In The Name of Love
48: Grief

Prince Adalberto takes a deep breath as he trudges down the corridor towards his father’s chambers. Exhaustion and trepidation slow his steps. It is late; a valet roused him from a sound sleep with the news that the King required his presence immediately. Why couldn’t we have spoken when he arrived at sunset and I met him at the gates? Adalberto gripes, trying to wake himself up. Or, better yet, couldn’t this have waited until morning? But he knows better than to ask such things aloud. King Celestino has an iron will, and Adalberto has not become the favorite, most trusted son by questioning his father.

Still, the eldest Syazonian prince is far from pleased to be out of bed in the darkest part of the night. The stone corridors of Zosya feel chilly and damp regardless of the season outside, and Adalberto shivers, wishing he’d thought to grab a cloak when dressing in haste for this meeting. A piece of parchment in his pocket rustles because of the shiver, and a slight smile graces his lips for a moment as he remembers the latest letter from his fiancée. She’s so sweet, smart, considerate of others, he reflects, much like my Valeriya was. The old familiar ache of loss and grief returns to his chest, tugging the corners of his lips down and creasing his brow. Why, Chuezoh, did you see fit to take her from me like that? And the little one…

His footsteps stop and he leans against the cool stone wall, overcome by memories of Valeriya’s screams, the hopeless faces of the apothecaries and midwives, the smell of blood in the air. He’d rushed to her side, ignoring the protests of the maids, to hold her and try to comfort her, hoping against hope that they could find a way to save her. When her eyes met his, though, that hope died, and her spirit left her not long after.

The last thing she said to him was “I’m sorry,” over and over again.

His heart shattered that night, but that hadn’t mattered to King Celestino. Syazonian tradition would have given Adalberto at least a year to mourn, but when the announcement of Princess Wilhelmina’s Quest for Favor arrived, the king could not be persuaded to let that tradition stand. His eldest son must go and compete, despite his grief, and so Adalberto did, and now, somehow, he is engaged again to another, set to be married in a month.

“Forgive me, Valeriya,” he whispers, as he has done at least once each night since Minna announced her choice. This time, Adalberto can almost feel the warm, gentle touch of Valeriya’s hand on his shoulder, assuring him that she wants him to keep living, to find happiness again, however impossible that might seem.

Can I love again? he finds himself wondering as he fingers the parchment in his pocket. Minna’s letters make him think it might be possible, someday, if she proves to be as sweet and compassionate and patient as she seems on paper. That was the way she acted, at that supper and when we said goodbye—

“Your Highness? Are you all right?” a valet, Enrique, inquires from the door to King Celestino’s chambers. He’s the same valet who summoned him earlier, Adalberto realizes. Chuezoh bless that long-suffering man.

Prince Adalberto jerks himself away from the wall and starts walking towards his father’s chambers and the valet again. “Yes, Enrique. Sorry. The hour is late, and….”

“I understand, Your Highness.” Enrique’s eyes meet Adalberto’s with a knowing kind of pity. “But His Majesty is waiting.”

Adalberto nods and focuses on regaining his composure. His father has no patience for emotions of any kind. He was different, before Mother took ill, Adalberto remembers. But since then, Zosya’s gargoyles have been known to show more expression and empathy. Far too soon for the prince’s liking, Enrique is opening a door for him and he steps across the threshold into King Celestino’s antechamber. The king sits in one of two chairs near his fireplace, holding a letter up to read by firelight. A pile of other correspondence rests near his feet on the thick bearskin rug.

“You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?” Prince Adalberto asks with a bow. Though they are father and son, the king insists on this formality.

“Yes. Come in. Sit,” King Celestino invites with a wave towards the chair near his. Adalberto complies, doing his best to appear both awake and impassive.

“Have you already recovered from your travels? I did not expect a summons from you before tomorrow morning.”

“There is no rest for the head that wears the crown. You understand, now, having handled things in my absence, the weight of that burden.”

