Sharon Shinn: Reader And Raelynx

Cammon was still thinking of Amalie. “Yes, but if she doesn’t want to be married-”

“Princesses don’t marry for love,” Senneth said. “They marry for political alliances. They marry coastlines and trade routes and standing armies. Amalie knows this.”

“ You got to marry for love,” he argued. “And serramarra are supposed to marry coastlines and all that, too. But you’re a serramarra and you married a King’s Rider-”

Senneth was laughing again. True, she was a serramarra-the daughter of a marlord-but she was hardly the most respectable example of the aristocracy. “Well, I’m different,” she said. “I’m a mystic, and the fate of Gillengaria does not depend upon my bloodlines. But Amalie will be queen-if we can keep her alive-and a great deal depends on her heirs. Therefore-”

“That’s who arrived yesterday, isn’t it?” Cammon said as the pieces suddenly came together. “Some prince from Sovenfeld, I suppose. Is the king going to marry her off to a foreign lord?”

Now Senneth was watching him from her wide gray eyes, keeping her face neutral. It did her no good to try to mask her expression, of course; he could read the astonishment behind the impassive look. “How did you pick up on that, I wonder?” she said. “Or did you see them ride in?”

He shrugged impatiently. “We talked about it last night. All of us had sensed someone coming into the city, but we couldn’t get the details.”

“That was an envoy from Karyndein, not Sovenfeld,” she said. “And not the prince himself, but a representative of the prince. I don’t think Baryn is seriously considering a groom from outside Gillengaria, though. He believes that a judicious marriage between Amalie and a local noble might be more likely to restore peace to the realm. Myself, I’m not sure that’s it. Baryn has never been one to look too far beyond his own borders, and I don’t think he wants to bestow Amalie’s hand on anyone who seems so strange.”

“I think he should ask Amalie who she wants to marry.”

Senneth grinned briefly. “The problem is not so much who Amalie would like to marry as who would like to marry Amalie,” she said. “Who can be trusted? Which serramar from which House does not have a secret agenda? The thought was that you could help us decide who is sincere and who is scheming.”

“ I can help you? How could I do that?”

“The king would like you to serve as an advisor to Amalie as she picks her husband.”

Cammon just stared at her mutely, and Senneth went off into peals of laughter.

“I’m sorry, but the look on your face-! I did manage to surprise you after all!”

“That’s not the kind of surprise I meant,” he defended himself. And then, “But what did you say? What do you mean?”

She sobered, mostly, but she was still smiling. “Your name came up as the king and I were discussing how best to conduct this-this-courtship of Amalie’s. And Baryn said, ‘How can we know which of these suitors can be trusted?’ And I thought of you. You will at least know who is lying and who is telling the truth when they kneel before her to offer their devotion.”

“So-what?-you want me to stand beside the princess when these serramar come calling? Won’t they think that’s strange?”

“The logistics aren’t all worked out yet,” Senneth admitted. “But the king wants you to come to the palace tomorrow. There’s to be a luncheon for our guest from Karyndein.”

Cammon raised his eyebrows. “I won’t be able to tell much about him .”

She nodded. “I know. I told Baryn that. But since he’s here…” She shrugged. “Can you be at the palace tomorrow by ten in the morning?”

“It will be nice to see Amalie again,” he remarked.

Senneth just looked at him a moment, and this time she was more successful at hiding her thoughts. “I don’t know how much time you will actually spend with the princess,” she said at last. “And you know it was different last summer, when we all traveled together. She was quite open with you then, but now-Cammon, I know you think every person was put in this land just to be your friend, but Amalie’s different. You’re a nameless mystic and she’s going to be queen. You’ll have to show her a little reserve-if you’re actually capable of that.”

Her expression was kind, if rueful, and he didn’t take offense. Indeed, he knew she was right. It was hard for him to understand distinctions of rank and class, especially when, as far as he could tell by the emotions that bubbled up from them, all people were pretty much the same. “All right. I won’t speak to her unless she speaks to me, and then I’ll just be civil and distant.”

“That would be best. So we’ll see you tomorrow? Come find me, and I’ll take you to the king.”

That ended their private conference, and they returned to the kitchen for dessert and more conversation. Senneth left shortly afterward, and Cammon informed Jerril he would not be available for lessons the following day-and perhaps for many days to come. He had been invited to the palace to serve the princess, to whom he would not speak.

But later that night, as he lay awake thinking over the day’s events, Cammon found himself hoping that Amalie did remember him and did offer him at least a remote and formal friendship. He had been one of her favorites last summer, as her whole retinue crisscrossed Gillengaria making stops on the social circuit. It wasn’t like they had ever had a private conversation, for Queen Valri was always two steps away, and they were attended by the regent, four Riders, twenty royal soldiers, and a handful of other mystics. And yet Cammon had liked the princess. She was only a year younger than he was, pretty, with wide brown eyes and that shining hair, and a serious, thoughtful expression that could turn in a moment to an almost childlike delight.

Her life, he knew, had been circumscribed and strange. Until last year, she had almost never been seen outside the palace, for the king feared attempts on her life and had kept her closely sheltered. It was hard, even for Cammon, to tell how she felt about that-she was oddly hard to read, almost as if she were a visitor from overseas and impenetrable to his particular magic. Like everyone else, he had to judge her interior emotions by the expressions she chose to show outwardly, and he had concluded that she was interested in everything, afraid of very little, pleased at small attentions, and wary about the world in general. And lonely.

It was the loneliness that called to him most. More than once he had seen a look on her face that reminded him of one he had seen in his own mirror. She had enjoyed herself last summer, surrounded by attendants, fawned over by titled lords and ladies, moving from breakfast to formal dinner to dress ball to breakfast with no apparent weariness. She had seemed to love all the activity, all the commotion.

She had seemed wistful anytime she thought the season might end.

He had wondered, now and then, how she amused herself once she was back at the palace. He had not seen her since their return about six months ago. Senneth was wrong-he did realize he could not just presume on a casual acquaintance with royalty-he had made no effort to continue that careless friendship of the road. But he had thought about her. He had wondered if she was lonely again. He had wondered where she might have made friends within the palace, and with whom. He hated to think of her feeling lost and abandoned and solitary and sad.

ITtook Cammon about an hour to walk from Jerril’s house to the palace. It was cold, of course, but sunny, for a wonder, and he enjoyed the brisk exercise.