The king continued grandly, “You have long held discord between you, and we know that when we die very likely war and strife would erupt between you as you each would try to claim more of the other’s.”
“Father,” said Gaela, “there is a single sure way to stop such an outcome.”
He held up his hand. “To stop this, we will divide our lands now between your wives, according to the stars, and our youngest daughter, Elia, whose suitors have waited patiently to hear her choice.”
“And would wait longer still, good Lear, for the chance,” called the king of Burgun with a smile in his voice.
Lear returned it. “Indeed.”
The king of Aremoria said nothing.
Kay Oak stepped forward, a hand hovering protectively near the youngest daughter’s shoulder. “Lord,” he said, going briefly to his knee. “Your kingdom wants for a single crown. Why—”
Lear cut him off. “Worry not! We will name our heir now, as the stars have prophesied. And our heir will be crowned at dawn after the Longest Night, as has been since the first king of our line.” Lear looked at Gaela, his ferocious and tall eldest, then cool Regan, the middle child, then Elia, his precious star, finally in her turn. That youngest stared rigidly at her father. She did not even seem to breathe.
Did she suspect what was to come?
The king spread his hands again, chest puffed and proud. “The stars of heaven proclaim the next queen of Innis Lear shall be the daughter who loves us best.”
In the silence, nearly everyone looked at Elia, for all knew she was the king’s favorite. But Lear had not said,the daughter I love best.
Though all three women were practiced at projecting to the world the face they chose, each gave something away in that moment: Gaela her hunger, Regan her pleasure, and Elia her utter disgust.
“Eldest,” the king said, “it is your right to speak first.”
Gaela laughed once, loud as a man. “My father, my king,” she called,moving before the throne to perform for the entire court. “I love you more than the word itself can bear.” Her voice made the phrase into a growling threat. “My devotion to the crown of Lear is as great as any child ever bore for her father, more than life and breath, and I will defend my love with all the strength and power of Lear and Astore behind me. The truth of my words is in my stars: I am the Consort Star; I rise to the Throne of Innis Lear.”
Nodding with elaborate satisfaction, Lear said, “And you, Regan? How do you answer?”
Regan did not immediately move to join Gaela before the throne, but her husband put his hand on her back and gently pushed. She spread her hands in a simple gesture of supplication. “I love you, Father, as my sister does, for we share a heart and we share stars. I ask that you appraise me at her same worth.” For a moment, her words hung in the air. Connley’s hand slid up the brown arch of her neck, and Regan frowned, then smiled up at her father as if she had only just now realized some vital truth: “Yet, Father, in my deepest heart I find that although Gaela names my love, she stops short, for there is no other love that moves me so much as my love for you.”
The king smiled magnanimously at Regan, then Gaela. The sisters glanced at each other, as if they could sharpen their smiles against each other’s teeth.
“Well said, daughters,” said the king of Innis Lear, before looking to his youngest.
She stared back.
“Elia, our joy?” the king said tenderly. “What will you say?”
Silence thundered throughout the great hall.
Courtiers leaned in, to hear the first breath she took in answer. All she had to do was be honest, and the island would be hers. All she had to do was tell the world what it already knew: she loved her father, and always had.
But when Elia Lear spoke, she said, “Nothing, my lord.”
“What?”
Lear’s calm demand echoed in the mouths of others. What had the princess said? Why? What was this game? Did the king and his daughter play it together, or was it a trap?
Elia spoke up. “Nothing, my lord.”
Lear smiled as to an errant puppy. “Nothing will come from nothing. Try again, daughter.”
“I cannot heave my heart into my mouth, Father. I love you… as I should love you, being your daughter, and always have. You know this.” Elia’s voice shook.
“If you do not mend your speech, Elia,” the king said, glowering, “you will mar your fortunes.”
Swallowing, Elia finally took a very deep breath. She smoothed hands down her skirts, and said, “If I speak, I will mar everything else.”
