Cold Hands, Warm Heart

SIXTEEN

Gwyneira pulled me in for a kiss, but pulled away after a moment, favoring a hug instead. "I am so, terribly sorry for what happened," she said, apologizing again.

"Hush," I whispered. "You are not in the wrong. You saved me from exile. I should be thanking you."

"I suppose you are correct. My father is the one who charged you, not me. He was looking to blame anyone, and he chose you. You see, that doctor, Dr. Sot, has worked for our family for two decades. My father refuses to see him as in the wrong."

"I forgive you and your father. Well, you a little more than the Grand Duke."

She rolled her eyes. "I meant to find an excuse to get my parents out of my palace. They will depart in the morning."

"Are you positive? Where will they go?"

"Without a doubt. Lord and Lady Sveinn are surely grieving, and the company will do them good."

I nodded. The parents of both Gwyneira and her husband will be good for each other.

"Where would I have gone if you banished me?" I asked. "What's on the outside of Sancia?"

"A small, rural country, south of Sylvaine—called Gulsahro. It's a wasteland, essentially. Nothing resides there except sand and rivers. Gulsahro consists of two foremost regions, named Nuhr and Lanuhr. One is with rivers, and one is without them. We sometimes buy their glass and various gems and minerals, but it's costly to import it from such a long distance."

"You mean... it's a desert?"

Gwyneira nodded. "I've never been, but I hadn't been to Sylvaine, either, until five years ago."

"How do they survive? There isn't any soil to cultivate crops."

"I studied them a little when I was a child. They do have a little soil by riverbeds, but it's filled with clay, and the river floods every year. They use animals to plant their crops, like donkeys and goats, to get past the clay."

"But won't the crops wither and die from the heat?"

"You're the Green witch, you tell me. Which crops can last?" she grinned, a teasing sparkle glimmering in her eye.

"Well, wheat, barley, lettuce, cabbages, radishes, turnips, grapes, and figs do like a lot of sunlight."

"Correct."

"I never knew that the country existed."

"Not many people do. They're a quiet country—not one to travel across their border into ours often."

I wanted to ask her more, but the door opened once more. Dr. and Madame Aitor rushed in. I stood and embraced them. "Oh, Khorshid," Madame Aitor muttered, "Queen Gwyneira sent us an urgent letter. Her Majesty said that you were to stand trial?"

"Yes, that's true," Gwyneira said, standing to face them. My employers dropped into low bows, realizing who is in their presence.

"Your Majesty," they chorused.

"Please, rise. Allow me to explain this whole ordeal." We moved to the couches. "I have already tried Lady Khorshid and found her not guilty. The charges were a stretch with very little evidence. You see, my husband took a fall yesterday, and Lady Khorshid was the first to aid him. The royal doctor interrupted her care, failing to listen to her diagnosis. The doctor thought she had already checked for a concussion due to his own hubris.

"My husband passed away due to that unchecked concussion, and my father attempted to have Lady Khorshid exiled for her supposed crime. But I was there when she treated my husband. I knew it was not her doing. So, I charged the doctor instead. His prosecution will be later this week."