“No, thatisthe point. If anyone can heal Coralee’s heart and form a bond with her strong enough to sire the daughters we all need, it’s Dilys. And do not forget, Coralee will beDonimaof House Calagi one day. Even if she bears only sons, they will be sons of a pure and powerful royal bloodline, guaranteedimlanibrides of their own.”
“And what is House Sami getting in return?” Her eyes narrowed. “My uncle Aleki’s daughter Aleakali Maru will be the nextMyerialif Dilys has no daughter while I live. I have heard rumors that Aleakali is expecting a daughter. I’ll wager House Sami has surrendered the contract for Coralee in exchange for a betrothal contract to Aleakali’s daughter. Why wed a son of House Sami to a Calagi when that son could wed a futureMyerialinstead?”
“If that’s true, then why do we not approach Aleakali ourselves and propose that Dilys should wed her daughter?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Alysaldria snapped. “Dilys earned hisulumi-liafour long years ago. I don’t want him waitingfivemore years for a wife, and you suggest making him wait another twenty?”
“Perhaps you should ask Dilys what he wants. Perhaps he would not mind waiting a few more years for animlanibride? Perhaps he would even prefer to betroth himself to a futureMyerialof Calberna.”
“And perhaps pigs will grow gills and swim with the kracken.”
Under any other circumstances, Dilys would have been fighting to smother a laugh at that sharp-tongued remark. As large and loving as his mother’s heart might be, she also possessed a ferocious temper, an iron will, and a wit that had fangs and battle claws of its own.
“Betrothing Dilys to an infant not yet born is out of the question,” his mother continued, “but as for the Calagi girl, never let it be said I made this decision without considering my son’s wishes.” Alysaldria turned to Dilys. “Moa elua,my son, you have a chance to wed animlanibride from a fine, strong House. And though I am impatient to see your future settled, five years is not twenty. Coralee Calagi is a beautiful girl, with many gifts. She will become Matriarch of House Calagi when her mother is gone. You and your children will want for nothing, and your blood—our blood—will make House Calagi even stronger than it is today. It is, as Calivan has pointed out, a fine and advantageous match, better than I could have hoped for after the death of our dear Nyamialine. If you want her, say the word.”
“Well,” he replied guardedly, “if I waited and wed animlani,that would eliminate the friction between you and the otherDonimari,who fear a half-blood inheriting the Sea Throne.”
“I don’t care about that.” His mother waved impatiently. “The ones objecting the loudest have a vested interest in seeing the Sea Throne go to my cousin Aleakali. They’ve seized upon Loto Sami’s untimely death as an excuse to grab the power they crave. Where were these concerned citizens when Nyamialine died? Did any one of them offer to surrender their own House’s betrothal contracts to the son of the newMyerial?Ono,they did not. So, I’m not asking what they want, I’m asking what you want.”
Dilys hesitated. It wasn’t the delay that gave him pause. He’d already waited four years after all. Five more years wouldn’t be such a long time. But he had loved Nyamialine, his childhood betrothed. Even though they’d only been children together, her death had stolen the joy from his heart for years. He knew that Coralee, who had spent her whole lifetime loving and being loved by Loto Sami, would not mend the wound of that loss in five short years. Not even if Dilys gave up the sea and spent every moment by her side. Perhaps it was wrong and selfish of him, but he wanted a wife capable of lovinghim,not mourning the betrothed she’d loved and lost.
“Nima,” he finally said, “I will do whatever you feel is best for Calberna and House Merimydion. If you wish me to wed Coralee Calagi, then I will do so with proper joy in my heart.”
“But?” his mother prompted.
“But if the choice is mine, then I would sail for Konumarr tomorrow, as planned.”
Alysaldria sat back and smiled. “Your desire is mine as well. It is decided, then.”
“Alys—” Calivan started to object, until his twin’s commanding gaze silenced him.
“Lord Chancellor,” theMyerialsaid formally, “please recall the others so that I may give them my decision.”
The queen had spoken. Clearly realizing further protest was futile, Calivan bowed stiffly and gave the guards at the door the order to open the throne-room door. He and Dilys both stood beside the throne, presenting a united front as the others entered. To Calivan’s credit, no matter what his personal opinions on a matter might be, once the queen decided a course of action, not by word or deed did he ever make his objections known to another.
“Sealords,Donimari,” Alysaldria nodded to officials and the matriarchs. “The decision has been made. The prince and his men sail tomorrow for the winter lands to court the wives they have earned the right to seek.”
“Moa Myerial!” the Minister of Internal Affairs protested.
She held up a hand to silence him. To the matriarchs, she said, “My son is twenty-nine. He earned hisulumi-liafour years ago, yet still he is unwed. At your behest.” Alysaldria turned to regard her Minister of Internal Affairs sternly. “Five—almost six—years ago, you and Calivan convinced me and my Council that Dilys should wait to choose hislianaso that we could investigate all potential brides and select a union that would best serve Calberna and House Merimydion. Four years ago, Calivan assured me that a Season of Summerlea was that best union. Now, you come to me saying a Season of Summerlea will not suit and that we must rob House Sami of their long-awaited joy and force my son to wait five more years until Nyree Calagi’s daughter is of age to marry?”
The high priest spread his hands. “Moa Myerial,please...”
Alysaldria’s golden eyes flashed with temper. “Are you so afraid that this Season will bear a daughter for House Merimydion? Or is it that you think me incapable of ensuring that a daughter of House Merimydion will be born a trueimlanicapable of ruling from the Sea Throne? You suggest I am too weak to make it so?”
The minister and the high priest both flinched.
“We have heard enough.” TheMyerialstood before her throne, her eyes glowing like golden suns. She didn’t often speak from the Sea Throne, using the royal “We,” but when she did, it meant she was speaking as the Power of Calberna and that her decision was irrevocable. Recognizing the command for what it was, Calivan, Dilys, theDonimari,and the others all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads in submission, keeping their gazes fixed on the floor.
“Ministers,Donimari,We thank you for your concerns and your efforts to do what you believe to be in the best interests of Calberna. But We will not ask House Sami or House Calagi to break a contract signed in blood and salt. Nor will We deprive Our son, theMyerielua,his right to seek without further delay the happiness and peace he so richly deserves. And should Numahao grace his union with animlanidaughter for House Merimydion, she will be born with gifts great enough to honor the Sea Throne upon which she will sit, even if We must give Our own life to make it so. So We have spoken. So shall Our will be done.”
The gathered courtiers murmured in unison, “So You have spoken. So shall Your will be done.”
“You are dismissed.”
The group rose and backed out of the room, bowing as they went.
When they were gone, and the throne-room doors closed behind them, Calivan turned to his sister. “Alys, what have you done?”
