by Effie Calvin
“Oh,” said Mireille, the disappointment in her tone evident. “Shall I find Lady Lexandrie, then?”
“Oh, never mind her,” said Esofi dismissively. “The crown princess will accompany us as well, I think…?” Esofi glanced at Adale.
“Yes!” said Adale quickly. “Yes, of course, I…yes.”
Mireille’s look of dismay had been replaced by a wide grin.
“Good,” said Esofi, setting her kitten down on the floor before rising to her feet. “Give me fifteen minutes to prepare, and I shall meet you at the stables. Mireille, tell the hostlers to ready a carriage.”
“Never mind that, I’ll do it myself,” said Adale.
“You?” asked Esofi. “But that would not be proper.”
“No, really, it’s fine,” said Adale, getting up as well. “You need your lady, and I’ve nothing to do in the meantime.”
Adale left the room with a warm feeling in her chest and a spring in her step. She wondered if Daphene or Lethea were sober enough to accompany her on the trip, but then she wondered if she wanted them with her, propriety be damned. Esofi’s lady would be there, and that was technically enough, but…
If only Theodoar was still here, she knew he could behave for long stretches of time if she bribed him enough.
Adale burst into her rooms, hands shaking from a strange mixture of anxiety and joy. “Are either of you awake?” she called, banging her fist on the door that led to the accompanying rooms. “Daphene! Lethea!”
It was Daphene that fumbled her way to the door, eyes still closed and hair in disarray. She might have been wearing last night’s dress.
“Castle on fire?” she mumbled.
“No, I—”
“Don’t care.” And she went to close the door in Adale’s face. Adale jammed her boot in the way before it could close.
“I need an attendant,” said Adale. “How quickly can you be ready? We are going to the Temple of Talcia.”
“In the middle of the night?” murmured Daphene, rubbing her sleeve against her eyes. “Why?”
“It’s almost noon,” said Adale sharply. “I need you to come and distract Esofi’s waiting lady for me.”
“Esofi?” Daphene seemed to wake a little. “Is that what this is about?”
“Yes,” said Adale. “I need you to meet me down at the stables in fifteen minutes.”
“Fift—!” But Adale was gone before Daphene could even begin her complaint.
The stables were not too crowded this time of day, though the hostler put on quite a show of being very busy the moment Adale walked through the doors. Adale told them of Esofi’s plans and then left them to prepare the carriage. In the meantime, she visited Warcry, who was in his stall.
“I’ve nothing for you today,” said Adale as he nipped at her collar, clearly hoping for apples or boiled sweets. Adale’s gaze went to the still-empty stall beside him. There was a slightly discolored spot on the door where the nameplate had been removed.
“I’m sorry,” Adale said quietly, rubbing her palm against Warcry’s nose. “I’m sorry.” She pressed her face into his neck and inhaled his familiar horse scent, warm hair and dry straw. At least he didn’t blame her. He might, if he were capable. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t.
Esofi and Mireille arrived shortly, followed by Daphene ten minutes later. They got in the carriage and, accompanied by more guards than Adale thought was remotely necessary, headed out to the Temple of Talcia.
“Where are you going to get your students from?” asked Adale, trying to strike up another conversation. “Most of our citizens with Talcia’s magic just ignore it their whole lives.”
“I know,” said Esofi. “But I’m hoping an impressive new university will encourage them to start thinking about appreciating their gifts. Besides, after they complete their education, they will be all but assured a prestigious job defending their country.”
“If they are courageous enough,” pointed out Adale. “Some might be less eager to fight a dragon.”
“Perhaps,” said Esofi. “But for the sake of protecting their homes…”
“You must think I’m useless.” Adale laughed. “I’ve never even seen a live dragon, except from a very great distance, and it might have just been a very large hawk.”
“I would not want you to seek one out if you’ve no means of defending yourself!” cried Esofi. “Besides…”
“Besides what?” asked Adale, for Esofi suddenly looked very worried.
