Daughter of the Disgraced King

by Meredith Mansfield

  “I thought you’d like this,” Jathan said. “This is where it all started, you know.”

  Ailsa didn’t take her eyes from the view. “Where what started?”

  “Far Terra. The idea of it,” Jathan said. “The Ring Mountains are volcanoes. Mostly dormant volcanoes, but still . . . Generations ago, one of them erupted. All of this was just steaming lava until some mages decided to see what they could do. Heat and ice mages bled the heat off. Earth mages broke the lava down into soil. Then water and green mages went to work bringing it to life. It succeeded so well that your . . .” Jathan paused and counted on his fingers. “Your four-times-great-grandfather got the idea to try to transform the desert, too.”

  Ailsa blinked and focused on that impossibly blue lake. She knew the story, of course. She’d just never expected to see the place that was part of Far Terran legend. This valley—this valley—had been more desolate than any part of the desert ever could be. Not long before Far Terra was first founded. And now it was this rich and beautiful forest. With the right emphasis and enough magic, Far Terra could be like this. It was possible. The sort of possible she could bind herself to. A legacy worth a lifetime’s work.

  ~

  Jathan smiled as he watched the wonder bloom in Ailsa’s eyes. He’d guessed right in bringing her here. Then he saw her stance change. She stood taller—well, as tall as it was possible for her to stand—and pulled her shoulders back. Even her jaw set. After her interview with the emperor, it wasn’t hard to guess what she was thinking. She was rededicating herself to take her remarkable magic and go back to Far Terra.

  Jathan swallowed bile. He’d wanted to please Ailsa. He wanted to make her happy here and keep her in Terranion. Mostly, he really didn’t want her to go away. Especially not to go back to Far Terra, the one place he had no desire to go—ever. The place where his real father had died.

  He looked back out at the valley. It had been his mother who’d brought him here for the first time, ages ago. She’d told him about coming here with his father and how the place had affected him. Jathan suppressed a shudder. This was the very place where his real father had dedicated himself to working for Far Terra. What had ever possessed him to bring Ailsa here of all places?

  He sighed. He’d known ever since that meeting with his stepfather what Ailsa’s plans were. He should be taking her to the places that would make her never want to leave, not to the places that would cement her resolution. He thought about everything she’d said about Far Terra. He rolled it over in his mind.

  If Ailsa was right—and she knew more about affairs in Far Terra than anyone else he knew—then his father’s death wasn’t really the fault of the Far Terran barons, the way he’d always thought it was. True, the barons had made a stupid mistake—one he’d bet at least some of them regretted, now. And the mages, including his father, had reacted to that, as was their right. It was just some freakish accident of the weather that had killed his father.

  Jathan looked out over the valley again, seeing it the way his father must have. Maybe he shouldn’t have such a horror of Far Terra. Maybe the best way to honor his father’s memory was to continue the work his father had started. Now that was a new idea. He wasn’t at all sure he was ready for that.

  At least it would have the advantage of letting him be with Ailsa. He already knew he wanted that, especially after that soaring feeling of working together over that burned area. Oh, yes. He wanted to keep on doing that, all right, even if that was all he could have with her. She was, after all, a princess. And he wasn’t really a prince, wasn’t even really of noble blood. He shouldn’t even think about anything more. He shouldn’t . . . but he couldn’t seem to help it.

  He certainly hadn’t thought of much besides Ailsa in the last couple of weeks. Was this what falling in love felt like? Just his luck to fall in love with someone he could never have.

  ~

  Ailsa bit her lip as she scanned the meager book shelves of the lodge’s main room. It was clear that nobody spent much time reading while they were here. Most of what was here seemed to reflect what she surmised were the tastes of the emperor and empress, mainly technical volumes on various topics. She pulled out a book on forestry out of curiosity. There simply weren’t a lot of books to choose from and none of them would suit her purpose.

  Ailsa climbed the stairs back to her room and sat at the small desk, tapping her pen against her cheek. She needed to write to Sav, but she was stymied by the knowledge that King Ewart would read anything she wrote. Even with a much larger library, she wasn’t sure she could find what she needed to encode what she had to say.

