From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [205]
Averella laughed. “Merciful heart! I see the problem now. Thank you, Gypsum, for saying it so plainly, but rest assured, dear sister, it will not be you.”
“I do not believe you know the prince’s mind that well,” Gypsum said, a haughty grin on her face. “For I spoke with him last night at dinner, and he paid me a nice compliment. If you still harbor doubts, I would be happy to fulfill Mother’s promise.”
“You must know that Mother rescinded that offer.”
“Yes, but the prince has not yet given me an answer,” Mother said, fighting a smile.
“See?” Gypsum bounced on the edge of the bed. “So there is still a chance I could marry him.”
Averella couldn’t keep a deep laugh from escaping. “Then perhaps Mother’s wedding date depends on you and not on me, Gypsum.”
“Oh, enough teasing, please!” Syrah said from her place at the door. “I can’t bear it. Tell us, my lady, please.”
“First, Syrah, come and give me a hug.”
The maidservant rushed to Averella’s bedside, and the two embraced.
“I was so worried about you, my lady. When your mother said you were lost…”
“None of that, now. I am perfectly well. And to ease your mind I shall tell you all that Prince Achan and I did speak before leaving Noiz.” She removed her necklace and slipped the half coin from its pouch. “Not only do I still carry his father’s ring, but he gave me this.” She held the coin up on her palm.
Mother, Gypsum, and Syrah all leaned in, eyes wide.
Syrah squealed and clapped her hands like a delighted child.
“Half a coin?” Gypsum frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Peasants sometimes split a coin as a token of an engagement,” Syrah said. “Because they cannot afford rings. But never with a gold coin, my lady.”
Averella studied the coin. The idea of marrying Achan soon, of being able to see him every day—without a chaperone!— sent a thrill from her head to her toes.
39
Achan sat at a table in a vast chamber. It was yet another meeting, but this time only Sir Caleb, Sir Eagan, Sir Gavin, Shung, and Prince Oren were present.
Dozens of reports had come in from allies across Er’Rets, who had until now been living in Darkness. People were celebrating, singing and dancing all hours of the day. An extraordinarily high number of people spent time outdoors, enjoying the sunlight and how nature was budding and blooming like spring. There would be one more hard winter there, but next fall would bring the first harvest western Er’Rets had seen in thirteen years.
There were also reports of people hiding from the light, as if the sun was a different kind of curse. Many Poroo and Eben tribes and some entire families from Melas and Mirrorstone were said to have gone underground, locked themselves indoors, or moved into caves. Achan wondered if they would ever recover from the influence Darkness had left on their minds.
Sir Caleb had recovered from his blow to the head. Achan and Duchess Amal had gone into the Veil, searching for Prince Oren’s stormed self. It took two days, but they had found him wandering the tombs of the kings in Noiz. Together, they had managed to reunite Prince Oren with his body. He had lost half his left leg from the green fire. A wooden cone was attached to his thigh and tapered to the floor. He moved about with a cane. He had lost a good deal of weight and his face was gaunt, but he was in good spirits. He’d accepted Achan’s thanks for saving his life, but refused to allow Achan to blame himself for the loss of his leg.
“What of the Council of Seven?” Prince Oren asked.
“I’d like to keep it,” Achan said. “But they will meet here three times a year. Do you think that reasonable?”
“Why keep it?” Sir Caleb asked.
“I think it’s important to leave some things as they were,” Achan said. “And the people of Er’Rets are familiar with the Council. I realize it was to be disbanded once the prince came of