"Yes, and he wasn't missing eyes or hands. He just looked like he'd been through a rough time. Not like someone who was at death's door."
If he looked intact but sickly, my terminal-disease hypothesis was more likely. It also aligned with why they were sending him far away, so he could die in peace without reporters hunting him.
"It's also possible that he simply decided he didn't want the crown and used the injury as his way out. Men have done stranger things to escape a throne." She picked up her tea again. "It's nothing fatal. I'll make it work. The alliance is worth a great deal more than my preferences."
I studied her, my polished, dutiful sister, who had been groomed since the cradle to be the next Queen of Tarina and had accepted her birthright with grace and dedication.
"Do you even like Arlen?" I asked.
She blinked, as if the question belonged in a category she hadn't considered. "Like him? I barely know him."
"But you've met him. We both have. Setting aside the alliance and the goodwill and what Mother wants, is he a man you could be glad to wake up beside each morning? Have you ever had a single feeling about Arlen as a man? Not just the crown prince?"
"I never thought about him at all," she admitted. "Why would I? He was the crown prince of Catonia. He was so out of my reach that there was no point. I met him the same way you did, in the Catonian annual balls. We said hello, bowed to each other, and moved on. He has never even asked me to dance, and he'd asked many of the other princesses. I guess he was also scoping out only those who could one day be his potential brides. He wasn't wasting time on those who would never be offered to him." She turned the cold glass in her hands. "I remember thinking that he was handsome and charming and wondering whether the charm was real." She smiled. "Let's focus on whathe's not. He's not hideous, he's not mean, and he's not empty-headed."
I chuckled. "You mean like Gavon?"
"Gavon didn't even cross my mind. There are worse examples."
"Indeed." Taking a page from Cardilia's book, I lifted my barely touched glass of tea and sipped to hide my face from her.
A wave of pity washed over me, and I didn't know who it was for more. For poor Arlen, who had thrown himself into harm's way for his father and been rewarded by being denied his birthright and parceled off to the back of beyond like a piece of equipment that had finished its useful life. For my sister, who was being handed a broken man and told to be grateful, chosen not because anyone wanted her but because she was the respectable place to hide him, the consolation wife for the consolation prince. It was so cruel to be chosen because the shining thing was no longer shiny enough and needed somewhere quiet to be retired.
"You deserve better than this," I said quietly.
She looked at me with surprise. "There is no better." She said it without bitterness, which was the worst part. "Tarina got lucky because of the prince's misfortune, and for that I'm sorry. I will try to make him as comfortable as possible and restore him to health as much as I can." She drank her tea, and when she lowered the glass, her face had reassembled itself into its usual serene expression, the heir again, the crack sealed over. "I just needed to tell someone whom I trusted to keep it a secret." She let out a breath. "Marriage is a big step, even when it's arranged, and I wanted to share the news with you."
Apparently, Cardilia and I were very different people. I could never have accepted this deal with not only grace but also optimism. She was a better woman than I was, a better princess for sure.
"I hope you will find happiness with Arlen, or at least contentment. You both deserve it."
Nodding, she rose and smoothed her skirts. "Thank you for listening, and for not judging."
"What is there to judge?" I stood up and pulled her into a gentle hug. "You are an outstanding woman, Cardilia. I'm so proud of you."
She leaned away. "Proud of me for accepting a marriage you were against a moment ago?"
"You are selfless. You are sacrificing your happiness for Tarina, for the family, and you are not even bitter about it. I don't think I could be so gracious."
She smiled. "I'm not sacrificing anything because it was never mine to sacrifice. I always knew I would marry the man who would benefit Tarina the most and not the one who would make me happy. In fact, I'm relieved that it's Arlen and not a buffoon like Prince Dorsy of Oranida."
I shivered. "Thankfully, Dorsy was never on Mother's list. She wouldn't be that cruel."
Cardilia lifted a brow. "Are you sure of that? Has she shown you her list?"
"No, did she show it to you?"
"Of course not." Cardilia leaned to kiss my cheek, and then she was gone, and I remained standing in the same spot she'd left me, feeling a shameful flicker of relief beneath the pity.
Thank Elurion that it wasn't me.
I was the third child of the queen of a poor province, and the odds of me ever becoming queen were nearly nonexistent. I had almost no value at a negotiating table, and not for the first time, I was grateful for it. Whatever games the seventeen courts were playing, and whatever alliances were being forged, chances were that they would never reach down as far as me. I could go onwith my research, keep Gavon as my paramour, or replace him with another.
It was freedom, and I was so thankful for it.
Ursa walked in and started to gather the plates of fruit that were still almost as full as when she'd brought them out.
"Tell me something, Ursa." I kept my voice light and my expression impassive, which wasn't easy because Ursa was very good at reading faces. "Have you heard any new gossip? Has my mother been receiving unusual guests lately? Both my mother and sister seem troubled and excited in equal measures."
