Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Is it true?” he asked, staring as if he’d never seen her before. “You carry my child?”

Our child! Nalia thought, but she smiled demurely and pressed a hand to her still-flat belly. “I do, my lord. By all the signs, I’m nearly two months gone. The child will be born in the spring.”

“Oh, that’s wondrous news!” Korin fell to his knees at her feet and put his hand over hers. “The drysians will watch over you. You’ll want for nothing. You have only to ask and it’s yours!”

Nalia stared down at him in amazement. He’d never spoken to her like this before—like she really was his wife. “Thank you, my lord. I would like more than anything to have more freedom. I’m so confined here. Couldn’t I have a proper room down in the fortress?”

He nearly balked at that, but she’d chosen her moment well. “Of course. You’ll have the brightest, most cheerful room in this benighted place. I’ll have painters in to decorate it to your taste, and new tapestries—Oh, and I brought you this.”

He took a silken pouch from his sleeve and laid it in her lap. Nalia untied the silk drawstring and a long strand of lustrous sea pearls cascaded out into her lap. “Thank you, my lord. They’ve very pretty!”

“They’re said to bring luck to pregnant women and to keep the child safe in the waters of the womb. Wear them for me, won’t you?”

A shadow fell across Nalia’s heart as she dutifully put on the necklace. The pearls were beautiful, with a lovely pink luster, but the necklace was a talisman, not an ornament. “I will wear them, as you say, my lord. Thank you.”

Korin smiled at her again. “My first wife craved plums and salted fish when she was pregnant. Have you had any urges? Can I send for anything special that you don’t have?”

“Only more room to walk around,” Nalia said, pressing her advantage.

“You shall have it, as soon as a room is prepared.” He took her hands in his. “You won’t always be shut up in this dreary place, I promise you. I march on Prince Tobin soon, to reclaim my city and my land. Our children will play in the gardens of the Palatine.”

Ero! Nalia had always longed to go there, but Niryn would never hear of it. To see a great city at last, to be consort there … “That will be very nice, my lord.”

“Have you swung the ring yet?”

“No, we thought you’d want to see, Majesty,” Tomara lied, giving Nalia another wink. Of course they had, the moment Tomara had guessed that she’d kindled.

Pretending ignorance, Nalia lay back in her chair and handed Tomara the ring Korin had given her on their wedding day. Tomara took a length of red thread from her apron pocket and hung the ring on it, then dangled it over Nalia’s lap. After a moment the ring began to move in tiny circles. These early motions meant nothing. If the midwife were a proper dowser, the ring would begin to swing back and forth for a boy child, or go in greater circles for a girl.

The ring made wide circles over her belly, just as it had the first time.

“A daughter for sure, Majesty,” Tomara assured him.

“A girl. A little queen! That’s good.” His smile faltered a little as he placed the ring back on her finger.

He’s worried that she’ll look like me . Nalia pushed the hurtful thought away and squeezed his hand. She couldn’t blame him, she supposed. Perhaps the child would favor him instead. His coloring would make for a pretty girl.

Korin surprised her again, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. “Perhaps you can forgive me the difficult beginning we’ve had? With a child, and the throne secure, I will try to be a better husband to you. I swear by Dalna.”

She had no words to describe how his kindness affected her, so she kissed his hand. “I will be a good mother to our children, my lord.”

Perhaps , she thought, I can come to love him, after all .

Ki hadn’t been sorry to leave Afra. Far from helping Tamír, the Oracle seemed to have left her more troubled than ever. She was very quiet as they set out, and the treacherous going required too much attention for long conversations. Still, Ki sensed the deep sadness she carried.

He knew he couldn’t lay all the blame on the Oracle. He’d failed her badly in his own clumsy way and left them both wounded. Wrapped alone in his blankets each night, he dreamed of their disastrous kisses and woke feeling tired and guilty.

On those rare occasions when his dream self managed to enjoy the kiss, he woke feeling even more confused. On those mornings, as he watched her washing her face in a stream and combing out her hair, he wished more than ever that things had stayed the same between them as when they were children together. There had been no shadow, no doubt between them. He could look at Tobin or touch him without all this turmoil inside. He didn’t doubt the love between them, but it wasn’t the kind of love Tamír wanted or deserved.

He kept all this locked away in his heart, knowing that she needed him strong and clearheaded, not moping around like some poetry-reading courtier. Despite his best efforts, the others had heard enough that night in the guesthouse to make them worry. No one asked Ki anything directly, but he often caught them watching him and Tamír.

Arkoniel was nearly as much a mystery as Tamír. No doubt he was still unhappy about Iya’s banishment, yet he and Tamír seemed on closer terms than they had been in months. He rode beside her every day, talking of his wizards and their magic, and of the new capital Tamír was planning. She’d mentioned her dreams of a place on the western coast to Ki before, but something in her visions at Afra had caught her imagination and Arkoniel seemed eager to foster such plans, despite the obvious impediments.

Ki didn’t care about the difficulties. He only knew that the sadness left her eyes when she spoke of it, planning ways to make it a grander place than Ero. She got the same look she used to while working on some new design for a ring or breastplate. She was always happiest when planning a new creation.

Arkoniel had traveled a great deal, and spoke of sewers and drainage as readily as he talked of magic. Saruel told her of Aurënfaie cities, and the innovations they used for ventilation and heat. The ’faie seemed particularly good at anything related to bathing. They devoted whole chambers to it, with channels for heated water and special raised tile floors that could be heated from underneath. Some of the larger houses had bathing pools large enough for a whole crowd to linger in. Apparently business was even conducted there.

“It sounds like your people spend more time bathing than anything else,” Una noted with a grin.

“More than Skalans, certainly,” Saruel replied wryly. “It’s not only hygienic, but good for the spirit. When taken together with massage and the proper herbs, it is very healing, as well. In my experience, the ’faie not only smell better, but are a healthier people.”

Nikides chuckled at that. “Are you saying that we stink?”

“I am merely stating a fact. When you come to build this new city of yours, Tamír, you might find it beneficial to provide proper bathing facilities for all, not only for your privileged classes. Send your builders to Bôkthersa to learn their methods. They are particularly good at such things.”

“I wouldn’t mind going there myself, if all of them look like that Solun and his cousin!” Una murmured, and more than one among the Companions nodded.

“Ah, yes.” Saruel smiled. “Even among the ’faie, they are considered particularly beautiful.”

“I’ll have to make a point of visiting there,” Tamír said with a little smile. “To learn of the baths, of course.”