One of Telbarisk’s new realizations while he stayed in Eri Ranvel was that rumors were a powerful thing while essentially being nothing. They were words, breath and sound that created an idea. Still, he knew the power that these weightless, heavy things could have. It was the reason why his brother paced his new home in the mountains far from Nourabrikot in impotent frustration.

The household staff of Dilvestrar assumed he was dim-witted and unable to speak or understand Arvonnese. He knew that because he had no obligations as the Ervaskin Ambassador and often sat in places to watch, and to listen to, people. The palace workers were liberal in their gossip, especially the maids. It was thought by some that Alpine was stealing things, but no one had found anything in his room, so it was usually dismissed with some chiding of the speaker. There were some thoughts on where their king had been all these years, but surprisingly they didn’t speak much about him. No, the focus of the rumors was squarely on Anladet.

They knew she was half-elven. While the papers had focused more on her Arvonnese lineage, they had let it “slip” in an article that she had been born in western Ashven duchy, where the elves lived. She would be in the public eye constantly, therefore it had been considered pointless to try to cover up who her mother’s people were. But, this meant that speculation on her differences ran wild. Had she bewitched the king into marriage? Was she planning on taking over the throne? If so, what did she hope to gain by it?

Of course, Telbarisk knew the truth. He knew that Caudin would bloody his arm if Anladet ensorcelled him. He knew that she really had no aspirations to the throne and would have preferred they lived quietly in Aviz. She gained nothing by being the queen. In fact, she was slowly losing quite a bit.

Caudin tried to invite Telbarisk and Alpine to private meals in their apartments whenever possible. In a strange way, it felt like older times in Gheny, when they picked whatever restaurant they wished to dine and enjoyed each others company. He attended whenever asked. Sometimes Alpine did as well, and sometimes Caudin wasn’t able to attend after something arose. Anladet was always there and Telbarisk always watched her, just as he watched everyone else. She was becoming rigid, overly pleasing, and falsely happy. Her smiles were tight, the kind she plastered on her face when she was upset but wanted others to think she was fine.

It was after a few dinners that Telbarisk uncomfortably spoke with Caudin about this. The springtime air was comfortable, making it ideal for taking dinners on the balcony that overlooked the garden courtyard. Alpine was still busy with some planning and Anladet was getting dressed for an event they had that evening and would join them late. “It’s just us for now,” Caudin said, fanning out his napkin. He disliked being waited on during these meals, save having the food served, so they weren’t bothered. “How is everything?”

“I’m still quite happy,” he said. “The gardeners have been kind in letting me sleep outside and have even started to make me a private area with hedges and trees overgrowing, like a cave.”

Caudin’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “If you need anything else, let me know. I can’t make it snow for you, but I can have them move rocks and moss to your area.”

“Thank you,” he said. He picked at his meal for a few minutes before asking, “How is Anladet?”

“Fine, I believe. Why?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“It is a strange position for her. I often wonder if she’s growing into her place, like you have, or if the position is bearing down.”

“She seems happy when I’ve spoken to her. Is there something I’m missing?”

“The servants speak of her often when cleaning or cooking. They wonder if she’s casting spells, or if she’s bewitched you into marrying her.”

Caudin’s mouth crooked up in the corner. “They aren’t wrong about the latter, though it wasn’t magic. I might question it, too, if she hadn’t caught my eye while she was sleeping, but I was already enamored before she ever spoke to me.”

“Some of the things they say are unkind, such as stories about her people.”

“I can’t stop the servants from gossiping. Besides, Anla is too busy to hear them speak of her.” He took a bite of food and chewed for a few moments before setting his fork down. “Do you think she’s listening to the rumors later, with her magic?”

“I suspect it. I haven’t asked her yet. I was hoping you could stop it and she wouldn’t be trying so hard to pretend it doesn’t bother her.”

“I wish I could. If I forbade the servants from speaking as they wished, they would resent me for it. Perhaps it would remind them of the last regime. It would definitely drop morale and I need the country, even the most wretched busybody in this household, to feel safe enough to spend their money, so that others will get jobs and open businesses to handle the demand. Maybe if I thought it would work, I would, just to make my wife happy. But, it wouldn’t. They’d just be more careful where they spoke.”

