The druid didn’t know what to say.
“Suppose you have some ideas about how things are done here in the west,” she continued. “That is to be expected. But now that your place is confirmed, I think it best we all embrace what will come. Hm?”
“I feel there are few who agree.”
“That doesn’t change what’s true. My duty is to help prepare you. To be the bride of a Vaich—it is a burden of its own. But it needn’t be heavy.” Lady Merah gestured for him to follow and he obliged, much to Ruicá’s chagrin.
The two walked the length of the room, the tawny rug soft beneath their feet. The Queen Dowager was a sparkling citrine amongst her yellow wreaths.
“When I married Lach’Dun, my task was clear—bear the Vaich’s seed forth. It was easy for me, as I loved my husband. And I understood that the king must prove his capabilities. On the battlefield… in bed.” She smiled knowingly. “Any physical shortcoming is a sign of impotence. And that makes your role all the more particular.”
If displays of manhood were so important, it followed that the An’Atherin would have loved nothing more than to bury the druid. As it was, they were forced to accept a queen who could never be their trophy of virility. He could not see why the Queen Dowager seemed so eager to accept her role. But then, the druid had never understood love.
“There is more to a queen than simply bearing children,” she said. “Even if it is much less loudly praised. It has a subtle nature, though invites just as much scrutiny.”
“And what role is that?” he asked.
She chuckled. “Why,everythingelse.”
“Certainly no one expects me to run a kingdom,” he muttered.
“Of course not. But there is a great deal of work in running one household. You shall be in charge of many. All of Rhyd-hal must answer to the king. And he may not always be ready to speak. When he cannot give orders, that duty will fall to you.”
The druid’s skin itched. He squirmed within it. “Surely there is someone better.”
“Why should there be? Wives run this land the world over. It’s nae politics, but common sense.” Again, her smile broke through. “Don’t worry. Today will be a small test. Wedding preparations are a dull business, but it will help dip your wee toes.”
Lady Merah was as warm as her reception hall. He had few friends and was wary of calling her one, but her words gave him hope.
Maybe… maybe he could do something about his dreams after all.
Until that day, he had existed as little more than a fixture, a thing that lingered along the edge of a world that sought desperately to ignore him. Now, he had a receiving room, and tailors and caterers came to call. He was no one and nothing, and they were made to bow. Things that shouldn’t have mattered to him required his word of approval.
“Shall it be the mutton or the pork?”
“Would you prefer green or dun?”
They brought a piper from the northland for him to sample his skill, and a baker from the east who could produce cider cakes.
The business was, indeed, exceedingly dull, and he began to think his ambition foolish. He had visions of war and of slaughter. He did not care about the color of the drapes.
When they were alone again, he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?”
“Someone must do it,” Lady Merah reminded him.
He wondered why the Vaich should not be involved. He wasn’t off fighting wars or winning battles. It was laziness, not necessity.
Lady Merah seemed to understand his thoughts even in his silence. “It may seem absurd, but there is purpose in partnership. Not everything will be fair, but in the end, it is a shared load. He has his part to play, too.”
“I have not seen it,” the druid said dryly.
Lady Merah raised her brows. “As to be expected…” she muttered more to herself. “Butthatpart will come later.”
The druid didn’t know “what part”.
He scoffed. “This is all nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