  There was a soft knock on the door that connected to Mayra’s room and the princess opened the door. “Couldn’t find anything to read? If you’re bored, there are other games besides battle chess. Or there’s the music room, if you play. Or we could just talk.”

  Ailsa sat back with a sigh. “It’s not that I’m bored, Mayra. I’m stuck. I want to write to Sav. I promised to write to him every week anyway, but right now I really want to let him know what I’ve learned about my magic and what I want to do with it. If . . . if I can make him understand, then he’ll at least have a chance to think about it and decide what’s most important to him. When I left, he thought I’d either become a mage or come back to marry him. Grandmama thinks there may be a way to do both—but it won’t be easy. Sav will have to decide if he’s willing to fight for that possibility or not. I want to at least get him thinking about that option so we can talk about it when your father sends for him.” She huffed a short laugh. “I don’t want to make the same mistake he did by waiting ‘til the last minute.”

  Mayra sat down in the armchair by the fire. “Sounds like a good idea. What’s stopping you?”

  Ailsa bit the end of her pen. “Someone—almost certainly his father, King Ewart—has been reading our letters to each other. We’ve been using a code, referencing passages out of books. There aren’t enough books here. Frankly, I’m not sure the master library of the Academy would be enough to express all of that, though. I don’t know how to tell Sav what I need to say without also telling King Ewart.”

  Mayra sat up straight. “Does Father know your letters are being read?”

  “Yes. He’s not happy about it, but what can he do from here?”

  Mayra sat back, biting her lip. “Well, there’s one thing he can do, anyway. You go ahead and write your letter, just like no one but Prince Savyon was going to read it. Then we’ll get Father to put his seal on it. That’ll keep anyone else from reading it, I’ll bet.”

  Ailsa put her pen down. “Would the emperor be willing to do that?”

  Mayra smiled. “He will if I ask him.”

  Ailsa nodded. She knew that confidence. She might not often get around Mama, but she’d always been able to get most anything she wanted from Papa, if she approached him right. Anyway, even if she never sent the letter it would be good—clarifying—to write her thoughts down and organize them on paper, where she could look at them from the outside. “All right. Thanks.” She picked her pen back up and drew a deep breath. It still was not going to be an easy letter to write, but at least it would be possible if she could just write what she meant clearly.

  ~

  Jathan’s stepbrothers and Mayra took turns picking out the trails and the destinations over the next days. Artair tended to choose easy, well-used trails that led to some forestry project he wanted to take a look at or report back on to Father. Arrigo usually picked the most difficult and sometimes risky trails, regardless of their destination. Fortunately, Ailsa seemed to enjoy the challenge of those rides. Rishiart chose the sorts of places Jathan should have picked—lush forests that couldn’t help but delight any green mage. Ailsa clearly soaked it all in like she’d been parched all her life. In a sense, Jathan supposed, she had.

  When Jathan’s turn came around again, he hesitated over the choice. He should take her deep into the old, old part of the forest, where the great red-barked giants
predominated and the groves looked like temples with the light slanting through the trees. He should. But Ailsa had been sad the last couple of days. Sadder than a green mage should be surrounded by these lush forests. Maybe this would cheer her up, make her smile again. Or laugh. He really wanted to hear her laugh. So he decided to take her to another place. One he’d visited only once. It wasn’t the smartest move from one viewpoint, but maybe he’d find some perspective there, too.

  When he announced his choice, Mayra rebelled. “Oh, no. I’m not going all the way up there. That’s no fun at all. I’ll just stay here. Maybe I’ll go for a swim.”

  “What’s wrong with this trail?” Ailsa asked.

  “Nothing,” Jathan answered before Mayra could. “There’s just a bit of a climb at the end. But I think you’ll appreciate the view.”

  The last part of the trail switchbacked up toward the mountain peaks. Up here, the forest thinned out until there were only pines and even they grew sparser, shorter, and shrubbier. At this altitude, the horses—even Diamond—struggled to keep moving up the trail. They had to dismount and continue on foot.