Telbarisk nodded his head slowly, sadly. Caudin caught this and frowned. “What do you think I should do?”

“I don’t know. If there was a way for you to silence them, even for just a few days, I think you’d see an improvement in her mood.”

“I didn’t think there was a problem to begin with. What do you see that makes you feel she’s not happy?”

Telbarisk listed a few things, such as her hard smile and her terse, bland responses. “She has a sneaky, humorous look that she gives you that I know brings a smile to your face. I haven’t seen it in some time.”

Caudin pondered this, then frowned after a few moments. “You’re right. I’ve been too busy to realize it. Thank you for letting me know.”

And when Anladet arrived for dinner, Caudin saw that his friend was right. She sat prim and proper, ate dainty bites, and spoke in short sentences that gave her an air of vapidity. Caudin clicked his tongue, then said, “Ainle, would you like to go to Tamarinde with me in a few days? Duke Challe is having some difficulty retaking his seat and requested I lend him some help. I think we can repay his favor of escorting us through the region.”

Her eyes lit up, but she asked, “Would that be all right? You still have so much to do here.”

“We have so much to do,” he corrected, “and it will have to be all right. Al will stay and make decisions on our behalf and we’ll push off what we can. Now is a better time, since most people are waiting for things to get better before they host parties.”

“Well, then,” she said, giving him a sly look, “I think we should.”

Caudin met Telbarisk’s gaze for just a brief moment, but he could tell things were headed in a good direction.

* * *

It took a few days of negotiation. It was a terrible time. The logistics were too difficult. There was far too much to do. It was dangerous. Caudin reminded his counselors and advisors that they had been working tirelessly since last fall and they needed a short break. This would look well for the monarchy. It would show they cared for their subjects and would bring stability to a sorely needed area. When that persuasion didn’t work, he crossed his arms and told them to make it work.

The retinue would be small. They found a sleeper coach and enough horses to trade out as well as a team and guards and provisions. Caudin vaguely remembered some hundred people accompanying him and his family when they went to the beach. They were bringing about forty.

It was a few days after their real wedding anniversary that Caudin and Anla left for Tamarinde. Even with the constant travel, it would take them five days to reach Alosreal, where the duchy seat of Castle Nauvrige sat on a cliff overlooking the busy town. That latter was a great sign; a busy town was a productive one. They had seen lumberjacks hauling timber into town and several merchants on the road as well as some curious cairns.

“What do those represent?” she asked Caudin, who looked up from his paperwork. She pointed to two stacks of rocks joined on the top by one longer, flat rock on top of a tree stump.

“Ah, those are fairy houses. When they take wood from the forest, they leave those should the fairies be displaced. They hold to their customs here a little stronger than most places in Arvonne.”

“Are there actual fairies?”

“Likely not, but don’t tell the people that. In one of his rare mistakes, my brother wound up arguing with some boys in Alosreal over the fairies’ validity and wound up having to apologize to the gathering crowd. My father explained that it was better to accept their beliefs as harmless than break their customs, especially since they still worshiped the Twelve and were good subjects.”

“Sakilei said there were fairies out west where he grew up. He wasn’t lying.” She rested her chin on her fist as she continued to look. “I wonder what it would have been like to visit western Gheny.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

She turned to look at him. “I’m not bothered, ainler.”

He scooted next to her and tipped her chin up. “There are times when you seem happy and times when you are happy. You’ve only seemed happy lately.”

“Things are fine. I’m not-.”

“Honestly. Please.”

She sighed and turned to face him. “As the queen I have two responsibilities. If I keep you happy, I’ve fulfilled the first.”

“And the second is?”

“Bearing your children. I’m still without child and I know how important that task is.”

“Tch, it takes time.”

“That’s not what they…” She stopped.

“So, you have been listening to rumors.”

“I shouldn’t, I know, but they speak sense. We’ve been married for a year now. I know you stopped taking the tea when we landed in Kitstuar, which means we’ve had at least ten chances to conceive.”

