The king would put Mars upon it and say it was better for Mars to imagine the world from that location.
Now that Mars was king, he left the throne empty when he could. One wall of the enormous chamber was entirely arched windows overlooking an elaborately sculpted garden, and it was here he chose to stand.
The nobility and military of Aremoria arrayed behind Mars were divided in four parts: those who thought the moment to retake Innis Lear was at hand, as the island hung between several rulers like an unstable, overripe peach; those who counseled waiting until next summer even though there would be a new-crowned queen by then, to give Aremoria the winter at least to recover from war with Burgun, to celebrate victory and peace; his sister’s contingent, who suggested he marry Elia as quickly as possible and watch the island from a distance to see where the pieces fell before acting; and then Kay Oak, who alone argued for Aremoria throwing support behind Elia herself, without marriage, to situate her on the throne of Lear and reap the awards of alliance. Alliance not only with Lear, but potentially the Third Kingdom.
Not for the first time, Mars wished the Third Kingdom would agree to a permanent ambassador here in Lionis. Aremoria’s interests were constantly stifled by the empress’s insistence that all trade deals be brokered in her territory. His frustration was probably her goal. If Aremoria grew much richer or stronger, there would be a clearer path to rivaling the empire’s dominance over their neighboring continents. Mars had to send ambassadors to her, receiving none in return, or get nothing. Two countries cushioned the borders of Aremoria and the Third Kingdom, and Mars’s father had occasionally toyed with attacking Ispania or Vitilius in an effort to expand south and southeast against her. But Mars had an excellent relationship with the king’s council of Vitilius, one he was loathe to risk, and Ispania had been conquered and reconquered by the Second and then Third Kingdoms, each time eventually earning independence again. The familial connections between the Third Kingdom and Innis Lear put a handful of his best people on the side of careful marriage and no military involvement should Mars decide to take the island. Nobody wanted to risk the wrath of the empress, but all wanted more power for Aremoria.
The best solution, he thought, was to get the granddaughter of the empress as a wife and queen of Aremoria. Marry Elia, and then take Innis Lear against her elder sisters. After his time there, Mars believed the old king had done him a favor by closing off those holy wells. Innis Lear was ready for change. The people needed it.
As the discussion waged, Mars stood at the grand garden windows, his back to the council, hands folded behind him, staring out at the rows of juniper bushes below, trimmed into spiraled cones. Despite the fraught conversation behind him, his mind was full of deep black eyes and the tremble of the princess’s hand as she held the letters from home.
He had wished to pull Elia against his chest and hold her, comfort her, promise anything she asked. He had wished to take the letters and burn them if she was afraid to read.
“It is not only trade to think about, but security,” Efica, Lady of Knights, broke in. “Burgun holds Innis Lear in his sights, too, and if Aremoria does not seize it, Burgun might try, and with the sponsorship of the Rusrike who have long hunted an opportunity to best Aremoria.”
Mars’s sister, Ianta, asked whether Regan or Gaela might consider a stronger alliance. Kayo insisted Elia was the best and only true road for Aremoria, and Mars silently berated himself for not insisting that the exiled princess be here for this council. She should be speaking for herself. Let them all know what she would even consider with regard to marriage and alliances. But her spirit had seemed withdrawn these past weeks, diminished from the humorous young woman he’d so briefly met at the Summer Seat. Still, she had not lost that quiet core of resolve holding her spine tall, as if she truly were leashed to the stars. She mourned; she longed for her home and father. That was what he told himself.
Mars would not push too soon. But he wanted to marry her. Regardless of how it would necessarily shift his tactics in taking Innis Lear. In fact, Mars found he could not stop circling his thoughts back and back and back around to it: as if nothing else mattered to him as much as Elia Lear.
He could not recall a single time in his adult life when he’d been so tilted by his heart.
Perhaps the strangeness on Innis Lear had infected him. Perhaps she was a fracture in his careful crown.
She would not be happy to know he’d sent Ban Errigal to destabilize her island. To undercut Errigal and find a means of putting an Aremore leash upon the powerful iron magic.
I keep my promises.
“Take the
