Queen of the Unwanted Page 35

  Chanlix smiled with a hint of calculation in her eyes. “We’ll see how those beliefs fare when she sees the alternatives that are possible here in Women’s Well. If there are any cracks in her devotion to the ways of Khalpar, I will find them.”

  “Fair enough. But keep in mind that she will be forced to return to Khalpar when her days here are over. King Khalvin would never allow one of his Unwanted Women to escape the Abbey.”

  Chanlix sighed. “No, I suppose not. Maybe it’s cruel to rub her nose in a life that can never be hers even if she wants it. But I believe—or at least I hope—that change is coming to the abbeys. There is only so long they can cling to the old ways now that women have more options in life. If nothing else, I can send her home with the seeds of revolution in her heart. That can only help women in general—and Women’s Well in specific—in the long run.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Mairah was practically dead on her feet when, just as the sun began to set, the Khalpari delegation was finally invited to enter Women’s Well. She barely saw the tiny inn her escorts bundled her and Norah into, and when she arrived in the room she was forced to share with Norah—for King Khalvin was happy to offer the Crown’s money to speed the journey, but he’d insisted on frugality in everything else—she collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep fully clothed.

  She had never slept so hard and deeply in her life, and she didn’t awaken until the sun was high in the sky and hunger drew her to the inn’s bustling common room. Norah was still snoring in her bed when Mairah exited the room to find two of the four guards who’d accompanied them from Khalpar standing watch outside. For their “protection,” no doubt.

  She descended the stairs and found the other two guards sitting at the common room’s bar. Mairah felt immediately oppressed by their presence. They both pretended to be intensely interested in their food, but she was nonetheless aware that they were watching her out of the corners of their eyes. And that they had not been sent for her protection.

  She took a seat at a small table in a corner as far away from the guards as she could get, mightily sick of their company. The cads had complained frequently about having to escort abigails who were too homely, in Mairah’s case, or too old, in Norah’s, to service them as they felt they deserved for the inconvenience of the trip. Never mind that they were being paid and that guarding caravans of cargo was their usual job.

  Mairah was enjoying a bowl of excellent stew when the inn door opened and a middle-aged woman walked in. She was unremarkable in most ways, her face forgettable and her blue dress not especially fashionable, although even from a distance Mairah could see the quality of it. Mairah was already looking away again, ready to return her concentration to her meal, when her mind caught up with her and she glanced sharply upward again.

  Unremarkable the woman might at first have appeared—except for the golden medallion that was pinned to the bodice of her simple dress. A medallion that marked her as the Grand Magus of Women’s Well!

  Mairah’s spoon plunked back down into her bowl, and she found herself staring in the most embarrassing manner. She’d heard, of course, that the Women’s Well Academy included both men and women in its ranks—an unheard of situation, when elsewhere in Seven Wells women’s magic was confined to the abbeys or, in the case of Nandel, forbidden altogether. But no one had seen fit to tell her that the grand magus was a woman, and it had never occurred to her to ask.

  The grand magus picked Mairah out of the sparse crowd easily—she was the only one wearing the red robes of an abigail. Smiling in greeting, her expression warmer than those Mairah was used to having directed her way, the woman crossed the room toward her. For her part, Mairah was still staring and gaping, her mouth having gone dry with something akin to panic, though she could not explain why that should be.

  The grand magus reached the table, her smile still firmly in place, forming deep crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. Her face was deeply tanned, which would have made her look like a peasant if not for the fine silk dress and a pair of sapphire earrings that dangled from her lobes.

  “You must be Sister Norah,” the grand magus said in heavily accented Parian, reaching out her hand to shake like a man. “I’m Lady Chanlix, the Grand Magus of Women’s Well.”

  Belatedly, Mairah pushed back her chair and stood, tentatively placing her hand in Lady Chanlix’s. She’d never shaken anyone’s hand before, for it was contrary to the customs of Khalpar to do so. Then again, it was contrary to the customs of anywhere in the world for a woman to be a grand magus.

