Thirty-four

The inside of her mouth tasted sickly sweet and her cheeks ached as she woke to someone holding her upright and massaging both sides of her mouth at once.

“Mmph!” She tried to elbow them and her brother’s face bobbed into her vision.

“Marravae! If you ever worry me like that again-”

“Fetch the fresh lime with water and bitter mint and give her the Arek boiled grain porridge.” The voice was familiar and she turned her head to see the familiar healer from home. 

“Master Erthor.” 

The older man smiled at the relief in her voice. “We received a missive saying you had fallen ill and I was sent with all haste. Had I not been forcibly encouraged to rest myself,” he paused and cast a frigid glance to the Cuphisian healer standing nearby, “I would have been here before dawn. Ellus, son of Erras, gave a deeply concerning report after I was escorted under guard to a chamber and commanded to remain.”

“They should have allowed me back to keep watch over your health when you paced for hours.” The Arek spoke pointedly in Cuphisian as he gently shifted Marravae from his lap. “Try to remain upright, your Highness.”

“I will sit with my sister.” Gaeleath sat next to her. “Volas came to breakfast and threatened war in no uncertain terms if you failed to recover. He left some servants with us to help make certain Ellus and Master Erthor do not have to leave your side to be certain their orders are obeyed.”

Leaning against her brother’s side, Marravae sighed. “Father will scold me. If I’d stayed where I was supposed to…” 

“Volas and I would still have been given ymetel and we’d have woken to Myrin dead or desperately ill in his bed if he’d truly put drops in his own Zophin. King Merin is the one at greatest fault and Myrin is not far behind him. The only thing you could be scolded for, my dearest sister, would be putting yourself in as much danger as Volas and I were in.”

“That was why our father insisted I not go hunting without him.” Marravae gave him a sullen look and then tried not to smile as he kissed her head.

“You didn’t come for the hunting you came for the feasting, it should have been safe enough. I’ll tell him so if he scolds.”

°°°°°°°°°°

Feeling vaguely unwell, Marravae found it difficult to eat the Arek porridge that had pressed on her. Poking it with her spoon she frowned and sipped the water that had been brought. 

“Where are my Ladies? And why did-”

“I want you to eat before I risk upsetting you, Marravae.” Gaeleath smiled faintly and as she gave him a sharp look, he nodded and sighed. “They have been sent ahead to Volas’ lodgings. We will be joining them as soon as you’ve regained enough strength.”

“Why were they sent ahead?” It explained, at least, why the healers had tasted her food instead of one of the ladies in waiting.

A brusque rap came at the door and an Arek servant answered it. In Arek he announced, <“Prince Myrin wishes to enter, your Highness.”>

Her brother answered in the same. <“Allow him in.”>

Myrin looked annoyed but brightened on seeing her sitting and poking at the porridge. “I came to speak to Gaeleath and see how you were recovering, my dove.”

“I still feel ill and I know I need to eat but it’s difficult.”

“You have some color to your face again.” The Cuphisian Prince smiled warmly. “Even ill you are a beautiful woman, my dove.”

She put on a smile and dipped her head politely.

“Eat, Marravae.” Gaeleath offered Myrin a seat next to him at the room’s round table. 

The Cuphisian remained standing. 

“Myrin?”

“My father is being difficult. He insists that if you’re allowing the matron to be sent it is only to ensure any child I may have fathered with your sister could be sent back to us and not to allow the marriage to take place quickly.”

“I will not have that decided without my permission.” Marravae gave her brother a frigid look.

“The diplomats have not yet attempted to smooth matters, our father has not been spoken to, we do not yet know if the arrangement will stand or not. Whether it does or doesn’t a matron would simplify matters. If it holds-”

“If it doesn’t no one decides if my child will be sent away but me!”

“If it doesn’t hold you cannot expect your future husband to embrace another man’s-”

“If I cannot expect a man to embrace my child, a part of myself, then he is not worthy of my strength and support.”

“There is no need to speak of a child yet.” Erthor interrupted them. “Your mother’s family is fertile, it’s true, but fertility is not the only thing that must be taken into consideration. The poisoning, the overexertion, the travel it will take to see you home in your weakened state, your Highness…” 

“Even then, if it were a daughter and not a son who might challenge an adopted father’s heirs…” Ellus shrugged. “It would not be so great a matter. If they do not wish to send a matron the matter is not a grave one.”

