“Yes. The king shall stand trial for treason against the homeland and dereliction of his duty to the realm. If found guilty, he shall forfeit his reign.”
Piair whirled to confront his three visitors. The commander of the Fifth Regiment put his hand on his sword’s hilt, but Piair waved him off. “There is no need for that,” he said. Reaching to his forehead, he removed his crown and held it out to the silent men.
“This is the symbol of my royal authority, is it not?”
The Warlord nodded.
“I am unworthy to wear it.”
Piair hurled the crown to the floor and crushed it underfoot. The startled men recoiled at the violent desecration. After four or five hard stomps, the young king lifted his head and faced his accusers.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I hereby abdicate the throne of Chiveis.”
For the first time in many months, Ana awoke on a soft mattress under a warm duvet. She could have enjoyed luxuriating in the bed’s exquisite comfort, except her body was so sore she could hardly move. But she was content to lie still, staring at the ceiling, glad to be alive.
A rumbling snore reverberated from the hotel room’s other bed. Ana smiled at the sound, which was familiar and not bothersome. She had grown up hearing that noise every night. It always reminded her that her daddy was close by.
Ana’s thoughts turned to the events of the day before. After the battle ended, the Warlord instructed her to take lodging at one of the Citadel’s upscale hotels at the government’s expense. The general said her testimony might be needed, so she should clean up, purchase suitable clothing, and stay put until she was summoned. Though the political situation in Chiveis was uncertain, it was clear that egregious misjudgments, if not crimes, had been committed at the highest levels. The Royal Guard’s dramatic switch of allegiance amounted to a vote of no confidence in the king. The Warlord said it would take time to sort things out. In the meantime, Ana and Teo and everyone associated with them should wait.
Teo . . .
Ana’s heart ached as she recalled the look on his face when she rebuffed his marriage proposal at the Citadel’s moat. Shocked and hurt, he had rolled away from her and stood up. Ana quickly explained her discovery of his admittance report at the orphanage. Teo recoiled at the idea he was Helena’s son, conceived out of wedlock by her lover Hanson. Ana was in agony about it too. Yet they could both see its likelihood—and the implications for their future. “Just ask your mother for the truth,” Teo said. “I’ll wait for you to find out. We’ll go from there.”
But where will we go if you’re my half brother? Ana had wondered. She had been dreading the conversation with her mother ever since.
A rooster crowed outside, adding to the din of Stratetix’s snore. Gingerly, and with several grunts of her own, Ana sat up in bed and pushed back the duvet. Her body hurt, yet it was nothing compared to her pain at the prospect of losing Teo. She swung her bare feet to the floor. I will find out today, one way or the other, she vowed. Yet even as she made the decision, her resolve melted away and anxiety took its place. Please, Deu, she begged, don’t let it be true! Please don’t ask me to walk one more road of sacrifice!
“Good morning, honey. How did you sleep?”
Her mother’s cheerful greeting startled Ana. She glanced over to her parents’ bed to find Helena leaning on one elbow in her nightshift, her ash-blonde hair rumpled from sleep. Ana knew she would grow to look even more like her mother over the years, and that notion was perfectly agreeable to her. Helena was a lovely middle-aged woman. And no doubt she was a beautiful teenager too, whispered a shadowy voice of fear. Ana pushed the thought away as she stood up. She rolled out a kink in her neck and arched her back, then said, “I guess I slept pretty well for somebody who fell off a galloping horse.” She went to the stove to stir up the coals and get the kettle going again. “This white willow tea really helped.”
“Keep taking it,” Helena advised. “And make sure you put more salve on that lump on your head.”
Ana nodded but said nothing further. A little while later a hot breakfast was brought up from the kitchen, and Stratetix awoke to a hearty meal. He gathered his family at the table and started to give thanks to Deu but choked up halfway through the prayer. Covering Ana’s hand with his, he finished the blessing, then smiled at her as he dug into his eggs. She smiled back, delighted to be reunited with her family. Yet the burden of her impending conversation weighed on her mind. She picked at her food but could hardly eat.
