Page 35 of Prize for the King
The service Raduna offers is greater than anything I’ve ever received from another person. I am terrified to believe him, because my father was right. Who am I to burden others with my insipid problems? My knights have better things to do than coddle a stupid woman who isn’t even decent enough to grieve her own father.
“Thank you,” I choke out, knowing Raduna expects a reply.
“Just think about it, please.”
We don’t talk after this, Raduna whistling a cheerful melody. The bridge on River Kahl, which is the border between Farneer and Serilla, is patrolled by a dozen Agnidari. They let us through respectfully, their fists pressing to their chests in the Agnidari salute. We take a short break in a village nearby, and I can’t stop staring, struck by how different the world on this side of the border looks.
This small settlement is thriving. Most workers are out in the fields, making haste in the good weather, but a bunch of human women greet us as we ride in, not afraid at all. Three tables wait in the village green, laden with pitchers and heaps of food. These people knew we were coming, and they made us a feast.
I take in the freshly painted buildings, gardens filled with produce, and plum trees heaving with fruit. Chickens and geese walk around freely, healthy and plump. A group of human children plays in the distance.
“Magnar took Serilla two years ago,” Raduna says, handing me a large glass of fruit compote and a plate with two sweet buns drowning in dark honey. “Serillans had plenty of time to get used to us and unlearn the horrid tales about my people.”
I bite into a bun and moan from bliss. The dough is fluffy and warm, and the sweet filling is made from forest blackberries. Maybe it’s because I’m so hungry, but this is the best bun I’ve ever had in my life, and I can’t hold back eager sounds of pleasure.
“That good?” Raduna asks before clearing his throat. The tops of his cheeks grow darker, the gray turning purplish with the faintest hint of red to match his braids, like he’s blushing. “Eat, my queen. I’ll bring you more.”
When he walks away, a woman in her fifties, with a healthy complexion and a pretty red kerchief on her head, walks over to sit by my side.
“What a strapping man,” she says with an appreciative nod. “You’ve done well for yourself, girl.”
I’m taken aback by her forward manner, but instantly realize how I must appear—with my clothes torn and stained, hat squished, and no diadem circling my brow. The woman doesn’t know I’m a princess and Magnar’s wife.
I smile and wash down the last of my second bun with the fruitydrink.
“Oh, he’s not my man. He’s just… he helps me.”
The woman chuckles and shakes her head. “Young people. You have such amazing opportunities these days. When I was your age, we still thought the Agnidari were the plague. And now look, young girls marrying them left and right, living in wealth and prosperity. King Magnar is the best thing that ever happened to Serilla, you mark my words.”
I frown because this is so different from what I was told. According to courtly gossip, the people of the three kingdoms conquered by Magnar suffered greatly. But like everything else, this too seems to be a lie.
“You weren’t happy before he took over?”
The woman waves her hand dismissively. “Happy, unhappy. Sure, we were fine. There were fat years and lean years, and we did our best to survive and pay our taxes, like everyone. Except, we never got any help. Now we pay, too, and in return, the Agnidari bring us tools from Roharra, new machines for the fields, and they take some of our youths to teach them how to treat serious ailments at their university. That’s fair, I say. No one goes hungry anymore.”
She gets up with a grunt to help serve food, and I wait for Raduna, thinking about her words. It’s so confusing.
On the one hand, Magnar openly condoned rapes in my father’s castle. I saw him disembowel his own soldier publicly. Heforcedme into marriage.
And yet, Raduna says he’s a good leader, and the people he conquered are happy about his reign. Is he good or bad—or something in between?
I don’t know what to think.
XI Bath
The sun is setting when we arrive at another castle. Raduna explains there are many small castles left over from the times when Eleven Kingdoms were an empire with only one ruler.
“He traveled a lot, visiting his provinces, and so, the castles were built within the distance of a day’s travel from each other. The goal was to give the emperor a place to stay every night so he didn’t have to camp outside. Some of those castles are gone now, but Magnar had the crucial ones restored. This one is a good example. It was a ruin after the war, but Magnar gave it to Vardi, one of late king Hrognar’s advisors, and he had the core buildings finished within a year. Vardi is a skilled architect.”
I can tell the castle is partly new. The lower parts of the walls are built of dark gray rock, the stones larger, but the upper floors and towers are made of lighter, smaller stones. It’s brightly lit with torches, and Agnidari men patrol the walls. When we approach, a sturdy bridge lowers to let us cross over the moat.
“Thank you for the privilege of being your rider today. I hope to see you at dinner, my queen,” Raduna says with a respectful bow after he helps me dismount.
I smile with difficulty, my thighs hurting more than they did last night. We covered a lot of ground today.
When Khay comes over, offering me his hand, I take it without protest and follow him up wide, well-lit stairs covered with a dark blue carpet. I manage to bite back groans of pain, but after five steps or so, Khay stops and gives me a penetrating look.
“Of course,” he sighs. “Why didn’t you say so?”
