Reign of the Eagle, page 179
Irena selected a half-mask, a thick blonde wig, and a fake mole, which she put on her right cheek. Then she went to the Forum Rubrum, one of the big public squares, and fought the crowds celebrating there to get up to Elwyn’s building on the Via Clarissa.
There should have been an Immani legionnaire at every door, protecting the princess. But so many people were in the streets, and so many of Elwyn’s guests were coming down to the side alleys to puke or make out, that Irena had little trouble in finding a side door and sneaking in.
Upstairs it was a typical Immani party, which meant lots of wine and lots of naked flesh. This was the sort of thing she would have enjoyed, once upon a time. But now she found it all desperate and sad. All these people, struggling and humiliating themselves for a fleeting moment of pleasure. It wasn’t even worth getting mad about. Irena felt sorry for them all. And she prayed Edwin hadn’t turned into one of them.
She went through the apartment, past girls dancing naked in the foyer, past boys kissing in the kitchen, past a group smoking opium together in the front parlor. At the drinks table in the hall, she took a glass of excellent Thessalian Argitis, and then froze when she heard her own name. Looking quickly over her shoulder, she saw four Immani girls giggling together. Two of them had gone to school with her.
“Fuck me, I feel sorry for the man,” said one of her old schoolmates. “Can you imagine being married to that awful harpy?”
“Gods, what a bitch,” said another girl. “She thinks she’s so fucking special. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m a queen now.’ As if she’s the queen of more than a single villa.”
It felt like a punch to the stomach. “They hate me,” she thought. “They hate me, and I never did anything to them.”
But she knew she wasn’t blameless where Edwin was concerned. She had mocked him and tortured him. She had made him lust after her. And now she was reaping that harvest, good and hard.
She rushed away into a corner, where she could clasp her hands together and bow her head. “Oh, Earstien,” she silently prayed, “please let it not be too late. Please let me get him back. I’m so sorry I took him for granted.”
Then from down the hall, she heard her husband’s voice coming from the master bedroom. “I don’t understand,” he was saying. “You invited me, and then this is how you receive me?”
“I’m sorry.” This was Elwyn’s voice, drunk and slurring. “I wanted you to come, but then you weren’t here for the first two hours, and I...I thought you weren’t coming, Edwin.”
Irena chanced a peek, and what she saw nearly floored her. Elwyn was lying in bed, a blanket pulled up to hide the fact that she was obviously naked. On one side of her lay a big, strapping Odelandic fellow. On the other side, giggling nervously, sat two of the kitchen maids from the Villa Cedra.
“You’re unbelievable,” Edwin snapped. “Here I thought we would get a chance to talk. But apparently not.” He turned and rushed out of the room, and Irena hid her face as he stormed past her.
Elwyn, holding a blanket over herself for modesty, stumbled out into the hall, only a couple yards from Irena. “Edwin!” she cried. “Edwin, I’m sorry. I....” Her voice faltered, and she turned back to her bedroom. In a low voice that probably no one was supposed to hear, she added, “I am such a fucking disaster. It’s no wonder he hates me.”
At first, Irena was thrilled to hear this. But then, out of nowhere, she was struck with a feeling of sympathy for the princess. The woman was a terrible bitch, and a whore, as well. But people seemingly said that about Irena, as well.
She tottered down the stairs as fast as she could, and then rushed through back lanes to the Villa Cedra. On the way, she bowed her head and prayed, “Let Elwyn find peace, but let her find it far from Edwin.”
THERESE
“So what are you making now?” Therese asked.
Broderick Byrne, Donella’s two-year-old son, looked up from the blocks he was piling together. “Castle?” he ventured.
“Excellent idea,” said Therese. She picked up another box of the brightly-colored blocks and went to sit by Broderick on the floor. “Let’s see how high we can make this before it falls over.”
It didn’t get very high. The boy quickly discovered the joy of knocking the towers over, and the game became seeing how far he could make the blocks scatter across the nursery.
She was glad the blocks were proving so popular. She and her mother-in-law had been dazed by the sheer variety of blocks and bricks and other sorts of building toys. It would have been sad to have picked the wrong kind.
Little Broderick was here today to help Therese test the newly-renovated nursery and all the new toys. And also because his mother was down at the army camps again, having a look around, as she had promised Therese.
The boy abandoned the blocks to try out the rocking horse in the corner. Only a few minutes later, Donella returned, dressed in baggy riding trousers and a man’s tunic.
“Oh, look at you!” she cried. “Riding like a big, strong knight!” She kissed her son, but let him keep rocking away.
“He has an excellent seat,” Therese observed.
“He’s a natural, no doubt,” said Donella. “Or at least he looks as if he’s not going to fall off.” She nodded toward the far corner of the room, where the storybooks and stuffed animals were kept, and Therese joined her there a moment later.
“So?” Therese asked, clutching her hands nervously to her chest.
“I went all around the camp again. I watched my brother. I poked around his command tent. I talked to some of his knights, and William Trevelyan and a couple of the other commanders. I still can’t find any evidence that he’s seeing a woman down there.” Donella patted Therese on the shoulder. “I’ve been there three times now. You’re safe.”