The Cuphisian healer began to translate for Erthor but Myrin came to perch on the chair facing Gaeleath. Marravae took a bite of porridge watching intently.

“Give me some assurance, Gaeleath, that you will speak on my behalf. If you can give me that I will give the order for the matron to go in defiance of my father’s command.”

“I consider your father’s mistake to be graver than yours if you were truly unaware of the ymetel, but compounding them nearly cost my sister her life. Malicious or not, tampering with the food or drink of the Princes of Cemir and Arek is a breach of the peace. I cannot say if the arrangement will stand or not but I can give you my word that I will strive to keep this from becoming a war.”

That didn’t seem to be what Myrin was looking for and the Cuphisian put his face in his hands. 

“You’re going to give your sister to Volas.”

“I’m not giving my sister to anyone, my father will do that.” Gaeleath shook his head and glanced at Marravae. “If this arrangement fails, it may be another thirty or forty years before another is suggested. It could be our sons and daughters, Myrin, who make the next attempt to solidify the peace. We should all attempt to learn from this unfortunate matter so that if this-”

Myrin lurched to his feet. “You think you can have my sister without giving me yours?!”

Gaeleath rose with a grim smile on his face. “I tried to tell you already, Myrin. Your sister tried to murder mine. I will refuse that arrangement if it should be offered. If your arrangement with my sister fails, it may be our children making the next attempt.”

The sound of Marravae’s spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl was loud in the sudden silence. 

The Cuphisian let out a sudden shriek and lunged at Gaeleath. Before she could take her feet or anyone else could get close enough to intervene her brother shoved Myrin and then struck him so hard with a closed fist that the slender man fell back. The Areks stepped out of the way and let him fall to the floor.

Gaeleath looked carved from ice, tilting his head slightly, “You screamed like that trying to kill your boar. Were you trying to kill me? I didn’t kill mine because I pity the beasts. I have very little pity for the man who tried to poison me and succeeded in poisoning my sister. And it grows less when I think of you joining her in her bed in that drugged and helpless state. 

“The only thing keeping you alive, Myrin, is the fact that you are the Crown Prince of Cuphisia. And I am fully aware the only thing keeping Volas and I alive is a very similar reason after his Highness’ baring of the blade. 

“Your father is sending us out to await our father in an attempt to offer a minor insult at the same time as he tries to arrange circumstances to prevent war. But he is likely aware, if war is to be averted, it will be my hand and my words that do so. Kill my sister and I, and see your country divided as the spoils of war between Cemir and Arek. My father is young enough to have another heir and my mother will allow him that. I suspect she would choose the woman to bear the child and insist on it as she scolded him for not allowing her to give him a second son.

“Until this point I have been willing to be reasonable and to do all in my power to keep things as calm and close to what they were before the poisoning. You are quickly changing my mind.”

Marravae watched silently as the Cuphisian healer helped the Prince to his feet, pressing a cloth to his bloodied face, and out of the room under her brother’s frosty glare.

“Can my sister be moved?” Gaeleath frowned at Erthor.

“If the servants can carry her in the chair, yes. She is not to walk.” He gave a meaningful look to Ellus and they began to gather their things, putting them into heavy looking bags.

<“We need to be able to fight to defend their Highnesses.”> One of the servants shook his head, speaking up in Arek.

“I can carry my sister.” Gaeleath gave a nod to Erthor. “You usually have someone carrying those bags for you-”

“I’m not so old and infirm, I can manage-”

<“I can carry something and one of the soldiers posing as servants should carry one that can be dropped.”> Ellus spoke firmly in Arek as he surveyed the bags. <“Wrap her in a blanket to carry her, your Highness.”>

Marravae felt a little more solid having eaten most of the porridge as she watched her brother speak to Myrin but the sudden threat and burst of activity was making her feel a little light-headed. “I…” 

“Carrying her in your arms won’t do. Lie down, Princess.” Erthor came to help her to the bed immediately. “Send a runner and have a litter brought. You feel ill?”

“Light-headed.”

“She isn’t well enough for the strain of matters at the moment. Princess Marravae should recover quickly if she can be allowed to rest. A day or more in safety and a leisurely journey home.”

At a nod from Ellus one of the servants stepped out of the room.

“Rest.”