For the Most Beautiful (4 page)

I caught a glimpse of a couple of white-robed women and a dark hall behind one of the doors, an altar sending a spiral of smoke from the sacrifice towards the ceiling, before his robes whipped before my face and blocked them from view.

‘You must both return to the palace before night falls – and most especially you, Princess,' my father said, inclining his head towards Cassandra. ‘King Priam and Queen Hecuba would not want you wandering the streets of Troy at night. I shall send Eusebius with you to ensure you reach the palace safely.' He clicked his long fingers and, as if from nowhere, a eunuch with dark-lined eyes and curled hair appeared by his side, carrying a torch and with a long, shining bronze dagger at his waist. ‘Eusebius,' he said to the eunuch, ‘I am entrusting the Princess Cassandra and her companion to your care. Return them to the palace and ensure they come to no harm.'

The eunuch nodded and placed his right hand on the hilt of his dagger by way of an answer.

Cassandra and I gathered up our skirts and turned to leave.

But then my father placed one bony hand on my shoulder. ‘Wait, daughter. I would have a word with you before you go.'

I felt uneasy. What new reprimands would my father think up for me? Was it not enough that he was doing his best to lock me away in a priestess's robes for the rest of my life? I turned to face him, making a show of my reluctance.

He firmed his grip on my shoulder and steered me around the corner of the portico, where Cassandra could not hear us. ‘Daughter,' he said, after a small pause. ‘I do not wish to quarrel with you.'

I looked up at him. ‘No more do I with you. It is not
I
who keeps trying to force people to be other than they are.'

My father took a deep breath, then, apparently, decided to ignore me. ‘I am glad that you are enjoying your position in the palace as companion to the princess,' he continued evenly. ‘You were fortunate that she chose you when we were summoned here from Larisa. It is a source of great comfort to me that you are content and well cared for in the palace.'

I stared at him. ‘But, if that is so, then why can I not simply—'

He held up a hand, and I spluttered into silence. ‘I have not finished. I said that I am glad you are content, and that you and the princes and princesses are close to each other, as friends and companions should be. And yet,' he looked down at me, his face stern, ‘I must tell you that I have heard your name mentioned by the temple-goers over the past few weeks, more than once, with regards to the Prince Troilus. I only hope, daughter, for your sake, that the rumours are not true, for half of them are more scandalous than I dare to repeat.'

‘I do not know what you have heard,' I said, ‘and if you will not tell me, then how can I deny it?'

His eyes sparked and he looked as if he would shout at me, but he mastered himself with some difficulty and said, ‘Krisayis, this is no laughing matter. You must remember that you are merely the daughter of a priest. You must not let your position as Princess Cassandra's companion fool you! A priestess of the Great God—'

‘But I am
not
a priestess of Apulunas yet!' I said, and I almost stamped my foot in frustration. ‘There are still two months left until I reach my sixteenth year!'

My father took my wrists in his hands and shook me. ‘Daughter,
listen
to me!' He lowered his voice. ‘It is essential that you guard your reputation. It is essential that you live up to the purity of the gods, whose chastity is beyond compare. You will never,' he continued firmly, as I tried to interrupt him, ‘be anything more than a priest's daughter. Nor should you wish to be. And there can be no higher honour than to serve our gods as I do – as you
will
do. Do you understand me?'

I was looking at my hands. I would not suggest by even a flicker of my eyes that I agreed.

He gave a sigh. ‘I shall not warn you again, daughter,' he said, and there was a finality to his tone. ‘There is nothing –
nothing
– more important than this.'

He did not allow me to reply but gripped me by the arm and led me as if I were a brute ox at the plough back to Cassandra, who was watching us curiously.

I shook my head to tell her I did not wish to talk about it now. ‘Shall we go?' I said to the guard and, without looking back at my father, I ran down the steps and away from Apulunas' temple.

‘Prince Mynes, son of King Ardys and Queen Hesione, rulers of the city of Lyrnessus and beloved by the gods,' the herald announced.

I bowed my head, trying not to let my fingers shake as I clasped them before me.

Beside me, my mother did the same. A retinue of at least six ambassadors and a herald was entering the herb garden through the gate. They were followed by my father, my eldest brother, Rhenor, and beside him, apparently deep in conversation with the king, a young man with a golden diadem sitting on his head of boyish, curled brown hair, and laughing brown eyes.

I looked quickly at my mother, but her face was serene, her expression calm. She was clearly not taken aback by the appearance of the prince. And yet I could not help my lips parting in surprise as I glanced at him. All of my other suitors – the long line of men who had contended for my hand only to flee, their hearts failing them when they had heard the words of the prophecy and fearing war with my father's formidable armies – had been kings. Men in their prime, not boys. I had expected a man for a husband, a king who ruled his territory with the wisdom of age and the strength of a seasoned warrior. A man who wanted a beautiful young bride at his side to demonstrate his power. Instead, here was a young prince, the beard on his chin still light and downy, barely older than I.

‘He is – he is young,' I commented, under my breath, to my mother, as my father and the prince walked up the stone path towards us.

‘He is strong,' she corrected me calmly. ‘And, if the gods will it, you shall have many years together.'

‘I was expecting a king,' I whispered, my eyes cast down to my feet.

