“Maybe so, but if it gives my subjects hope, I will not ask you to correct them,” Saski said. Then she sighed. “I think this year alone has been worse than the past four combined. If this issue is not resolved soon, our people will begin to panic. The Order of the Sun does have a strong presence here, but their magic is primarily defensive. The battlemages you brought us will make all the difference, I am certain.”
“Regarding the battlemages,” said Esofi. “I wonder if I might make a proposal to you? I have had much time to think during the journey, and I believe I’ve come up with an idea that will protect us for many generations to come.”
But Queen Saski never had the chance to respond, because that was when a long shadow fell across the table and the Crown Princess Adale decided to put in an appearance.
Adale was a tall, lanky woman with an oval face and a thin nose. She wore her long, dark hair in a pair of braids that had been allowed to swing free, rather than being pinned up. Here and there, curls had escaped to cradle her face or occasionally stick straight up in the air. She was dressed in what had once been a lovely silver gown in the Ieflarian style but now was covered in grass stains.
Esofi’s fingers gave an involuntary little twitch. She’d left her prayer beads in her room.
“Adale!” Queen Saski sounded more exhausted than scandalized. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting—”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” retorted Adale.
Esofi rose from her seat abruptly and sank into a formal curtsy. “My lady, I am pleased to meet you at last.”
Adale did not respond immediately. She seemed to be at a loss. Then she slouched into a chair and pulled a tray of sandwiches toward herself. Esofi returned to her seat at a more sedate pace, wondering if it would be most advantageous to turn the conversation back to her proposal for the university or attempt to engage with Adale.
“Where have you been this morning, Adale?” asked Queen Saski.
Adale answered with a shrug.
“It must have been important, since you kept your new bride waiting for nearly half an hour.”
“I thought I’d give her a chance to run away,” said Adale.
Saski snatched the sandwich from her daughter’s hand. “Can you be serious for a moment? I realize I let you and your brother run wild, and now I’m paying the price for it. I’d hoped your role in Albion’s death would cause you to wake up—”
Adale slammed her hands down on the table, knocking over all the teacups. Esofi completely failed to bite back a scream at the suddenness of it. Servants were beside her immediately with a hand fan and towels.
“My role?” Adale cried. “Are you blaming me?”
“That is not what I said,” replied Queen Saski.
“But it’s what you meant, isn’t it?”
Nobody said anything for a long moment.
Queen Saski gritted her teeth together. “Adale,” she said in a very strained voice, “you’ve gone and spilled the tea.”
“I don’t care about your tea, I—” Adale glanced over at Esofi, who was still being desperately fanned by a servant, and seemed to come to her senses. Without another word, she began quietly righting the dishes she had knocked over.
“There is to be a hunt tomorrow on the castle hunting grounds,” said Adale at last. “You are welcome to join us, Princess.”
“Tomorrow?” Esofi hesitated as she thought of all that still needed to be done, weighing it against the prospect of making a good impression on Adale. “I apologize, but I cannot. I’ve still not visited the temple, and—”
“Don’t worry,” said Adale. “I know you just got here. Maybe next time.”
“Yes,” said Esofi. “Certainly the next time.”
Queen Saski made a soft noise of exasperation. “All the hunts you children go on, it’s a wonder there’s a single stag left in those woods. We’ll be shipping them in from the countryside soon enough.”
“Perhaps we can bring in a boar, then,” suggested Adale.
“By Iolar.” Queen Saski pressed one hand over her heart.
“Have you ever hunted boar?” Adale asked Esofi.
Esofi shook her head. She had been on many hunts, of course, but had left the baser aspects of it to those who were inclined.
“It is too bad that the dragons have made it so difficult to travel,” said Adale wistfully. “Theodoar and I were hoping to visit Vesolda—it’s said they hunt bear. Can you imagine?”
“I wouldn’t like to,” said Queen Saski.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not so bad as that,” reassured Adale. “They wouldn’t do it if the danger were too great.”
Esofi breathed a small laugh. “You are as Albion described.”
“What?” Adale looked puzzled.
“Prince Albion often spoke of you in his letters,” Esofi explained. “We corresponded frequently for many years.”
“I had no idea.” Adale seemed stunned. “He wrote of me? What did he say?”
“I do not wish to do his words injustice,” murmured Esofi, “but perhaps we shall peruse them together someday. I have all but a few saved. I regret that I lost the early ones. I was young and careless.”
“I would like that.” Adale’s face went so oddly soft that she almost looked like a different person entirely. “Thank you.”
Esofi nodded and looked at her gloves.
“How are you liking Ieflaria so far?” asked Adale, who suddenly appeared to have a legitimate interest in her. “You came northward from Gennelet, didn’t you? You got to see some of our best farmland.”
“It’s all so large compared to Rhodia,” said Esofi. “And flat too—almost like the sea at rest. It feels strange to look to the distance and see no mountains.”
“Did you frequently go to the mountains?” asked Adale.
“If we tried to avoid them, the entire population would be confined to a rather small space,” explained Esofi. “Even Rho Dianae is built onto a mountainside. I shall miss being so near to the moon and stars.” She already missed the beautiful white marble palace that had been her home, even though she had spent her entire life preparing to leave it behind.
“I can’t imagine that’s very much fun to farm,” observed Adale.
“You must forgive my daughter,” Queen Saski interrupted. “She’s apparently learned nothing from her tutors.”
“It’s quite all right,” Esofi reassured them both. Then for Adale’s benefit, she added, “Rhodia does very little planting—our soil is weak, and only the hardiest of plants will grow in it. We do have our herdsmen and our hunters and our fishermen, but most of our crops are imported from Xytae.”
“Ah, to have an ocean between ourselves and Emperor Ionnes,” murmured Queen Saski. Though the Xytan Empire was no longer the unstoppable force that it had been so many centuries ago, it still maintained a formidable army. They had never made any indication that they planned to march upon Ieflaria, and they were currently occupied with a campaign in Masim, but Esofi knew that could change at a moment’s notice.
“Our primary exports come from our mines and quarries,” Esofi explained to Adale. “Emperor Ionnes does so love our white marble, and we are fond of his granaries. Still, I am glad for the distance between our lands.”
The sandwiches were ruined, so the meeting came to a premature end. And perhaps it was Esofi’s imagination, but Adale seemed not quite so unhappy as she’d been before as they said their farewells.
As Esofi was leaving the gardens, Lisette came to meet her. She had a large, unnervingly artificial smile upon her face.
“There is a man watching you,” she managed to say through her smile. “He has been standing behind the rose bushes the entire time.”
“How lovely that sounds,” Esofi responded warmly.
“He is Theodoar of Leikr, the son of the Marquis of Leikr.” Lisette’s voice was nearly inaudible, but the long journey together had taught Esofi how to listen for it. “The crown princess entered the garden with him, and he waits for her now.”
“It is to be expected,” Esofi said loudly, waving her hand as though they were discussing nothing more important than dresses. “Overall, I am not displeased.”