“To some extent. I hope you have found my handling of things to be satisfactory.”

“Generally exemplary, based on these reports from my advisors.” The king gestures to the pile of parchment at his feet. Adalberto’s cheeks heat up at this rare praise from his father. “Your wedding plans seem to be on schedule. Your brothers have not killed each other. My advisors speak highly of your capabilities as a ruler. Syazonia prospers, but for the fools in our duchy of Andelios who think they should rather be part of Barhesta.”

“Were you not able to come to an agreement with the people of Andelios? Your last letter was rather optimistic.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

King Celestino shakes his head, glaring into his fireplace. “They must simply learn to be content where they are. Syazonia’s best gold mines are in Andelios, and I will not part with that territory for any cause or any price.”

“But the people are not content.” Adalberto’s brow furrows in concern.

“The Duke of Andelios will see to that. I granted him authorization to deal with the discontents by whatever means he deems necessary. Twelve score knights are riding to his castle as we speak, with attendant lesser soldiers of their choosing.”

“You are expecting a violent uprising?”

“Better to prepare for the worst and not encounter it than to be caught unawares by it.”

“Dead citizens cannot work in the gold mines, Your Majesty,” Adalberto points out. The idea of people losing their loved ones because of his father’s stubbornness and greed makes his stomach churn.

“That is true. But Barhesta is hungry for power and land. Ceding Andelios to them would not only be a great loss for Syazonia, it would be a show of weakness. Then the question would be when Barhesta would start stirring up discontentment again and demanding more, not whether such a thing would occur.” King Celestino’s care-worn features are stony, and his eyes flash fiery determination. “Letting them take Andelios would be the start down a slippery slope towards Syazonia ceasing to exist. This country is your inheritance, son. I intend to give you as much or more than my father gave me, when my time comes.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.” Adalberto can say nothing else. He knows gratitude is expected, but he cannot bring himself to express it. Valeriya would not have stood for this, after all the wretchedness Khandazar has been through on account of miserable citizens, Adalberto muses behind a slight frown. And Minna—how would she handle this? What would she say to my father?

“Good. I knew you would.” King Celestino nods with approval. “Now, let us speak of this agreement with King Ansgar, as pertains to the alliance we will make through your marriage to Princess Wilhelmina.”

Prince Adalberto nods and begins to enumerate the particulars of what he has authorized and what remains to be done. Normally he would welcome losing himself in a discussion of business matters, but this time he finds that he cannot. Worry about the situation in Andelios, and an ardent desire to pen a reply to his fiancée’s most recent letter, dominate his thoughts instead.

***~O~***

To Princess Wilhelmina, Minna, of Aethyrozia, may Chuezoh always bless her in every conceivable way,

Please rest assured that I will always make time for your letters. Your kindness and consideration in your most recent letter have brought warmth and joy to my heart. Thank you for inquiring about my family. Mother has been doing better of late; she even walked briefly in a courtyard with me yesterday after dinner. Warmer weather always seems to do her good. I have not heard from my sister, Manuela, recently, but she is busy with her young daughter and was never much for writing letters, anyway. My brothers are doing about as well as can be expected; Ramiro is almost always studying—I believe that he has been fixated on complex mathematics and geography recently—and Casimiro is his usual self. Lisandro has been spending most of his time composing with his dulcimer, and the results are quite pleasing to the ear; he has even been writing poems to set to his tunes, which I have not known him to do before. Emiliano has been sulky since I conveyed to him your warnings about your sister, but that is to be expected and he will soon be over it. I have already heard rumors that he has decided to turn to one of my mother’s handmaidens for comfort.

