Hell, how callous was that? I’d never thought her a warm and friendly person, she had obviously been raised to be obeyed and had expected blind compliance, but I’d never thought her so hard-hearted, either. This was her son she had been talking about.
“As far as she knew, he had no children, and she was confident he wouldn’t choose an heir until he was much older. Apparently, it’s never wise for a monarch to choose an heir too early, as that heir might be tempted to hurry along the monarch’s death. Should Gifford die without an heir, she wanted it to be possible for Aryne to ascend to the throne.”
“But Aryne isn’t being educated to do anything like that.” Aryne was clever and seemed able to judge people very well, but I really hoped there was more than that to being a good monarch.
“The headmistress of the Source Academy is bringing in people to instruct Aryne in politics, diplomacy, military strategy, and so on.”
“The headmistress knows who Aryne is?”
“No. I asked her to make sure Aryne received a unique education. She doesn’t know why I asked.”
“Oh.” I was shocked to find Taro had that kind of influence.
“But she doesn’t know the code,” said Dias.
The code the heir needed to know in order to inherit.
“It’s not a code. It’s something more elaborate.”
That made sense, given what was to be inherited.
“And I know it.”
We all gaped at him.
“You could be the next monarch,” Dias breathed.
Technically, that was true. In reality, I didn’t think that would be allowed to happen. Taro had the undeserved reputation of being unreliable in anything other than channeling. And, if people didn’t think he was all that smart . . .
Taro scowled. “I am a Source.”
“So’s Aryne,” I reminded him.
“Not a very good one.”
“What has that to do with anything?”
“She may become skilled with training, but I really, really doubt it. She couldn’t even teach.”
Which would leave her engaged in maintenance, cooking, or caring for the children of the Academy. These were all useful and necessary tasks, but to have to do it in one of the academies meant one had failed to become a viable Source or Shield. And such a person might be serving or cleaning up after someone who, only the year before, had been a fellow student. I couldn’t imagine how awkward that would feel. I wouldn’t like Aryne having to accept that. Still. “I don’t think that means she should be, you know, ruling us all.” In fact, the idea kind of horrified me. Aryne had suffered a lot of abuse for much of her life. I wouldn’t blame her if she used whatever power she might acquire to punish the world for her pain.
“I was told to use my judgment.”
We spent more time staring at him.
That was a frightening amount of power to be vested in a person who really didn’t have the training or experience to hold it.
He shrugged with palpable discomfort.
“Do you think the Emperor knows?” Mika asked.
Taro’s eyes widened. Clearly, that was a possibility he’d never considered.
What would the Emperor do if he knew, if he found out? Would he send us to the end of the world? To Taro’s birthplace, hoping my Source would be overwhelmed by the natural events? Maybe the Emperor hadn’t really cared about the title at all, had merely felt the title would be another tie that wasn’t, ultimately, really important to him?
Or would he kill us?
Our secrets were even worse than I’d known. I almost wished Taro hadn’t told me.
But then, it must have been horrible for him, carrying that secret alone.
I didn’t know what to do. It was as though my mind had slowed down, so slow thoughts floated away before I could grab them. I didn’t think I could make a decision to save Taro’s life.
I was so tired, staring down at the floor, feeling suspended from reality. It took me a while to realize Taro was speaking, a while longer to understand he had taken over the duty of reporting our crimes to my brothers.
I expected Mika and Dias to deliver expressions of disgust and walk out, to refuse to talk to us, talk to me, for the remainder of their stay.
Instead, Dias took my hand and placed it on his thigh, covering my hand with his. An odd gesture, but one that drew me from my daze, gave me a firm connection to the world again. And it made me feel safe in a way that I’d never felt before, even with Taro.
We were silent for a while after Taro finished speaking. Mika was frowning. Dias was staring into space. I had no idea what they were thinking, but then I’d never had any skill at reading people. Taro was the one with greater talent in that area.
Then Mika snickered. “Who would think our severe and sensible sister would lead a life of such adventure?”
I could do nothing more than stare at him in shock. That was his response to everything we’d gone through? What the hell?
Taro shoved Mika hard enough to push him right over.
And my brain was still so slow that I found myself protesting, “I’m not severe!”
Dias patted my hand. “It’s reassuring to know that you’ll always leap to the most important issue in any situation.”
“You’re annoying,” I murmured.
“Ah, I love you, too,” he retorted.
And then the sense of relief I’d been too pessimistic to truly anticipate flooded through me. It almost made me dizzy.
And it brought tears to my eyes. What was wrong with me? I’d never been so close to crying so often since I was an adolescent.
“I have to admit, this is more serious than I’d expected,” said Mika, having straightened from Taro’s attack. “But I’d rather know all the details than be ignorant.”
“Why?” Taro asked. “Sometimes I wish I were ignorant.”
“A trader needs to know everything about everything, good and bad, in order to make the right decisions. Everyone does, really, but in my experience, people do prefer to work with their eyes closed. Father’s been able to take advantage of that, in the past.”
“And what do you think is the right decision?” Taro asked.
“We won’t tell anyone else.”
Dias didn’t object to Mika speaking on his behalf.
“We can be discreet. Well”—he glanced at Dias—“
I
can be.”
Dias sketched out a rude hand gesture.
“We know things you don’t. About more than trade. Now that we know what you’ve been up to, well, we can ask better questions. We have a lot of connections spread all over the continent. We could be useful.”
“Useful for what?” Taro asked.
“Warnings? Maybe? If we hear something with the slightest connection to what you’ve just told us, we can relay it to you. You’ve run against some powerful and diverse people. The Emperor, no less. I think you’ll need all the information you can get your hands on.”
“Information is power,” Dias added.
