Sorrows of Adoration (54 page)

“Jarik, if there’s
something you know that can help Kurit—”

“It won’t help him.
It’s the cause. Part of the cause, I think. I’m not sure.” He
grumbled and ran his hands through his hair. That gesture of
frustration was uncommon to him and reminded me of Kurit. My heart
sank.

“Tell me, Jarik. You
cannot protect me from this.”

He glanced at me sadly,
then turned away again. “There have been times, Aenna, when you are
in your workroom or safely in the nursery with Raelik that I have
not stood outside the door but instead have sat with Kurit and
Kasha in the parlours. I’ve been present when she speaks ill of
you. She tells him that you are the cause of his problems, that you
seek to destroy him for your own power since you would be regent
until Raelik is of age to rule. She turns your words into venom and
tries to convince him that you neither love nor need him.”

Jarik turned his
eyes to me again and held his hands out in supplication. “I am
sorry, Aenna. I have tried to defend you, but she orders me away.
She …” He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “She has
also threatened that if I allow myself to be taken in by your
supposed enchantments, I shall
be asked to leave the palace.”

I bolted upwards from
the couch in anger and shouted, “She wouldn’t dare!”

“Perhaps not now, but
at the time of that particular threat she was still Queen, and she
meant it. Regardless of that, she tells Kurit that he has no
problems, he is doing nothing wrong, but that you are bewitching
him to make him doubt himself and weaken his will.”

My head swam in fury,
frustration, and sadness. I dropped myself back down to the couch
and put my aching head in my hands.

Jarik was soon back at
my side with an arm around my shoulders. “He doesn’t believe it,
Aenna,” he said emphatically. “You have to know that he is not
blind, he knows his mother is mad with hatred, and he doesn’t
believe her words. Not in his heart. He loves you. That hasn’t
changed. I know him, and I know that inside that drunken fool is
the Kurit we used to know, and he adores you, and it’s probably
killing him in there to know he’s hurting you and now his little
son. But Kasha is driving him mad, and being unable to fight her
effectively, I think he instead seeks to drown his tortured
self.”

He pulled my hands from
my face and softly said, “Look at me, Aenna.” I did so, and he
said, “Kurit loves you. Don’t lose sight of that.”

I felt my heart seize
in agony again at Jarik’s words. I whispered aloud to him the
thought that had haunted me for weeks: “I don’t think he does. I
don’t think he ever truly did,” I confided. “He was infatuated,
confused perhaps by feelings of gratitude, perhaps unintentionally
seeking a way to rebel against Kasha, but I doubt now that he ever
truly loved me as much as he thought he did.” To speak these
thoughts to another person made them seem real. The pain of it was
almost unbearable.

Jarik pulled me close
to him suddenly and roughly. He wrapped his arms around me
protectively, as if he wished to shelter me from my own words. “Oh,
sweet Aenna,” he whispered, rocking me as I felt tears roll from my
closed eyes. “Good Lady Aenna, that is the most despicable crime,
that he would make you think that. His love was true. I knew him
better than anyone, and the light in his eyes when he beheld you
could not have been contrived and does not come from mere
infatuation.”

“Then what has
changed?” I asked, my words muffled with half my face pressed into
his chest. “I asked him just now if he still loved me, and he would
not answer.”

“Don’t take that as a
lack of love. He is battling against himself to control the demons
in his soul. He may have forgotten how to express his love, but it
can’t have faded.”

“How can you be so
sure?”

For a moment he held me
without saying anything, and then he pushed gently on my shoulders
that I might sit up and look at his face. His gaze held mine as he
brushed tears from my face. “Because any man who doesn’t love a
wife such as you is a fool, and despite his recent behaviour, Kurit
is no fool.”

I felt very weak and
pathetic sitting there crying as this good man tried to comfort me
and failed. In an attempt to regain some semblance of self-control,
I slowly rose. I walked again to stare into that landscape painting
and let its tranquility wash over me. I closed my eyes and felt my
pain falling into the back of my mind, as if being slowly draped by
a thick curtain. It was still there, I was very aware of its
presence, but I pushed it out of reach for the moment. I could not
stand to envision myself so helpless as to continue weeping in
Jarik’s arms when there was no point to it, no comfort in it.

