Free The Silences of Home by Caitlin Sweet Page B

“
explain
. The Queen sends for you?”
    They were already on the bank. He saw wise ones and small ones, and Maarenn, standing nearby, but he did not
see
them. Lanara waded toward the rowboat that would take her to the middle of the river. An older woman waited in this smaller boat, her hands ready on the oars.
    “No, she didn’t send for me,” Lanara said. “Not really. It’s my choice. But she told me about something . . . and now I must go, right away. We need every hour.”
    He reached for her hand, and she stopped walking for a moment. She raised her other hand and drew it gently down, through his hair and along his cheekbone. “I’m so sorry to leave you,” she said, “in this way, and now. But I have no choice.”
    He grasped at words and felt them tumbling away from him, into a deep space that waited. “And my choice?”
    She smiled, though her eyes did not. “You’ll make it. I’m sure of this. And I hope it will make you happy, whatever it is.” She leaned her forehead against his. “Goodbye, Nellyn.”
    Shonyn do not have a word for goodbye
, he wanted to say. He wanted to hold her, to pelt the boat with lynanyn, to shake himself awake. Instead he stood still and silent in the river. He watched Lanara row and climb and wave. He watched the Queensboat until it vanished into the darkness of the western sky.
    Dearest Lanara, this is not a happy message. Your father is ill: a fever which will not break, and sores that grow and burst on his skin. The Queen’s messenger who delivers your letters to him informed me of his illness. I am not certain how long he has been sick, and he will not tell me.
    He refused my invitation to be tended to in the palace. I am therefore sending my most skilled physicians to him each day. He also expressed displeasure when I spoke to him of contacting you. He insists that the sickness will pass, and he does not wish you to be concerned for him. I, however, believe that you must know. He is not aware that I have sent you this message.
    The Queensman who brings you this letter will stay in the shonyn village, should you decide to return to Luhr. Please be reassured that your father is receiving the best care possible, and do not feel that you
must
return. It is your decision to make. I tell you this with greatest care and affection.
    Nara. He misses you so much, and he is too proud to say so. Please come home.

NINE
    “Ladhra, Dearest Princess, you are the only dream in my heart. You are, to me, a thousand thousand fountains in the desert of my soul; a season of rains where before there was only scalding wind. I beseech you: choose me, when your time comes to pick among the scribes. I am passionate and loyal, and my skills of memory and writing are considerable after all my years of study. I love Luhr and all the growing Queensrealm, but above all, O water of my heart, I love you.”
    The paper fluttered from Ladhra’s fingers to the ground. “Ugh,” she said.
    “I thought it was sweet,” said Lanara. “Ridiculous, but sweet. What’s his name? What’s he like?” Ladhra pursed her lips and peered up into the leaves, and Lanara laughed. “That bad?”
    “He’s always squinting. And he’s covered in pimples and scars that used to be pimples. His name is Baldhron. He follows me around the palace sometimes. And Malhan sees him writing these letters when he’s supposed to be reading dispatches or transcribing the Days of the Fourteenth Queen, or the Eighteenth, or whoever.” Lanara laughed again and Ladhra smiled at her. “It’s so good to see you happy, even just for a moment. Which is why I force you to leave your house every afternoon.”
    Lanara nodded and leaned back against the enormous tree trunk behind them. “I know,” she said. “You’re surprisingly sensitive. And,” she added over Ladhra’s chuckle, “I’m glad of it. If I didn’t have you. . . .” She took a deep breath and smelled wood, ferns, wet sand. Not pus and blood, though