The Unfortunate, стр. 25

In truth waiting would not be better. She required the cover of night. The queen’s intended destination was, in a way, forbidden. Marlisa had again been required to withhold details to preserve the truth. She did need to clear her mind, but that did not imply she needed to be alone. She desired the company of an old friend who she had known from childhood, an individual who she had devoted more love to than she ever had or ever would to Beadurof.

“Would you have me arrange your departure?”

“That will not be necessary.” It was not the first time Marlisa had departed Caberton Keep after dark, nor was it the first time she had made the handmaiden aware. She knew she could trust the young woman. Jenn would never betray her. She was certain, but she always emphasized a need for discreteness. “All I ask is you do not mention this to anyone. Can I trust you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

✽ ✽ ✽

After Jenn had gone, Marlisa considered the dream about her husband. It was the second time the vision had occurred that day, and it had not been an ordinary dream. She was certain. Without reason to doubt, she knew Fate had delivered the vision, and there was a reason. There had always been a reason. The first time Marlisa had received nocturnal visions of this type had been nearly twenty years prior, and she had little difficulty recalling.

She had seen a small merchant vessel leaving a far-away port. The sun had been rising, and it had illuminated the mainland with brilliant yellows and oranges, but the scenes revealed had been anything but tranquil. There had been absolute destruction and turmoil. Marlisa had looked from the vessel to the shore and back numerous times before being overcome with sadness. Despite her thoughts the queen had been unable to discover why those feelings had consumed her. She had been unable to make sense of the dream. Even after she had awakened, she had continued to think about the boat, and she had continued to search for a meaning.

It had not been until the next week that Marlisa had realized the importance of the vision. Although it was not a regular habit, Marlisa had gone to the market in the city. She had not been there long when she had been approached by a woman who carried a child in her arms.

“Help us, Queen Marlisa.”

The woman’s accent hinted that she was from the lands across the Slender Sea. Thus, having never seen the her before, Marlisa had inquired, “How do you know my name?”

Rather than provide an answer, the strange woman had further explained, “My husband, King Aengus of Drunacht, was overjoyed when he learned I was with child, but the truth is he wanted a son. When I gave birth to a girl, I knew I would have to act quickly to save her life. If my husband had learned of the birth, he would have had her murdered out of spite, and I would have been cast aside—If not murdered, too—for not being able to provide a male heir. My daughter and I had to leave our homeland. We gained passage across the Slender Sea on a small merchant vessel.” The woman had paused momentarily before concluding, “We cannot return to Drunacht. If we do go back, we shall both be executed. Please. Help us begin life anew.”

Marlisa had never been to Drunacht, but because of the mention of King Aengus, she had known who the woman was. “Aurnia, yes?”

The woman nodded. “That is my name, but no one can know I am, rather was, the queen of Drunacht or that my daughter lives.”

“I shall not betray you.” She looked to the infant girl and smiled. “And your daughter? What is her name?”

“Jenniver.”

Marlisa had been initially hesitant until she had realized what was occurring. She had begun to sense the same sadness that had occurred in her vision. Because of the current diplomatic relations, the queen had known her husband would have disapproved. And for that reason, she had chosen not to consult Beadurof and to see to the matter herself.

As for the second vision, it had not occurred until over a year later. It had transpired weeks away from the birth of her first child. The dream, while having been only brief, had begun with a blinding light, and Marlisa had been quick to shield her eyes. The light had never diminished, and it had soon been accompanied by a feminine tone.

“You will give birth to a son,” the voice had revealed. “But he will be unworthy of your husband’s title. He will be a curse, and he will be the bringer of distress. His life will be a plague of grief to all, but you will suffer most. You will be the most unfortunate.” After having delivered the warning, the voice had faded and so did the light.

The queen had awakened with a determination to see that the words would not come to pass. She had been determined not to be the most unfortunate. When she had approached her husband, however, Beadurof had not accepted the warning as truth.

“What you claim is nonsense!” he had exclaimed.

“I fear to discredit this warning would be to ignore Fate.”

Beadurof had simply grunted.

“Please. I beg you. Heed this warning.” She had become desperate, unable to think of anything except the prophesy of the cursed child that grew stronger each day within her womb. “Please, Husband. It is too great a risk.”

Beadurof had finally expressed a hint of understanding, but there had also been reluctance.

“If this is Fate’s will”—she had taken Beadurof’s hand—“we cannot be defiant.”

A lengthy duration of uncomfortable silence had elapsed before the king had nodded. “You claimed this voice warned of my downfall? That the child would be my ruin?”

Downfall? Ruin? Those had been the words Marlisa had told Beadurof, but they had not been expressed in her dream. They had been the only words, however, that her husband