I opened my eyes again.
The painting had not changed, though I felt that if I stared at it
long enough, I might see the wind brush through the waves of grass.
An odd calm settled my mind.

“Your words are kind,
Jarik, but I still don’t believe it,” I said. My voice sounded as
though it were outside of me. I sounded very much like a Queen to
myself. “I must accept that either he loves me no more, or perhaps
he does as you say but it is meaningless if he finds himself
fighting against it.”

The curtain had drawn
closed on my agony, leaving me serene and detached. “I can go on,”
I said, for it was the truth. “It is hard, but I am strong, and I
have my son to love and his love for me. I have dear friends in you
and in Leiset. It remains my duty to ensure the people do not learn
of the King’s failings.”

I turned to face him
with what I imagined to be an elegant smile. “I shall wear a happy
mask and assure them that all is well.” I let the smile fade and
said without any emotion at all, “If the Kurit that loved me as you
say he did still lives inside that man, then I shall pray he
surfaces one day again, but I cannot wait for it nor rely on it
without risking my son, myself, and this kingdom.”

Jarik rose from the
couch, though he did not approach me. “I have always known you to
be strong and greatly respected that in you, but it is terrible to
hear those words, Aenna. You deserve so much more.”

I expected his words to
impact me, but the curtain remained closed and I felt nothing. No
anger, no sorrow, no joy—nothing at all. “We only deserve what we
earn,” I said. “I have earned the respect of the people. I have
earned the adoration of my son. Of those things I am confident. But
somehow I have failed to earn the continued love of my husband. I
must still attend to my duty. Duty cannot be sacrificed because we
don’t like something in our own lives.” I wondered if I looked as
stalwart and regal as I felt.

With great elegance,
Jarik approached, took my hand, and bowed to kiss it kindly. “And
that, Your Majesty, is why you are a good Queen, though it saddens
me to hear you say such things. You treat others with kindness and
respect, and you ought to be treated likewise. Don’t imagine
Kurit’s weaknesses to be your fault. Mark my words, dear Aenna, the
time will come when he shall see his folly and he will learn to
conquer his demons and love you again, as one so magnificent should
be loved. I just pray that he doesn’t destroy your good heart along
the way.”

Then he reached out to
touch me with what would have been inappropriate affection from any
other man. His fingers gently drew along my cheek and down my chin.
Then he turned them around and ran the backs of them softly down my
throat. His hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed it tenderly.
“But that’s why I am here, as a friend to Aenna, as Champion to the
Queen,” he whispered in a voice rich with love. “I pledge to do all
that is in my power to ensure that his madness does not destroy
you. Please, do not shut your emotions away and become cold,
unfeeling. If you must do that in public, then do so, but with me,
I ask that you be true to yourself.”

Still numb, I managed
to serve him a tiny smile as I said, “You are a good man, Jarik. I
am not proud of needing you, but I can’t imagine what I’d do in
these times without you.”

“You will never have to
learn that, good lady. I am eternally here for you.” He pulled me
into an embrace.

As he held me, pledging
devotion to me that should have been supplied by Kurit, I found
myself drifting to thoughts of how different my life might have
been if I had fallen in love with him instead, if he had not
claimed to be the Prince at the outpost. I chastised myself for the
thought, but I could not banish it entirely from my mind, not even
after he left the room.

KURIT TOOK TO hiding in
his chambers or workroom for several days following that awful
fight, though I did not know whether he did so out of guilt, anger,
or revulsion towards me. To be quite blunt, I didn’t care. I still
very much loved my husband, but this drunken wretch was not the man
I had married. It mattered not to me what this Kurit felt, for I
did not know him—and did not wish to. I was quite happy to allow
him to avoid me.

