The next two days were much like the first—Petrosian
soldiers and Temanite dignitaries crowding around Princess Cassandra and King
Josephus, gay laughter, feasting, and merry conversation all around.
Tired of sitting in her room, Bethany wished she could
spend time with Stephen and her bow, but he was constantly at the king’s side,
so that was out of the question. So she decided to spend the day in the library
where she might peruse a book or two in quiet solitude.
As she stepped silently on the soft carpet of the
library, she sniffed deeply of the dried parchments and leather bindings. If wisdom had a smell, this would be it.
One by one she read the titles of the books, feeling
grateful to Luan for spending a long, cold winter teaching her how to read.
“Hmm… Ancient Rivers…
no, too boring. Holy Mountains… I
already know all those. The Paths of the Sea…
I don’t think so. Creation and the Fall of Elyon…”
That one piqued her interest. But as she reached for it, her eyes fell upon the
military section.
“Effective Strategies for Use of the Tortoise… Sword-Making Techniques…
Training Horses for Combat… The
Calandrian Wars… Ooh, that would be
interesting.”
She had nearly decided on that one when another title
caught her eye. “The Teman-Rygian War. This is what I want.” She pulled
the book from the shelf.
Bethany remembered that when she was first taken to
Mount Avalee, the war between Teman and Rygia was in full force. But since
Mount Avalee was on the opposite end of the country and fairly sequested, it
was little affected, except for an increased demand for the sisters’ healing
potions and an increase in the number of orphan girls sent there.
News of the death of King James Eliada, Josephus’
father, had barely reached Mount Avalee when the announcement also came of the
cessation of fighting.
Since Bethany’s skill with a bow was her only source of
pride, she found the thought of battle actually excited her. But this war in
particular held another interest, for when she first arrived on Mount Avalee,
the dreams had started.
No, not dreams.
Nightmares. She dreamed of a darkness descending upon Rygia and stretching
through the pass into Teman. The nightmares troubled her sleep and later, her
waking hours as well. At first she had thought it was because of the war, but
after the war had ended, her dreams continued.
Finding a seat at a table near a candle lantern, she
laid the large book down and unhinged the clasp that held it shut. Opening to
the first page, she began to read silently.
The library door opened, startling her. Looking up, she
gasped. King Josephus entered with Princess Cassandra on his arm. Two of
Cassandra’s guards remained in the doorway.
Bethany leaned her head in her hand and pretended to
read, hoping she would go unnoticed.
“And this is our library,” Josephus said. “On these
shelves lay all the wisdom and knowledge we have accumulated over centuries.
What wasn’t destroyed during our Dark Time, that is.”
“Amazing.” Cassandra glided across the carpeted floor.
“So much knowledge. So much wisdom. We can surely benefit from a study here.”
“I look forward to adding to this library with
information from your own archives,” Josephus said. “I’m sure Petros has much
to offer, many experiences we can learn from.”
“Indeed. A mutual exchange of knowledge would be
advantageous in many ways.”
She spoke so sweetly, so perfectly, Bethany thought. She
walked with grace, not tripping over her gown. She held herself straight, not
slouching as Bethany sometimes did. Bethany straightened herself a bit at the
chair.
The princess spun about to face the king, her gown
creating a breeze of lavender scent. She clapped her hands and said, “Josephus!”
So they’re calling
each other by their first names already.
“I must tell you something,” Cassandra said. “One of the
reasons we wished to renew relations with you, the most important reason, in
fact, is to learn from you. All those generations of Caledronian rule have left
us bereft of the knowledge of Eloah. Many of our books were destroyed, and all
of our religious leaders were killed. We must recover that lost knowledge so we
can once again worship the true God as he should be worshiped.”
“Oh, Cassandra, this is the best news of all. I thought
your victory over Caledron was wonderful enough, but this brings more happiness
than ever. Teman would be delighted to help you regain your lost knowledge.”
“I knew you would be. I knew it the moment I looked into
your eyes.”
Bethany’s stomach turned, and she let out a groan.
Josephus said, “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize someone
was here.”
Of course not,
Bethany thought. I’m not worth noticing.
“Bethany? Is that you?”
“Ye… Yes,
Sire.” What do I do? Should I stand? Should I curtsey? What if I
trip? Dismayed, Bethany realized that even if she did know the proper
behavior, she could not have performed it for she was frozen to the chair.
Josephus stepped near, drawing Cassandra close as well.
“It is customary for women to curtsey before royal officials.”
By Elán! The king
had to correct me! His voice was gentle as he said it, but that he had to
say it at all horrified her. Blood crept into her cheeks.
She rose and made a hint at a curtsey, her gown threatening
to entrap her legs. Keeping her face lowered, she said, “Forgive me, Your
Majesty.”
Josephus said, “Princess Cassandra, this is Bethany. She
is one of our orphans from Mount Avalee, as I told you about.”
So I’m nothing
more than a common orphan to him. Is he making excuse for my behavior by
pointing that out?
“An orphan?” Cassandra said. “How delightful. Look at
me, child.”
“N… no, my lady, I dare
not.”
“Nonsense, I wish to look at your face.”
When Bethany did not respond, Josephus said quietly, “Do
as the princess requests, Bethany.”
Another rebuke from the king. Tears welled in Bethany’s
eyes, but she managed to do as she was told. Swallowing the walnut-sized lump
in her throat, she lifted her face. Rather than look into the princess’ eyes,
she focused her gaze on that graceful neck with silky soft skin and the
fragrance of lavender.
Bethany felt like a goat in a dress.
Cassandra leaned her head left and right, studying her.
“Yes, she is quite plain, but good looking for an orphan.” She touched the
braids gathered up on Bethany’s head, then fingered the pale blue gown she
wore. “Your sisters of Avalee knew how to make a lady from the basest of
creatures.”
It was all Bethany could do to keep from crying.
But then Cassandra said, “No, perhaps lady is a stretch. Young woman might do better. Yes, you might be a young woman, but
you certainly are no lady.”
Bethany hoped no one saw the tear squeezing out the
corner of her eye.
* * *
Josephus was about to tell Cassandra that in Teman,
nobility neither looked down on commoners nor rebuked them for their common
status. But before he could speak, Cassandra moved up to the table and peered
at the open book lying there.
“You can read? Does Teman make it a practice to teach
orphans and commoners to read? What are you reading?”
She closed the book and read the cover. “The Teman-Rygian War? Good heavens! Not
quite the thing a young woman should be reading. Perhaps a book on etiquette
would be better suited for you.”
Slipping her hand into the crook of Josephus’ arm, she ushered
him from the library.
As he stepped through the doorway, Josephus turned to
look at Bethany, concerned that she might have felt insulted. But both the book
and the girl had disappeared.
* * *
Bethany stood behind a row of shelves, quietly sliding
the book back into its place, never before having felt so miserable. First, the
king had to correct her—twice! Second, she now knew there was no
spanning the gulf that lay between her and the king—the princess of Petros had
made that clear.
Everything about Cassandra shouted, “Princess!” Her
presence only made Bethany feel more unworthy than ever. There wasn’t a noble
bone in her whole body.
Leaning her throbbing head against the books, she felt
her throat tighten and her chin quiver. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she
slunk down to the carpet, buried her head in her hands, and sobbed.
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