Exile's Valor

He made a great many people uneasy, without any of them being able to articulate why. He made Selenay uneasy, as a matter of fact; she could never glance at him—except in the times when he was very much in the here-and-now—without an involuntary shiver.

And yet, there were plenty of people who saw no difference in him at all. People like Orthallen, for instance; they acted in Talamir’s presence now exactly as they had acted in Talamir’s presence before the last battle.

Before he died, and was dragged back to life. . . .

That was the crux of it, of course. Heralds, Healers, and Bards almost all sensed it. Talamir was a man in two worlds now, and most of his concentration seemed to be taken up with the unseen world. That was why Selenay just could not bring herself to confide in him, even though that was what the function of the Queen’s Own was supposed to be.

How could I sit there and tell him things? she wondered wearily. Even if he wasn’t a man, and as old as my father. It would be like trying to share girl-secrets with a particularly unworldly priest. . . .

And anyway, Talamir had been her father’s closest friend—which was only as it should have been, of course, but how could she tell him how much she missed her father and cry on his shoulder, when surely Talamir missed him as much, or more? It would be too cruel, too cruel for words. Talamir had already suffered so much pain, losing his own Companion to death as well as Sendar and so many other friends—No, it would be too cruel to inflict further pain on him that way.

As for sharing her scarcely-articulate longing for, well, romance—

Oh, no. He would never, ever understand. And she’d get a grave, well-considered, perfectly reasonable lecture about her duties as Queen, and how great power required great responsibility.

As if she didn’t know, as if she didn’t feel all that with every pulse of blood through her veins.

But that didn’t stop her from wanting it. Even though most of the younger members of her Court were probably going to make arranged marriages in the end, that didn’t stop them from flirtations and even outright courtship. After all, there was always the chance that both sets of parents would be pleased to find that an alliance had been made.

And even if they weren’t, well, as one young lady had tearfully put it, unaware that Selenay was eavesdropping from the other side of the hedge, “It will give me something to remember when I’m wedded to that awful old man—”

But a Queen couldn’t have flirtations. And of course she knew that only too well. Knowing she couldn’t was bad enough, but being reminded of that fact by someone like Talamir would only make it worse. Her father would have understood; he’d been able to marry for love. He’d always said he didn’t want to see her sacrificed to a marriage of state, but with him gone, and with no telling what needs might arise, she had to count on sacrificing herself.

She felt a lump rising in her throat and closed her eyes against the sting of tears, fighting them back. This was neither the place nor the time to display weakness.

It was at that moment that she felt, with a sense of shock, someone press a folded bit of paper into her hand.

Her eyes flew open in time for her to see Lord Orthallen, removing his hand from hers. Their eyes met, and he nodded gravely, then sat back again.

For one brief moment, an incredulous thought came into her head. A love note? From Orthallen?

No, surely not. He was married. He was older than her father. And besides, every other Councilor would spontaneously combust with rage at the very idea.

She looked down at the scrap of paper, and opened it.

Selenay, you used to call me your “Lord-Uncle,” and told me all your childish woes, she read. And if I have, in recent days, often forgotten that you are no longer my “Little Niece” but my Queen and fully adult, please forgive an old man for clinging to his illusions longer than he should have. I have seen you fall into melancholy more than once these past few days; I think you might be in need of a friend with whom you can unburden yourself freely; if that is the case, will you honor your father’s friend by putting me in that place as he did, so that this old man can begin to see the grown lady of reality instead of the child of the past? Perhaps we can help each other in our shared sorrow.

Selenay blinked. This was unexpected. First of all, Lord Orthallen was, above all else, a very proud man. He seldom apologized. Secondly, he had been one of those on her Council that had seemed the most adamant about keeping her from taking the reins of power into her own hands—

But this was an apology, and a tacit admission that he was ready and willing to see her as the Queen in fact as well as in title.