Senneth’s face showed a good deal of comprehension. “Of course. You won’t be a prisoner here in the palace. And Jerril and the others will get along just fine without you. Why, you were gone for months last year, traveling around the country with me. How do you think they managed then?”
He grinned and ducked his head. “I just wanted-it seemed-”
She ruffled his hair again. “You’ve been abandoned so many times yourself that you hate to abandon anyone else,” she said, though he had never told her that, not in so many words. “I know. But this time, trust me, Cam, it’s all right. Now, come on. I’m supposed to take you to say hello to the princess.”
CHAPTER 4
CAMMON saw the princess and straightaway stopped worrying about anybody else.
Senneth ushered him into a room he had never seen before, much smaller than most of the grand salons that made up the palace. It was on the second floor, tucked behind a stairwell and overlooking the back part of the compound, the walled gardens and lightly wooded acres. There was a feminine feel to it, for all the hangings were in soft pinks and deep creams, and cold sunlight poured in through the tall windows.
Valri was sitting in a striped chair, her hands folded in her lap and her expression grave. It wasn’t just her black hair and midnight-blue gown that gave her an impression of darkness; she seemed pooled with tension and gloom. By contrast, Amalie, standing and smiling down at the queen, radiated light. She was still wearing her gold dress and her red-gold hair was unbound. She stood in the sunshine and seemed to be made of some burnished and beautiful element.
“Majesties,” Senneth said, and curtseyed. Cammon echoed her with a clumsy bow.
Amalie flew across the room, put her hands on Cammon’s shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.
He forgot everything else.
“Cammon!” the princess exclaimed, stepping back a little but keeping one hand on his sleeve. “Thank you for saving my father’s life! What would have happened if you hadn’t been there? I can’t bear to think about it.”
“Well, I was there,” was all he could think to say, and it sounded idiotic. He beamed down at her.
“And thank all the gods for that,” she replied warmly.
Senneth moved between them with apparent carelessness, but Cammon knew she did it on purpose. Amalie dropped her hand. “What would have happened is that the assassin would have pulled his knife and leapt for the king, and your uncle Romar would have interfered, and probably killed the man, and the commotion would have brought the Riders in, and your father might have been wounded but he would not have died.”
“You can’t know that,” Amalie said.
“No,” said Senneth, “but that is truly what I believe. Come, shall we sit down?”
They pulled chairs up next to Valri, all of them wanting to bask in the sunlight. The dark queen said, “I admit, I was surprised to see the regent pull a sword. I thought only Riders were allowed weapons inside the palace walls.”
Senneth smiled. “Yes, but Lord Romar is a swordsman, and a good one, too, and his loyalty is beyond question. So, he is allowed to bear arms.”
“I wish we could simply close up the palace and never speak to another soul,” Valri said. “Keep everybody safe within its walls.”
“Hardly an effective way to govern,” Senneth said gently.
“And now we are to have a parade of suitors vying for Amalie’s hand, and every last one of them will be lying about something, and we shall have to be on our guard every single hour of every single day,” the queen said bitterly. “I spent all of last summer afraid for her life, and now I shall have to be afraid all over again.”
Cammon was interested to see that it was Amalie who leaned forward to offer comfort. Amalie was only six or seven years younger than her stepmother, and the bond between them appeared to be very tight. Sometimes last summer Cammon had been unsure who was the stronger, though. Amalie was so fresh and unspoiled, and Valri so intense.
“Don’t be afraid, Valri,” Amalie said in her soft voice. “We have friends around us night and day. We are as safe as anybody can be.”
THEY conferred for maybe an hour, Cammon and the three women who were now, apparently, going to direct his life. Truth to tell, he didn’t add much to the conversation, just sat there feeling a peculiar sense of satisfaction. It was as if the strength of their personalities warmed him as much as the sunshine did, filled him with a similar kind of glow. Senneth and Valri discussed what Cammon should wear, what he might expect to hear when serramar came calling, how often they should meet to strategize. And then, as if they could not help themselves, they began speculating on which heirs from which Houses might make the best match for the princess.
“If only your brother Will wasn’t set to marry Casserah Danalustrous!” the queen exclaimed. “Think what a good match Brassenthwaite would be for the throne!”
Senneth shook her head. “I can think of nothing, at this moment, more likely to cause discord in the realm. Already Halchon and Rayson believe Brassenthwaite is too powerful, and such a marriage would probably convince a few other Houses to join their cause. No, we need to wed her someplace where the alliance will do us most good.”
“Coravann, perhaps,” Valri said. “Heffel Coravann has a son who is about Amalie’s age.”
Senneth nodded. “I have been thinking a good deal about Ryne Coravann. Heffel wants to remain neutral in this war-if there is a war-but a wedding with royalty would most definitely swing him to our side. And Coravann is a strategic ally. So close to the Lirrenlands, on good terms with both Gisseltess and Nocklyn, and yet not such a powerful House that the marlords would rise up in protest.”
“But marlord Heffel is a friend to Coralinda Gisseltess,” Cammon protested. It was his first contribution to the conversation in at least twenty minutes. “Don’t you remember? He invited her to his ball last summer. He worships the Pale Mother. Aren’t you afraid that his son might be a fanatic?”
That caused them all to fall quiet for a moment and think. Coralinda Gisseltess led the order known as the Daughters of the Pale Mother, and she and all her followers feared and hated mystics. Like her brother, Halchon, she wanted to remake Gillengaria-but her main goal was to see mystics burned at the stake and every scrap of magic eradicated from the land.
“It’s true that Heffel reveres the Pale Mother,” Senneth said slowly. “But I would not hold that against him-you can be a good man and still love the moon goddess. What concerns me more is that he does not seem to realize how dangerous Coralinda is. Yet, Heffel is not a fool. I do not believe he could be tricked into battle by either Coralinda or her brother. I do not believe he will ever take up arms against the king.”
“I danced with Ryne a few times when we were at Coravann Keep,” Amalie said.
“What did you think of him?” Valri asked.
Amalie shrugged. “Well, he was drunk both times, and he knew that made his sister angry, and that made him laugh,” she said. “I thought he was charming but not very-very-” She shrugged.
“Not very princely,” Valri said in a severe voice.
“He’s only seventeen or eighteen, I believe,” Senneth said.
Valri gestured. “Cammon’s only twenty, isn’t he, and he’s far more responsible than Ryne! Or so it appears.”
“Well, then, let us look at our other options,” Senneth said.