  As they climbed higher, the pines were gnarled caricatures of trees, clinging close to boulders or sweeping along the ground rather than growing straight. Even so, Jathan could sense their age. These trees were as old as anything in the denser forest below.

  Nevertheless, the sparsity of vegetation began to make him edgy.

  He knew Ailsa was feeling the same when she asked plaintively, “Where are we going?”

  Jathan pointed up the trail. “Just up to that ridge. Trust me. The view will be worth it.”

  Even the warped pines were behind them now. The only vegetation were shrubs that rose barely a foot above the ground.

  Ailsa shivered despite the direct sunlight, unfiltered by any shade. “I’d be happier back in the forest. This feels . . .”

  Jathan knew exactly what she meant. It felt empty. And something about that emptiness made him feel hollow and lethargic. But they were so close, now. He took her hand. “I know. I feel it, too. It’s just a little farther, now. Then we’ll go back down.”

  Artair and Arrigo, who’d taken the lead when they dismounted, were already making the last climb to the top of the ridge. Rishiart was close enough behind that Jathan could hear his heavy breathing. Jathan tugged at Ailsa’s hand. She bit her lip and allowed him to lead her forward, up the final scramble to reach the top.

  Jathan held onto Ailsa’s hand until he felt she was sure of her footing on the loose rocks of the ridge top, Ailsa looked up and sucked in a deep breath. There, laid out before them was Far Terra. From here, she could make out the deep green heart of Far Terra, backed up to the forested hills in the distance, and the paler, newer, centers of growth where the desert was even now being tamed, mostly by sweat. Other, grayer green centers marked more far-flung water sources the Far Terrans had not yet attempted to cultivate.

  Jathan stared out at the desert for a long moment. “You know, the only other time I climbed up here, it was to see where my father—my real father—died.”

  Ailsa’s head swiveled toward him. “What?”

  Jathan didn’t turn away from the view. “My father was a green mage. He left Far Terra in protest when the barons forced your father to abdicate, but he died on the way home. Drowned, his companions said. That never made sense to me until what you said about flash floods.” He huffed something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I had all sorts of misconceptions about what must have happened to him when I was younger.”

  He felt Ailsa squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, Jathan.”

  He shrugged. “I never even met him, but I think I understand him a little better now.”

  He hadn’t properly appreciated it when he’d climbed this ridge before. He’d been preoccupied then with thoughts of his lost father. Far Terra was a true masterpiece of magecraft, but unfinished. There was so much still to do. His magic, even thinned as it was in this barren neighborhood, fairly itched to be at work. He could see why his father would risk so much to be part of that creation. In a strange way, Far Terra was his legacy, too. As much as it was Ailsa’s.

  “Now that’s a challenge worthy of an eighth-level green mage,” Jathan said. “Wouldn’t that be something? Maybe we could work together, like on that burned area.” The only thing better than working on a project like that would be to continue the soaring feeling of working magic along with Ailsa.

  Ailsa turned to smile at him. “Maybe we could.”

  ~

  When they got back to the lodge, still sticky from the sweat of the climb, the princes immediately headed for a swim. Mayra was already floating a little way out. Ailsa stood gazing at the lodge’s private lake. The water looked cool and refreshing, but this lake didn’t seem to have the extensive shallows of the lake by the inn. At least, there weren’t the stands of reeds or mats of friendly water lilies. Not nearly as safe. She hadn’t yet been in much deeper than her knees.

  Arrigo and Artair, apparently having just shucked out of their trousers and tunic, cannonballed into the water, throwing up huge splashes of water. Ailsa shook her head and turned for the quiet promenade, instead. After a walk in the cool shade of the trees, she’d go up and bathe. A little time to herself to think about the events of the last few days wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She stopped when Mayra called to her.

  “Aren’t you coming in, Ailsa?” Mayra paddled closer to the shore.

  Ailsa looked out toward the lake, where the laughter of the princes mingled until it was impossible to tell one from another. Except Jathan. She could pick his laughter out, rising above the others. “Not this time. I think I’ll just take a walk around the promenade and then get a bath. Probably get cleaner that way, anyway.”