“Oh, thank Earstien,” sighed Therese, as tears started to well up. “I feel so stupid for making you do this. I feel like a fool for doubting him. I almost feel like I’ve been unfaithful.”
“Nonsense. You have every right to know what your husband is up to.” Donella lowered her voice. “And anyway, I’ve been having a lot of fun doing it. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I actually quite like dressing up as a man.” She gave Therese a long hug, and then she collected a reluctant little Broderick from the rocking horse. “It’s almost time for someone’s nap. I’d better get him home now.”
She left, and Therese was putting away the blocks when her mother-in-law stopped by.
“Ah, the nursery has been given a seal of approval, then,” Muriel said, smiling. “Excellent.”
“Yes, it looks like we managed to pick the right toys, ma’am.”
“H’m. How very gratifying.” She came over and perched on the window seat next to where Therese was sitting on the floor. “By the way, I don’t know if you listen to court gossip—it’s a terrible habit, but one hears things, you know.”
“Um...yes.”
“So have you heard the rumor about what your husband is doing down in the army camps?”
Therese folded her hands on her lap. “Which rumors, exactly?”
“The ones about Daria Lucowitz.” The queen’s lips twitched up in a tiny smile. “I do hate to say, ‘I told you so,’ my dear girl. There is little pleasure in being right when it causes pain to those we care about.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“How sweet of you.” Muriel sat back and sighed. “Ah, little Daria. So very pretty. So witty and accomplished. Such an air of sophistication. She was at the Odelandic court in Lebenstadt for two years before coming here, you know. You can imagine all the little...tricks the girl picked up there.”
“I’m sorry, but I still don’t believe it.” Therese wondered if she should tell the queen about Donella’s trip to the army camp. She decided not to mention it. No need to get Donella in trouble with her mother over something so stupid.
“You’re very trusting,” said Muriel. “I wish I could be that way. Daria has half a dozen lords and knights wrapped around her little finger, you know. She’s been proposed to at least ten times that I know of. But she keeps turning everyone down. Almost as if she has her eyes on a much bigger prize, if you take my meaning.”
“I don’t care. Broderick would never do something like that.”
“I like to keep track of the rumors about my ladies. I like to know their reputations and their...purported talents. As you know, I’m not one of those prudish old bitches who insists on rigid chastity among my ladies.” The queen gazed out of the window with a thoughtful frown. “Now, you, of course, were widely known to be a ‘good girl.’ That’s one of the things that made me so very cross when you...did what you did.”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” said Therese, feeling her face getting warm.
“Daria isn’t quite so dull. Supposedly she does this one thing with her tongue.” Muriel wiggled a finger back and forth, twisting it around like a top. “I’m not sure exactly how it works, but I understand that her skills are very highly rated. It almost makes one wish one had a cock, to find out what it’s like. I imagine any young man would be curious. Even your husband.” Her smile returned. “One might almost say, especially your husband. It must be quite exciting for him to be with a girl who has so much practical experience.”
“Pardon me.” Therese got unsteadily to her feet. “I...I’m sorry, ma’am, but I think I will be going now.”
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I’m quite sure he still loves you. But that is my point, Therese. Love and sex aren’t the same thing. You have to keep that in mind if you want to be happy in your marriage. In fact, once you’ve had your son and the succession is secure, and once you’ve recovered from the birth, I’d be happy to introduce you to some discreet young men who could show you all sorts of exciting new things.”
“I really don’t think that will be necessary,” said Therese. She curtsied. “Thank you, but I believe I need to go lie down for a while.” Then she hurried away. She felt like she was either going to be sick or break down in tears, and she didn’t want to do either in front of Muriel.
IRENA
She had thought that Edwin would never go back to Elwyn’s apartment after the Solstice party, but she had thought wrong. Somehow that bitch still had a hold on him, and he kept going there, over and over again, even though he almost always came back angry. He and Elwyn were still fighting, which would have been cause for celebration, except that now he was fighting all the time with Irena, too.
One morning, after they had shouted at each other about how late Edwin had returned the night before, Irena told him, as she always did, that Elwyn was a deviant and a whore.
Edwin glared at her and said, “That’s probably so, but she was right about you. I wish I’d listened to her.”
She demanded to know what he meant by that, but he stormed out of the room rather than answering. And really, he didn’t need to explain. It was clear enough what he had meant: Elwyn had told him not to marry Irena.
“He wishes he hadn’t married me,” she thought, horrified.
She needed to talk to someone, but she had very few friends anymore. She didn’t want to talk with Rohesia, because of course the woman would take Edwin’s side. She didn’t want to talk to her own mother, either, because that would turn into a lecture about how you had to make allowances for foreigners and their weird ideas. So, Irena went to see her father, instead.
He was spending the day at one of the legionary camps outside town, inspecting the troops. When he saw Irena’s face, though, he asked the Military Legate to borrow his office and took her in there. She eased herself into one of the big, gilded camp chairs, and he perched on the huge mahogany desk in front of her.
“Well? What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look like you did when your dog died.”
