He didn’t stop to think that was, not least, because they would have been found out even sooner than they had been. And he didn’t stop to think that he would have wanted to take her to bed even if he hadn’t done it.
Nor did his excuses help him a bit. “I don’t care whether it’s true or not,” Estrilda snarled. “You did what you told me—what you promised me—you wouldn’t do again. That’s what I care about.”
“I’m sorry,” Grus said—another ancient and useless cry.
He had no luck with that one, either. “I’ll bet you’re sorry,” Estrilda said. “You’re sorry you got caught. Why else would you be sorry? You were down there in the south having yourself a fine old time. You always have yourself a fine old time down in the south, don’t you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Grus said.
“Oh, I’m sure. Tell me how it was.” His wife shook her head. “No, don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”
“But I love you,” Grus said. It was true. He’d never stopped caring for Estrilda. How much good it was likely to do him was a different question.
It did him none at all. “You picked a wonderful way to show it, didn’t you?” Estrilda said acidly.
“You don’t understand,” Grus protested.
“I’m sure you told that to What’s-her-name, the witch,” Estrilda said with a scornful laugh. “ ‘My wife doesn’t understand me.’ How many liars have lured women into bed with that one? But I understand you, all right. I understand you just fine.” She spat on the floor at Grus’ feet. “And that’s what I think of you.”
“Estrilda—”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, it’ll only be another lie.” She stabbed out a finger at him; he supposed he should have been glad she didn’t have a knife. “What would you say, what would you do, if I’d been screwing one of your handsome bodyguards? Well? What do you have to say about that, Your Majesty?” She laced the royal title with revulsion.
“That’s different,” Grus said. The mere idea filled him with rage.
Estrilda laughed in his face—a vicious laugh, a flaying laugh. “Men say so. Men can afford to say so. They’re mostly bigger and stronger than women, and they mostly make the rules. But do you really think I’m any less disgusted with you than the witch’s husband is with her?”
Through all of this, Grus had done his best not to think about Alca’s husband. He went right on doing his best not to think about him. He said, “How can I show you how sorry I am?”
“Send Alca away,” Estrilda said at once. “I don’t care where you send her, as long as it’s far from the city of Avornis. I never want to see her again. I never want you to see her again, either.”
“But she’s one of the best sorcerers in the kingdom,” Grus protested.
“I’m sure that’s what you noticed about her—her sorcery, I mean,” his wife said with a glare that could have melted iron.
“If it weren’t for her sorcery, I’d be dead,” Grus said. “Would that—?” He stopped. If he asked Estrilda, Would that make you happy? she was altogether too likely to answer, Yes. Instead, he went on, “Her magic was what put an end to Corvus’ rebellion, too.”
“Huzzah,” Estrilda said. “If she’s such a wonderful witch, she’ll do very well for herself wherever you send her. And if she doesn’t, she’s always got another trade to fall back on—fall on her back on.” She spat again.
“She’s no harlot,” Grus protested, beginning to get angry himself. Estrilda only laughed another laugh full of daggers. “She isn’t,” Grus said stubbornly.
“Fine. I don’t care what she is, as long as she isn’t here,” his wife said. “You asked me what you could do, and I told you. That’s a start, anyhow. If you don’t want to…” She didn’t say what she would do then. Grus could imagine a good many possibilities, none of them pleasant.
He sighed. He’d put himself in this predicament, and knew it only too well. “Have it your way, then. She’ll go.”
“All right,” Estrilda said. “That’s a start. A start, mind you.” Another sigh escaped from Grus. He might have known mending fences with his wife would cost him. He had known mending fences with his wife would cost him. Now he would have to find out exactly how expensive it was.
Lanius had always chafed at his own obscurity. He’d wanted to be at the heart of great affairs. Once in a while, though, being of no particular importance had its advantages.
King Grus’… problems with Queen Estrilda made everyone in the royal palace walk on eggs. The least misstep landed a servant in trouble. Lanius didn’t want to think about what sort of trouble a misstep might land him in. But what was he supposed to say when Sosia rounded on him one afternoon and demanded, “You’d never do anything like that, would you?”
As a matter of fact, he knew what he was supposed to say. “Of course not, dear.”
“Good,” his wife said. “There’s nothing worse, nothing lower, than somebody who’s unfaithful.”
Lanius nodded politely. He was used to keeping his opinions to himself. Being unfaithful is bad, yes, he thought. Getting caught being unfaithful is worse.
That was one of the things that had kept him from amusing himself with the serving women in the palace, as he’d done before he was married. If he did, Lanius would find himself in the same unpleasant predicament as Grus. Grus was welcome to it.
Besides which, Sosia kept him happy enough. He didn’t know whether Estrilda had kept Grus happy. But some men— and, no doubt, some women—fooled around just for the sport of fooling around. He didn’t fully understand the impulse.
Sosia went on, “It’s hard when you can’t trust anybody.”
“Yes, it is,” Lanius agreed. He’d known about that since he was very small.
“How could he?” Sosia demanded.
“If you really want to find out, you’ll ask him,” Lanius answered.
She made a horrible face. “I couldn’t do that.”
Lanius shrugged. “Well, don’t ask me, because I wasn’t there and I didn’t do it.” He wanted her to remember that.
“But you’re a man,” she said.
“Women go astray, too,” he pointed out, which made Sosia scowl again. He added, “The witch here has—had—a husband; too.”
“Had,” Sosia said. “He threw her out of the house. I wish Mother could throw Father out of her house.”
That made Lanius laugh, though it wasn’t really funny. “She can’t,” he said. “Nobody can do anything to your father that he doesn’t want done.” Except an assassin, he thought, but he didn’t say that for fear of the evil omen. He didn’t want Grus dead, just out of his hair.
Sosia said, “I know nobody can do anything to him. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Really?” Lanius laughed again, with even less mirth than before. “I never would have noticed.”
His wife turned red. “I know you don’t think what’s happened is right. I wouldn’t be your queen if it hadn’t happened, you know.”
And would I be happier if you weren’t? Lanius didn’t know. Most marriages in Avornis were arranged unions, not love matches. This one hadn’t worked out badly; by now, the two of them did love each other, perhaps as much from familiarity as for any other reason. As for Grus… “Your father isn’t that bad a man.”
“He’s a beast!” Sosia exclaimed.
“No.” Lanius shook his head. “If your father were a beast, he would have murdered me. I admit as much. He would have murdered lots of people. He hasn’t. He has no taste for blood. Plenty of Kings of Avornis have.”