. I haven’t had a drink since before I …”
There was a pause, and then I heard Jarik say, “Before you struck her?”
There was another long pause. “I want to apologize to her, Jarik. Please, just let me see her for a moment. Stay in the room with us if you like. I wouldn’t dare harm her. I couldn’t bear to hurt her again. I’d rather take my own life.”
“Kurit, she clearly said that she doesn’t want to see you. She knows you are here. If she wanted to hear your apology, she’d come down from her room to listen to you.”
“Fine,” Kurit said unhappily. “I do not wish to upset her further. By the Gods themselves, I can’t believe I’ve done all of this to her. When do you think she’ll come home?”
“I cannot say. But I do know that she intends to keep herself hidden here until her face no longer bears your mark. She is adamant that no one in Endren must know what you have done because she fears your rule will crumble as a result.”
“Indeed. I’ve broken the very law she fought to have established. I suppose by rights I ought to order myself to the dungeons for it.” Kurit was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Is it bad? The mark you of which you speak, is it awful?”
“Yes. Half of her face is swollen and purple. You must have struck her very hard,” Jarik said with a brutal tone.
Kurit said something very quiet that I could not hear, though it sounded perhaps as though he were weeping. Then I barely heard his distraught voice say, “I don’t know what to do now.”
“Go home,” Jarik said. My Champion’s voice lost its hard edge, and I suspected Kurit’s emotional state had affected the big warrior. “Kurit, go back and think. Think long and hard and look inside yourself to determine why in the name of the Temple you would do such a thing. Figure out why you have been such a drunken fool these past years and do something about it. This won’t happen again. I won’t let you do this to her anymore.”
“I know. Neither will I.”
“Good. So go home and look
inside yourself to determine why you’ve sunk so low.”
“I can’t imagine why I’ve been so stupid. And worse, I’ve known all along I was being stupid.” Kurit’s voice changed, becoming angry again, and he said, “I can’t believe what I’ve done, Jarik, but ever since she was abducted I just don’t know who I am or where I stand.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Kurit said, his voice falling back to sadness. “Everything has just been thrown into disarray, and nothing I did fixed anything. It just got worse.”
Leiset looked at me and whispered, “Jarik has gone down the stairs. I can barely see him now.”
“Is it perhaps that you resent her for being so popular amongst the people?” Jarik asked.
“No,” Kurit scoffed. “I may have said things of that ilk to her, but that’s not it. Not really. I was actually quite proud of her.”
“Then why didn’t you just say so?”
“I don’t know, Jarik. I was already too far gone by then. I love her. That never changed. It just became, I don’t know, something terrible instead of something wonderful.”
“How could loving that woman ever be terrible?” Jarik asked incredulously.
“I can’t explain it, Jarik. It’s everything. The abduction. The fact that she had to save herself while I wept like a child in my soft bed. The fact that she had the strength to go and do wonderful things and make people love her while I sat in the palace hearing my mother drone on about how Aenna was ruining me. Loving her just began to hurt all of the time.”
I felt a sinking sensation in my abdomen, and thought I might be sick. My head reeled. In that moment, all my anger at him became turned against myself. I was revolted that I had not seen this in him. I felt a wretched guilt that my presence had, in effect, destroyed his soul. Now he longed to tell me that he was sorry for what he had done, and still I could not bear to look at him. I felt as though I could not breathe and prayed that the Gods would indeed stop my breath in that instant, that I might no longer be a curse to him.
Sorrows of Adoration Page 42
