Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

42

Mhera's mother, Princess Mharin, was Emperor Korvan's sister. Her husband, Joris, was an ambassador to the far reaches of the empire and to nations beyond. Ever since Mhera had been very small, both of her parents had traveled hither and thither at the emperor's bidding, seldom staying more than a week at a time in the palace. This distance had left Mhera without a strong relationship with her parents; they had left her in the care of nursemaids and later in the capable hands of her governess, Madam Gella. Even when Mhera had been afflicted with the dark curse of the Sight, her parents had been informed of the emperor's decision to send her to the Haven as an afterthought, and Mhera had sensed from their intermittent letters, which were of little substance, that they were untroubled by having their daughter neatly stored away.

Even still, Mhera might have forgiven their emotional and physical distance; having never benefited from a close relationship with her parents, she had always wished for one without ever truly understanding what she was missing. She was a royal child, after all, and it was not the culture among the high-born for parents to dote upon their children. Perhaps she had been jealous of her three cousins' strong bonds with their mother; but she had had Korvan, who'd treated her in many ways like a daughter, reserving for her the affections he had always been loath to turn upon his sons. She had had Madam Gella, who had raised her firmly, but not unkindly. And she'd had Koreti.

No, it was not Mharin and Joris's absence throughout her childhood and adolescence that troubled Mhera. What did—what she did not think she could forgive, and what she had dwelt much upon since the day she had been saved from the executioner's blade—was her parents' silence in the aftermath of the war.

They had not been in the city when Mhera and Matei had been imprisoned, and Mhera understood that they could not have come to speak on her behalf; things had happened so quickly, and it might have taken days or weeks for word to reach the ambassador, wherever he had been. Trade and communications had been sorely disrupted. But before she had been imprisoned, Mhera had been kidnapped, stolen away by the Rebel King. Had her parents known? Had they missed her? And since the rebellion had reached its fiery crescendo and the city had fallen to the Arcborn, autumn had given way to winter, and the weeks had passed without word from her parents...had they been unable to speak, or unwilling?

As much as a small, distant part of her craved answers to these questions, she did not relish the conversation to come.

Matei led the way back into Mhera's bedchamber from the balcony. She stopped just inside the doors to close them, and when she turned around, she saw that Matei had retrieved Mhera's silver circlet from its velvet cushion. He came toward her and set it gently upon her head. "You had better wear this," he said as he adjusted it carefully. He was already wearing his, which was of gold.

Mhera and Matei did not usually wear these symbols of their office unless they were convening with the Council or appearing in public. And these visitors were her parents, after all—why should she cling to a symbol of authority when meeting them? Even so, for reasons Mhera would not have been able to explain, Matei's advice made perfect sense. Princess Mharin was a remnant of a reign that had fallen, and no one could know how the meeting might go. She had not been a powerful figure in Korvan's dynasty, but she was a royal woman all the same.

Mhera felt sick with anxiety. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

"Don't worry. I'm coming with you," Matei said.

Mhera spared a glance for him. "I don't know if that reassures me."

"And I'm not sure if I should be offended at that." He smiled, apparently trying to lighten the mood, but Mhera could tell he was as uneasy as she.

Matei led the way out of Mhera's rooms. In the hallway, Captain Alban was waiting for them. With him were two Starborn palace guards and two Arcborn soldiers; under Alban and Uachi's leadership, the patrols and security complements had been haphazardly integrated, and it still struck Mhera as odd and almost humorous to see the liveried Starborn guardsmen standing alongside grim-faced Arcborn rebels in dun and forest green. The group of them flanked Matei and Mhera at a soft word from Alban, and the party moved on down the hall.