"Huff, Tanya - Kigh 01 - Sing The Four Quarters V2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)Tucked back against the wall, Annice watched her relatives and waited, more or less patiently, for her chance.
Prince Theron, as Heir, stood close by the pillows on the right of the bed His wife, heavy with their third child, sat in a padded chair by his side The king had taken leave of his two older grandchildren earlier, in private but tradition insisted that both Heir and Heir's Consort remain until the end Theron had attempted to have his wife excused because of her advanced pregnancy but Lilyana had sternly told him not to be an idiot and had her favorite chair carried in from her solar As a political joining it hadn't been without its difficulties, but over the years they'd developed a relationship that appeared to work although Annice had never understood quite how Her sister, the Princess Milena, seemed to lean on the Duke of Manenka's bulk. Joined for only a year, a joining deliberately arranged to tie his lands more tightly to the crown, they were disgustingly happy. Each made it obvious they considered the other the center of the Circle Annice figured they were making the best of a bad situation and left it at that. Prince Tomelis, the king's youngest and only surviving brother, stood quietly, arms folded, his partner, Lukas I'Jo-hanka a silent strength by his side as he had been for the last thirty years. Now that Rihard was gone and Milena had lost her mind and Theron had gotten so difficult, Annice considered Uncle Tomelis to be her favorite relative. Not only because he'd refused an advantageous political joining with a prince of the Empire and followed his heart, but also because she'd heard him say that he'd rather have his teeth pulled than spend more time than necessary trapped within the walls of the palace. It was a sentiment with which she heartily agreed. Her Aunt Giti, the Princess Gituska, supported by both her son and daughter, sniveled into a lace-edged handkerchief. Annice had no use for those particular cousins, the only ones who remained in the Elbasan area. Two years ago at a First Quarter Festival, she'd got stinking drunk and embarrassed the family by having to be carried home and he'd thought the whole thing was funny Her aunt's grief, Annice would allow, however, was genuine. The king's personal healer stood opposite the Heir at the head of the bed, arms folded, hands tucked into her sleeves, her face struggling to come to terms with the knowledge there was nothing more she could do. Two members of the Governing Council watched from the foot of the bed and the current Captain of the Bardic Hall in Elbasan waited about halfway up the left side beside the droning priestЧpositions all demanded by the ceremony accompanying the passing of a king. A fire of wood soaked in aromatic oils blazed on the hearth. A low table held a basin of water and one of earth. And as long as we're breathing, we can't keep air out Annice tried not to fidget Why don't they get on with it? One after another, the king's family approached the bed for the formal farewell, first the cousinsЧA nonrepresentative sample at best, Annice snorted silentlyЧthen the aunt, then the uncle and his partner. As youngest child, Annice should've gone next, but somehow Milena and the Duke ended up by the bed. Annice was proud of the subtle manipulation she'd performed in order to move her sister up a place in lineЧa bit of shy hanging back combined with a silent plea to the sister for rescueЧuntil she caught the Bardic Captain watching her. Flushing slightly, she quickly schooled her features. Finally, it was her turn. The growth just under the edge of her father's ribs had been killing him slowly for the last two quarters Here, at the end, he was a physical caricature of himself, flesh long melted away skin hanging loose on the bone, gray hair dull and brittle Only his eyes remained unchanged even sunk as they were deep below saffron-tinted cheeks. Annice dropped gracefully to one knee, took a deep breath, and caught up the limp hand lying against the embroidered coverlet in both of hers "Most gracious and regal Majesty, I request a boon" The corners of his mouth twitched slightly "Go on" "I do request that rather than be promised to the Heir of Cemandia, to be joined for political expedience when we are of an age, I be permitted to enter the Bardic Hall of Elbasan" Within her grip his fingers moved "Who promises you to Cemandia's Heir?" "Theron" The old king's eyes blazed "Theron," he said in a stronger voice than any had heard from him in days, "does not rule yet" Theron leaned forward "Lord Juraj, the ambassador, only spoke of it, Majesty" "Yet neither you nor he saw fit to speak with the king" "We did not wish to tire you over mere speculation" "You passed this speculation to your sister" "Only to see if she would be willing" The dying man jerked out a dry laugh "Obviously, she is not" Go ahead, Annice thought, tell him that I never told you I didn't want to go along with your premature little power play and I'll call you a liar to your face Go ahead, Your Royal Highness, Heir of Shkoder, I dare you. She could feel the heat of Theron's glare, but all he said was, "I would not force her" "You cannot force her." The king