After breakfast Stratetix announced he would go to Teo’s room for a mug of cider. The men had been telling some rousing yarns, and Stratetix enjoyed meeting the exotic foreigners Marco, Brother Thomas, and Bard. The women, too, had been regaled with amazing stories as Ana and Vanita recounted their adventures. Even timid Lina had a tale to contribute: she had fled into the Beyond with Shaphan, given birth in the wilderness, nearly died at the hands of the Rovers, met an Ulmbartian military expedition, and guided the soldiers back to Chiveis. The intrepid Count Federco hadn’t realized how close he was to the homeland of his friend Teofil. When he learned it from Shaphan, nothing could prevent him from pressing on. The establishment of a route between Chiveis and Ulmbartia—even one that traversed a vast wilderness—was an important discovery for both kingdoms.
Stratetix exited the room, leaving his wife and daughter alone. Ana’s stomach grew queasy, and her heart began to pound. She knew the moment of reckoning had arrived. The answer to a simple yes or no question was going to determine her future.
“Are you alright, my love?” Helena asked. “You didn’t eat your breakfast, and your face is as pale as a bedsheet.”
Just do it. Get it over with. Ana took a deep breath. “What happened when you were seventeen?” she blurted out.
“Um . . . I’m not sure what you mean.”
“We heard about the Battle of Toon at the hearing. But you wouldn’t tell the whole story.”
“Oh, Ana. Do we need to dredge up that again?”
“You’re hiding something!” Ana accused.
Helena’s expression grew wary. “What makes you say that?”
“I snooped in the records at the orphanage. I found a report that said a seventeen-year-old girl named Helena dropped off a baby.”
“That . . . doesn’t prove anything.”
“Mother! It was the same year you were seventeen! A few months after the battle, a baby shows up at an orphanage!”
Ana clenched her skirt in her fists. The terrible truth was poised to come out, and she couldn’t hold it back anymore. If Teo was her half brother, she needed to know—even though it would mean they could never be together as husband and wife. Taking a step forward, she seized her mother’s arm. “Tell me the truth! The girl who came to the orphanage was you, wasn’t it? You bore that child! You!”
Helena stared at the floor, wrestling with her emotions. At last she met Ana’s eyes and nodded.
Ana burst into tears as her nightmare became a reality. She collapsed against her mother’s shoulder, sobbing at the loss of the future she had been dreaming of, on some level, since the day she met Teo. Yet even as she wept, prayers of resignation swirled through her mind. I’ll let him go, Deu! I’ll step into the future you have for me! I’ll walk whatever road you ask! But please help me! I’m in anguish!
Helena held Ana close, soothing her with gentle words. Finally she separated from her daughter and brushed a crumpled lock from her forehead. “Honey, as far as I’m concerned this is all in the past. When I handed that baby to the warders I put him out of my mind forever. You should too. Let’s never speak about this again, okay?”
“Mother, you don’t understand!”
“You’re right, I don’t. Why are you so upset about this?”
“Because the record at the orphanage was Teofil’s! That baby was him!”
Now it was Helena’s turn to be staggered. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes grew wide. “No!” she said in a trembling whisper. “It can’t be! Teofil? Th
en that means . . . ”
Abruptly Helena turned and rushed to the door. She flung it open as Ana followed her into the hallway. They burst into Teo’s room as the men were enjoying a hearty laugh. At the sudden intrusion their faces turned toward the two agitated women.
“Is something the matter?” Teo asked.
Helena knelt beside his chair. “Take off your boot.”
“My boot?”
“Yes. The left one.”
Bewildered, Teo complied. Helena seized his foot and examined it. Teo glanced up at Ana with a perplexed expression, but she could only shrug in response. She had no answers to give him.
Helena stood up, dumbstruck.
“I have to go somewhere,” she muttered.
Stratetix came to her side and took her by the arm. “Helena, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.” She began to edge toward the door.
“Whatever it is, I’ll go with you.”