  Mayra shrugged and turned back into the lake. “Suit yourself.”

  Ailsa walked on toward the back of the lodge and the promenade. She hadn’t had a chance to see it in daylight yet, but she knew that some of the huge trees with shaggy red bark stood around that loop. She’d sensed them when she was out there with Mayra. She saw the first one as she came around a curve in the boardwalk. Massive, older than any other living thing she’d ever been this close to, and serene. Ailsa reached out to touch the rough bark. She could use a little of that tranquility right now.

  For a little while, she’d felt new possibilities opening up for her. First Sav’s proposal, Grandmama’s rosy notions of having both Sav and her magic, new friends in an environment where she was accepted for herself. Anything had seemed possible. It only hurt more now that her options were narrowing down again. She couldn’t give up her magic or turn her back on Far Terra. She’d stay and become a full-fledged green mage and then go back to do what she could for her homeland. That almost certainly meant giving up Sav. And, in spite of Mayra’s ideas, it meant being alone, too. Oh, maybe she’d get to work with Jathan or another mage every now and then. But no other mage was going to go out to live in Far Terra. Not with King Ewart’s oppressive policies. She’d be an outcast again, with only occasional visits with her friends from the Institute.

  Ailsa sighed. She’d always known it would be that way. She’d accepted her true purpose before Sav made his impossible proposal. She shouldn’t have let herself think otherwise, even for a little while.

  ~

  Jathan treaded water and looked up the shore behind Mayra. “Isn’t Ailsa coming?”

  “No. I think she’s still a little afraid of the water.” Mayra looked over to where Arrigo came up from a deep dive, perfectly placed to pull both Artair and Rishiart under. All three came up spluttering. “Or some of the water life, anyway.”

  Jathan frowned. “After Father’s warning, none of them will dare to rough house with her. I’d see to that, if necessary.”

  Mayra cocked her head to the side. “You like Ailsa, don’t you?”

  Trust Mayra to strike too near the truth. Jathan shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Of course I like Ailsa. So do you.”

&nbs
p; Mayra smiled. “Maybe not in the same way, though.”

  Jathan huffed. The last thing he wanted was Mayra and the terrible three teasing him—and worse, Ailsa. “Mayra—”

  Mayra held up a hand to stop him. “I think you’ve noticed that Ailsa’s been a little sad since we got here. And you’ve been trying to cheer her up.”

  Jathan blinked at the apparent change of subject. “Well, sure, but—”

  Mayra nodded. “Now, I’m not going to tell you anything Ailsa’s said in confidence, but . . . you’re doing it wrong.”

  Jathan’s brows drew down. “Huh?”

  “Ailsa knows what she has to do—develop her magic and go back to Far Terra. Reminding her of that isn’t helping. Because of the screwy way Far Terra is run and the way she’s been treated there, she thinks that means she has to give up . . . other things that most girls want. And that makes her sad. Now, if you think you can show her that isn’t true, then maybe you can cheer her up. I think she was going to walk the promenade just now.” Mayra started to paddle out past Jathan.

  Jathan continued to tread water, looking back toward the forest beyond the lodge. It was obvious to him that Ailsa would use her magic for the good of Far Terra. Why would she think that meant she had to give anything else up? Well, yes, he knew her life had been difficult before, but . . . that didn’t have to mean things would be the same. In fact, he was sure they wouldn’t, in more ways than one. It was true that Ailsa had seemed . . . subdued. Still . . . Mayra could easily be reading things that weren’t there. Wouldn’t be the first time. “It’s no good, you know. She’s a real princess. Probably meant for some real prince, somewhere.”

  Mayra stopped and sent a splash of water right for Jathan’s face. “You are a real prince, you idiot. Oh, you’ll never be emperor, but then neither will Rishiart or Arrigo and they’re certainly real princes. Stop dwelling on something Arrigo said what, seven or eight years ago now. Anyway, I seem to remember Father punishing Arrigo for that—because he was lying. If you let that stop you, some other prince who doesn’t stop to wonder if he’s real or not will cut you out.” She sent another splash in his direction and then swam out into the deep water