“These are fuchsias,” he told her, lifting his fingers to one of the dangling, colorful stems. “They grow abundantly all over our kingdom. Come; your journey may have been short, but your preparations were long. You must be hungry.”
Pulling aside one of the aqua blue curtains, he revealed the interior of the pavilion. A low oval table lay in the center of a rug-padded, cushion-strewn platform. Like most of the other things she had seen since beginning that bathing ritual, the table was gilded and inlaid with semiprecious stones. Gilded dishes lined its surface, many of them covered with decorative domes.
Leading her to one side, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Gabria. Until now, I have only seen whatever visions of you Ruul has granted unto me. I am honored the reality is more pleasant than the vision.”
She stiffened at the name of his deity. “... Are we alone yet?”
“Not quite. And I must introduce myself first. I am Devin, second-born son of Elric and Talinea, current Seer King of Aurul, blessed of Ruul ... but you may call me Devin, particularly when we are alone. You have met my elder brother, Lord Daric, of course.” Gesturing for her to sink onto the cushions, he lent her his hand for balance, then took himself around the table to the far side, continuing his introductions. “I also have a sister, Lady Atena; currently, she is our ambassador to the kingdom of Haida, which lies to the southwest of us, due east of Sundara. You, of course, are Gabria of the family Springreaver. Do you have any siblings?”
“Two sisters.” It felt a little strange to be making polite conversation with a near-stranger she had just married, but she had resolved to make the best of the situation.
For the sake of Guildara, of course
. Finding what looked like a napkin on the table, she draped it across her folded legs. “I’m the middle child. My eldest sister is Marica. She works as an accountant for the Glassworks Guild. And, of course, she’s a member of the Accountant’s Guild.
“My younger sister, Zeda, is a journeyman chef for the Hospitaller’s Guild—those are the people who serve in taverns, inns, restaurants, and the like. She was originally apprenticed to the Glassworks Guild, since our eldest sister had some clout and it’s a good career for a woman, it doesn’t require as much strength as, say, the Iron Smelter’s Guild, but she discovered she really prefers working with food.” Gabria eyed the dishes between them and gestured hesitantly at the lids. “Are we going to begin eating, or ... ?”
He lifted his hand, and two men in the cream-and-lavender robes of the royal household parted the curtains on the side opposite from their entrance. They came in, bowed to their king, bowed to Gabria—nearly as deeply, she noticed, though not quite—and uncovered the dishes. Bowls of greens rested on chunks of ice, as did mixtures of exotic, screw-shaped spirals of something vaguely pastry-like tossed with tender vegetables in a glistening sauce. Other dishes held gravyslathered chunks of meat cooked on skewers. Strange peach white curls of what looked like meat formed rings on another plate, encircling a dish filled with some sort of creamy gold, herb-speckled sauce.
The two servants brought forth bowls of water and little towels. Watching Devin dipping and scrubbing his fingers in the water, Gabria did the same. The water had been scented with lemons and was refreshingly cool. The little drying cloths were soft, exotic cotton, which came from so far away, Gabria couldn’t remember the name of the place, other than that it was extremely expensive.
Marta has a set of cotton drying cloths, a coronation gift sent from Sundara. She let me touch them ... but these are even softer than hers. I think because they’ve been washed and used many times, like well-worn linen.
Once their hands were clean and dry, the servants shifted the bowls and cloths to the end of the table, then brought forth pitchers, etched with cooling runes, and poured water into two of the goblets, and what smelled like a pale golden wine into two more, placing one of each in front of the two diners. Bowing again, they retreated to the pillars to either side of the curtains they had entered through, knelt on a pair of cushions laid out for them, and settled in to wait until needed again.
Bemused, Gabria glanced at them, then at the Seer King. He lifted the goblet of water nearest him, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Praise be unto Ruul, who brought you into my life.”
Holding the blown-glass cup aloft, he waited patiently. Pointedly glancing at her own.
THREE
S
ighing, Gabria lifted her cup, though she didn’t say anything. She had a problem with his God and couldn’t quite bring herself to lie about it. Thankfully, Devin didn’t seem to be offended by her lack of words. Lowering his cup, he sipped from it, so she sipped from hers. It was cool, sweet, and quenched some of her thirst. She copied his moves and started serving herself small portions of this and that, sticking mostly to the foods she recognized.
“There are certain ... rituals ... involved in the marriage of a Seer King,” Devin stated a few moments later, after having bitten into one of the white peach curls of meat and sipped at the wine placed by his water glass. “Rituals and traditions. Since you are an outlander, I need to enlighten you as to this particular one. We have begun the Three Days of Grace. They are designed to allow the Seer and his bride the opportunity to get to know each other first, without the pressure or expectation of begetting any heirs.”
She blushed at his words.
That
was one of her strongest points of objection to this whole mess, second only to the fact he harbored a God in his body, and she was deathly afraid of all deities, thanks to her people’s unpleasant past. Gabria opened her mouth to address that fact, only to find herself silenced again when he raised his hand.
“I know, you wish to speak of Ruul’s intentions regarding your presence here. There will be time for that, I promise. First, you must know what these three days are. Out in the rest of the kingdom, these are three days of rejoicing for my people, of celebrations and feasts and prayers of well wishes for myself and my bride. Prayers for you, that you will, ah, be fruitful and kind, and prayers for me, that I will be fruitful and loving. But as you and I come to each other as strangers—as most Seer Kings and their brides have been—we are given three days to become better acquainted, and to begin a lifelong friendship.
