The venom in Tatyana’s voice shocked Alyx. She’d long thought of her great-grandaunt as bitter, but never before had she heard such vitriol coursing through the woman’s words. Tatyana had taken Prince Kirill’s death hard. But while she was a bitter woman, she had previously reserved her bile for those who stood between her and the plans to liberate Okrannel.
Tatyana’s nostrils flared angrily. “Some will say he was but a child then. Others will excuse things because of the nature of the time or the sullanciri‘s magick, but Hawkins himself said he regretted your father’s death. Had you heard him, Alexia, heard him then, not now—not after he has had a quarter century to practice his lies and justify things in his mind—you’d have known he regretted his actions at Fortress Draconis.“
“Enough!” Alyx pushed off from the wall and slammed her closed fist on the table, making the chess pieces dance and topple. “I will not have you saying that of Crow. I will not have you saying that of my husband”
Tatyana’s eyes grew huge. “By the gods, Alexia, you are not carrying his child!” The old woman held a skeletal hand out toward her, the fingers clawed and trembling.
“Enough, Aunt Tatyana, enough!” Alexia gave in to temptation and rubbed a hand over her belly as she had seen many a pregnant woman do. “If you came here to hector me, you’ve made a fine start.”
The old woman’s voice did not soften, but shrank to a whisper. “I came here to remind you of your duty to your nation. You know, as do I, that when we liberate Okrannel—when you liberate our homeland—you will be placed on the throne. While our nation has prospered somewhat in exile, we both know that our resources are insufficient to allow us to rebuild. Svoin is gone, and re-creating it will bankrupt us. You, however, are the gateway to a dynasty. Your union with a Southlands princeling would bring us what we need to rise again.”
Alexia laughed and Peri joined her, though softly. “Who would you have me marry, Aunt Tatyana? Linchmere? King Augustus has no eligible sons. Savarre might, but is too far away to trade; likewise for any nation save Saporicia, Jerana, and Gurol. The first two of them are without possibilities, and while Prince Joachim of Gurol is an option, Gurol is almost as poor as Okrannel.”
Her aunt shook her head. “You overlook the obvious: Erlestoke of Oriosa.”
“He remained behind at Fortress Draconis. His father says he is dead.”
The old woman shrugged her shoulders. “Scrainwood is not all-seeing, Alexia.”
Whereas you are? Alexia swallowed the barb. “And you think my being married to Crow will prevent a liaison? Erlestoke, praise the gods if he yet lives, has a lover and a child by her. Would that not make him even less desirable than me?”
“Don’t be a silly girl, Alexia. You know the way of the world. Arrangements can be made. Annulments may be had.”
Alexia let her violet eyes harden. “Very well, let arrangements be made, if I survive the war. If I liberate Okrannel.”
Tatyana hissed and darted a hooded glance at Peri. “You will liberate Okrannel. You know that.”
A shiver ran down Alexia’s back. The emphasis in her great-grandaunt’s words took her back to her meeting with the Crown Circle after the dream raid. She had stood there and explained to them, in exquisite detail, the series of battles she would lead against Chytrine’s troops. She had told them of new warmages that she would field, and how the battles would run. She insisted she would be victorious and had impressed them all with her knowledge of warfare. They had taken heart in her dreams and in her skills, hence the hope of all Okrans exiles rested with her.
“Yes, Aunt Tatyana, I do know; therefore, I know there will be time to make these arrangements of which you speak. I am not mindless of my duty to my nation, but I am also very mindful of my duty to my friends.”
The old woman’s thin lips pressed together into a line, then she slowly nodded. “I see. So this is a sham?”
Alyx lifted her chin. “We have slept together. Scrainwood’s people will tell you that.”
“Yes, but have you lain with him?”
Tatyana’s question shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. The nights on the road had brought her into physical contact with Crow. It hadn’t been the sort of intimacy her question asked after, but it had been more than casual. Comfortable described it in part, but insufficiently. Her inability to name it frustrated her as much as her missing it now did.
The princess put her frustration into a snort. “Would you inspect my loins, Grand Duchess?”
The old woman flicked a finger and one of the guards started forward until Peri’s furious shriek split the air. “Touch my sister and the witch will be opened throat to belly.” The Gyrkyme held her left hand out, wickedly hooked talons ready to strike.
“Peri, hold.” Alexia glared at the guard, backing him into his place. “You have forgotten one thing, Grand Duchess. You may lead the Crown Circle, you may have the ear of your brother, but I am the crown princess. Nowhere amid your edicts or pronouncements do you have the right to touch my person. You forgot that once and paid a small price for it. Neither you nor your agents will get off so lightly this time.”
Tatyana clutched her hands back to her breast and rubbed the fingers that Alexia had bitten at their first meeting, when Tatyana had pried her mouth open to inspect her teeth. “And have you forgotten, Crown Princess Alexia, that while you have been off being trained to win our nation back, I have held it together? The debts owed to our house are owed to me. Arrogance and disregard for me and my wishes will cost you terribly.”
The old woman stood and reached back for the cloak that was quickly draped over her shoulders. “But go on and play your little game to save this Crow. Just remember, in your dreams, you never had a husband. Consider carefully which way you influence the future. So much rests on your shoulders. I would not have you ruin things on a whim.”
“Not a whim, Aunt Tatyana, but for a friend and a man who will much annoy the enemy.”
Tatyana raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Then, perhaps, he will be worth a look, this Crow. I hope for your sake he is, else he will be a distraction and all shall fall to ashes for your folly.”
15
General Markus Adrogans, leader of the Jeranese Horse Guards and commander of the Southlands expedition liberating Okrannel, stood on a windswept hill to the north of the city of Guraskya. He granted that it was a city, for it was the capital of the Guranin Highlands, but compared to the sophisticated cities to the south and east—cities of stone and soaring towers—it seemed little more than a village grown beyond all proportion.
Though the Guranin highlanders did pay allegiance to the Okrans crown, having long ago been conquered, they did hold themselves as a people apart. Younger sons and daughters of the Okrans conquerors had married into the highland clans and instead of bringing city sophistication to their new home, the Okrans nobility were seduced by the strength of highland bloodlines and custom. For generations, lesser nobles fled to the highlands when cities could not contain their dreams and rebellious spirits, and the Guranin welcomed them openly.
Guraskya had been laid out in highland fashion, which meant it really had not been planned at all. Rectangular longhouses of wood, with thatched roofs and smoke holes, provided shelter. The buildings did not rise above a single story, nor were wings built onto them when a clan grew beyond that single structure. Other buildings would be raised, some nearby, some far, none connecting and all canted at angles that made them look like debris left from tossed jackstraw.