“I stopped taking the tea when we took Dilvestrar.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking.

“I didn’t want to bring a child into the madness of a siege or being hunted down. When we took back the palace, it was the first time I felt it would be fine to be a father. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I also don’t know how long the tea takes to wear off. Either way, the blame is not on you but on me.” He put his arm around her and she moved closer. “It will happen. Don’t listen to what they say; gossipers know half as much as they think they do and say it with twice as much confidence as they should.”

The carriages stopped and the master groomsman addressed them after a few minutes. “Your Radiance, Your Highness, the road to Nauvrige is temporarily closed. They’ve had heavy rains in the area and there are trees blocking the way. Duke Challe sends his apologies and has had his men clearing the way since yesterday. There’s only a little more work, perhaps a few hours, before the way is cleared.”

“Tell him we will be in Alosreal until the road is ready and take a team of volunteers to help.”

“Very good, Sire.”

They quickly put on what was called their working circlets, plain crowns of silver leaves that fitted around the posterior lobe of the head instead of resting atop it. The groomsman opened the door and helped them each step onto a block he had put down.

There was already a small crowd of plainly dressed townsfolk gaping at the carriage line. Caudin took Anla’s hand and headed into the town, both of them smiling and nodding at the people. Anla gasped lightly and tugged Caudin over to table set outside a shop. There were several roughly hewn items, including several dolls with pointed ears. The older woman who was tending the store stopped whittling and took the pipe from her mouth.

Anla bent over to inspect the dolls, holding one up. “Grandmother, why do they look like this?” she asked the woman.

“They’re for the elves, dear. We place them in our windows and the elves take it as a sign of respect.” The woman pulled a pair of old, cracked spectacles from her pocket and put them on.

“How much for one?” Anla asked.

The woman’s face turned red and pulled her apron over her face, darting into the shop.

“I’m sorry,” Anla called after her.

A man chuckled from behind her and she turned. “I think she’s embarrassed, Your Highness. She didn’t know who you were and now she thinks she’s offended you.”

“Oh, I’m not offended,” she said. “I just wanted to buy one of her dolls. Grandmother! I’d like to buy this one, please.” She held up a doll to the darkened doorway of the shop.

A young woman came outside. “She said it’s yours, a gift.”

She turned to Caudin, who had an amused look on his face. He had once told her that some people found gift rejections unfathomably rude while others expected a begrudging back and forth. He pressed his thumb into his palm. She turned back to the shop. “I’m honored, but I insist on paying for it. How much does she charge?”

“Fifteen von,” the woman said before her skirts were clutched and she was dragged back.

“Well, I’ll pay twenty, then. Thank you, grandmother.” She took a small purse from a clerk, counted out the von, and placed them where the doll had stood. She held it up to inspect. While she couldn’t say it was a thing of great beauty, nor was it factual, it had a certain charm to it. This one had intricate detail on the loincloth the elf wore and even fine score marks that indicated hair. She handed it to one of her ladies-in-waiting. Though the crowd looked hungrily at the money on the table, no one touched it.

“May I ask Your Highness why she chose to buy one of our dolls?” the man from earlier asked.

She looked to Caudin again, who nodded quickly before they continued walking into the town. “I’m always curious how people view the elves. It’s always different. Our friend Telbarisk, who is a grivven, said his people got along with the elves. In Gheny it’s far different.”

“The elves are real?” a lady in the crowd asked.

“Oh, yes!” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “My mother was an elf. I grew up in an elven village in Gheny.”

The crowd softly muttered at this revelation. “Are they real here?” the same woman asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t met one, but perhaps they are still out there.”

The main road opened to many shops and side streets. Anla pointed out things that interested her, like the roof decorations or the tightly packed herb gardens that were starting to sprout. The man stepped forward finally and asked, “Your Radiance, may I ask what you’re doing here? Not that we aren’t blessed by your presence…”

“The Duke has asked us to visit,” he said. “The road is still blocked, so we thought we’d walk through your town in the meantime.”

“Ah, so the queen isn’t pointing out things that need to change?”

“Gods, no! She genuinely charmed by your ways.”

