Chapter 31

After Annalise and Soren finished their breakfast, she joined her aunt for one last ride. Brunen was already waiting for them when they arrived. She was alone, and Annalise tried not to let her disappointment show. Ever since she’d met the chestnut mare while with Soren, she’d kept an eye out, but despite visiting the overlook every few days she hadn’t seen her again. 

“Don’t look so sad or you’ll make Brunen feel unappreciated,” Helene said, her light blue eyes alight with mirth. As if in agreement with her rider, Brunen nudged Annalise’s side with her nose.  

Annalise pet the rhys gently and wished not for the first time that she could actually feel the muzzle that looked velvet soft instead of wearing two pairs of gloves out of fear that one would develop a hole. “I’m sorry, Brunen. You are beautiful; I’m just in an odd mood today.” 

“She thanks you and wants to know if you’re missing the mare that was with her several weeks ago.” 

Annalise’s hand stilled against Brunen’s muzzle before she resumed the strokes. “If I’m being honest, yes, I do. She was beautiful too.” 

“Brunen said that she’s a troublemaker, but she thought you might like her. It’s a pity…” Helene’s eyes lost focus as she gazed off into the distance for a moment before snapping back when Brunen snorted. “But I forget myself, and that’s neither here nor there.” 

“I’d like to hear what you were about to say, all the same,” Annalise said. 

“It was just the ramblings of a middle-aged woman; don’t pay any heed to it.” 

Annalise didn’t pry—she’d learned much about her matriarchal heritage, most notably that she was the latest in a long line of strong-willed women. Instead of pressing the subject, she asked a question that had bugged her off and on for the past several weeks. 

“Aunt Helene, you told me once that you don’t have any children.” 

“That’s right, the Goddess never saw fit to bless Lennart and I with a child.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who is your heir?” 

“Someone you’ve already met—Captain Linnean Padrin is my aunt’s grandson, making him your second cousin, and the first in line for the throne.”  

“Captain Padrin?” Annalise couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. Beyond when he’d escorted her to Murana, she’d seen very little of the captain and from what she understood, he took his job as head of the valley security very seriously and spent most of his time away from Orighet.

Helene raised an eyebrow. “Do you disapprove?” 

“Not at all. He seems very…capable.” Suddenly the silver circlet glinting in Captain Padrin’s hair gained a new meaning.

“He’s not much of a talker, that’s for sure, but he does his job well, and I have no doubt that when the Goddess eventually calls me home, Murana will be in good hands.” Helene cast a sidelong glance at Annalise. “Technically, your tie is stronger by blood, but when Elvira left Murana she renounced her claim to the chieftainship.”

“I have no desire to make a play for the throne of Murana.” Annalise lifted her face to the sky and breathed in the fresh air. “I do not plan on telling anyone about our blood relation, in fact. My only inheritance will be the honor of knowing that I keep the secret of the rhys like everyone else in the valley.”

“For that, you are wise beyond your years. Thank you.”

A thought suddenly struck Annalise. “What if you have a child?” 

“At my age?” Helene threw her head back and laughed. “I hope I don’t. I’m a bit too old and set in my ways to be up at all hours of the night nursing a newborn. No, Brunen here has had several foals, so between the two of us we average out to a perfectly suitable number of offspring.”

Brunen stamped her feet and nipped Helene on the arm, although Annalise doubted it did any real damage through her furs and thick woolen dress. “I take it that Brunen didn’t like that very much?” she asked.

“No, the overgrown pony told me to watch my mouth and not imply that she’s a fat broodmare.” Helene slung her arm around her rhys’s neck. “She knows I’d never say that, but you know mares—just like any woman they can tend towards bossiness, and that goes doubly for lead mares.” 

“If the Goddess blessed you with a baby, I’m sure Elsabeth would be first in line to care for it. She was just telling me the other day how much she prefers little girls over little boys—something about the mess and girls being less likely to unwittingly kill themselves,” Annalise said.  

Helene chuckled and shook her head as she worked her fingers into Brunen’s wind-knotted mane. “Elsabeth is a good nanny, but she’s already accounted for—I’m sending her with you to Rhinnea.” 

Annalise took a step back at the news, her questions about Muranan succession forgotten. “You’re what? You can’t. I…I already have a lady’s maid.” 

“I know; the fact that you only have one maid, and a young one at that, is shameful. It wouldn’t be amiss for a princess of your standing to have a gaggle of servants at your beck and call, especially for the airs your father likes to give himself.” 

“Elsabeth’s family and her entire life are here. I’m not comfortable pulling her away from home.” 

“Annalise, you’re not forcing her to go anywhere. If it helps, Elsabeth came to me weeks ago and asked that I release her from my service so that she can serve you.” 