“Besides, I think you may see one soon enough,” Esofi murmured.
“What do you mean?” asked Adale.
“They are moving inward,” said Esofi. “Even your generals have spotted the patterns in their attacks. I believe their true target is Birsgen.”
“But we’ve been beating them!” protested Adale. “Most of the time, at least. And besides, we have your battlemages now. And you.”
Esofi’s severe expression lightened for just a moment. “Perhaps you are right. Even if an attack does come, maybe we will be able to fight them off with minimal losses. Still, it is never an easy victory when one fights a dragon.”
“Not even for you?” asked Adale.
“No,” said Esofi. “Not even for me. Every dragon has a unique personality and fighting style. It is much like fighting a Man, I suppose. And they are clever, even if they’ve lost most of their gifts. I consider myself very fortunate that I’ve never been forced to face one alone.”
“I think you could do it,” said Adale. “If you had to.”
Esofi gave a small laugh. “I pray it never comes to that.”
The carriage came to a halt, and they disembarked at the steps of the Temple of Talcia. It was nowhere near as large and impressive as the Great Temple of Iolar, though still, Adale thought, perfectly acceptable.
Esofi, though, was frowning deeply as she walked up the black marble steps that led to the temple itself. It was similar in layout to the Temple of Iolar, with a walled courtyard in front of the temple proper. This courtyard, however, was not quite as well-kept, and it seemed that many of the flowers had become overgrown.
The courtyard wasn’t busy at all. Aside from the temple birds, a staple of any of Talcia’s temples, the only signs of life there were a pair of acolytes, who were working to refill the feeders with seeds. At the sight of the princess’s approach, they began whispering to each other.
“I wish to speak to the archpriestess,” announced Esofi. “I have important news for her.”
The archpriestess was an old woman with a soft and wrinkled face and long, silver hair. She leaned heavily on a polished black walking stick for support as she emerged from the temple. An ordinary-ranked priestess was just behind her, looking concerned. Both women were dressed in the traditional midnight-blue colors of the goddess.
Esofi hurried forward, pausing only to curtsy briefly, before beginning to speak animatedly to the holy women. Adale glanced over at Daphene. Despite being dressed and upright, she still seemed to be asleep. Mireille was bright and awake, but her eyes had a sort of glazed look to them as well.
She’d forgotten how uncomfortable she always felt in temples. Even before Albion’s death, she’d never quite felt as though she belonged in them. Now, it felt like the entire temple had been constructed specifically to mock her.
Glancing around, Adale felt that familiar old resentment rising up in her chest. Foolish. It was all foolish. If the gods were still watching, if they hadn’t wandered off to do whatever the gods did before they’d created mankind, they were probably laughing at the antics of their children.
But… Adale hesitated. It had not been so when she’d spoken to Esofi about the Temple of Adranus. She had meant what she said, that she believed the gods wanted mankind to think and understand. Or at least, she’d meant it at the time. When she was next to Esofi, she could believe that maybe the gods were something other than malicious and mocking.
But when she was standing in a temple, with its cold stone walls and blatantly
materialistic displays, it was hard to believe that she had ever felt anything other than disdain.
The archpriestess was now indicating something off in another direction, probably telling Esofi about the size of the temple’s lands. Adale knew she should be listening, but it was hard enough to keep her breathing from coming in jagged, heavy spurts without having to think about Esofi’s hypothetical university.
The University of Esofi. Adale gave a short, awkward sound that was less of a laugh and more of a sharp exhale. Fortunately, Esofi and the priestesses did not seem to notice.
Adale had the sudden need to move, to run. She began to walk the length of the courtyard, leaving the two waiting ladies to stare after her in confusion. Carved into the courtyard’s inner walls were scenes of forests under moonlight, complete with wolves and deer and rabbits. There was something odd in the marble clouds, too. Adale paused to give it a hard stare and realized that it was a dragon.
Adale found it strange that such a violent and destructive creature would be depicted in any temple. Perhaps Esofi would have an explanation, if Adale asked.