“Oh, well then…” he said, smiling. “That’s good.”

An older man came out a few minutes later after the man ran to get him. He struggled to keep his sash on the right way as he hustled to the group led by Caudin and Anladet. “Greetings, Your Radiance. We had no idea you would be here. My name is Camin Strokel and I’m the mayor of Alosreal. I’d like to welcome you and the queen to our humble place.” He finished with a bow.

“Thank you, Mayor Strokel. My wife and I were learning about your history and customs. We’d appreciate it if you could continue our education.”

And so he did for the greater part of two hours, covering everything the man could think of. Anla asked plenty of questions, and if she wasn’t genuinely interested in what he was saying, she did a wonderful job at faking it.

Finally, they received word that the road was clear of debris. They bid the townsfolk goodbye and returned to the carriages, which had a hard, but not difficult time of making it up the road to Nauvrige. The Duke was waiting for them at the gate and bowed deeply. “I am terribly sorry about the road and the delay, Your Radiance,” he said. “It seems it’s difficult finding good help around here.”

Caudin ignored the last comment. “It’s no concern, Your Grace. We spent time in Alosreal, learning about our subjects.”

“Ah, then you see why I have issues.” Caudin and Anla both gave puzzled looks at his comment. “Well, let’s get you comfortable and see to your things. You must want to rest after your long travels. Dinner will be served at six-thirty.”

There was a royal apartment set in the donjon, and as at her home in Dilvestrar, Anla put her belongings in her room but intended to sleep in Caudin’s bed. She changed into a white gown with metallic threads that would look lovely by the candlelight and handed her day clothes to her ladies to brush out. It was strange how easily the comforts of royalty came to her now.

Dinner was impressive: roast lamb and suckling pig, desserts with fresh fruit and chocolate, several soups, including one with vegetables that weren’t yet in season. The conversation was light and witty, though not very deep. That came during the after-dinner brandy.

They retired to the Duke’s drawing room, a confused look on his face as Anla followed them. “Your Highness, my wife is dead these past four years, but I do have a daughter about your age. If you’d like I could call her to keep you company or…”

“You called on us to help you with your issues,” Caudin said. “My wife is quite intelligent and insightful. She will be an asset to our meeting.”

Anla beamed at him and followed the group into the room.

They sat and listened as Duke Challe explained the situation. “I understand that they’re mad at me. As The Sparrow, I was part of the problem, not of the solution. I stole from my people, I kidnapped them, I’m sure I even killed some of them. I am sorry for that. But, now I am here as their rightful leader and they are showing me contempt instead of respect.”

“My father always reminded me that respect is something earned, not freely gained,” Caudin said.

“Yes, yes, for the peasants I’m sure it’s that way,” he said, gesturing with his brandy snifter, “but I am their duke. You said yourself that everyone must do their part to turn this country around.”

“And what has been your part?” Anla asked, very carefully using an interested tone.

“It’s only been three months. Taxes haven’t been collected. It’s hard to do much when you have no money.”

“Your grounds are well cared for. The gardens are as good as the townsfolk’s.”

“I’ve hired some people to clean up the place, to help stimulate the economy.”

“And what have you paid them with?” Caudin asked.

“Well, when we get the taxes in, they will be paid.”

“And how does that help them now?”

“It will, it will…”

Caudin cleared his throat. “I don’t think you understood what I meant by ‘wading into our baths’ at the Convocation of the Peerage. We can’t return things to the way they were overnight. You can’t fix your castle in a year and expect our subjects to be pleased at where their taxes are going.”

Duke Challe leaned forward in his chair. “So, we starve and they get everything? We are due our riches! We are god-blooded and they are not!”

Caudin frowned and shook his head. “Challe, our blood gets us nothing without our people. I know you had a hard time. I know you wish for what you feel is owed. I’m asking you to strike a balance with what you need and what you want. Somewhere in there is a place where your people don’t starve and you still get some boons to your position.”

He scoffed. “This is all easy for you. Dilvestrar is gleaming and full of servants.”