  Mairah forced a smile of her own, hoping she did not look as immediately flummoxed as she felt. “Actually, I’m Mother Mairahsol,” she said, though it felt rude to contradict this great lady. She was momentarily surprised at Lady Chanlix’s knowledge of Parian, but then she remembered that the Dowager Queen of Aaltah—and no doubt a number of her ladies—was from Khalpar, and therefore it would have behooved the abigails of Aaltah to learn the language.

  Lady Chanlix’s eyes widened in surprise, and Mairah was glad to know that she was not the only one who had been unprepared for their meeting. Of course without prior warning, there was no reason for Lady Chanlix to think a woman of Mairah’s age could possibly be the Abbess of Khalpar. Norah looked far more the part, and Mairah was glad the older woman was still abed, for it would have been discomfiting to hear her addressed as if she were abbess.

  “Forgive me, Mother Mairahsol,” Lady Chanlix said, the surprise still evident in her eyes. “Not so long ago, I was the youngest abbess I had ever heard of, but I think you’ve beaten me by at least a decade.”

  The shocks just kept coming. The grand magus had been an abbess? It was unthinkable that any woman should be grand magus, much less a woman who had once been confined to an abbey. Mairah had heard tell of the occasional abigail who escaped an abbey, but it could only happen if a powerful lord was willing to marry her and plunge himself and his family into disgrace for doing it.

  “You used to be an abigail?” Mairah asked, feeling sure she must have misunderstood somehow. Perhaps Lady Chanlix’s Parian was not as well-honed as it sounded. The social ruin of being banished to an abbey was a wound from which no woman could possibly recover—at least that was what she’d always thought.

  More crinkles formed at the corners of the grand magus’s eyes. “For more than two decades,” she confirmed. “You will find the customs and practices of Women’s Well are far different from what you are used to in Khalpar. Or elsewhere in Seven Wells, for that matter.”

  Mairah certainly didn’t think of herself as conservative or prudish, and yet she’d already been thoroughly shocked by what she’d learned. She had an unsettling feeling that there were plenty more surprises to come, and once more she cursed the king’s impatience. Her mission would have been so much easier if she’d had time to prepare in advance. She felt slow and stupid from the long and uncomfortable journey, unsure how to handle all this new information.

  Lady Chanlix reached out and touched Mairah’s hand briefly. “You will enjoy your time here with us,” the grand magus said. “It is a life I never could have imagined for myself when I was first sent to the Abbey.”

  Mairah swallowed hard, fighting down the tiniest hint of panic, for even if all went impossibly well and she found a way to reverse the Curse—or at least found a way to convince the king she had a hope of it so he would allow her to remain abbess—she would return to Khalpar to be shut behind the Abbey’s walls once more.

  “It is an extraordinary accomplishment,” Mairah said, trying to quell the longing that instantly welled in her soul.

  Lady Chanlix smiled. “I’ve found that a great many extraordinary accomplishments are possible in Women’s Well. I’m sure we will be successful in finding a cure for your, er, plum blight.”

  The sparkle in her eyes said the verbal stumble had not been on account of a lack of proficiency in Pa
rian. She and her sovereign princess were well aware that the plum blight was merely a pretext. Either they were confident the true mission would fail, or they were so desperate for a shipment of gems that they’d felt obligated to take a gamble.

  “I do hope so,” Mairah responded with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

  “When you’ve had time to settle in, I would like to show you around. If your abbey is anything like mine was, you’ve had little chance to explore outside its walls. I’d love to give you a taste of that freedom while you’re here.”

  Lady Chanlix looked her up and down quickly with a staged frown. “But not until you’ve met with the seamstress.” There was a too-knowing look in her eyes when she smiled. “We have no abbey here in Women’s Well, and a woman’s worth is not judged by her usefulness to men. Princess Alysoon has generously agreed to send over a couple of dresses for you and Sister Norah to wear during your stay. A seamstress will bring them by within the hour and alter them as necessary.”

