The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

that. And before that, to that obnoxious thief Bren, holding my hand in his, baring my bruises, and giving advice for which I had hardly spared two thoughts.

“Amraeya?”

“I wish I knew how to fight. How to defend myself and you. I think I’d feel better knowing that.”

Alyrra stares at me, and then her lips curve in a faint smile. “As would I. That, at least, I should be able to do something about. Thank you, Amraeya.”

And that’s the other thing I would change. “Back home, everyone calls me Rae.”

Her smile is brighter, truer, as she says, “Rae, then. Thank you.”

Chapter

21

By the time I’ve dressed and the princess’s maid has finished styling my hair and lining my eyes with kohl, I’ve no doubt we’re running very late. As I rise to my feet, I glance at the mirror. The handprint upon my face has darkened to a deeper red with hints of blue. My cheek is swollen, the skin slightly shiny. My other cheek bears a much smaller, lighter bruise where my face connected with the wall. However lovely my hair and makeup, no one’s going to be looking at it.

“Is it all right?” the maid asks uncertainly.

“Perfect,” I say, and slide my feet into my new slippers, lined with velvet by Melly’s request to cushion my latest set of blisters. The shoes are surprisingly comfortable.

I hurry through the common room on my way to the princess’s rooms. No doubt I’m the last to be ready. As I reach the hall, Jasmine steps out of the princess’s suite.

“Kelari Amraeya,” she says quietly.

I pause, taken aback by her manner. “Veria?”

“I—” She comes to a stop before me, her gaze fixed on my cheek. Then she grimaces and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m not sure I agree with the princess’s choice in making you an attendant, but even you don’t deserve such treatment.”

“Thank you?” I say, for there is as much kindness as insult in her words. In an attempt to change her focus, I ask, “Is the princess all right?”

Jasmine lifts a shoulder. “She seems fine. I think she’s used to . . .” She hesitates.

“Used to hiding things like this?” I ask.

She swallows. “So it would seem.”

“I suppose the court now has a better idea of why she might not have looked for help from the royal family after she was betrayed,” I say slowly. “I think I would have stuck with the horses myself.”

“Geese,” Jasmine corrects me.

“Geese. Much safer than her brother.”

She tilts her head, kohl-darkened eyes narrowed in consideration. Can a betrayal actually benefit a person, if it takes them away from what they fear? Was the princess protecting herself by embracing her new life as a goose girl? Was she, perhaps, not as much of a fool as the court believes?

Jasmine makes a faint, thoughtful sound, and turns toward the door. “Come along, or we’ll be late. I told the princess I’d fetch you.”

I fall into step with her and we make our way quietly to the princess’s suite. Alyrra looks exquisite, the pale pink and deeper rose of her attire bringing out the natural color in her cheeks. She is steady and quiet, and asks me only once if I am well. We escort her down to the great receiving hall, and from there out the main doors to where a line of carriages waits to bear the royal party to Speakers’ Hall.

I look out as we clatter through the city, past buildings strung with brightly colored flags, people of all ages lining the road. We come finally to a soaring bridge that spans the river runring past the hall. With the water glinting in the bright spring sunlight, the river seems somehow both eternal and ephemeral. Something that will long outlast me, and the palace, and all my worries, even as the water I look upon is continuously changing, being carried on to the sea in a cycle of flow and rainfall our scholars are still trying to understand. The river I see now, and the river I will pass over on our return, will be two different rivers, though they flow through the same place.

On the other side, we turn down a wide boulevard and roll to a stop before the hall. Built of shining white stone, with exquisitely carved arches, it is breathtaking in its beauty. The whole wide plaza before the building has been cleared by guards, spectators lining up on the other side of the wide avenue to catch a glimpse of the royal family.

Alyrra alights first, stepping aside to wait for us. I get down last, knowing it will take me the longest. Just as I lower myself down, the foreign queen sweeps up to join us, greeting Alyrra with a word and a nod. She is slightly taller than Alyrra, with dark chestnut hair and a cool demeanor. This is the first meeting between them since Alyrra’s brother attacked her, and yet her mother gives no indication of concern. I would have expected at least a question as to her daughter’s well-being. What I see instead in the woman’s strange hazel eyes is a hardness that explains how the prince was allowed to grow into the man he is.

Once all the royals have gathered, they turn toward the hall. Waiting before the great doorway stand two men and a woman, all in the sky-blue open-fronted robes of Speakers, an indigo emblem on each breast. The man at the center steps forward, and together they bow to us. I take my cue from the other attendants, curtsying low while Alyrra offers a smaller obeisance.

Behind them stand a pair of men. One, a captain I have seen at least once in the royal wing’s guard room, takes a step forward and nods to the king. The other, a tall, gaunt man draped in mage’s robes, dips his head as well. They must have been trusted to assess the hall for dangers. I look past