The husband and wife hurried out, leaving everyone in the hotel room agape. Ana ran to the doorway behind her parents. “Wait!” she called. “Where are you going?”
“To see the Queen Mother,” Helena replied as she disappeared around a corner.
A steward led Teo and Ana through a maze of corridors at the royal palace of Chiveis. Though Teo had visited quite a few impressive residences in the Beyond, he had never actually been inside the palace at the Citadel. He thought it stacked up well against the others he had seen, being suitably august yet not overbearing. Heavy draperies lined the bay windows, and potted plants stood on columns at intervals. The artwork on the walls portrayed heroic scenes from Chiveisian history, many of them depicting the life of Jonluc Beaumont and his consort, Greta the Great. The woman’s long dark hair and sensual eyes reminded Teo of her descendant and namesake. He frowned and looked away.
A palace messenger had arrived at the hotel room several hours after Ana’s parents left, bearing an invitation to a private audience with the Queen Mother. Teo had hurriedly changed into a new tunic while Ana donned the light-blue gown she had purchased at the Warlord’s request. Though she looked nice in the form-fitting dress, Teo forced himself not to pay attention. Ana had reported to him what she learned from her mother, and now Teo was grieving the awful truth that the only woman he could ever love would never become his wife. Numbed, he followed the steward through the palace halls like a criminal being led to his formal sentencing.
At last they arrived at a courtyard with a fountain at its center. Red roses climbed the walls, and an ornamental cherry tree provided shade for a seating area. Two stone benches faced a wicker chair with a cushioned seat. Stratetix and Helena occupied one of the benches.
Teo sat down next to Ana after briefly greeting her parents. Distracted and upset, he waited in silence until the steward returned. The man in the long tailcoat gestured to the door with a flourish. “Her Majesty, the Queen Mother,” he announced. Everyone rose as Katerina entered the courtyard.
After the appropriate introductions were made, the four visitors took their seats opposite their hostess. She was an attractive woman with elegant gray hair gathered into a spiral bun. Though her gracious manner was intended to put her guests at ease, Teo could only dread the momentous news that had caused the noble lady to call this meeting.
Katerina turned to Ana’s mother and addressed her with aristocratic courtliness. “It has been a long time since we sat in this courtyard discussing divine things, Helena d’Armand,” she said. “You were only a girl, and I myself was still in my twenties.”
“I remember those days fondly,” Helena replied with equal grace. “The three of us had many stimulating conversations.”
“Ah, yes . . . the three of us.” Katerina’s eyes took on a faraway glaze as she stared into the distance for a moment before turning back to her guests. “That brings me to the reason I have summoned you here. I have an interesting story to tell.”
“Don’t hold anything back, Your Highness,” Teo said firmly. “Be forthright. Tell us everything so we can deal with the facts as they are.”
“Indeed I shall, Captain Teofil. And you may hear some very surprising things.” A strange inflection was in Katerina’s voice as she spoke.
The Queen Mother leaned back in her wicker chair and began to recall her youth. She was born into a noble Chiveisian family whose lineage included kings. Her overbearing father, eager to make the perfect match for his daughter, refused to give her hand in marriage until she reached the age of twenty-seven. That was when Piair, who was soon to inherit the royal throne, began to romance her. Katerina was flattered by his attention, and of course her father was overjoyed—but another man had already won her heart.
She turned to Helena. “Do you remember how handsome he was? Handsome and intelligent too.”
Helena nodded. “I remember. He retained those qualities into his old age.”
“Who was it?” Ana asked.
Katerina brightened as she supplied the answer. “You knew him as Professor Maurice.”
Teo sat up straight in his seat. Master Maurice! His wise mentor at the University had never had a family. In fact, he didn’t like to speak of the subject. Now Teo knew why. Intrigued by this disclosure, Teo asked Katerina to continue her tale.
“I loved Maurice,” she went on, “so we decided to elope. I realize now how foolish that was, but at the time we were young and naive. We disguised ourselves and found a village judge who would join us. The night we spent together in a country inn was one of the happiest of my life.” The Queen Mother let out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, it was only one night.”
