Fortune's Fool - Mercedes Lackey [39]
That wasn’t a bad thing at all.
There was an old couple near the fire, quietly sharing a meal, but with obvious affection between them; those two he could understand being here in the middle of the day. Though he wore the garb of a fisherman, it was clear that his fishing days were long past.
And the innkeeper and his wife were clearly bound by both love and a strong partnership.
It was all a lovely atmosphere of contentment, affection, cordiality.
And the result of all of this was to make Sasha feel terribly lonely.
It was one of those moments when he realized how very apart he was from the rest of his family. His very nature set him apart from them; he would always be one thing to them in private and something different in public. Out here he wasn’t the Fool; he was Sasha the Singer; a bit of a mystery, but he’d made this trip often enough that people took him at face value. When he got home, though, it would be back to being Sasha the Fool, and no one was really kind to Sasha the Fool except behind closed doors.
Certainly he had never seen a young lady regard him with any kind of interest. It wasn’t going to get any better, either. By now, the Palace would be full of news, speculation, or both, about the Crown Prince’s new bride. Once the Crown Prince was settled, there was a strong likelihood—a certainty in two cases—that the rest of his brothers would bring up the brides of their own choosing for approval, Yes, it was that season. It seemed as if Sasha was the only creature in Led Belarus that wasn’t paired up, or about to be paired up.
Nor was he ever likely to be. Not even by an arranged marriage. Who’d marry the Fool? Who’d betroth his daughter to the Fool? The very scorn that made his magic possible also made any kind of a normal life impossible. The only chance to find a woman lay among the magical creatures of the realm…and he wasn’t at all sure that he wanted to make that kind of alliance with one of them. That could be very dangerous.
Besides, which of them would care to take up with a mere human? Mortal, short-lived, it was the kind of relationship that could only end in sorrow. Songs were sung about that very thing—which, Traditionally, made it all the more likely that any love between him and a creature of legend would end badly.
Maybe a witch…
Or maybe not. Witches were settled, and wouldn’t want to pack up and move to be near the Palace. And he couldn’t leave the Palace except to make his rounds.
He stared glumly down at his reflection in the mead, thinking with resignation that he was, in all probability, doomed to live and die as unicorn bait.
Finally he couldn’t bear all the couple-ness around him; no one had asked him for a song, in fact, they were all so engrossed in each other that he doubted they had ever noticed him. He went to his room.
It was a good room in a good inn. He had the narrow bed and the small room to himself; most travelers slept two to four to a bed, whether they knew each other or not. The feather mattress was nicely stuffed and clean, the bedding was clean, the blankets newly aired. Clean, neat—those were the touchstones to this place. And at least he wasn’t staring at courting couples. But it was not much better for his loneliness than being down in the common room had been.
After lying on the bed staring up at the wooden ceiling for a while, he finally decided that this was doing him no good either. But the afternoon was still young. He didn’t have to stay here. And out there was the reason why he favored this inn and this road over all others, including some inns that were downright up to the standards of a Prince. And he could hear its voice calling him through the little window in his room.
The sea.
He loved the sea. If he hadn’t been born into the Royal family, he thought he might have been a