The priestesses were leading Esofi in the direction of the inner temple, where services would be held, and Adale hurried after them. The archpriestess was saying something about the size of their congregations, and Esofi was nodding with rapt interest.
Inside the temple was not unlike any other temple, dimly lit and silent and a little bit musty. Adale had been inside this temple many times before for Talcia’s holy days, and it looked more or less unchanged. Perhaps the priestesses had rearranged some statues or furniture out of boredom, or perhaps Adale’s memory was simply failing her.
“Our temple seats approximately one thousand,” the archpriestess was saying. “Though we only fill that many spots on the holy days, and then of course, we are terribly overcrowded. Do you attend the lunar services?”
“Always,” said Esofi lightly. Lunar services were not quite holy days, but they weren’t quite ordinary either. Unlike Iolar’s sunrise and sunset services, which were held once a week, the lunar service took place only once a month on the night of the full moon. Adale had not attended one since childhood.
“Then perhaps our numbers will increase,” said the archpriestess. Adale had a feeling she was right. Once people found out that the princess was a regular visitor to the temple, they would flood in simply to be seen in the same location.
“How many of Talcia’s temples are there in Birsgen?” asked Esofi.
“Four, including this one,” the archpriestess said.
“A small number, for such a large city,” murmured Esofi. “And you take in students for the study of magic?”
“When they come to us.” The archpriestess gave a shrug. “We’ve had none this year, and most of the ones we’ve had in the past turn out to have Adranus’s gifts instead. Even the girls. It is a pity, but we’ve come to accept it.”
Esofi went quiet, apparently deep in thought.
“It will have to do for now,” she said at last. “I am confident that things will change soon enough, though. If the building of the new university gets her attention…”
“It will still be a decade before any new mages are old enough to come to us for training.” The archpriestess’s eyes were hard, unimpressed. “Maybe longer.”
“Better a decade than never,” Esofi replied calmly. “And, once news of the university spreads, perhaps we will find some of our magically inclined citizens reconsidering their neglect of the gift.”
The archpriestess said nothing, and Adale thought she understood how the old woman felt. After what had to be decades of silence and inattention, mustering up even the smallest spark of hope probably felt like a waste of effort, doomed to end in nothing more than disappointment.
“Some of the mages I’ve brought with me from Rhodia are trained as teachers,” Esofi continued. “They are prepared to serve under your supervision and educate our new students. I have already approved their curriculum, but perhaps you would like to review it as well.”
The archpriestess gave a small nod but said nothing more. Esofi made a quiet humming noise to herself and began to move quietly through the temple, exploring. Adale noticed that even though the archpriestess seemed unmoved, the other priestesses were whispering eagerly to each other.
Fortunately, the visit did not drag on for as long as Adale had feared it might. Soon enough, they were back in the courtyard and descending the steps to the street. Esofi was quieter than Adale would have expected—she’d thought Esofi would be chattering animatedly about all her plans and hopes for the future, but this was not the case.
“In Rhodia,” she said at last, “the ceiling of the Temple of Talcia is made of glass. They uncover it for the lunar services, and it’s indescribably lovely. I think I would like to do something similar here.”
“Oh,” said Adale, but she supposed it was still better than burning it to the ground.
When they arrived back at the castle, it was past lunchtime, but Adale told Esofi not to worry about that and asked her to meet her in the courtyard at the same place they’d taken tea with Queen Saski. Esofi agreed, and Adale set off to the kitchens to see what leftovers she could find for them.
When Adale went out to the gardens, she saw that Esofi and Mireille were sitting at the table, as planned. But, to her horror, Svana and Brandt were there as well, sitting in chairs on either side of the princess. Svana was holding flowers, and Brandt had a small silk box.
Adale cleared her throat and set the “borrowed” dishes down on the table. Esofi smiled brightly at her.
“Oh, there you are,” she said. “I’ve finally met your cousins!”
