Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

39

"I'm not sure how I could possibly choose," said Mhera. "On one hand, there's Lord Telach, who introduced himself to us by calling me a whore. I cannot imagine his suit is in earnest; we've stripped him of his land and titles, surely he cannot think...and then there's this Lord Naurin, who is—how old is he, do you think?"

Matei considered the question before answering, picturing Naurin's face in his mind. "Not a day younger than seventy, or I'll eat my boot," he said.

"Somewhere close to thrice my age, then." Mhera looked down at her writing desk, which was littered with letters formally requesting her hand. "There's this one. Keidara Elsha b'Dannarin. He writes from Myori."

Matei leaned over the desk and picked up the letter, skimming the first couple of lines and then squinting at the signature. "A graceful hand," he observed. "I believe Elsha is a woman's name in Myori. Keidara translates to princess."

Mhera raised her brows and snatched back the letter. "I had forgotten you studied Myorish. I cannot say I am much of a romantic, but of all of these, Princess Elsha is the front-runner."

Settling back into his chair again, Matei fixed Mhera with an incredulous look. "I never thought you would give a woman your heart."

"You never knew me when I was old enough to give my heart to anyone," replied Mhera. "And her words are extremely flattering. 'She with hair like starlight spun into silk of silver?' She's clearly never seen an accurate likeness of me."

"I wonder, does she give lessons in flattery and flirtation?" Matei reached for the letter, a playful smirk on his face.

Snatching the page away from his grasp, Mhera grew serious. "The fact of the matter is that there's very little about this business that has to do with hearts. It's best not to pretend otherwise."

"Still—a foreign princess?"

With a sigh, Mhera folded Elsha's letter and laid it aside. "Matei, the intent here is clear. The former High Councilors have come round to putting up with you as the emperor for now; they have little choice. But it is no secret that they intend to be through with you as soon as they can. Were I to marry one of these Starborn noblemen, everything we have accomplished would be unraveled as soon as he got a son on me."

For Mhera, those words were obscene, but Matei didn't even blink—he was too surprised by her perception; he had been thus surprised often of late, when Mhera unpicked the truth behind a thread of conversation or a frustratingly tactful letter with a keenness he thought must be uncommon to noblewomen raised to marry and mother. It was no secret that the noblemen on the council hated him more than they hated the thought of a woman on the throne. With the full picture thus brought into focus, Matei grimaced. "Mhera..."

"Don't deny it. I was born a royal woman, and I know my lot: I am nothing but chattel. Had things worked out differently, I would already be wed to one of them. The matter has simply been delayed due to circumstance. As soon as I bear a son to one of these men, your legitimacy as the Emperor of Penrua can be questioned. There would be a true-born heir, one without the taint of Arcborn blood."

"One who would not be a bastard."

"I hate to hear you called that, but it's true. You've no doubt noticed that they are in no hurry to marry you off, Matei. I think it's clear by now that if we hoped the true thread of your family's line would lend you legitimacy in the eyes of a modern people, those hopes have been soundly dashed. If I bear a child before you do, they will have their heir and their reason to unseat you—and all the better if you have no children at all, no matter how tenuous their claim to the throne might be in the eyes of the Starborn people. You can't say I'm wrong."