Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [95]
“No, Sir King.”
“Then you also attend us, and we will see if I can learn more from her. Tomorrow, Kaelith, I will walk with Ganlin.”
At the appointed hour, Kieri waited in the rose garden, now a fragrant glowing haven of color. Elis appeared with Arian and Binir. Her expression was, as always, guarded and cool; she curtsied gracefully. “Sir King, I am honored that you wished to see me.”
“I am honored that you wish to be my queen,” Kieri said, and noted the instant withdrawal and stiffening. She was no more eager for a marriage than he was. “Let us walk.”
She moved with him down the path between the roses and other flowers, silent and pale.
“My mother planted this garden,” he said. “She loved roses above all flowers, I am told. Does your mother?”
“She did,” Elis said, in a choked voice. “She had some in a pot. She … died. My father threw them away.”
Kieri felt a jolt of sympathy. “My mother died, too,” he said. “But luckily, my father also loved roses and chose to remember her by preserving her garden.” He did not know if that was true, but it seemed reasonable.
“My father says they are weak southern flowers, not worth the trouble.”
“They do not seem weak to me,” Kieri said. “But I never grew them in the north.”
Her hands, clasped at her waist, relaxed a little. “If—if I were to—to marry—would I have to stay here?”
“Stay here?”
“Inside the walls.” Her voice rose a little. She stopped and resumed very quietly. “If—would it ever be possible to—to walk abroad. Even—ride?”
“Your guardians are concerned for your safety,” Kieri began, but Elis made an impatient gesture.
“At home,” she murmured, “I rode … in trousers like those the Squires wear. But—but then—”
“Come this way,” Kieri said, and led her farther along the path, where an artfully designed waterfall gave an excuse to face away from the palace windows and the falling water would cover their voices. “Now,” he said, when he was sure they would not be overheard or their faces seen. “Watch the water and listen to me. You are unhappy: the women attending you have seen that. They tell me you have the hands and walk of someone who is used to weapons, and that you and Ganlin are passing secret messages. No—do not turn around and do not jerk like a frightened horse at its lead.”
She was instantly still, but tense. “I—I cannot talk about that.”
“I think you are here against your will, and that you and Ganlin were planning something your families did not approve. You’re both related to that woman who came here for my coronation—Hanlin, her name was, a sister of the queen?”
“A sister of the current queen and Ganlin’s aunt,” Elis said. “The king married again after my mother’s death.” She took a breath and hurried on. “If they find out I told—Sir King, you are right. I did not want to come. Or marry. They drugged me that night at dinner. I was to leave the next day for my own place—my very own—my father promised—and then—”
“Breathe slower,” Kieri said. “So you were drugged and brought here … and did you then try to escape? Is that why you arrived in the middle of the night?”
She nodded. “I thought I could outride my guardians—escape completely or arrive long before them, and beg you for mercy.”
“For mercy?”
“For—for meaning—” She gulped then and Kieri realized she was about to cry.
“Pinch your nose,” he said.
“Wh-hat?”
“Pinch your nose. Hard. And think of something funny. You must not be seen crying. It leaves your eyes red, and they will ask questions.”
Startled, she complied, and in a moment was calmer.
“Soldier’s trick,” Kieri said, grinning. “For a sneeze, for a sob.” He sobered again. “Elis, I will not marry anyone who does not want to marry me. It was wrong of them—I suppose it must have been your father—to drug you and send you unwilling to me. But before I can find a way to help you, I must know more. Why you? Are you the only girl?”
“No,” Elis said. She let go her nose for a moment and looked almost cross-eyed down it. “I have sisters who would have been willing, but I am the eldest. And I am, my stepmother and father