Niya takes the letter and spreads it open for us both to read, Bean crowding over my shoulder to see as well. Ramella has learned recently that she is with child. The other night—wait, what?
“Melly’s pregnant?” Bean sputters at the same time that I go back to reread that sentence. “Oh, Rae, you have to go!”
“She’ll have friends to be with her,” I say almost absently, reading on: it occurred to my cousin that she would enjoy my company in the city over the next few months.
“Friends?” Bean nearly screeches. “Rae! This is Melly! We’re her family.”
I nod, still reading. Filadon is greatly occupied helping with the preparations for the prince’s wedding, as well as other affairs of state, and they would appreciate my presence. Could my parents possibly spare their dear cousin Amraeya through the summer?
“Rae?” Mama asks when I finally look up. “Would you like to go?”
“I don’t know how you can expect me to go now,” I say, disbelief tingeing my words. “I cannot possibly leave Ani, and we’ve the horses to take care of as well.”
“We are Melly’s only family, though,” Mama says. “Think about it.”
“The royal wedding’s coming up,” Bean adds.
“That’s true,” Baba says. “If you leave in the next couple of weeks, you should make it in good time for that.”
“And,” Bean says with growing excitement, “maybe you’ll even meet someone for yourself.”
My laugh comes out as a derisive huff. “Bean. My prospects of marriage are as good here as they are there.”
“How do you know? You’ve never been there. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
“I’ll meet many people,” I agree. “None of whom would marry me. And none of whom I would wish to marry.”
“But . . . ,” she begins.
“I’m a cripple.”
The cold simplicity of my words brings Bean up short.
“It’s just a slight limp,” Niya offers timidly.
“All right. I’m a turnfoot.” It is the same name the village children threw my way when we were young. The same name over which Ani threw her first punch in my defense. The hurt has long gone out of the word, but it doesn’t change the fact that that is how people see me. And the royal palace—where Ramella and Filadon live—is unlikely to be filled with people who appreciate limping peasant girls.
My family has nothing to say in return.
“I can’t leave Ani right now,” I say. If I can’t find Seri, the least I can do is stay by Ani while she grieves. When Mama parts her lips to argue, I add, “And anyhow, there’s Spring Fair to plan for. I always help Baba with that.”
“The fair?” Bean repeats in disbelief. “How can you compare the fair to court?”
“I’m sure there are a good number of pigs in both places,” Baba points out thoughtfully.
“Oh, Baba.” Niya half moans.
“Ani does need you,” Mama says, meeting my gaze. “But let’s not make any decisions quite yet, shall we? Just think about it.”
“All right,” I say, my mind already made up.
Chapter
5
I ride over to see Ani again the following afternoon. Sheltershorn is busy again, though there are still no children visible. But the work of living must go on, and those who dropped everything to help with the search have once more picked up where they left off. Wagons move ponderously through the street again, and a few women have gathered on the corners to share whatever bit of news they’ve come by.
Ani meets me at the door of her house and nearly drags me away. “I need to get out,” she says. “I can’t stand any more aunties right now. Even with all their news.”
“News?”
“It’s strange,” Ani says absently. She sets a pace I can easily match. “Are you all right with a walk?”
“Just fine.” We head down a side street, taking the most direct route out of town possible. When we reach the edge of the plains, I say, “What’s the strange news, then?”
“You know our prince was betrothed to that foreign princess from across the mountains? Turns out the girl that’s been staying in the palace all winter long was an impostor—some noblewoman who didn’t like the true princess and betrayed her along the journey. The story is she used magic to switch places and silence the true princess, and sent her off to work as a goose girl once they arrived in Tarinon. The king only just figured it out.”
“That’s . . . strange.” It sounds like something out of a fireside tale, believable only by the light of the flickering flames. “You’re sure the story hasn’t been blown out of proportion?”
Ani shakes her head. “The king’s couriers brought the news with the mail. They said the impostor’s to be closed into a barrel pounded through with nails and dragged behind a brace of horses till dead.”
“What?” Since when has our king meted out such horrific punishments? He’s known to be proud, certainly, but not cruel.
Ani grimaces. “That’s the punishment the impostor chose for herself, thinking it would be done to the true princess.”
It all sounds very elaborate, and absolutely horrifying. Betrayal and cruelty cloaked as justice, and at the heart of it, magic used as a weapon against the royal family. I hope—oh, how I hope!—they won’t start searching for other hidden magic. At least this impostor came from another land, and not Menaiya itself.
“It’s all the aunties have been talking about today,” Ani says.
“I’m sorry,” I say. How must it feel that Seri’s loss has already been overshadowed by other news?
Ani sighs. “Anyhow, I’m sure you’ll get better details than us. Isn’t your cousin staying at the palace right now?”
I nod. “She is. She’s even invited me to spend the summer there.” Baba had suggested I could make it to the wedding, but I don’t think I want to see a girl who was forced into servitude now be forced into marriage. Unless, I suppose, she wants that future.
“Will you go?”
I look at Ani, but she’s very carefully gazing out over the plains. We’ve