As plans went, it was weak and full of holes, yet it was still reassuring. How odd.
“You haven’t touched the chocolate,” Dias commented.
I frowned at him.
“We’re done with the angst, aren’t we?”
Our trials were “angst”?
Then he grinned. I supposed he was trying to be funny. He wasn’t quite achieving the mark, but I could appreciate the effort. I could use a smile.
I popped a ball of chocolate into my mouth.
My brothers left not long after, and although it wasn’t late, Taro and I went to bed. I didn’t expect to sleep. I thought worry over what I’d told my brothers would keep me awake. Instead, I was sucked into deep slumber the moment I closed my eyes.
The next duty was attending a series of funerals, the final one in observance of the Dowager’s death. It was the one with the smallest attendance. The Dowager had had friends and connections, but apparently none were in the area, and there didn’t appear to be many tenants interested in seeing the Dowager honored. The only servants in attendance were the ones who had worked in the Dowager House, and some of them seemed sincerely devastated. It reminded me how strange people could be.
Taro, the Dowager’s closest family, refused to carry a trinket that represented her, to throw into the fire. I didn’t blame him at all. I thought he was being dutiful to a degree the Dowager didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned, just to attend the funeral at all. And I didn’t think he was at all eased by the ceremony, which was supposed to be the point of it.
He remained withdrawn for days, and hid in our suite. All I could do was watch and hope he rose up from his dark mood on his own.
I received a note from Marcus, in which he asked if he could meet with me. I hadn’t seen a lot of him, and I understood he had been part of the negotiations going on between his father and my mother. I had been happy to avoid anything concerning that process, but I wasn’t comfortable just ignoring Marcus until he left. Cars? No problem. But Marcus, well, I actually kind of liked him.
Though I would never, ever admit it to anyone.
We met in one of the parlors. I sat. Marcus wandered through the room, from window to fireplace to an end table, at which point he picked up a small button box and immediately put it back down again. He was clearly uncomfortable.
“Your mother offered us a partnership,” he said.
“She told me she would.”
“She didn’t have to.”
“There must be something advantageous about it.”
“Well, yes. I suppose. But she—your family, they don’t really need us.”
I shrugged. “From what I’ve learned, fortunes can rise and fall. And I imagine there’s no such thing as having too many friends.”
“No. I suppose not.”
His voice was a little vague, as though he really wasn’t paying attention to what we were saying. “Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m just a little—well, I came here expecting my life to go a certain way.”
“And now it’s taken a sharp right. I thought you’d be relieved.”
“Except now, my father is thinking that with this alliance with your family, a marriage with me will be more appealing to one of the families who rejected us before.”
I was appalled. “You mean, your father still wants to—” Breed him like a stallion?
“Aye.”
“I can’t—I’m sorry.”
“So am I. He will be furious when I refuse. He might even disinherit me.”
My eyebrows flew up in shock.
“It was one thing to comply when we were desperate. I won’t marry just to improve a position that is already, well, good enough.”
To hell with courtesy. “I don’t like your father.”
He smiled. “I can see why you wouldn’t.”
“What will you do if he does disinherit you?”
“Find a position with another family.”
Did he have a fair chance of accomplishing that, a member of a merchant family that had been enduring years of misfortune?
I found myself wishing I could think of some solution for him. And that was a useless wish. I didn’t know anything about such things.
“It’s not done yet,” he said. “And my father may regain his reason once we begin to experience the benefits of our connection with you.”
It seemed a faint hope. I’d seen nothing of Cars to suggest he was a reasonable person.
“But that isn’t why I wanted to speak with you. I just wanted to apologize for all of this.”
“None of it was your fault.”
“I could have refused. Like you did.”
“I think your willingness to do whatever it took to protect your family is an admirable trait. Inconvenient, but admirable.” Sometimes, I could learn new things.
“And now you must marry Shintaro.”
“Aye.”
“Is that so very awful? I understand that you love him.”
“I do love him. But marriage has little to do with love.”
“True enough.”
“And I never thought I’d ever do it. I resent being forced to do it.”
“I can understand that.”
Of course he could.
“My father and I will be leaving shortly.” He held out a hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
I shook it. “You, too.” It hadn’t been, but I was sure I would have enjoyed his company in other circumstances. “Take care.”
They left later that day. I was relieved, despite my appreciation for Marcus’s character. I didn’t want there to be even the most remote possibility that I would have to end up marrying Marcus, after all. The past few weeks had been so unpredictable, I didn’t trust things to remain stable.
My emotions were mixed when I received the news that Kaaren and my father had arrived. My father had been just as responsible as my mother for the mess with the Prides. On the other hand, I’d had more recent contact with my mother than my father, and she’d managed to irritate me. A lot.
His first words to me, when we met in Fiona’s office, were, “I’m sorry.”
For some reason, tears threatened my eyes. Again. What was wrong with me?
“Though if you have to get married,” he continued, “at least it’s to a fine man.”
“And such a pretty one,” Mika added.
Taro raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not hearing any demurrals,” said Mika.
“Surely you didn’t expect any,” Taro retorted.
“Taro is extremely truthful,” I added in the most somber tone I could muster. I was thrilled to hear him speaking at all in something other than a distressing monotone.
My father narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve changed.”
It sounded like an accusation, and I had no idea how to react to that.
“It’s good to see,” he said then.
And suddenly I felt a little offended. Like he was suggesting I had been something inferior before. Which made no sense. If I hadn’t changed after all I’d been through since last seeing him, there would have been something wrong with me.
Bailey actually knocked before entering the office, though he didn’t wait for an invitation to come in. “Good afternoon.” He turned to Taro. “There is a display taking place in the inner garden, my lord. I believe it might be interesting to you.”