Bride of War: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 2

Chapter 1- Recovery

I wake up alone. Again.

My husband and I are married only in name, it seems, as every night since we moved into the king's suite I have woken up without a king. We retire to bed together, Garen and I, but I know it is all for show. He almost never comes to bed with me, and when he does he stays on the very opposite side of the enormous mattress.

I have tried to speak with him about the importance of considering an heir, but every time I bring up the subject he blushes, and then states he has no time for baby making. And still he does not touch me.

I wake an hour after sunrise every morning, each day with a dress laid out by Perdy and a washbasin full of clean, warm water. I dress, have breakfast by myself in the suite before retiring to the library for a while. Garen thinks I spend my time in the library reading poetry and love stories no doubt, but I have truly taken up the study of trade and finances. My husband thinks I do not know how our country is mired in debt, but I am determined to pull my weight regardless of whether or not he thinks I can.

"You did your part when you helped me win my country back," he says, "now it is my responsibility to keep it."

Sometimes I wonder if I married a moron.

After I finish my book for today (a history of horse breeding and exports in Skevet) I often invite some of the younger women of Skevetic society to have brunch with me. Many of them come only to appease their families, and most of them dote on me in order to gain favor with the crown. Apparently it is custom here for the queen to help facilitate respectful marriage agreements for the eligible ladies of the court.

Brunch today is blueberry and dark truffle scones, accompanied by melon and grapefruit. Three other women besides myself sit around the table; Lady Rosa T'rotto, a brazen young girl of sixteen, Baroness Fiona H'rose, a wealthy widow of twenty-eight, and Lady Marla W'olg, who was formally from a family of merchants, but were elevated to a higher status after the rebellion. Apparently her father bank rolled much of Garen's campaign.

The other two women do not like Lady Marla over much.

"Queen Mirabel, I hear that you have recently decided to expand your charity project," Baroness Fiona mentions casually, "I wonder if you have room for one more patron?"

I nod graciously, "Of course Baroness."

"I plan to make a very... Sizable donation." She says expectantly.

I smile ruefully, "Perhaps the second building should be named after the most dedicated patron."

The Baroness takes a triumphant bite of scone.

Lady Rosa frowns, "My father will of course be donating as well."

"Then please tell your father I am grateful for his contribution. It will not be forgotten." I acknowledge.

While Baroness Fiona is using my charity houses as a way to raise her wealth and status, Lady Rosa is making sure that I will remember to make her a favorable match.

Really, the amount of politics that these women play is far more complex and devastating than I was anticipating. Luckily I am a quick study. Still, it is hardly my favourite pastime to nibble crumpets and make petty promises. The real highlight of my days come about an hour after midday, when I walk down to the church that hosts Charity Bell. I find father Herbert's sermons to be quite entertaining. These Skevetics have the Great Spirits all jumbled, but all the best stories are there, although hilariously riddled with inaccuracies.

Still, Mother Ingrid lets me sit and read to the children after the sermon is over, which I always take great pleasure in. I often chose to read some of the epic journeys of the Skevetic heroes who travel land and sea.

I wish I could do that.

Today, I have thought of something mildly brilliant that will leave me unable to visit Charity Bel. I've been visiting the palace scribes off and on recently, and through simple persuasion I managed to get the assistant to the Master of the Treasury to tell me the exact financial status of Skevet.

It is not good. Alaric, or Nadra's, wars practically bankrupted the country, and then on top of that the reconciliation payment to Gricada was only possible with the sacrifice of many royal heirlooms. Now we still have to keep soldiers in the recovering Idrigal while their shattered government collects up the remaining pieces. Tariffs on all imports have help alleviate some of the monetary burden in the past month or so, but merchants and craftsmen are starting to get restless. Two of the biggest necessities come from outside the country; wood and metal ore.

And I have a solution. At least for one of them.

My aunt Ostelinda married a Kelpis diplomat, she now lives there with her four children. Kelpis is, incidentally, a country rich in lumber and entirely lacking in the one commodity that Skevet has in abundance. I've written to her proving an exclusive deal with Kelpis, where horses are traded in exchange for lumber.

Perdy informed me last night that I received an answering letter. It was very tempting not to tear open the letter there and then, but I haven't yet had the chance to tell Garen about my brilliant plan.

Which is why lunch today will be spent with my lovely husband. Convincing him to finally let me provide the help I know that I can.

I excuse myself from the meeting of the leaches of high society and return to my room to retrieve the letter from Aunt Ostelinda. I also send a message to my busy king gently ordering him to join me for lunch, implying that I am lonely, and will wait for him until he comes to see me. Garen has far too much of a conscience to leave me without at least coming to make excuses in person.

I wait on one of the many balconies, letter in hand. I wait for a long time, longer than I anticipated. An hour crawls by before Garen sheepishly joins me.

"Mirabel..." He scolds softly, "you know I haven't the time for this."

I flutter my eyes and press my hand to my breastbone, "a wife needs time with her husband my darling."

Garen shakes his head and turns to leave.

"And," I continue, "I have a potential business opportunity that your loyal merchants will kiss your feet for."

Slowly, my husband takes the seat across from me at the table.

"When I offered to keep our engagement intact, I did say it would be a business arrangement." He says somewhat amused.

I place the letter between us on the table, the seal of the Kelpis government on the envelope.

"I sent a letter to my Aunt Ostelinda in Kelpis nearly a month ago, proposing that we give our best horse breeds to the Kelpis government in exchange for an exclusive lumber agreement. They never sell to anyone but us, with the first three years of deliveries paid in full by the horses." I explain.

Garen picks up the letter, "and what is her reply?"

I roll my eyes, "clearly, I have not opened her reply yet. I wanted your approval for the official deal before I did so."

"Well, let's find put what the answer is first." He breaks the seal and pulls out the reply.

"Don't be nosy!" I cry, snatching the paper from his hands.

Garen frowns, "I thought you wanted me to read it?"

I roll my eyes, "she's my aunt! We didn't just talk about business. There is personal information in here as well."

"Then read it." Garen grounds out frustratedly.

He can be quite grumpy when he's tired. Which is all the time. But I know when it is okay to push him a little bit. Still, I am equally as curious as two what is written in the letter, so I open the letter, and start to read.