“I see,” said Adale unhappily. “Brandt, what do you have there?”
“Just a simple gift to welcome Princess Esofi to our nation,” he said, smiling wide enough to show teeth. “We were so disappointed when we learned she had already gone out for the day.”
“I imagine you were,” said Adale. “Well, as we missed the noontime meal, I—”
“Oh, do not banish us so quickly, cousin.” Svana was now threading flowers from the bouquet into Esofi’s hair. To Adale’s horror, Esofi did not appear to be irritated by it, but was smiling as brightly as ever. “We’ve not been to court in so long. Tell us how you’ve been occupying yourself.”
Adale grabbed a tiny sandwich off the dish and gestured to some servants, signaling them to bring drinks.
“There is little to tell,” she began. “I—”
“As we suspected,” sighed Brandt.
“Princess Esofi,” said Svana, apparently forgetting that she’d only a moment ago asked Adale a question. “I have heard that you play the violin.”
Adale was about to object—she had never heard such a thing, and she was the one who actually lived in the castle!—but Esofi nodded vigorously around her mouthful of food.
“I should like to hear you play someday, then,” said Svana. “And perhaps I can sing for you in return.”
Adale’s blood flashed hot at the suggestion. For all her cousin’s faults, she could not criticize Svana’s unspeakably and infuriatingly beautiful voice. Valenleht was a port city, and Svana had been trained by the Mer. If there was any woman on the continent with the power to make others fall in love with her with her voice alone, Svana was that woman.
But she kissed me. Twice.
“I would like that, I think.” Esofi was smiling serenely. “I only wonder where my violin is. The servants put all my belongings in such odd places after I arrived. My ladies are still finding my stockings.”
“Oh, these servants.” Brandt rolled his eyes. “Useless, the lot of them. Now, at our estate, we have a fine staff that has served our family loyally for generations. If you saw the difference, you would flee Birsgen in horror.”
“Here, you!” cried Svana to the nearest servant in a high, sharp voice, as though she was commanding a dog. “Bring my mandolin.” She smiled at Esofi. “It’s such a lovely day. I’ll pl
ay something for you, and then you can do the same.”
“Oh.” Esofi was beginning to look a bit overwhelmed. “Adale, do you play?”
“No,” admitted Adale. “I had lessons on the pianoforte when I was young, but nothing ever came of it.”
“Crown Princess Adale is not so accomplished as one would expect for a woman of her status,” said Svana gleefully. “You should see her try to dance.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Esofi.
“Oh no, it is,” Brandt assured her.
“Well, I think it is unfair to expect anyone to be accomplished in all things,” Esofi murmured. “After all, we all have some area in which we are lacking.”
“Even you, Princess?” Svana asked. “I refuse to believe it.”
Esofi laughed, a tinge of pinkness showing on her cheeks.
“On the subject of dancing,” said Brandt, “Svana and I have been away from court for so long, we’ve missed the grand balls of Birsgen. We wish to host one in a few days’ time and would be honored if you would attend, Princess Esofi.”
“Oh!” said Esofi. “That does sound lovely. I’ve not been to any Ieflarian parties yet.”
“Then I expect you will be impressed,” said Svana.
“A ball, during mourning?” interjected Adale. “Don’t you think that’s disrespectful?”
“I don’t see how it’s any different than running around in the forest getting drunk and killing animals,” retorted Svana sharply. “Besides, the mourning period is practically over. Don’t pretend like you aren’t as tired of it as the rest of us.”
Adale wasn’t sure what was more infuriating—Svana’s disregard for Albion’s death or the fact that she was completely correct in her assessment that Adale wanted to be done with it.
Biting back the worst of her rage, she merely said, “You will look ridiculous in a black ball gown. Like a widow.”
“Then we shall not burden you with an invitation,” Svana snapped, her hands clenching into fists. She wanted to fight just as much as Adale did, but they could not—not with Esofi looking on. Fortunately, a servant finally arrived with Svana’s mandolin, and the argument was dropped.
