“I was otherwise occupied at the time,” she replied in the driest of voices, reminding me of the chaos of that afternoon that resulted in our wedding, and the frenzy to plan a party to cover the truth. How we’d spent that night. “And I didn’t suspect anything. It never occurred to Me that she might disappear so completely. I only thought she couldn’t bear to see Me married and apparently celebrating it.”
Lia let out a small sigh of regret, the sound the barest hint of the heartbreak that might go deeper than I’d suspected, a crack in that carefully maintained armor. Lia had held Tertulyn in great affection—and Tertulyn had clearly exploited that blind spot, using and abusing Lia’s trust. At least Lia was finally willing to discuss Tertulyn’s disappearance. It seemed so obvious to me that Tertulyn had been in a position to know everything about Lia and report on it, and also to subtly influence how Lia viewed Anure. If I pushed on this, though, I risked alienating Lia, again. Better to storm this particular fortress from a different direction.
“Tell me more about how being ‘otherwise occupied’ affects you,” I suggested. Her expression shuttered in that forbidding way I’d come to recognize. “Your ability to sense what happens on Calanthe could be critical in the days ahead,” I explained. “I need to know your limitations. If you have any.”
She didn’t smile at that, instead sighing and tilting her head subtly one way, then the other. Releasing tension from her neck without disturbing the wig and crown, I realized. “I have to be able to concentrate,” she said in a quiet voice. She really hated admitting to any weakness, I could tell, and could sympathize with. “The farther something is from My physical location, the more focus I need. It’s best when I’m all alone, in the quiet. Ideally, I need to be awake but not thinking.”
I frowned, confused. “How does that work?”
“I call it the dreamthink.” She hesitated again, this time as if she expected me to laugh or scoff. When I only listened, she continued. “It’s easiest when I first wake up—I can kind of drift? And then the sights and sounds of Calanthe come to Me vividly, like taking an inventory of My body.”
“Hmm.” I considered that. Not that I knew anything about magic. “Did your father teach you to do that?”
She shook her head. “No. He could access Calanthe, I think through the orchid ring, but in a different way than I can.” She studied the blossom on her finger. “I’m having to learn on My own.”
“Sounds difficult.”
Her crystal eyes rose to mine, wary and uncertain. “Yes? And no. I think … I think the orchid is trying to help Me learn.” Another sigh. “For a really long time, I tried not to listen to it. When it transferred to Me, my father had just died. I was only sixteen, betrothed to a monster, swamped with grief, and … I felt so very alone.”
I held her feet in a reassuring grasp. She’d never opened up to me like this before. I nearly said I thought we could grow to love each other, as my parents had, but it seemed unlikely that we’d have the time—and an impetuous declaration like that might just put her walls up again. “You’re not alone anymore, Lia. We’re bound to each other, forever.” I braced for a cutting reply, but she gazed back at me with eyes full of doubt.
“We don’t work well together,” she finally said.
“‘Two bulls in a small pen,’” I replied, quoting Brenda with a grimace.
To my surprise, Lia laughed, a musical sound, like well-tuned chimes. “I didn’t think you’d heard that particular quip.”
“More than once. And there’s truth in it. We both like to be the one giving the orders.”
“In My case, it’s more than liking it—I have a responsibility to put Calanthe first.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make decisions in harmony.”
“It does mean that if what you want goes against Calanthe’s best interests.”
True. I didn’t get her single-minded devotion to a piece of land, but I respected it. “We can balance our decisions—take both sides into account.”
“At least after fighting it out first,” she commented wryly.
“I’m willing to try if you are.”
She considered me. “As long as you’re ready to be a graceful loser. No withdrawing to sulk.”
I winced. “Fine. I’ll try. But you agree to listen to my side. Really listen,” I emphasized when she opened her mouth to argue.
She closed her mouth again, then smiled sweet as honey. “I’ll try,” she mimicked.
Laughing, I squeezed her feet. “Fair enough. Here’s some practice: I think Tertulyn betrayed you and left the island.”
“She could be hurt or dead,” Lia countered with that regal calm I’d begun to identify as one of her weapons. “Have you considered that possibility?”
“If so, wouldn’t you have sensed it? She’d be here on Calanthe, so you’d know. Unless you haven’t concentrated and looked for her.”
Her mouth firmed in unhappy acknowledgment of my logic. “I’ve looked.”
“Had Tertulyn’s behavior changed at all recently?” I asked, feeling my way carefully. This tentative agreement and conversational territory held hidden vurgsten charges that could explode in my face.
“You mean, since we heard that the terrible Slave King and his marauding armies had razed the city of her birth and were on the way to do the same to Calanthe?” She deliberately employed a tone of cool amusement, her gaze dagger-sharp.
“We didn’t raze Keiost. The rumors of my brutality have been exaggerated.” I caressed her foot in demonstration, drawing a quirk of a smile from her.
“My point is, we didn’t know that. Everyone was upset and feared the worst. So no, she didn’t do anything different than…” She trailed off, a rare line forming between her brows.
“Something?” I prompted.
“Maybe nothing.”
“But…”
“But I’d had her watching Syr Leuthar, Anure’s emissary, that day I had you, Sondra, and then Ambrose brought to Me for private audiences. She fell asleep and failed to warn Me in time—and Leuthar saw Ambrose with Me when I’d hoped to keep him hidden.”
I didn’t say anything. If one of my own people had failed in such a critical assignment, I would not have been forgiving.
“She was exhausted,” Lia said, as if I’d argued aloud. “I was annoyed with her, yes, and surprised at the lapse, but we’d been under pressure and I’d been asking a great deal of her.”
I nodded. Lia’s brows forked down in a true frown. “Ejarat take you, Con. I know what you’re thinking.”
“That taking a nap sounds like a flimsy excuse to fail you in a way that served Anure’s purposes?”
She looked away, her mouth tight.
“How about this?” I decided to push, since we’d gotten this far. “That letter from Anure quotes what I said at our wedding toast. I called him an upstart emperor of a false empire.”
“Without clearing it with Me.”
“And I never will. I don’t expect you to, either. Neither of us has to get permission from the other. We can fight it out in private after.”