“I think I’ve ruined my marriage.” Crying, she told him everything that had happened, and how Edwin was obsessed with his sister. “And now he hates me,” she said.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said, as he passed her a handkerchief.
“But it is!” she wailed. “He’s going to all these wild parties that she throws, and Earstien only knows what he’s doing over there.”
Her father sighed. “I think you’ll find that all Ivichs are hypocrites, to one degree or another. They all want the same things everyone does, but their religion requires them to pretend that they don’t. They can’t come out and admit it, the way we do. I know you’ve converted, but please don’t adopt that attitude. From what I’ve observed, it makes them miserable.”
“So if I shouldn’t behave like an Ivich, what’s the Immani thing to do?” She looked up hopefully, dabbing at her eyes.
“Give him some distraction. Give him an outlet for his urges. Obviously, you can’t do much of that at the moment, so find a reliable girl who can do it for you. Someone you can trust who won’t let him fall in love with her.”
Irena gasped. “You mean...you mean buy him a whore? Father, that’s disgusting!”
“That’s your Ivich side talking. Where’s my little girl who went to her first orgy the day she came of age?”
Actually, her first orgy had been two years earlier; her parents still didn’t know about that one. She had been so proud of that, but it revolted her now. “I...I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything except find the girl. It’s up to you, but I would recommend asking one of the Emissariae. Those girls are very pretty, very competent, and very discreet.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Do it soon, Irena. It might be your only chance to save your marriage.”
Irena went home more worried than before. Her thoughts were a constant jumble of Ivich and Immani, of her old life she had left behind, and the new life she was trying to have for her family. Her heart told her that her father’s advice was stupid, and she would lose Edwin if she tried it. But she was already losing Edwin. She was desperate, and she knew if she did nothing, their marriage would be over. What would she do without him? What would their poor child do?
No, she had to save her marriage, and if this was the only way to keep Edwin from falling into Elwyn’s web again, then so be it.
That evening, she went looking for Callista and found her discussing the latest messages with Edwin’s mother. Queen Rohesia had two letters in her hands, looking back and forth between them with a frown.
“I had gotten used to Faustinus and Moira writing joint letters to us since their wedding. But now they’re writing separately again.” Rohesia glanced up at the Emissaria. “They’re writing from entirely different provinces, in fact. There’s nothing...wrong...between them, is there?”
“It’s simply the requirements of the service,” Callista replied. “I’m sure it’s temporary. They’ll be back together after these assignments, no doubt.”
“Excuse me, can I have a word?” Irena asked. She took Callista out into the garden, as far from the house as she could get on her aching legs. “I have a favor to ask you,” she said. “It’s rather...unusual, I’m afraid.”
“Anything I can do to help, your majesty,” the girl said brightly, dropping into a low bow.
“I need you to seduce my husband.” Then she explained about Edwin needing an “outlet for his urges” while she was pregnant. “He keeps going to Elwyn’s parties, and there are all those whores and dancing girls over there. It’s better if he has someone I know. Someone I can trust.”
Callista didn’t seem entirely thrilled with the idea, and she said she would only do it under two conditions: “First, that your husband knows I have your approval for doing this, and second, that you be the one to tell him so.”
Irena cringed at the thought of actually facing Edwin and saying the words out loud. “Can I write it in a letter?”
After some consideration, Callista agreed this was a reasonable compromise. So, Irena went inside and wrote the oddest letter she had ever written. The whole time she was doing it, she kept thinking, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe it.”
Then Callista took the letter and went across the courtyard to the little office where Edwin was working on his correspondence. Irena was shocked by the suddenness of it all. Twice she almost called out for Callista to come back.
Back in her dressing room, Irena waited, kneading her hands together and pacing back and forth. “She’ll return in a minute or two,” she told herself. “He’ll never agree to do this.” No doubt he would look at the letter, realize how desperate he had made her, and come rushing over to say that he loved her.
But he didn’t. And Callista didn’t return, either. After a few minutes, Irena couldn’t stand it anymore, and she tiptoed around the courtyard. The door was shut, and the blinds were drawn, but there was a tiny crack at the bottom where she could peek in.
He was sitting on the edge of the desk—her husband, her Edwin. His trousers were open, and Callista had him in her mouth. Irena could tell, from her own considerable experience, that the girl was very, very good at what she was doing.
As Irena watched, Callista rose and stripped off her own clothes. Blast it all, but she was beautiful—completely flawless, in fact. Then she pushed Edwin back on the desk and climbed up to straddle him.
“Are you really sure Irena is alright with this?” Edwin said, his voice strained.
“Of course,” Callista simpered. “You read the letter. She wants you to do this. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your wife, would you?”
Irena couldn’t watch anymore. Stifling a cry of despair, she rushed away, desperate to be anywhere else in the world. She went out to the garden and sat there, feeling miserable. Feeling sick. It felt like her stomach was being tied in knots.
No, not in her stomach. Lower. And in her back too. Like cramps. Irena was so upset that only after the pain had come and gone several times did she understand what was happening. Then she felt the dampness.
“Oh, Earstien,” she gasped, struggling to her feet. “Oh, Earstien, this is it.”
