The Oracle's Queen by Lynn Flewelling Page B

beneath her shift, then let out a frightened sob. “Maker’s Mercy!”
    She was cursed indeed, and a virgin again. That had been the first time she’d thought of the balcony, and the long drop below.
    H er nurse and page never returned. Instead, wrinkled old Tomara was sent up to serve her and keep her company.
    â€œWhere are my own servants?” Nalia demanded angrily.
    â€œI don’t know anything about any other servants, Highness,” the old woman replied. “I was fetched up from the village and told I was to wait on a great lady. I haven’t done since my mistress passed some years ago, but I can still mend and braid. Come now, let me brush out your pretty hair for you, won’t you?”
    Tomara was gentle and neat-handed, and there was nothing in her manner to dislike, but Nalia missed her own servants. She suffered through her toilet, then took her place by the window, trying to see what was going onbelow. She could see riders milling about and hear them on the road beyond the walls.
    â€œDo you know what’s happened?” she asked at last, with no one else to talk to.
    â€œEro’s fallen, and a traitor is trying to claim the throne, Highness,” Tomara told her, looking up from a piece of embroidery. It appeared to be a bridal veil.
    â€œDo you know who Lord Niryn is?”
    â€œWhy, he’s the king’s wizard, lady!”
    â€œWizard?”
For a moment Nalia thought her heart had stopped beating. A wizard. And one powerful enough to serve a king.
    â€œOh, yes! He saved King Korin’s life at Ero and got him away before the Plenimarans could capture him.”
    Nalia considered this, putting it together with the disheveled man who’d come to her last night.
He ran away, this new king of mine. He lost the city and ran away. And I’m the best he can do for a wife!
    The bitter thought was balm on her wounded heart. It gave her the strength not to scream and throw herself at Niryn when he came to her later that morning, to escort her to the priest.
    She had no proper wedding dress. She’d put on the best gown she owned, and the hastily stitched veil Tomara had made for her. She didn’t even have a proper wreath. Tomara brought her a simple circlet of braided wheat.
    There were no gaily attired attendants or musicians, either. Men with swords escorted her to the great hall. The midday light streaming in through the few narrow windows only made the shadows deeper. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she saw that the wedding guests were all soldiers and servants. The priest of Dalna stood by the hearth, and with him were a handful of young nobles, the Companions.
    With no father to speak for her, Nalia was given over by Niryn, and had no choice but to obey. When the blessings had been said and Korin took a jeweled ring from hisown finger and slid it loosely on her own, she found she was a wife, and Princess Consort of Skala.
    Afterward, as they sat over a meager feast, she was introduced to the Companions. Lord Caliel was tall and fair, with a kind, rather sad face. Lord Lutha was hardly more than a boy, gangly and a bit on the homely side, but with such a ready smile that she found herself smiling back and taking his hand. His squire, a brown-eyed boy named Barieus, had the same kind look about him. The two others, Lord Alben and Lord Urmanis, were more what she’d expected; proud and handsome, and doing little to disguise their disdain for her plain looks. Even their squires were rude.
    Finally, Korin presented his swordmaster, a grizzled old warrior named Porion. The man was pleasant and respectful, but hardly more than a common soldier, yet Korin treated him with the utmost respect. Taken all together, with Niryn’s wizards, too, it was an odd assembly that surrounded her young husband. Nalia pondered this as she picked listlessly at her roast lamb.
    When the meal was over she was left to herself in the tower again, until