Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [64]
“It won't.” Lilli felt oddly calm. “I'm sorry, Your Highness, because I never wanted to wound you. But I've seen the truth of my feelings for you now, and I know them. I cannot love you, I just simply cannot.”
“I don't believe it.”
“Please try. Ye gods, Maryn, you've got a wife who loves you more than life itself! Why must you have me, too?”
Much to her surprise he considered the question, his eyes grave. “I have the wife the kingdom demanded,” he said at length. “But I'm a man like any other. What man do you know who's content with one woman all his life?”
She'd made a tactical mistake, she realized. The only man she'd ever known to be content with one woman was her foster-father. How to turn the prince's thrust aside? She felt her breath halt in her throat, and she gulped for air. Maryn got up and held out his hand.
“Are you all right?” he said. “Come sit down, and I'll stand.”
She shook her head no and caught her breath at last. “Maryn, please,” she said. “Have all the women you want. I just can't be one of them.”
“It's because you pity her, isn't it?” Maryn said. “Bellyra, I mean.”
“That's somewhat of it, Your Highness. You're the prince and may do as you like, but I'd not be the woman who adds to the princess's grief.”
“Oh come now! Bellyra was raised to be a king's wife. Our marriage was arranged when we were but children.”
“So? That means you love her the less, but it's different for her.”
“Nevyn's behind this, isn't he? No doubt he thinks you need to concentrate on your studies or some such. Or is he in love with you himself?”
“That thought dishonors you, Your Highness. Of course not!”
Maryn started to answer, then merely scowled with his lower lip stuck out. Lilli suddenly saw him as a child, a big, hulking child in a man's body, not much older than Prince Casyl, perhaps, screaming when his nursemaid took away some dangerous toy. Involuntarily she took a step back.
“Oh ye gods,” Maryn said. “Don't fear me! That's the most unkind thing you've done.”
Just in time Lilli stopped herself from blurting out the truth of her reaction. Instead she laid a hand on her throat as if, indeed, she feared he'd strike her. Maryn tossed his head and stamped one foot upon the floor.
“Very well,” he snarled. “You no longer love me. Far be it from me to force myself upon some unwilling lass. But we'll see, my fine lady, how long your resolve lasts.” He bowed to her with a mocking flourish of his hand, then turned and strode out of the chamber.
Lilli listened until his footsteps had died away, then rushed to the door, shut it, and barred it. She leaned her head against its solid wood and concentrated on breathing. In some short while her tormented lungs began to ease. She walked over to her chair and sat down, staring out the window, where the stars glittered, cold and fierce in the warm summer night.
“I'm going to miss him,” she said aloud.
The moment she spoke she knew that she'd lied. What she felt was profound relief, that at last her mind and heart belonged to the dweomer alone.
Nevyn was in the great hall, talking with young Prince Riddmar, when Maryn came hurrying down the staircase. Since the Wildfolk lent strength to his every mood, his rage announced itself to everyone around. This late there were few riders or lords about to see the display, and Nevyn was glad of it. Maryn stormed across the hall, yelling at a page who approached him, kicking a dog out of his way, snarling at a servant lass to get him mead and be quick about it. He threw himself into his chair at the table of honor and scowled at Riddmar and Nevyn impartially. “Get to bed, Riddo,” Maryn said. “Now.” All wide eyes, the boy got up and started to bow. Maryn raised himself half out of his chair. Riddmar turned and ran for the staircase. Maryn sat back down. The servant lass crept toward him with a goblet in her hand; Maryn snatched it out of her grasp and let her run, too. Nevyn waited to speak until he'd drunk half the goblet straight off.
“Your Highness seems distressed about somewhat,” Nevyn