My mother looked at the prince as he approached, her royal smile now fixed upon her face, her head slightly inclined in a perfect image of nobility. ‘He shall be a king,' she replied, her lips barely parting as she swept her eyes to the ground.

I nodded. Of course she was right. He would be powerful, I reminded myself. Many kings died young, and left their thrones to their sons. Perhaps this young prince would soon come into his own. I collected myself and inclined my head, smiling like my mother, knowing that I must act the part of a future queen. I was a princess with everything at stake. I could not think to dictate the terms of my marriage, when any marriage, to any man, was the most I could hope for.

‘We are here,' the herald announced, his voice carrying through the small herb garden, ‘to discuss the betrothal of Princess Briseis of Pedasus to Prince Mynes of Lyrnessus. Before we begin the formal proceedings, however, I must tell you that the King and Queen of Lyrnessus have requested clarification on the matter of a certain prophecy.'

My heart sank. So we had arrived at it already. I fixed my eyes on my feet, trying to ignore the thudding of my heart.

‘King Ardys and Queen Hesione require a full declaration of the prophecy, its terms, and the conditions of its annulment,' the herald continued smoothly, in the nasal tones of a palace official. ‘They stipulate that they will be willing to consider an agreement on the marriage contract only should their ambassadors,' he gestured to the white-bearded men beside him, ‘agree that the prophecy is no longer valid.'

I felt a cold dread as my father's herald stepped forwards and cleared his throat to speak. I had seen this happen so many times.

I closed my eyes in fear, my fingers clasped once more in the sign of the goddess Luck.

‘Let this be the statement of the prophecy of the storm god Zayu, given to his servant the priestess of the said god on the thirteenth day of the Month of New Wine, in the fifteenth year of Princess Briseis' birth,' my father's herald recited in a dry, sharp voice, like chipped stone.

I knew the words so well I could almost say them from memory.

The herald cleared his throat. ‘The prophecy reads, “He who seeks Briseis' bed shall then her brothers three behead.”'

There was the usual moment of ringing silence as the words of the prophecy hung on the air. I felt numb with fear as I always did when I heard those words. I wanted, as I always wanted, to forget my formal stance, to run over to them and tell my suitor and his ambassadors that it was not true.
Why would the gods have set such a sentence on my head?
I wanted to say.
What have I ever done, in my short life, to wrong them?

But then my father's herald continued, and I was forced to listen on, in silence, as I always did, as my sentence was passed by others.

‘For five years Princess Briseis was kept in her father's palace without suitors or admirers of any kind, in the fear that the prophecy might indeed prove true, and that her suitor should kill her three brothers and my king's sole heirs. But then, six months ago, on the twenty-fifth day of the Month of New Wine, and in the twentieth year of Princess Briseis' birth, King Bias returned to the sanctuary of the storm god Zayu. King Bias was told that the gods have decreed the prophecy holds no more. That is, that the prophecy is now no longer true and that Princess Briseis may marry without consequence.'

My breathing was coming very fast and shallow. I risked a glance at my father, but he was looking at the herald, and my eyes came to rest instead on Prince Mynes.

Our eyes met.

He was a handsome young man on closer inspection: olive-skinned, strong, smiling, the ease of his bearing and the honesty of his smile making up for what he lacked in years and stature. I could imagine being married to such a man. He was not what I had thought he would be, but I could imagine being by his side, and being happy.

But then I caught myself. It was for this very reason that I should neither look nor hope.

I could not give myself away so easily when the gift might still be scorned, as it had been countless times before. I looked away quickly, a slight heat in my cheeks.

The ambassadors of Lyrnessus were conferring in a small group, their white-haired heads bowed and foreheads creased in a uniform frown. My father and elder brother were conversing in low tones. My mother, by my side, was a paragon of wooden formality, her eyes veiled, her expression unreadable.

I saw Prince Mynes join the ambassadors, speaking to them in a low voice and, occasionally, glancing towards me.

At last, one of the ambassadors, the eldest to judge by his straggling white beard and rheumy eyes, turned slowly to face my father. ‘We have come to our decision,' he said, his voice thin and quavering.

I held my breath, my eyes fixed on the old man, the nail of my forefinger digging hard into the soft flesh of my thumb in the sign of the goddess. Everyone in the herb garden seemed to be fixed absolutely still as they waited to hear the sentence the ambassador would pronounce upon me.

‘The word of the storm god is law,' he said slowly.

I caught my breath. What did that mean? My heart was pounding against my ribs so fast it felt like the beating of the drums at a festival of the gods.

The ambassador cleared his throat and continued: ‘If the prophecy is declared null, then we, the ambassadors of Lyrnessus, think it so. The prince and I,' the ambassador gave him a slight smile and a nod, ‘have no fear that the prophecy shall be fulfilled, or that there shall ever be war between the kingdoms of Pedasus and Lyrnessus, between whom there has ever been only friendship.'

He paused and glanced at me, his head slightly bowed. ‘I therefore announce that Prince Mynes and Princess Briseis are henceforth to be considered betrothed. The wedding will take place on the next day declared favourable by the gods.' He turned away.

I let out my breath slowly. It had happened.
It had happened.
I was to have a husband at last.