The Unfortunate, стр. 29
Even though a question had not been posed, the prince still nodded. It was a subject rarely discussed but one that could be neither ignored nor treated as if it did not occur. The killing of a defeated ruler’s heirs was an unfortunate part of war. It was a practice to ensure the victors would not be challenged, that there was no risk of losing the throne.
“My father did not require a victory to murder,” Jenn added. “He determined his own reasons, and one of those was receiving a daughter.”
Banan was disgusted, and his expression reflected the feeling. “How could a man kill his own child? And why would the act have been allowed to pass without consequence? I am certain King Aengus would have done something.”
Jenn smiled. “I doubt my father would have punished himself.”
It took a moment for the realization to occur, and when it did the prince was dumbfounded. Banan was reminded of the previous occasions when he had mentioned Jenn’s homeland and how she had always answered the same. I shall never return to my native land.
He had never understood the woman’s reluctance, but the mystery was no more. With wide eyes and a slight gape, he continued to glance from the handmaiden, to his mother, and back, but he finally managed to speak. “Is this true? That you are the daughter of King Aengus?”
“Yes,” Jenn answered sternly as if she wished it were not so.
“Why have you never told me?”
“Nobody knows,” the queen explained. “Not even Beadurof. Had I told him, he would not have allowed Jenn to be my handmaiden let alone stay in Armania. You know he has always distrusted the people of Drunacht.”
Banan nodded, but it was clear he was still processing the news. “Why do you tell me now?” he eventually inquired. “Did you not indicate there was a reason? Something involving diplomatic relations?”
“Yes, with Drunacht,” his mother clarified.
“How so? Unless I still misunderstand, Jenn’s relation to the king of Drunacht will not influence or prevent my betrothal.”
His mother smiled. “It could … given favorable circumstances.”
“Such as?” Banan was expecting his mother to answer, but it was Jenn who made reply.
“Events that would give reason for the wedding to be delayed and that would forever change the Known Realms.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The plan his mother had explained was composed of multiple phases. Each would have to occur at a specific time, and most relied on the success of a previous step. Although it was not beyond the limits of possibility, there would be many risks, but before any further actions could occur, however, Banan would have to convince his father that he had accepted the betrothal. Even as the heir prince, there was nothing he could do to alter his father’s decision, but that was no longer important. All he could do was assure his father that he would not resist, and that he would willingly marry Eadlin. He needed to revisit the king and repeat what his mother had instructed him to recall—that his reaction had been immature, that after lengthy consideration, he had accepted the betrothal, and that he was anticipating the marriage that would, Fate willing, secure a lasting bond between Armania and Yorcia. It would be a lie, and he dreaded having to speak the words, but he knew it was necessary for the plan to succeed.
When Banan entered his father’s study, the king was busy sorting through a stack of dust-ridden parchment, and he did not notice or at least did not act as if he detected the prince’s company. Banan closed the door and remained still momentarily before clearing his throat and declaring, “I wish to have words.”
“What does this concern?” the king asked gruffly, refusing to make eye contact. “Have you returned to further condemn my decision?”
“No, Father. My reaction was selfish and immature. I accept the betrothal, and I am anticipating the marriage that will, Fate willing, secure a lasting bond between Armania and Yorcia.”
“Good.” The king finally turned and offered a slight smile, likely a result of personal satisfaction rather than a sign of accepting forgiveness.
Although he had repeated the words his mother had scripted for him, Banan still sensed more was needed to obtain his father’s trust. “I consent to your judgement. I shall marry Eadlin, and I am certain I shall grow to love her.”
“Good,” his father again answered with a more relaxed tone. “As I indicated earlier, it will strengthen our relations with Yorcia. King Ryce’s daughter is more fit to be your wife than that serving wretch.”
A storm of emotions once again mounted. A serving wretch? The words, especially the way his father had enunciated them, annoyed Banan to the extent that he wanted to release the wrath of his inner tempest. But he instead remained composed and nodded sternly, reminding himself it was not the time for anger. Despite being able to hide his feelings, the prince was bothered even more by the thought and the words that formed his false but more than necessary reply. “It was a momentary youthful fault that should have never occurred. Jenniver is nothing to me.”
“I am glad you have come to your senses,” his father answered cheerfully, too much so.
To Banan it was too sudden a change of emotion. Did Father believe the lie, or is it only an act?
There was little time to ponder the possibility further before the king added, “As you know I have been in contact with King Ryce, and he, too, is anticipating this marriage to serve as a lasting bond.”
“When will the wedding occur?” Banan forced himself to ask, forced himself to smile.
“I shall depart for Yorcia within a fortnight, and I shall escort Eadlin from Ebordum back here to Caberton Keep.”
The absence of his father was