Then late one evening
as I was reading the previous month’s tax records as part of my
attempt to prove to myself, if not anyone else, that the market was
already a success, I realized that the numbers simply did not add
up as they should have. Upon careful inspection of the mathematics
that led to the various totals, I saw errors in addition as well as
several instances of transposed digits. These calculations were
Kurit’s work; he had signed the forms himself. It was obvious by
the scrawling handwriting, the messy, scratched-out portions, and
the errors that he had been drunk when the calculations were
made.

I sighed in
exasperation. Flipping through other recent sheets, I saw that the
frequency of the errors had increased quite dramatically since the
night after our last fight. I realized he was drinking so heavily
now that he could not even function in his most basic duties.

“By the Temple and all
that’s sacred, Kurit,” I muttered aloud, “let us pray that nothing
needing of a King’s proper attention should arise.”

Then I reconsidered my
own words. I decided it was insufficient to pray that nothing
should go wrong. It became clear to me that I could no longer be
complacent about this issue and hope that kind words or occasional
nagging might do some good. It was absolutely ridiculous that a
King should be so irresponsible that he could not write up a simple
accounting calculation without so many errors.

I gathered the sheets
together and went to the door between our workrooms. Just before I
opened it, however, I caught the sound of Kasha’s quietly
condemning voice. I could not hear specifically what she said to
Kurit, but by her tone it was safe to assume that she was, as
usual, belittling me.

Not wishing to spark
another interlude like the one several days before, I returned to
my desk and waited silently until I heard Kurit’s inevitable angry
reply. A moment later I heard his other door open and close
forcibly. Foolishly, I did not give him time to calm himself from
his mother’s visit. I went immediately into his workroom without
even pausing to knock on the door.

He was standing across
the room, pouring himself a drink, as was to be expected. When I
entered, he turned and glared at me.

“Go away, Aenna.
Whatever brings you here, I’m not in the mood to discuss it,” he
grumbled.

“I care not for your
mood or whim, Kurit,” I said acidly in return. “You’re the King,
and you have duties to uphold, whether or not you find it
pleasurable or convenient.”

He rolled his eyes at
me—a move he knew infuriated me. I forced myself to remain calm
despite his attempt to bait me. He took a long pull from his drink,
then said, “What have I done now to displease you, Majesty?”

I began to explain to
him, as calmly as I could, that his forms were full of mathematical
errors. He cut me off in mid-sentence and said in a voice dripping
with sarcasm, “Well, then I suppose I’m just not as bright as you,
am I?” He slammed his glass down on the table and then waved his
arms in mock prayer and said to the ceiling, “I am not worthy to
work under the Great Goddess Aenna! Gods above, your Goddess here
in human form has found another of my transgressions. Strike me
down, if you will!” He returned his mocking eyes to me and sneered
as he picked up his glass once more.

“Kurit, you’re being
ridiculous.”

“Of course I am, dear
Goddess. I am but a lowly man and not as able or bright or inspired
as you. Please, do continue to illustrate my stupidity to me, that
I might benefit from your all-encompassing wisdom.”

Instead of having the
sense to leave him to his drunken mockery, I allowed myself to be
pulled into his madness. Angrily, I slammed the pile of forms on
his desk and shouted, “That’s enough, Kurit! Look at you! I’ve
given up trying to help you or understand you, but I’m not going to
stand idly by while you throw your kingdom into disarray with your
drunkenness!”

His face became red
with anger as he stormed to where I stood. “You will not speak to
me in such tones!” he shouted, waving a scolding finger in my
face.

“Somebody has to!” I
yelled. “You have lost complete control over yourself!”

“No! I’ve lost control
over you!” he bellowed.

In what seemed the
flash of a second, I found myself struggling to open my eyes, my
face tickled by the rug. I realized I was on the floor, though I
knew not why. I became aware of Kurit’s voice above me, but it took
me a moment to comprehend his words.

“… I didn’t mean
to, Aenna. Please wake! By the Gods, what have I done? What have I
done? Aenna, my dear sweet Aenna, please …” he repeated in a
terrified sadness. His hand was shaking my shoulder frantically.
When he noticed that I was stirring, he hurriedly said, “Aenna!
Aenna, I’m sorry! I can’t imagine what possessed me to strike
you!”