AYLETH
Her mother sat, buttering a scone, but her eyes followed Ayleth. "I know your father has kept you very sheltered, Ayleth. But… I think you should know: Should the opportunity arise for you to become… intimate with these men… I will not fault you for it."
Ayleth blinked. "I know you spoke of… practicing mother. But I thought the honor of… the virtue… I thought it was preferable to many cultures—"
"In secret, of course," her mother said with a sly grin. "While I understand the importance, your father is far more uptight in his traditions and morals—especially for you. But I do believe you should take any opportunity you can to ensure that your… connection with the right young man is profitable. And if there is a question, better it be answered before your lives are entwined forever."
"Well," Ayleth replied breathlessly as her mother's gaze sharpened, awaiting her response. "I have told you before, I'm certain that whomever I eventually marry, we will find our way together. Though likely we will have much more important things to fill our time than—"
"Don't gamble on it," the Queen quipped. Then she leaned on the table and regarded Ayleth. "I do admire your practical attitude to marriage, Ayleth. It will serve you and Zenithra well."
Ayleth nodded once. "Thank you, Mother."
"But I do wish to see you enjoy the marriage bed. It will offer a great deal more excitement to your life than Land Treatises and court audiences, I assure you."
"I'm sure you're right, Mother." She dug into her breakfast.
"Ayleth, look at me." Ayleth, startled, forced herself to put her fork down and raise her head and meet her mother's eyes. The Queen had small frown lines between her brows. She would hate them if she could see them, Ayleth knew. "Today you will walk into an arena brimming with young, powerful men. They will all want you, do you understand that? You are the greatest prize of the nations. Much as I hate to endure this pageant of goodwill between the Kingdoms, I cannot deny the coming weeks create the ideal opportunity for you to find the best possible match. Do not waste it."
"I won't, mother. I fully expect to end the Festival betrothed. I am only unconfident in my own ability to understand the… measure of a man. Once I have found a good one, I am certain I can make it work between us."
The Queen's lips twisted like she'd tasted something sour. "I curse your father for his old-fashioned morals and the way it has left you so isolated from male company. You would be far more comfortable if—but no matter. We cannot change the past." She regarded Ayleth again, the intensity of her gaze unnerving. "I wish to see you happy and successful as a Queen, Ayleth."
"I know mother."
"But I fear you do not understand the difference between success in your work—your rule—and in your home. When the doors are closed and the audiences gone, you will need to enjoy your husband. Otherwise, your life will… lack color."
"Yes, mother. You've spoken of this before."
Her mother nodded and held a hand across the table. "Take my hand, Ayleth," she said quietly.
Touched by the softness in her mother's face, Ayleth did as she was told—then froze. When her fingers linked with her mothers, it was as if something held her there. And her mother's eyes… changed. While Ayleth was frozen in her grip, she watched her mother's eyes light with an unholy fire.
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