“From him and others,” her friend said.
“Then I must send them all back.”
“Truly? All of them? ” Ivgenia held out a large parcel wrapped in cloth. “Even this one from Prince Eneas himself… ?”
Briony took it and opened it. “It’s a book—A Chronicle of the Life of Iola, Queen of Syan, Tolos, and Perikal. Of course—the prince and I spoke of her the other day.”
“How romantic,” Feival said with a certain asperity.
“So are you going to keep it?”
“It is a very thoughtful gift, Ivvie—he knows I am interested in such things. Iola lived in secrecy for several years when young because her family had been usurped during the War of Three Favors.”
“Which means you want to keep it, Princess. What of the bracelet? Do you still mean to send it back?”
“Of course. I hardly know the man.”
“So you will keep a book and send back a jeweled bracelet? Do you wonder why half the court thinks you have set your cap at Eneas and the other half thinks you mad?”
It stung. There was something in what Ivvie said, of course—Briony did have some feelings for the prince, and it had been clever of him to give her such a gift instead of something merely pretty. Eneas understood that she was not like other girls.
Which made what she planned to do to him even more terrible.
“What about these others? There are half a dozen more letters and gifts.” Ivgenia held out a carved wooden box. “This is pretty.”
“I don’t want any of these.” Briony shook her head. “You open it.”
“Truly? May I keep what’s in it… ?”
“Ivvie! You are terrible! Very well, I might as well know—what is it?”
“It’s… empty,” said her friend, but her voice sounded odd. “Oh. I’ve hurt myself. On the clasp.” Ivgenia held up her finger to show Briony a single drop of blood like a carnelian bead. A moment later the girl swayed and then fell heavily to the floor.
Briony didn’t like the formality of Broadhall’s Great Garden at the best of times, but today it felt utterly barren and oppressive.
It wasn’t the size, although it covered many acres, but the tamed, controlled nature of the place. None of the hedges or ornamental trees were taller than a person’s head, and most were far shorter; between them lay only geometric arrangements of low box hedges and careful, concentric flower gardens. You could stand in any part of the gardens and see almost all the rest, including who shared the garden with you. Perhaps the Tessians liked it that way, but she preferred a little more solitude, especially now, when it felt like malicious eyes watched her everywhere she went. The much smaller residence garden back home had several little hills and stands of tall trees that effectively divided the space into many separate locations—a world in miniature, as her father had once called it. (He was talking sourly of how parts of it had been allowed to go to seed, but what he said was still true.)
“I am sorry to keep you waiting, Princess.” As Eneas emerged from the back of the scriptorium Briony had a momentary view of a legion of beetle-black scribing priests sitting side by side at the long tables, hard at work. “And even more sorry to keep you waiting at such an unhappy time. There is no way I can express my sorrow and shame that such things should happen in my father’s court—and twice! Please, how is the Lady e’Doursos?”
“She will live, thank the gods, that is what the physician told me… but she will be a long while getting better.” Briony fought back tears for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few hours. She was so tired she felt as though she were made from frail glass. “It was a near thing. I sat up with her all the night as she passed in and out of her fever. I thought many times we would lose her, but it seems the sharpened piece of the clasp only barely pierced her, or it might have been the poison was weak.” Briony still could not guess who had tried to murder her this time. Surely Jenkin Crowel had been frightened out of trying such tricks again, but if it hadn’t been the Tollys’ envoy then who could be behind it?
“We must praise the Three Brothers for that blessed bit of good fortune, then.” Eneas offered Briony his arm. “Will you walk with me? I am mightily tired of the sound of pens scratching. I have been sending letters to every garrison between here and Hierosol about the autarch’s attack. A damnable amount of work.” He colored a little. “Not that I had to do all the copying myself, thank the gods!” He was speaking swiftly now, as though afraid to let silence fall. “I must get one of those writing machines the pamphleteers and poets use—or stamping machine, I suppose it should be called, for they work by stamping out letters and words as a royal seal stamps signs into wax. It would certainly speed the giving of orders to our field commanders…” He shook his head. “Listen to me, prattling on when you have just survived an attack on your life!”
“An attack that harmed me not at all.”
He frowned. “You say that as though you wish it had succeeded.”
Briony shook her head, although even such small movements felt nearly beyond her strength. “I don’t wish that, Prince Eneas, of course I don’t. But I feel terrible that others should suffer on my behalf.”
“You are an admirable woman, Briony Eddon. I promise that I will do everything I can to keep you safe. I will send more of my guards. There are no more loyal men in all Syan.”
“I’m sure of that, Highness,” she said. “But even the finest soldiers are scant protection against poison.”
He seemed more upset than Briony was herself. “Still, we must do something. This is an outrage, Princess—a deadly insult to my father’s name and throne. Here in our own court!” He turned then, stopping them in the middle of the path, and took her right hand in both of his. “And it is especially disheartening to me, Briony Eddon, because I hold you in such high regard. There is nothing I would not do for you.”
She blinked. His hands were warm. He had taken his gloves off.
“Surely you are not surprised.” The prince looked troubled. “Was I so foolish as to be completely wrong when I supposed you might also have some feelings for me?”
Briony held her breath for a moment. She had been working toward this moment for weeks, but now she was confused. Eneas was admirable, kind, and clever. Everyone knew he was brave. And, as she looked at him now, she saw his strong, even features and knew that although he was no godlike beauty, any woman would be glad to have him even were he not the prince and heir of mighty Syan. But he was. And she needed his position and his power desperately to save her people, her family’s throne. So why did she suddenly feel confounded and tongue-tied?
“I have struck you silent, Princess. You are not the type to be silent in the presence of men. I fear that I have offended you in some way.”
“No. No, your Royal Highness—Prince Eneas—you have done me great honor.” For a moment her imposture and the truth of her heart were so close she could not tell one from the other. “I think a great deal of you. I think you are the most admirable man in this whole great kingdom…”
He gently tugged his hand away from her, disguising his unhappiness a little by pushing his dark hair back from his forehead. “ ‘But,’ you are about to say. But there is someone else to whom your heart has already been given—maybe your troth even plighted in the temple.”
“No!” But it wasn’t completely untrue—she did have feelings for someone else, as confusing and inappropriate and even ridiculous as those feelings might be. But that person could not save her kingdom. Eneas could—if any human agency could perform such a task. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that… I cannot let myself have feelings for anyone, even someone like you, though you are the dream of any sensible woman. I cannot.” She tried to pull away, caught in the moment like a leaf scudding on the wind.