Allegiance by Cayla Kluver Page A

during that time our lives fell into something of a pattern. When I awoke, I would breakfast in my quarters, proceed to the Royal Chapel for morning prayer and meet with the household staff in my drawing room. When necessary, I would also meet with the palace scribes to arrange for letters, invitations or announcements to be written and dispatched. In the afternoons, I would meet with visitors or host a small palace function, such as a tea party, then do as I wished—go shopping, walk in the garden, read, work on my embroidery or spend timewith my sister or mother. I would share the evening meal with my family, my father having finally regained pride enough to sit at the same table with me, although Steldor was always too busy to join us, a fact my parents found baffling. Apparently during my father’s reign, the King had never been so consistently occupied. Whether this was a sign that Steldor was inventing excuses to avoid me or that my thickly built father had simply been more devoted to the consumption of food, I could not be certain. I would retire shortly thereafter, to begin the same routine with the rising of the sun.
    I knew little of Steldor’s daily activities, except that he kept exceedingly irregular hours. He sometimes came to our rooms in midevening to change clothes, only to leave again without a word, never returning before I went to bed and yet already departed when I rose in the morning. At other times, he would not return at all at the close of day, and I would instead hear him enter to change clothes at sunrise, then immediately depart to undertake his duties, as if neglecting to sleep for nights on end were the most natural thing in the world. I saw little of him, and we spoke fleetingly at best when our paths did cross.
    Despite our minimal contact, his testiness toward me had noticeably increased since his tender response to my apology—it had begun to seem that, for every nice or sensitive action Steldor took toward me, he felt the need to compensate with a turn for the worse. Needless to say, such fickle behavior did not increase my desire for his company, and he likewise did not, for the time being, seem to yearn for mine. I wondered if he was this variable in temperament with everyone or if he reserved it for me.
    Just a few days before Miranna’s birthday, I visited my favorite retreat, the garden that extended from the rear of thepalace to the northern section of the walled city. At this time of year, the flowers filled the air with a rich fragrance, while the elm, oak, chestnut and mulberry trees offered cooling shade. I walked along one of the footpaths that divided the garden into four sections, listening to the chirping of the birds and letting my mind wander. I stopped to examine one of the four double-tiered marble fountains, its splashing water sparkling in the sunlight, almost hypnotizing in its sound and motion. I became lost in thought, oblivious to my surroundings, until a voice pulled me from my reverie.
    â€œThere you are!” Miranna cried, springing down the garden path toward me, looking cheerful. When she reached me, she took my arm and pulled me toward the palace, speaking so quickly that it took all my concentration to understand her.
    â€œI’ve been searching everywhere for you, Alera! I just spoke to Father, and he hinted that he’s going to make an announcement at my birthday dinner. I hardly dare hope, but I think I know what it will be, in which case this is one birthday I’ll never forget!”
    I didn’t bother trying to persuade her to confide her suspicions, for she would tell me if she wanted me to know. Given her enthusiasm, however, it was easy to guess it involved Lord Temerson, the shy young man in whom she had been interested for almost a year.
    She led me all the way to her quarters, rambling about the need to choose the perfect gown, how her hair had to be styled impeccably and how she needed to decide on both of these