  Mairah gaped at the other woman like an idiot. “W-what?” she stammered.

  “There are no Unwanted Women here in Women’s Well,” Lady Chanlix said firmly. “The red robes are neither necessary nor appropriate.”

  Mairah’s eyes strayed to the two guardsmen, who were still sitting at the bar and were now openly watching her. She could only imagine their outrage at seeing her and Norah dressed as ordinary women. They technically had no authority over her or Norah, but she’d spent enough time in their presence to know they would not let that stop them from showing their disapproval—with their fists, if necessary. But the thought of wearing a dress…Any dress, even the plainest, would feel like an unparalleled luxury after years of wearing the shapeless robes.

  “We will make it clear to your escort that Princess Alysoon has forbidden the wearing of robes,” Lady Chanlix said gently. “No blame will fall upon you or your abigail.”

  Mairah wasn’t sure whether a royal decree would dissuade their loutish escorts from expressing their displeasure, but it was clear she didn’t have much choice but to lay her robes aside for the duration of her stay.

  Chanlix was smiling at her warmly, her expression guileless, but it was not hard to see that she was trying to seduce Mairah with the possibilities of Women’s Well. Perhaps she—and Princess Alysoon—hoped Mairah would be so enchanted with the place that she would neglect her true mission. Or perhaps they intended to disrupt the mission more openly by offering her a lure they believed she could not resist.

  A lure that she must find the will to resist, no matter how tempting the grand magus might make it sound. She was the Abbess of Khalpar, and the title curtailed nearly as many freedoms as it granted. She was not some nobody abigail who could disappear and not be missed or pursued. She did not doubt that her “escorts” were under orders to prevent her from escaping at all costs, else the king would never have agreed to send her in the first place.

  “You are very kind, Lady Chanlix,” she said. “We will set aside our robes for the sake of being good guests, but we are still Unwanted Women, and it will be best for all if we keep to ourselves as much as possible. We do not wish to embarrass our kingdom by making public spectacles of ourselves.”

  Chanlix’s eyes met and held hers for a long moment, and Mairah cringed inside, for she was sure the grand magus read the longing in her. Then Chanlix inclined her head.

  “The offer remains open,” she said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Mairah smiled despite the worry that brewed in her core. In her past, she had shown herself all too easy to seduce, but this time, she would stand strong in the face of all the temptations Women’s Well offered.

  Because whatever those temptations might be, Mairah knew they were out of her reach. She was the property of the Crown of Khalpar, and the guards that kept so careful a watch on her were a constant reminder that she was in effect a prisoner of the Abbey. It wasn’t as if Women’s Well could afford to shelter her if she took it into her head to refuse to go back to Khalpar. If she were somehow able to escape those guards, she would have to flee to Aaltah or Grunir—with no money, little knowledge of the area, only the most clumsy comprehension of the language, and, thanks to the pockmarks, a far-too-recognizable face.

  Returning to Khalpar as an ordinary abigail who had failed her mission would be terrible—returning as a captured fugitive would be far, far worse.

  * * *

  —

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” Chanlix said, smiling and shaking her head at Kailee, who had walked brazenly into her office, with no sign of an escort or chaperone. It seemed her stepmother had finally lightened her grip on the reins now that the engagement was official, though Chanlix suspected Lady Vondelmai had no idea how much Kailee was taking advantage of that freedom. There was, as always, a wisp of veil attached to her fashionable hat, but the wisp was tucked up out of the way.

  Kailee laughed lightly and took a seat before the desk, moving with surprising ease for one who could not see. “No doubt Lady Vondelmai is even now having a case of the vapors with no idea why. I’ve precious little time left to torture her before I become officially someone else’s problem, so I must take advantage of what I have.”

  Chanlix laughed despite herself, for it was said with not an ounce of malice, only humor. “So to what do I owe this unexpected visit?” she inquired. “I presume you are not here solely for the purpose of shocking your stepmother.”

  “I admit not,” Kailee said, still grinning. “I have come to you with a proposition that is almost guaranteed to turn her hair gray overnight. Or at least it would if she ever found out about it.”

