“Prince Yarif is more a parent to those children than Her Majesty.” Okay, now the dam had broken. Maybe this interview wouldn’t take all afternoon. May stood abruptly. “Beg your pardon, sir. I will return in a moment.” She fled toward the kitchens.
Gone to raise rabble with cleavers and knives?
She returned bearing a tea tray. A small victory? May sat back down after serving tea and handing Draylon a plate of sweets, giving a tentative smile. She poured her tea from the same pot as his, which didn’t rule out his cup being poisoned. “Now, where were we?”
Draylon did like this woman and needed to stay on her good side, even if he didn’t yet trust her not to murder him. “Sadly, the crown prince perished in the battle. What of him?”
May shook her head slowly. “He was what his father made him, though he had a soft spot in his heart for the younger princes and princess.”
“He wouldn’t have made a good ruler.”
Again, May remained silent.
“Okay, what of Prince Yarif?”
May’s face lit up. “Now, there’s a good lad. Comes to the kitchens just to chat.” She pointed at the chair Draylon sat in. “Sits right there, he does. Sneaks treats to Prince Emile and Princess Adrina.”
The righteously angry Yarif had a gentle side? “You said he was more parent to them than the queen.” Draylon recalled what he’d been told about Prince Yarif standing guard over the two younger children. Gentleandprotective.
“I daresay he’d die to keep them safe,” May agreed. “I sometimes wonder if the queen even knows their names.”
How could anyone not value their children? In his position as commander, Draylon had no illusions of marrying and starting a family, but if he did… “I see. Tell me more about Prince Yarif.”Is he a traitor?
“Loyal to a fault, even though he didn’t often agree with his father and brother.”
“A younger son, involved in politics.” As a second son, Draylon had practically been pushed toward the military from birth. Had any of his unfortunate brothers lived to be the second son, they’d have been the family warriors while Father shoved Draylon toward a priesthood. Draylon shuddered at the thought. Then again, for the three stillbirths between him and his older brother.
“‘The kingdom is my business,’ Yarif used to say to me.” May gave a sly grin. “Used to come to me like you for all the palace gossip. He had many wonderful ideas for the kingdom, but his father wouldn’t listen. Didn’t include him in decision making for the kingdom. Our Prince Yarif learned anyway.”
“What kind of ideas?” From what May said, Yarif might have had some inkling of his father’s plans.
“He reads a lot, you see, suggested improvements to farming methods and wanted to introduce different plants and livestock. He also stood against his father betrothing the wee twins so young.”
“They’re around nine or ten, correct?” Betrothing someone so young wasn’t uncommon among social-climbing nobles. Good thing no one had tried to force such an alliance on Draylon. His father would have discovered how disobedient the spare heir could be.
“They’re nine. Prince Yarif believes a lot can happen in a few years, and the allies we want today might not be the ones we want later. He also wanted to give them a say in their own futures.” A unique viewpoint among many noble families, but admirable nonetheless. Draylon would likely never be faced with a dynastic marriage, not with an older brother who’d already provided three heirs.
“I gather he lost the argument, and the children are betrothed already.” What a horrid practice.
“Yes, and if given the power, I’d break both agreements.” In a harsh whisper from behind her hand, May murmured, “They’re betrothed to evil people.”
King Lleval’s betrayal went deeper than expected, even to his own family. Children should be allowed to be children. Draylon must ensure Father’s plans for the young prince and princess weren’t for a similar intent. “Continue, please. You were telling me about Prince Yarif.”
May leaned in as though betraying a confidence. “The crown prince couldn’t read and write properly; something about the words moving on the page. Yarif helped hide the problem from their father by handling Prince Barostian’s letters and explaining contracts and the like.”
“He acted as his brother’s secretary to keep others from discovering the secret.” Draylon kept a scoff of disbelief out of his voice with an effort. Nobody was as goodhearted as May let on.
More likely, Prince Yarif enjoyed the chance to learn secrets. He might know a good deal about the running of the kingdom then. Though he’d already asked in a roundabout way, Draylon tried again. “Would he make a good king?”
May turned her eyes away. “I should say yes, hoping the family stays in power, but the truth is the lad has too good a heart and not firm enough of a hand if you take my meaning.”
Yes. Yes, Draylon did. “Prince Yarif is of marriageable age. Why hasn’t he married?” As keen as King Lleval appeared with the younger two, why hadn’t he secured an alliance through marriage for the older son?
May snorted. “His father betrothed him three times, twice to mean old dukes and once to a duchess who only wanted the family connection and money. They all died before the marriage took place.”
Really? “Do you think Yarif had them killed?” They’d only met briefly, and Prince Yarif didn’t look like a treacherous schemer, but a good schemer hid their true natures well.
Prince Yarif appeared earnest, especially when speaking of his siblings, and he’d held off some of Rufe’s soldiers. Golden hair braided and held in place in a coil around his head by an elaborate hairpin, clear eyes as blue as a summer sky. Yarif had worn hunting leathers, likely the most protective clothing he could find for standing guard.
