She'd dismissed the attentions of Selyna and Vansy-she did not wish to explain what had happened. It was humiliating. In Baen-Tar, she'd been so popular. It was usually so simple to wind men and women around her little finger. She'd assumed that the exotic charms of a Lenay princess would be enough to win popularity in Petrodor. But, instead, there'd been whispers of “easy virtue,” and the attention of men at feasts, which had inspired envy from women in Lenayin, gained only evil stares from the ladies of Petrodor.
She stood behind her favourite garden bench for a moment, gazing out at the nighttime view of the harbour below. There was a lump growing in her throat, a great, inescapable despair. It advanced on her like a dark wave, threatening to drown her within its cold, churning depth.
She'd never meant for Jasin to get hurt. He'd rescued her from the wolf that night. Ever since, he'd been friendly. Evidently it had suited him to be on terms with the beautiful Princess Alythia. No doubt he'd boasted about it to other men, and implied something more intimate. She'd found it amusing. He'd introduced her to his Patachi at the wedding feast, and…and, well. Perhaps she'd simply wished an adventure. Or perhaps she'd truly been seeking companionship. Or, she admitted now to herself, she'd done it simply to get back at her new family.
But they'd harmed Jasin. Possibly tortured him. Whatever she tried, it turned out wrong. She wondered how Marya had managed to become the very image of a devoted Torovan mother so soon after her arrival. Marya had become pregnant, for one thing, she realised. Not immediately, but soon enough. Perhaps she should think about a child. Her maids kept the serrin's white powder for her, safe from Lady Halmady's pryings-it would keep her belly from swelling for however long she wished. But Lady Halmady had not even spoken to her about a son. Perhaps the Halmadys considered there to be no rush.
Or perhaps, the cold thought occurred to her, this was merely a marriage of convenience, for the duration of the war. Halmady secured its ties to Lenayin and the Lenay army until the Saalshen Bacosh was once again free, and then she'd not be needed any more. Perhaps they'd dispose of her, like refuse after some great feast.
The fear returned. She was going to cry any moment now. She'd cry like a little girl, here before the garden guards. Most of them had surely known Jasin, and some probably blamed her for his fate. Her own weakness sickened her. For the first time in her life, she felt truly helpless. None of her talents would help her here, and she did not know what to do.
She turned from the view and walked back toward the house. Guards watched her beneath their broad hats-the stares that had seemed so playful just weeks before now seemed intrusive and unfriendly. After a short walk, she found herself at the gate to the wolf enclosure. Her heart thudding, she peered over the gate, but could see nothing inside. She reached over, feeling for the latch…and withdrew her hand in sudden fear of a lunging grey shape. But no such shape emerged.
Frightened little girl! she thought to herself, furiously. Coward. Sasha would laugh at you. That made her angry. What did she care what Sasha thought? She never had before. But then, Sasha had always thought her a coward. She remembered Sasha laughing at her in the stables when she'd been scared to get close to the horses. And again, when she hadn't liked the kennel dogs any better. In fact, she'd never liked animals very much at all. It had not bothered her then that Sasha thought her a coward. It only bothered her now, when it seemed events might finally prove Sasha right.
She had an idea. She made her way briskly to the kitchen. Even late, there were meals being prepared, an entire bench full of ingredients being chopped, a vast pot of soup bubbling over a flame, the delicious smell of baking bread. The kitchen hands did not pay her much attention-there were always family wandering through the kitchens, investigating tomorrow's meals, or in search of a snack.
Alythia found a bone largely stripped of its meat, but still with some good chunks attached. She took it and walked from the kitchen with no attempt at concealment. It was a trick she'd learned long ago in the halls of Baen-Tar Palace-if you looked like you knew where you were going, no one would question you. And a princess always knew where she was going.
Back at the wolf enclosure, she looked around, but the path between house and outer wall was empty of guards. She reached inside and undid the latch.
The gate moved slowly open. She peered anxiously into the shadow, the bone clutched in one hand-part temptation, part weapon. “Hello?” she called faintly, prepared to leap back at the slightest movement. “Hello puppy?” She was speaking Lenay, she realised, and nearly laughed, in sudden, hysterical humour. Why would a wolf pup be more likely to speak Lenay? It had lived in Torovan most of its life.
A chain tinkled. Two ears appeared, a faint silhouette in the dark. Two eyes glinted. Alythia froze, but the wolf did not move. Her eyes adjusted further, and now she could see it, lying near the enclosure's far side, as far from the gate as its chain would allow. It wasn't really that big, she realised…and was pleased that she remained calm enough to notice such things, despite her pounding heart, dry mouth and trembling hands. In Lenayin, they grew much bigger. She remembered Jasin saying that the wolf had been brought just recently…cubs were born in the spring, and it was now nearly autumn. This one would be four, maybe five months old. Huge, for a puppy. But not for a wolf.
The wolf growled, but did not charge. Instead, it crawled further away, low on its stomach. Its tail was down, tight between its hind legs. It was terrified, Alythia realised. Perhaps it remembered her and the beating it had received afterward. Or perhaps it merely expected beatings from strangers who wandered into its enclosure on a late night, probably reeking of wine.
Shakily, Alythia sank down on her haunches, rearranging her dress. The chain would pull the wolf up short if it charged again, she told herself firmly. She was safe here. She reached back and pushed the gate shut behind her. The wolf stopped crawling. Perhaps it registered something was unusual. Or perhaps its chain had pulled tight. Its nose twitched, sniffing furiously. Alythia remembered the bone in her hand and threw it. The wolf flinched, growled…and paused, sniffing.
“Oh there, you recognise that smell, don't you?” Obviously someone fed the wolf, for it did not seem starved. But she doubted they gave it fresh bones.
The wolf wriggled forward, quite pathetically, straining for the bone yet held back by some invisible force. It was really quite pretty, Alythia saw with surprise as it came closer. There were some evil legends about wolves in Lenayin, but some good ones too. The latter would be Goeren-yai tales, it occurred to her now. Goeren-yai always liked wild animals, especially the dangerous ones. This wolf had thick, dark grey fur, big ears, large paws and round eyes. Still young, with the ears and paws all out of proportion.
Suddenly it lunged, and Alythia stifled a scream…but it only grabbed the bone and scampered back to the far wall. But not all the way, Alythia saw as her heart started beating once more. It settled, with some slack still left in the chain, and began savaging the bone. Surely it would damage its teeth, Alythia thought. Crack! went the bone. Dear lords. Just as well this half-grown puppy hadn't gotten its teeth into her when it had tried to.
Alythia sat down properly and watched the wolf eat. It was strangely relaxing to focus all her attention upon something else. Something strange, and not human. The wolf had its own problems. Alone of all the residents in Halmady House, it cared not a jot for the Princess Alythia's trials and tribulations. The wolf did not begrudge her anything, and would not pass judgment, it merely counted itself lucky to have been fed, and not beaten.