“She did? Why would she do that?” Annalise asked, her head reeling at the news. In the time she’d spent in Orighet, Elsabeth had performed her duties as a maidservant with remarkable spirit and competency. She’d anticipated Annalise’s needs well before Annalise was even aware she needed something, but Annalise had always assumed that the older woman’s cheerful demeanor was more of a professional courtesy than because she actually cared. 

“Did she tell you about your mother?” 

“Yes, she did.” Annalise nodded as she thought back to the first day when Elsabeth revealed that she’d been Elvira’s lady’s maid, and that King Evert had forced her out of Dovea after the queen’s death. “She didn’t go into much detail, or, I guess I should say that for Elsabeth, she didn’t go into detail. You know how she is.” 

“That I do. I’m sure that half the castle will think it very empty without her larger-than-life personality, and the other half will be grateful for a break from the chatter.” Helene withdrew a dagger from her boot to slice through a difficult knot in Brunen’s mane. “I know we’ve talked off and on about my sister since you came to us, and I wish we had more time, but perhaps even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to work through the sorrow in my heart. I always thought that if I ever got the chance to meet my grown niece, I’d tell her everything… but now that I look at you, at the beautiful woman you’ve become, when I see your face I see Elvira smiling back at me.” Helene wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Forgive me, but I loved your mother dearly, and I know she loved you.” 

The air was bone-chilling cold, but the furs and wool kept Annalise warm even as a stiff wind from the overlook blew around them. “Then why did she curse me? If she loved me so much, why am I like this now?” try as she might, Annalise couldn’t stop her voice from cracking as sorrow welled up in her chest.

“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like she wasn’t trying to curse you—she was trying to curse your father, and that in his cowardice he pulled you into the crossfire. This was what I’ve tried to find the courage to tell you, dear girl. Our people can use magic, but only under extreme duress or in the most emotional of circumstances. Most go their entire life without ever unlocking that part of themselves, and many wish they never had to. I believe that the night of your little brother’s birth—Goddess bless him for his time in the world cut so short—when Evert killed your mother’s physician the unnecessary and unexpected bloodshed combined with his abuse, her illness, and the heartbreak at losing another child, might have created such a moment. The words she said, words of power in the Old Tongue spoken in righteous anger, were meant to curse him. How could she have known that he’d risk your life, the life of his only child and heir? No mother would expect her husband to do such an evil thing. You mentioned once was that after you felt the curse take effect she spent the rest of the night singing to you, is that correct?” 

Annalise nodded. As Helene had talked, she’d joined her aunt in tending to Brunen’s mane. Now, she didn’t trust herself to speak.

“I can’t be sure, and it may have simply been a mother’s love and aversion to watching her child in pain…but I think that her singing was an attempt to weave a blessing into her words; a way to change the curse, or to lessen it, before it could settle fully on you.” 

“What do you mean ‘settle’?” 

“I’m no mage or master scholar, but there is the occasional tale of a curse that doesn’t meet its intended target. Usually they’re meant as bedtime stories, as tales to keep unruly children in line, but what are such things if not events whose facts have been obscured by the passage of time? Your father certainly seemed to think something of it—by locking you in the room with your mother, he attempted to ensure that the curse stuck to you instead of him. So, the only other option was for Elvira to mitigate the effects as best she could. Who knows? Perhaps her mother’s love wove a blessing strong enough to prevent a worse curse from befalling you. Elvira was a good woman with a normally docile temperament, but we used to joke that when she got angry, the mountains themselves couldn’t contain her rage. I’m sure whatever she wished against your father was something truly terrible born out of years of abuse and fear for how he would treat you if something should happen to her.”

“Do you really think it was all a mistake?” Annalise whispered.  

“The curse, yes. The blessing, no. I am positive she knew what she was doing with that.” 

Annalise stared at Helene, waiting for her aunt to continue. 

After a long pause and several shaky breaths, Helene looked up at the sky and blinked rapidly, although one tear escaped and traced an icy pathway down her cheek before she could wipe it away. “The Old Tongue requires power to work, usually in the form of life force. When used, the words can put one in a state where magic is easier to sense. Elvira would have felt the energy for the blessing leave her body just as she felt the energy for the curse leave. Use of magic becomes easier with proximity, so for her to hold you close and soothe you until you fell asleep…” 

Annalise wiped her eyes on the shoulder of her cloak. Her hands in Brunen’s hair felt like the only thing keeping her tethered. She feared that if she removed them, her grief would sweep her away like an avalanche. “But she’d just been through a terrible ordeal with her stillbirth. She was greatly weakened. There was so much blood.” 

