Remnant of Power

Chapter Fifteen

Yavenna

Someone knocked softly at the door. Yavenna opened her eyes and remembered that in a few days she would be waking up next to King Ulric. A violent shudder ran through her, and sudden nausea made her stomach roll.

Sharva entered the bedroom with a glass of orange juice, and Yavenna leapt to grab it, spilling some of the liquid on a beautiful rose-patterned rug. The Princess poured the drink down her throat. "Must eat or I'll be sick," she spluttered to Sharva.

"There is a plate of pastries in the sitting room, Mistress."

Yavenna staggered into the sitting room, clutching her stomach, and, spying an almond tart, snaffled into her mouth like a hungry dog.

Sharva appeared in the doorway of the two rooms, tutting. "Mistress, you will have to be more ladylike when you are married to the King."

Yavenna wiped her mouth. There was no point in trying to explain to Sharva that it was the idea of the marriage that had caused her to be unladylike.

"Anyway, Mistress, the reason I woke you is that the King has asked to see you. Apparently, he's in a hurry to leave. You need to get dressed quickly, and bathe when you get back here."

Yavenna grabbed another almond tart, and began to untie the front of her nightdress.

**

The King stood up as Yavenna entered his study. Yavenna gasped in shock, hurriedly turning it into a sneeze. The King wasn't wearing the mask. A deep scar ran across his face, from above his left eyebrow to the top of his lip. He looked younger than she expected, but his beard and hair were still greasy, and he was wearing the same dirty doublet, now heavily stained. Yavenna tasted sour almonds. At the table where he was sitting was a tray of diamonds. Yavenna had heard him running his fingers through them as she waited outside. He dropped a handful into the tray as he began to speak.

"My dear Princess, I may not see you this evening at dinner, but I wanted to tell you that I've changed the date for our wedding. I've decided that there's no need for a rehearsal, we should marry as soon as possible. I am anxious not to delay the wedding any longer, so we can marry a day earlier – that means in three days' time now." His eyes wandered over her form. She'd made Sharva give her the plainest dress she could find, but even so, she knew she still looked beautiful. Perhaps she'd see if she could find an old sack somewhere to put on when she next saw him.

Yavenna trying desperately to keep her eyes off the wardrobe, looked at him with a blank face, "The uniting of our kingdoms will be a momentous occasion."

There was a loud knock on the door. The King cleared his throat and a tight frown crossed his forehead. He waved to a footman who rushed to the door and opened it. Lord Rassten walked in, his face flushed, breathing heavily.

"Your Majesty, I have just received news . . . A messenger has arrived . . ." The King held up his hand to stop the Grand Vizier. He turned and bowed to Yavenna.

"Have you everything you need for the wedding, my dear one?"

Yavenna stared at him. What would she need? "Er...yes, Your Majesty."

"I think the time has come to call me Ulric, dear one." The King sauntered up to her, and took her hand. He kissed her fingers, then her wrist, then kissed her once again lingeringly on her arm, in the crook of her elbow.

The words of her father's letter reverberated in her ear, "Make sure you give him an heir as soon as you can." Do not flinch, she commanded herself, forcing herself not to snatch her arm away. He started to speak, still holding one hand tightly.

"Dear Yavenna, I wish we could spend our days together even before we're married," he laughed and reached out a hand to touch the length of her hair, "but we know that would be most unseemly. I will be counting down the hours till we marry in three days' time." He stopped talking, and kissed her arm again, very slowly. Then he held her palm to his mouth and caressed her skin with his lips. Yavenna was so filled with revulsion that she wanted to snatch her hand back from him, and run screaming out of the room. She forced herself not to move, and breathed deeply to calm herself, smelling a faint sickly mint scent that she'd noticed about him before.

"Three days," he murmured. Yavenna gritted her teeth together under her lips, but still managed to force a smile.

"Your Majesty is a most magnificent King; I will be deeply honoured to be your consort." Urgh! She kept a fixed smile on her face the whole time he slobbered on her, and until the footman had closed the door behind her. The instant it was shut she rubbed her arm up and down her dress, until every scrap of his kiss was wiped clean. Then she let herself shiver, revulsion flowing over her like thick mud. But she stayed outside the door, pretending to fiddle with her indigo slipper as the footman walked ahead. She could just about hear what they were saying inside the room.

"I don't want to hear that you haven't found him," the King rasped in his deep voice, "I need you to tell me that you've found him and you've dealt with him."

"But Sire," she heard Lord Rassten say, "We need to send more troops out looking for him. He's being helped, that much is evident."

"I will not leave Gelenburg unguarded, Rassten, we must keep a strong force here. And there are still leagues and leagues of Arvad yet to be excavated, let alone Tarhasta. He is getting more impatient. You know what that could mean. And we must find it soon; I want it for myself, as well as for Him. The last thing I need is trouble with that boy. I have enough to think about at the moment. Find him, Rassten, and quickly. You may go."

Yavenna stepped away from the door with a start. Tarhasta! He'd mentioned Tarhasta! Instantly, she thought of what she'd seen written on the scroll last night. She needed to read it. And soon.

Whatever did the King mean "let alone Tarhasta"? Why were they excavating Arvad, and who was getting impatient? What did the King want? And who was it they were looking for? Did it have anything at all to do with the speed of her marriage? She walked down the corridor away from the footman. Thank goodness, she was wearing a dark dress. She found a shadowy alcove and flattened herself against the wall. Since she was a child she'd known how good she was at hiding.

She heard the door close and listened, heart in her throat, but only the Grand Vizier came out of the room. A minute later she heard him stomp away in the other direction.

She crept back to her suite, trying to think, her mind a swirl of emotion. What on earth was going on in this land? If the King had so many secrets wasn't it more likely that it was her father who was telling the truth about the speed of the marriage?

By the time she arrived back in her suite, she hadn't sorted her thoughts out. Sharva was hanging her clothes. There had been too many to unpack all in one day, and some of them still needed a good iron.

"Sharva, you won't believe what I have just overheard. The King was talking about excavating Arvad, and then he mentioned Tarhasta! What on earth is going on? And then he said he needed to get a move on because someone was getting impatient! I didn't want to marry him anyway, but with all this strangeness and secrecy it just confirms my decision." She paced up and down the room, twisting a bangle between her hands, then stopped and eyed her maid.

Sharva walked over to her, arms out towards her. "Highness, calm yourself. I'm sure you've misheard something. Don't get yourself in a panic, now. You know the men we saw digging on the way;

"Slaves, you mean..." Yavenna interrupted.

Sharva carried on as if the Princess hadn't spoken, "...some of those crops will be going to Tarhasta. They're the answer to our prayers. And you know, Mistress, this marriage is the best thing for you. If there's a problem with Tarhasta you can influence the King when you're married, can't you?" Her voice rose very slightly as she spoke. "You mustn't think about running away. That would be devastating for the trade agreement, and our people desperately need more food to store up for when the plague strikes. Sit down, Mistress, sit down next to me. It'll help you to calm down."

Yavenna took a deep breath, and brushed her hair away from her forehead. Yes, Sharva was right, she did need to calm down, but not calm down to accept her fate. She had to calm down so she could find out what was going on, and then plan her escape. There must be some way out. Whatever it was, she had to find it.