As for my father and the situation in Andelios, our duchy on the border with Barhesta, the king returned yestereve. I met with him in the darkest part of last night, and I confess I fear for the worst. He is not willing to part with Andelios for any reason, and he has authorized the Duke of Andelios to handle any unrest by whatever means he deems necessary, and is sending knights and soldiers there. I am gravely concerned that there may be much violence and further unhappiness in that region, and that such harsh treatment from the crown will ultimately do more harm than good. I can think of no good reason to risk depriving anyone of their loved ones. I should like to be able to go there myself, to speak to the people and assess the situation and see what the best option might be, but such a thing will have to wait until after our wedding. When you have sat in on your father’s meetings with his advisors, have you witnessed his handling of any similar situations? Given your interest in politics and helping people, I would be most interested in hearing what you think ought to be done, and I hope that you would be willing to accompany me on such a journey. The crown is a heavy burden, but I believe it would be lighter and more manageable if I could find in you an equal partner.

I am sorry that distance has grown between you and Fifi on account of your Quest for Favor and wedding plans, and sorry for my inadvertent role in that. I know how important such relationships are, and I hope that you are able to regain the closeness you had before. If you are able to take time away from wedding plans to go for a walk or a ride with her, someplace where you might both speak freely, that might work wonders for you. Such ventures have been beneficial for Lisandro and me recently. I share your hopes that her attendance at our wedding festivities will be beneficial for both of you, and we are also making preparations to host both her and Emrik at Nysia for Oggerheim. It is my favorite festival of the year, with the hunting and the fall colors and the wide variety of food at the feasts, and I find it more enjoyable at Nysia than here at Zosya, for many reasons. Please assure Fifi that our marriage will not be the end of her relationship with you.

I am glad that you have staff who are willing to come here with you and that working with the Royal Orchestra has brought you joy. I am not sure what else to suggest you do in regards to preparing for the wedding, beyond what I know you are already doing for your trousseau and other such things. I can still take suggestions for the feasting menu, if you have any. Beyond that, I think things are well in hand. Our Royal High Priest of Chuezoh will perform the ceremony. We have a smaller guest list than is customary, which I hope will not offend you, but all the royals of Lokva have been invited, as well as the Syazonian nobility. Zosya is large enough to accommodate them all. And once the festivities are over, we will leave court and go to Nysia, which Gaspar has assured me is in excellent condition in anticipation of your arrival.

I want to make this transition, which I know will be monumental for you, as easy and comfortable as possible. To that end, I feel that there is a sensitive matter we must discuss. I am sure you are aware of what a husband and wife are meant to do on their wedding night. As my father’s eldest son and heir, there is considerable pressure for me to produce an heir of my own. However, I lost my Valeriya in the pursuit of that precise aim, and I must confess that I am terrified of such a thing happening again. I know it is not traditional that the wife should take the lead in the marital bedchamber, but given our circumstances, and to maximize your comfort, that is exactly how I should like to proceed, if you agree. Of course this would be better discussed in person, but I do not know how we might accomplish that before the wedding night itself, and so I wanted to broach the subject here, however awkward and unseemly doing so might be. I hope that writing about this has not offended you.

Finally, to your request—my siblings and I were constantly engaged in our lessons growing up. Manuela’s were more often than not separate from ours, and she spent more time with our mother than we boys did. Casimiro has always seen me as a rival, which has led to much conflict, and Emiliano now sees Casimiro as both rival and idol, compounding that. Lisandro and Ramiro are quieter and less contentious, although Ramiro can be quite argumentative in matters of academics. As the eldest, it has always been my duty to set a good example for my younger brothers and to play peacemaker when disagreements arose. Once I turned sixteen, though, my lessons were at my father’s side in meetings with his advisors, rather than in a study with tutors. I am the only one of my father’s sons to receive such instruction thus far, which is both flattering and concerning.

At present I cannot think of any specific stories from our childhood that might amuse or interest you. My heart and mind are overburdened with the preparations for Friggenter and then our wedding, worries about the fate of Barhesta, and the weight of lingering grief. But we will have time to share such stories with one another. For now, I hope this letter and the enclosed gift—in honor of Friggenter—are sufficient for you, and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Warmest regards,

Adalberto

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