Katerina described how her father arrived the next day, furious at her impetuous deed. He summoned the terrified judge and demanded an immediate annulment. By the time the sun went down, Katerina was no longer the wife of a dashing university professor but of Chiveis’s future king. A few months later Piair was crowned as the regent. That was when things grew complicated: the newlywed queen discovered she was pregnant.
“Piair was insanely jealous,” Katerina said. “He knew about my brief marriage, and it gnawed at him. He was tormented by the thought the child would be Maurice’s. I feared for the baby’s life. Finally my term was completed, and I delivered a beautiful little girl. She was tiny and delicate. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. Even as a baby her hair was bright red.”
“The Flame of Chiveis,” Teo said. “Princess Habiloho.”
Katerina nodded and closed her eyes. Her visitors remained quiet until she found her composure. “I loved her very much,” she said at last.
“All of Chiveis did, my lady.” Helena touched the grieving mother’s hand. Katerina glanced up to meet her gaze, smiling at the kind remark.
“King Piair was redheaded too,” Stratetix observed. “Habiloho was clearly his daughter.”
“Yes, she was, and I was so relieved the child was his. But then something strange happened. As I lay in the delivery room, my pains came upon me again. At first I thought it was the birth sac, but when I looked, it was a little boy. He was dark-haired and swarthy. I could see Maurice’s features in his face. Even his little ears were attached to his jaw like his father’s. Then I understood: two men had brought forth life in me, and Piair would never let this boy live. He would be a rival to the throne. In desperation I summoned Maurice. ‘Take the child!’ I cried. ‘The king will kill him!’ But Maurice knew he couldn’t raise the baby. Everyone would know whose it was. So that very night we made a sacred vow. We decided to hide the boy to save his life, and never speak of him again.”
As Katerina paused her tale, Teo sat back on the stone bench, grappling with what he had just heard. His mind spun as the revelation’s significance began to sink in. He was about to speak when Ana broke in.
“You and Maurice both knew my mother!” she exclaimed to Katerina. “You asked her to take the baby to the orphanage!”
“That’s right,” Helena confirmed. “But Maurice did som
ething important that night. Before he handed the boy over to me, he identified him with a secret mark: a tattoo of three dots on the sole of his foot.”
Absolute silence hung in the courtyard. Teo could feel his heart pounding. “I . . . I have a birthmark like that on my foot,” he said, “but it’s not . . . ” He looked at Ana. She spun toward him on the bench, clutching his sleeve.
“I noticed it! Remember? By the lake on the pass in Ulmbartia. You said it was a birthmark, but I thought it was a tattoo.”
“It is a tattoo,” the Queen Mother said. “I saw it made.”
“So did I.” Helena turned toward Teo. “But I never knew it was you, Teofil. Not until Ana told me earlier today.”
Teo gripped his forehead in his hands. “Maurice was my father! It makes sense—he always called me his son. He must have known who I was! Yet he could never tell me.”
“Maurice loved you very much, Teofil. And think of what else this means.” The Queen Mother stood up and approached Teo as he sat on the bench. She reached out and touched his earlobe. “Just like your father’s,” she observed, “and mine. Look! My hair was once dark like yours. Our eyes are gray. We have the same chin.” Katerina gave Teo an affectionate smile as she gazed down at him. “Do you see? You are my long-lost son.”
Teo scrambled to his feet. “I, uh . . . I don’t know what to say, Your Majesty.”
Katerina took Teo’s hand, caressing it with her fingers. “I hope in time you will learn to call me by a different name.”
Before Teo could respond, Ana turned to Helena. “Mother! Why did you tell me the boy was yours when he was actually born to the queen?”
“I didn’t say that, love.”
“You did! You said you bore the child yourself.”
Helena shook her head. “No, honey. I bore the child in my arms to the orphanage. That’s what you kept asking about—the identity of the girl who brought the baby. It never crossed my mind you’d think the boy was mine! How could he have been?”
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