“In fact, my father dined with my mother in this very pavilion over forty years ago,” he added, making her aware that he was, indeed, older than her, mid-thirties to her mid-twenties. “They both still live, and he is still a holy Seer, though obviously, he is no longer the Seer King.
“You would have met them already, but my mother fell and injured her hip last week, and the palace healers have decreed bed rest for her, otherwise she would have been in the Vaulted Chapel. My father chose to keep her company, for they came to love each other very strongly over the years—as was prophesied—or he would have been here himself. Are your parents still alive?”
“My mother is. She works for the Hydraulics Guild, the same as I myself did for many years.” She thought about mentioning her father, but refrained. Doing so would bring up her objections to being so close to a God, and he apparently didn’t want to discuss such things just yet.
Instead, she spooned some of the screw-shaped dish onto her plate and tasted a few bits. The spirals were indeed some sort of wheat-based pastry, lightly coated in a spiced mixture of oil and vinegar. The vegetables had been blanched and chilled along with the pastry screws, so while they were cooked, they were still crisp and tasty. The combination pleased her.
Devin smiled wryly. “Forgive me. I’m so eager to get to know you, I keep forgetting to finish the explanation ... As I was saying, for three days, we will spend all our time together, conversing, sharing our backgrounds and our interests, and spending time finding the points of similarities in our educations and interests. We will even sleep in the same bed, but without any intimate congress between us. Once the three days are up, we will have another three, the Days of Intimacy, wherein we explore each other’s preferences in pleasure, even as we continue to explore each other’s pasts and pastimes.
“On the seventh day, you will begin your instructions in Aurulan protocols, courtesies, rituals, and the like, while I will return to my duties as Seer King and high priest of our people. These are the
only
days, at least ever since the Eyes of Ruul were laid upon me, wherein I am free from all duties and obligations as the Seer King. I intend to enjoy them for as long as they last,” he added dryly. “In fact, one week after we finish our post-wedding days of peace and idleness, the whole court will have to pack up and go on tour to the eastern lands, making our way to the summer palace up in the mountains north of here by a bit of a circuitous route.
“I must make my way to the winter palace via the seven major cities to the east,” he explained. “The journey takes a full month, and it allows the people of the land to see, and be seen by, the Eyes of Ruul. Naturally you will travel with me, though there won’t be much opportunity for privacy, save late at night. Either we’ll be traveling all day long to get to each city on time, or I’ll be spending all my time in prayers and prophecies in the various cathedrals.”
Hearing his apologetic tone, Gabria felt a soft rush of sympathy for him. “Are you always the Seer King, then? With no time for yourself?”
“A few hours every day in the morning and evening, but many of the rest are spent listening to petitions and leading prayers, and laying hands upon those who come before me in the hopes that I may foresee something of their futures—it is a job much like any other,” Devin added wryly. “Save that I carry a heavier burden than most, for all I carry it upon my heart and in my eyes, and not on my shoulders or in my hands. The heaviest obligations come when we make the half loop to the east in the spring—which was delayed slightly this year so that you and I could adjust to being wed—and the half loop to the west in the autumn.
“But eventually we will be settled into the winter palace. And eventually your lessons will end. You will have some light duties of your own to attend to, some rituals to preside over in addition to your role as future vessel and mother of the next Seer King. You will also be allotted time for your own pursuits and interests ... though I’m afraid we don’t have one of these Hydraulics Guilds you mention.” Devin shook his head slightly. “Frankly, if it weren’t for Ruul’s clearly stated wishes, the thought of a Mekhanan being the bride of the Seer King would upset my people. We’ve never had reason to look kindly upon your former kingdom. You will be scrutinized on our trip, and I know that Souder plans to squeeze as many rules of proper behavior and etiquette into you that he can before we head east.”
“Blame the ambitions of the False God’s priests for all of that,” Gabria retorted. “Not the majority of my people.
We
wanted free of the madness of their lust for conquest ... and we
are
free. You may inform your people that I am a Guildaran,
not
a Mekhanan.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her point. “Captain Ellett explained the battle he and his men joined, and how your people handled its aftermath. My people would say, it only takes a few bugs in a basket of fruit to spoil the sale. But we also admit that most of the fruit is usually still good if salvaged in time. And it is quite clear that some of your people are very worthy of our friendship, with yourself as the foremost example.”
“Well, I suppose my future duties will include ensuring your people enact treaties and enjoy peaceful trade with mine,” she allowed, “though I’m really not trained to be a diplomat. Not like Envoy Pells.”
He coughed into his hand. “Well, as for
that
... you technically cannot
be
an envoy, since your other duties will be far more important ... though naturally you will have some definite influence of our opinions regarding your home nation. And I’m sure you could become a good envoy given time and training. My brother, the Prime Minister, would never accept you as an envoy, however. Your position is the vessel of motherhood. It is a holy calling higher than any other, and deeply enmeshed within Aurulan customs and concerns. Since you are not Aurulan by birth, you will have to undergo a lengthy period of training in Aurulan ways, so that you may be an appropriate influence upon our children.
“A kind one, either way,” he allowed quickly, “and undoubtedly a good mother without training—Ruul would not choose otherwise—but there are certain expectations of the royal siblings, ensuring that at least one of them is raised to be a worthy enough vessel for the Eyes of Ruul, and another is worthy of being the Prime Minister, that you will need training in the ways of proper parenting. We’ve had five hundred thirty-six years to perfect the system, after all. Hence all these rituals.”
His words dredged up her objections once again. Gabria thought about it for a long moment, then sighed. “... Can we
please
be alone, now?”