paused, fighting for breath, but Annice could feel the pressure of his fingers against hers and knew he wasn't finished. After a moment, he turned his head toward the Bardic Captain "You have been after her for some time" It had been an open secret in the palace for very nearly a year Annice had no idea why her father hadn't agreed and realized she was attempting to force his hand as much as her brother's "Did you know of thisЕ boon?" Captain Liene's eyes never left the king's face. "No, Majesty. I did not." "Very well." The king lay quietly for another moment. When he spoke again, his voice held the ringing tone of proclamation. "I, Mikus, King of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Ajud, Bicaz, and Somes, do on this day grant the boon of my youngest daughter that she should be permitted to enter the Bardic Hall of Elbasan. Witness?" As the only bard present, the captain nodded. "I so witness." Annice released a breath she couldn't remember holding. "Thank you, Majesty." Then she stood to take a formal farewell of her king. Her father. After the words, which were words only, as her lips pressed a kiss against his cheek, he whispered, "Well played." Later, after the death had been witnessed and they were waiting for priest and bard and the new king to leave the bedchamber, Milena cornered her in the king's solar and hissed, "Just what's wrong with the Heir of Cemandia?" "Nothing." Annice jerKed her arm out of her sister's grip. "I just don't want to be joined with anyone. I want to be a bard." "And you always get what you want, don't you? Did you even consider your family obligations? Of course you didn't. There's a price to be paid for good food and warm clothes and a lifetime of servants saying 'yes, Highness, and no, Highness.' " Milena tossed her braid back over her shoulder. "But I always said Theron spoiled you." "He did not!" He'd just always been there when their mother had been interested only in the beautiful Irenka or their father had been too busy being the king, which was most of the time. Theron had brought her the news of their mother's accident and she'd clutched his hand when they'd buried her, not understanding why the healers couldn't fix her. She'd been the first after the proud parents to hold Theron's baby girl. That wasn't being spoiled. "Look, Milena, you're happy. Why can't I be?" "I found happiness on the path of duty. Obviously, that's not good enough for you." Having said what she'd come to say, Milena spun on her heel and returned to her partner's side. After a moment, their heads moved so close together a feather wouldn't fit between them. Annice felt her lip curl watching them, so she propped one leg on the window ledge and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed to be staying as far away from her as they could get, as if afraid physical proximity might implicate them in her plan. Well, Theron had been pretty angry and was likely to stay that way for some time. Only Tomelis would meet her eyes. Why does he look so sad? she wondered. Just for an instant, she wondered if she might have made a tactical error. How could she at fourteen actually outmaneuver a man nineteen years her senior? But I've done it. With everyone else joined before Theron takes the throne, he's already let me know that I'm too strong a game piece for him to lose from the board. Even if I didn't join with Prince Rajmund, he'd never let me become a bard. He couldn't stop her now. The door to the bedchamber opened and the men and women in the solar dropped to one knee as the new king emerged. Expecting him to walk right on through, Annice was startled when he stopped before her. "By the will of the late King Mikus," he said, "you have permission to enter Bardic Hall. I, Theron, King of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Adjud, Bicaz, and Somes, do on this day declare that by doing so you forfeit all rights of royalty, that you shall surrender all titles and incomes, that all save your personal possessions shall revert to the crown. Furthermore, for the stability of the realm, you may neither join nor bear children without the express permission of the crown. To do so will be considered a treasonous act and will be punished as such." Annice thought she heard a deep voice murmur a protest, quickly hushed. Eyes narrowed, she glared up at her brother, her new king. "Do you understand?" he asked, his lips pulled tight against his teeth. To be convicted of an act of treason was to face a Death Judgment. He thought she'd back down. Well, he was wrong. "I understand." "Witness!" Behind him, the Bardic Captain sighed. "Witnessed." Annice thought she saw something that might have been regret flicker for a moment in Theron's eyes then he turned away from her and said, "Done." CHAPTER TWO Done. Annice pulled off her mitten and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose. Sometimes Bardic Memory stinks. She didn't know whether she'd seen regret that afternoon or just imagined it. She'd never spoken to Theron, to any of them, again. Not once in ten years. She wasn't even sure if that was his idea or hers. "Annice?" Jon laid his huge hand lightly on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" "Yeah. I'm fine." |
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