“She may have known that she didn’t have long… or she may have seen that fate put your life on the scale opposite hers, and made her choice.” Helene’s hands paused in working Brunen’s mane, and she sighed. It was a slow, heavy sound, as though her very heart was being rent in two. 

Suddenly overcome, Annalise hugged her aunt, buried her face in her fur cloak, and sobbed. Helene returned the hug, and Annalise heard her sniffle. The flurries of snow around them grew thicker until suddenly there was nothing. Annalise glanced up to see Brunen’s wing covering both her and Helene, and Brunen wrapped her head around them and huffed, as if to join in their grief. 

They rode back to the castle in silence on the shaggy Muranan horses, both Annalise and Helene caught up in their own private thoughts. 

Their return triggered a whirlwind of activity. The Dovean soldiers that had accompanied Soren to rescue Annalise still weren’t cleared to travel—of the few that had survived, many had suffered grievous injuries. To ensure the protection of her niece, Helene insisted on sending Captain Padrin and his soldiers with Soren and Annalise to protect them until they could meet up with the rest of their Dovean guard, who were now undoubtedly camped outside of Rea. 

Elsabeth was waiting for Annalise on the steps of the castle, a heavy gray woolen cloak around her shoulders. 

“Lady Telimary told me she was sending you with me,” Annalise said as she approached Elsabeth. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to come. I’ll be fine on my own, and I already have a lady’s maid waiting for me just outside of Rea.” 

Elsabeth’s lined face was pink with the cold, but there was no mistaking the fire in her eyes. “Only one lady’s maid and no mention of a footman or a housekeeper? Fie! It’s a disgrace, I tell you. Don’t you worry, Your Highness. I’m going with you, and that’s that,” she said with an air of finality as she crossed her arms against her ample bosom. 

Helene smiled as she joined them. “I told you she was stubborn, Annalise.” 

“What if my future husband, King Nelan, doesn’t approve?” 

“Then he’s a fool. As a princess, and soon to be a queen, you are well within your rights to have far more than two attendants. Elsabeth loved your mother like a sister, and it was a crime that your father sent her away.” Her aunt glanced between Annalise and something just past her shoulder. “And I would be remiss if I did not send you with a chaperone. The Rhinneans can be sticklers for such things, and with as delicate as the situation already is, I will not have them questioning your reputation.” 

Annalise turned to see Soren standing several feet away, discussing travel plans with Captain Padrin as they checked the legs of the horses in the company. “Is there to be no carriage?” she asked, noticing for the first time that there were only horses in the yard.

“I wasn’t planning on sending one. You are an excellent rider, and I made sure our stable master gave you the bravest and sturdiest of mounts. Would you prefer to spend the long days sitting in a stuffy carriage?” Helene asked. 

“It’s just not what I was expecting. Elsabeth, you’re okay without one?” Annalise asked. 

The old maid laughed. “Of course. Nothing quite like the fresh winter air to get the blood flowing and clear out the lungs, that’s what my old pa always said. I’m not some fancy lady who has so many things I require a wagon to move them all, either. As long as I’ve got my knitting needles and a few sentimental items, I’ll be happy, and I can fit all of those into a saddlebag.” 

“I’ve also given her enough money for a few new dresses and such when your party gets to Rea so you don’t have to worry about her comfort and wages while you get your feet under you,” Helene added quietly.  

Tears sprang to Annalise’s eyes, but she hurriedly wiped them away. “Yes, well, thank you, Lady Telimary. Thank you for your welcome here and your great generosity, and thank you for telling me about my mother,” she said stiffly, unsure of what else to say and falling back on the familiar grounds of etiquette. 

Helene smiled and took Annalise’s gloved hand in hers. “You are most welcome. It brings me great joy that the Goddess blessed me with the chance to meet you. You are a fine young woman, more than fit to be queen, and I look forward to the day when you either return to Murana for a visit, or when you invite me to your new castle.” 

“If I do then you’ll come without Brunen, isn’t that right?” 

Helene looked up at the sky and shaded her eyes, as if the mare in question was circling overhead. “Yes, most likely. She doesn’t like to leave this area, and as I’ve said before, we don’t advertise our mounts.” 

“Then I will have to come back and visit you here. Surely King Nelan won’t begrudge me a few weeks for strengthening the friendship between our two countries,” Annalise said with a hopeful smile. 

“I hope not.” Helene’s smile mirrored her own as she drew Annalise into a hug. “No matter where your path leads you, know that you have a safe place here. Murana may be a small kingdom, but we are a fierce people and our rhys are mighty. You are always welcome here, no matter under what circumstances, and every Muranan in the valley will defend you as if you are my own daughter. Promise me that you’ll never forget that,” Helene whispered in her ear.

Annalise squeezed her aunt back. “I won’t.”