“We’ve only hired as many as we thought necessary. There are still several wings that are closed off until we can afford to open them. I believe we’re operating at fifty-five percent, as the head of my household recently told me. And our meals do not include tomatoes and strawberries out of season.”

Caudin took a sip. “What have you been doing to improve your people?”

“You saw the lumber, yes? We’re trading with Mielsa.”

Caudin soured at this news. “I applaud the effort, but I wouldn’t rely on that in the long term.”

“Why not?” Duke Challe asked.

“I have greater obstacles at the moment, but soon I will have to expel Sayen from our lands.”

“I see. I will try to diversify, then.”

“What of the craftsmen in Alosreal?” Anla asked. “I noticed your sub- our subjects- are quite deft and detailed with their ability in woodwork.”

“No one wants to buy carvings of bears and roof ornaments.”

“We do. I bought one of those dolls that looks like an elf.”

“Why?” he asked, slouching back in his seat.

“Because it’s the first thing in this country that’s felt like home.”

Caudin raised his eyebrows lightly and gave her a considering look. He turned back to Duke Challe after a sip of brandy. “We’d be more than happy to buy a larger, multi-worker piece for our gardens in Dilvestrar.”

“Or,” Anla said, “we could fashion a guest room into one of this region. Wouldn’t that be lovely, a hand-carved bed with décor from Tamarinde?”

Duke Challe snorted. “I don’t see what you two see, but it’s your money.”

“You’re never going to earn respect if you don’t respect the people in return,” Caudin said. “Stop looking at your people in terms of needs and understand the wants.”

“Nobody wants anything now! We’re still crushed under the foot of the Kalronists, even if they’re gone. And I’m still stuck with people who hate me because I survived when they stuck to their principles and died.”

Caudin frowned and said nothing for a minute, swirling his brandy. Finally, he said, “This is worse than I thought. Challe, we share the same great-grandfather and you are my cousin. I have so few members of my family left that I treasure them. But you are shaming me right now. You have much to repent to your people and in return you demand they adore you and give you things. This is not how this will work.

“Tomorrow, you will accompany us into Alosreal and see who your people are. You will listen and you will change. I am not above finding a better suited replacement to rule this duchy and moving you to a land starved of good people and leadership.”

“You wouldn’t! How dare you threaten me, in my own-”

“You forget yourself!” Caudin said, standing abruptly. “I am in your manse because I have allowed the aristocracy to return! By my leave, not yours! These are my lands and you are wasting them with greed and impudence.”

He took a moment as he watched the Duke, a surly expression still on his face. “We cannot rise too fast. It will break us if we do. And if we squeeze the people we are no better than what we just tore down. For a time our dukes will live as marquesses, our marquesses as counts, and so on through all of our aristocracy as if our place hangs on thin thread. Because it does. So, we will go down to the town tomorrow and you will remember that those people have held on through the toughest eighteen years our country has ever known. You will learn about their strengths and you will use them, just as I will use you to help repair this country.” He set his brandy snifter down and offered his hand to Anla. “We are retiring early this evening.”

If he had thought his speech would have any impact on his cousin, Caudin was disappointed when they met in the morning. Decorum forced Duke Challe to be polite, but he was obviously chafing against demands. He only spoke when spoken to and took a separate carriage down to the town.

Spirits were not high when Caudin and Anla stepped out and she had to force some of the enthusiasm that had come naturally. She waved at the crowd gathering again, who seemed to squint in suspicion at Duke Challe’s presence. The mayor met with them again, his smile tight when greeting his duke, but very pleased to hear about their commission. “Your Radiances, I will make sure to find the best woodworkers in Tamarinde to plan and create a masterful piece for you.”

As they walked, some of the townsfolk came to visit or to give gifts to their rulers. The woman from yesterday’s daughter rushed forward, curtseyed low, and pressed an intricate carving into Anla’s hand. “From my mother, Your Radiance. She said this is for conceiving healthy, strong boys and for a safe delivery.”

