Quintana of Charyn

‘Did he just roll his eyes at me?’ she asked the others.

‘I’ll be back in two weeks!’ Froi said.

‘Yes, I think you said that last time we sent you off to meet with Gargarin of Abroi and he cast a spell on you,’ she said.

Froi held out a hand to her and she looked away.

‘I don’t shake hands. I’m not a Charynite.’

He sighed and dismounted, embracing her.

‘Trust me when I say that Gargarin of Abroi’s spell has well and truly worn off.’

Chapter 46

Phaedra and Grijio reached the rocky outcrop that marked the beginning of the road from Alonso to the Lumateran valley. They had left the Citavita days ago and Phaedra’s heart had hardened the further they travelled away from the palace. She didn’t know what faced her in the valley. It had been more than six months since she left and she was frightened that everything had changed. But how could it have stayed the same, when she herself had changed? Who was Phaedra of Alonso after all this time? She had lived her entire existence as a lastborn, controlled by Quintana of Charyn’s curse.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to visit your father?’ Grijio asked as they glimpsed the walls of Alonso in the distance.

Phaedra nodded. ‘I need to write to him first. There is much distance between us and it won’t be solved with a visit.’

They continued riding towards the valley and she felt the anger build up inside her.

‘I hate her,’ she suddenly announced.

Grijio stared at her, taken aback by the outburst.

‘You don’t mean that,’ he said patiently.

‘Oh, I do,’ Phaedra said. ‘She’s cruel and she’s cold and she doesn’t understand love. Look at the way she treated you, Grijio. You come for a visit and she sends you away instantly.’

Grijio shrugged. ‘I can see her anytime. Gargarin’s offered me a place in the palace as an envoy. And anyway, I jumped at the chance to see Froi.’

Grijio dismounted his horse and shuffled through his pack. When he found what he was looking for, he held out a letter to her.

Phaedra recognised the writing and she refused to take it. She refused to be controlled by another’s cruel plan, or by a pledge made before she was born. But Grijio continued to hold out his hand.

‘Quintana gave me four absolute instructions,’ he said firmly. ‘And I’m not to return until my work is done.’

Phaedra walked away and sat on the rock face that gave her a view of the caves. On a clear day, she’d be able to see Alonso to the west, and she wondered if she would be better off there. Grijio came to sit beside her, taking her hand and placing the letter there.

‘She’s playing with you, Grijio,’ Phaedra warned. ‘It’s what she’ll do now with the little power she has.’

‘If you say another word, Phaedra, I think you’ll have much regret,’ he said sadly.

Phaedra refused to open the letter. In the distance she could see Lucian’s mountain and she kept her gaze fixed ahead. The sun was setting early and her body was beginning to feel the cold and all she could think of was Lucian’s fleece that made him resemble a bear.

‘Did I tell you that once I sat out on a rooftop in early winter and got a chill and almost died?’ Grijio said with an exaggerated sniff. ‘We’re very fragile, us lastborns.’

She glanced at him and could see that, despite the soft, fair curls and gentle face, this lad was steadfast in his decisions and she knew he would not move until she read the letter. So she opened it.

Dearest Phaedra,

I asked Grij not to give this to you until you reached the ridge before the valley, so you wouldn’t turn back. Because I know you well, and I couldn’t bear you not taking the journey back to the valley where I know you belong.

I remember on the day I was separated from Froi outside Paladozza, I learnt that I could be loved. That was his greatest gift to me. From you, I learnt that I could love my people. Don’t ever underestimate the power of that. I needed to learn. How can I guide the little King without that lesson?

We speak the words gods’ blessed again and again in this kingdom. I’m not sure what they mean. But know this. That what you have in spirit is a gift indeed, Phaedra of Alonso. It’s a true blessing from the gods. It’s one I will be grateful for each day of my life. My king will be raised with the privilege of his mother having known you.

When I saw the list of consorts I knew I would never have true happiness in my spousal bed. But you love your Mont, Phaedra. So it’s only fair that one of us finds deep happiness. You said repeatedly that you’d never leave me and I knew you’d keep that pledge. But what I feared most is that you’d come to hate me for trapping you in the Citavita.

As I write this I feel as if I’m broken in all these pieces that only you and Froi and little Tariq can put together. I will miss your presence every day of my life.

Quintana of Charyn

Phaedra stared at the words. Read them again and again. She scrambled to her feet, hurried to her horse and mounted it.

‘Take me back, Grijio. I’m begging you.’

Grijio shook his head and got to his feet.

‘She said that if I returned you to her, she’d never speak to me again.’

‘Take me back,’ she cried. ‘Please. You don’t know her, Grij. You don’t know how lonely she can get.’

‘I’ve lost too many friends, Phaedra,’ he said. ‘Through betrayal or distance or circumstance. I couldn’t bear to lose her.’

Grijio was resolute as he mounted his horse. ‘My pledge to Quintana was that I’d get you to your valley.’

They arrived later that afternoon and her heart leapt to see the busyness of the camp dwellers’ day from where they were standing on the path behind the caves. Their lives seemed full of talk. It’s what she had noticed these past months. That Charynites had found their voices. But she wondered how long the valley dwellers would stay here. Perhaps a new Charyn meant there was a place for them across the kingdom. Gargarin’s focus was to bring the dry lands back to life for farming. It would take the pressure off the overcrowded provinces. In the months to come when children were born to this valley, the people would have to leave and find a home, not a temporary camp. Phaedra wondered what would become of them all.

She led Grijio between the caves and saw Cora and Jorja in a vegetable patch crowded with produce and colour. Close by, a few of the men were roasting a boar on a spit, and women were scrubbing clothes by the stream. Phaedra’s heart leapt to see one or two of the camp dwellers with swollen bellies. She gave a sob of laughter, and then someone pointed up to where she sat astride the horse, and as Phaedra dismounted, the valley dwellers rushed to greet her from caves above and below. Cora and Jorja heard the commotion and turned and suddenly she was running towards them and she was clasped in their arms weeping.

‘Look at you,’ Jorja said.

‘You’ve a bit more weight,’ Cora joined in.

‘Well, there’s a bit more food to be had in the palace,’ Phaedra laughed, looking back to search for Grijio.

‘How is she?’ Jorja asked. ‘How are they both? Is he as beautiful as they say?’

Phaedra held a hand to her chest. More tears because there would never be words to describe the little King.

‘Enough of the crying,’ Cora snapped, but she hugged Phaedra all the same.