“Is she mute?” Grudin asked, after a long silence.
“She has learned when to hold her tongue,” Sedrak said icily.
Grudin glowered for a moment, and then barked a laugh. “Well, I can appreciate a woman of good character, no matter her bloodline. You have my respect, dear, for what you did,” he told Leola.
“Thank you, sir,” Leola whispered.
“It was honorable,” Grudin continued. “But my nephew here seems to confuse admiration with something else.”
Leola held her tongue, mostly because she did not know what else to do. She stole a glance at Sedrak, who put a hand over hers, beneath the table, and patted it reassuringly.
Grudin grunted. “My nephew, you have performed well in all your battles. It was wise, wise for me to crown you king.”
His words, though a compliment in their meaning, felt like a threat.
“And so I have another request to make.”
Sedrak was silent. Leola felt him bristle. No one was eating now, and the air seemed thick with tension. Her chest hurt. If she were at her own home, she would have excused herself; she had seen conversations like this one grow darker with each passing moment, and it had never been her desire or her place to witness them.
“Send an emissary East and ask for Princess Havorka’s hand immediately.”
Leola wished a hole would open up in the floor she could crawl into. Her heart ached and suddenly she had no appetite. The realization came at once of Uncle Grudin’s change of mind about her joining them for lunch. He meant to make her position clear. To her, as well as to Sedrak.
“Uncle,” Sedrak began before clearing his throat. “It is on this matter that I must respectfully speak to you.”
Grudin tilted his chin. “So I have come to understand.”
Out of the corner of her eye Leola saw Grudin’s eyes dart to hers, then back to Sedrak. She began to rise, her knees wobbling. “Your… highnesses…” she began weakly, mainly to excuse herself.
“Sit back down, woman!” Grudin hollered, and Leola fell into her chair.
Sedrak was on his feet in an instant, the heavy chair pushed back with such violence that it tipped over. “You shall not speak to her thusly!”
Grudin did not move. He glared at Sedrak, and Leola felt that anything was possible between the two men: they could come to blows, or unsheathe their swords. Her hands were shaking and she clasped them together.
“The time has come, nephew,” Grudin said after an unbearable silence. “An heir is the only salvation for this kingdom.”
“And if I no longer—?”
Grudin stood up and pounded his fist on the table. If he had seemed remotely infirm before that moment, nothing of that impression remained. Leola was suddenly aware of the power and the former strength of the man before her. “We have spoken of this matter and we have decided upon it! There will be no more talk of it! You shall marry the Eastern king’s daughter and she shall bear an heir to both kingdoms.You gave me your word, nephew!”
The two men, panting with emotion and anger, stared at each other. But Sedrak was silent.
Grudin cleared his throat and brushed himself off. “The princess Havorka is tiresome,” he said slowly. “Produce an heir, and when he is born she shall be no impediment to your proclivities.” He looked at Leola. “You can reclaim your plaything at that time.”
Leola looked at her plate and fought against crying. There was another long silence, and then Grudin adjusted his furs and began to move toward the door. “We shall speak no more of this foolishness,” he said.
“I will not,” Sedrak said quietly.
Grudin stopped and turned. “Heh?” he said. He held a hand to his ear.
“I will not,” Sedrak said, straightening up, his voice loud.
Grudin looked at him, then venomously at Leola.
“You break your oath, dishonor yourself?” Grudin spat. “For a pillagedwhore?”
“Sedrak, please,” Leola begged, putting a hand on his arm. He shook it away. “Please, do not… this is not…” She did not know what was happening between the two men, but she did know she didn’t want to be at the center of it.