  Chanlix regarded the young woman warily. “And what might that be?”

  “In a town as small as this,” Kailee answered in easy Parian, “it is hard to miss the arrival of the delegation from Khalpar. Tynthanal told me both why they say they’re here and why you all think they’re here.”

  Chanlix was momentarily taken aback that Tynthanal and Kailee appeared to have had an actual conversation, although that was hardly surprising considering they were engaged. Theirs might be a sham marriage, but now that Tynthanal had finally accepted the inevitable—and that Lady Vondelmai had relaxed her vigilance—it seemed the future bride and groom were trying to get acquainted. It was likely a testament to Kailee’s powers of persuasion that she’d managed to pry sensitive information from Tynthanal. Although in truth her mind was so sharp there was little doubt she’d have figured all of that out on her own and only asked him to confirm what she already suspected.

  “Is there a reason we are suddenly speaking Parian?” Chanlix asked.

  “I’ve heard that the abbess does not speak Continental,” Kailee replied. “As I am adept at languages, I thought I’d offer to tutor her while she is here so that she need not feel too isolated.”

  Chanlix switched the conversation back into Continental. “I’m sure your stepmother would be overjoyed at your charitable offer and would not for a moment balk at the thought of you spending time with someone who is even as we speak an Unwanted Woman, whether she wears the robes or not.”

  “That is why I’ve concocted an alternative explanation for her ears.”

  Chanlix groaned softly, feeling just the slightest hint of sympathy for Lady Vondelmai. Chanlix certainly didn’t like the woman, but she imagined acquiring a stepdaughter like Kailee had been quite the challenge. “I’m sure you have nothing but the most noble intentions,” she began, choosing her words carefully.

  “I do,” Kailee said before Chanlix could finish the thought. “You are going to be hosting the abbess here at the Academy, and she is going to be spell crafting. I don’t imagine she would brazenly and openly work on a malicious or dangerous spell here, but it seems to me it would behoove Women’s Well to keep a very careful eye on her activities.”

  “Which is why we are putt
ing her in a room with the novices, whose instructor will monitor the abbess.”

  Kailee nodded. “While still attempting to teach her class. Which means she will be in danger of missing something. She can’t have her Mindseye open all the time, and her attention will perforce be divided. Whereas my Mindseye is naturally open all the time, and I can watch what the abbess is doing. Unless she is stupid, she will suspect me of spying on her, but she can’t legitimately claim offense under the circumstances.”

  Chanlix had to admit there was some truth to Kailee’s argument, though she was far from fully convinced. “So you’re planning to give her all-day, every-day language lessons?”

  She was not surprised that there was more to Kailee’s plan than that, for it was clear the girl had put a great deal of thought into her proposal. “Well, that’s where the alternative explanation I plan to give my stepmother comes into play. The language lessons are merely a pretext to engage the abbess in conversation. I will tell my stepmother that I am coming to the Academy to work with your spell crafters toward finding a ‘cure’ for my blindness.”

  Chanlix leaned back in her chair and regarded Kailee with amazement. “Your supposedly more palatable explanation will be that you’re doing magic?” she asked, her voice rising with disbelief.

  “Well, I will be purposely vague about what it means to ‘work with’ your spell crafters. And yes, ordinarily the very thought of my setting foot in the Academy under any but the most dire circumstances would drive her to hysterics. But in her mind, my blindness is a dire circumstance. The thought that we might be able to cure it—especially before I have been wed to Tynthanal—will be a temptation she cannot resist.

  “She is not a stupid woman, and she knows full well that extracting me from the marriage would be exceedingly problematic now that the agreement has been signed, but that will not stop her from dreaming of a ‘better’ future for me. She is pleased beyond words that we have found a man who will have me, and she feels that marrying me to Tynthanal is by far my best prospect as things stand. But she does fear for me living here in Women’s Well, and she would be far happier to arrange a less exalted but safer marriage. She does love me, in her own way.”