“Tell her I said thank you and that I am honored by this treasure.” She smiled, but it slipped from her face quickly. It was hard not to hear the echoes of the murmured conversations of the servants who made their bed in Dilvestrar and their comments about her skinniness, her heritage, and the whispers that Caudin’s eyes, and hands, had already strayed. A piece of their gossip must be true, they said, and that’s why Arvonne had no heirs. It didn’t matter that Caudin had set the story straight or that she’d ignored all the rumors in Mount Kalista. This was different.

They said their goodbyes and a stiff farewell to Duke Challe, who left almost insultingly quick after they shook hands. The entourage prepared for the trek back to Dilvestrar and Caudin had a few moments alone with his wife outside their carriage. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, ainle.”

“You’re right, I do. It’s something I must learn to control.”

“It will take time, but please don’t be hard on yourself. I know you’re trying and I am as well.”

He leaned down to kiss her and she smiled as they looked at each other. The shove to the ground came so suddenly, she wasn’t coherent until she saw Caudin running into the woods as fast as he could. She blinked and accepted a groomsman’s hand as she stood, a crossbow bolt imbedded into the carriage where her torso had been. She searched into the woods off the road. Another bolt went wild, soaring over the carriage’s roof and she relaxed a little. She turned and realized the whole entourage was watching. “Behind the carriage!” she said, moving them back in case another bolt was loosed.

Several guards and Caudin emerged from the brush a few minutes later. Other than a bloody lip, Caudin was unscathed. He took off his jacket that was covered in dirt smudges, and handed it to his dresser. He hugged his wife as the man and his crossbow were dragged out. “Care to lend an ear while we ask this man a few questions?” he murmured into her ear.

“Of course,” she said.

He bent down in front of the man, short-bearded and dark blond, bleeding and bruised. His hands were cuffed to the outside of the wheels, stretched a little as he wasn’t a very tall man. “Whose man are you?” Caudin asked.

The would-be assassin looked up with dazed eyes. He had been knocked senseless and he was barely conscious. Anla knelt down and his gaze drifted from her eyes to elsewhere, not locking onto anything. “You should tell us your name,” she said.

His head rolled back and forth a few times, but he said nothing. Anla whispered, “He doesn’t want to speak.”

“Or…or he doesn’t understand. That would means he’s foreign.” His face had already clouded by the time he finished his thought. “Svre cauli afrou pintous?” he asked.

“Mre Vinkep As’is Onplai,” he mumbled. Caudin let out a hiss, but continued to ask questions that were answered by the contused man. Caudin stood and brushed himself off, calling his head guard over, who stumbled into a kneel and begged forgiveness.

“Forgiven,” Caudin said without much thought. “We have a situation. This man is part of the Network. He needs to be locked up, but we have several days’ travel ahead of us. He will likely escape any restraints we can put him in.”

“The Network, Your Radiance?”

“Yes.”

“I see. We could execute him, Sire.”

“I won’t do that. He deserves a trial.”

“We could give him to Duke Challe, Sire.”

Caudin nodded. “That’s really our only choice.”

The man was uncuffed from the wheels and recuffed for travel. The head guard personally delivered him to Duke Challe with three other men. Once they left for Nauvrige, Caudin stepped into the carriage with Anla. “I actually thought he was Challe’s man for a moment,” he said once they had privacy.

“What’s the Network?”

“The Sayenese spy association,” he said, wiping his hands on his trousers. “They’re trained similarly to trirecs, but not as brutally. They’re not as good, but still not someone I’d want to cross.”

“He was assigned to kill you or to scare you? Or to kill me?”

“He was aiming for me, I believe. Thankfully they don’t, or didn’t, know about my merit.”

“Why assassinate you? They had plenty of time to kill the Kalronists.”

“The Kalronists let the Sayenese do whatever they pleased. Now that the legitimate heir is back, my grandfather knows his country’s occupation of the Mielsa will be challenged.”

Anla whispered, “And without an heir, the line of succession will definitely die with you.”

He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “I don’t want you to be worried about that. I will sort things out with Sayen when we have a stronger presence. Until then, I will have to explain to my grandfather that we can do things diplomatically or in a difficult way.”

“Perhaps we should have Al write that letter.”

“Hmm, and I wonder now which one of those letters will have more expletives.”