Free Bridge of Souls by Fiona McIntosh

impossible.
    The Queen of Briavel shook her head with despair. Almost all of this destruction swirling about her was the work of one man. One cruel, scheming, greedy man. The man she would have to marry if she wanted to prevent further death.
    She cast a disconsolate glance toward the soldiers shufflingin the shade of the copse a short distance away. Three were now being sent to shadow her every move. She hated it, but put up with it. Liryk’s caution was well founded, but she missed her freedom. She inhaled the sweet air of the moors and felt even more despondent. Everyone seemed to be worrying about her at the moment. She sensed her advisers observing her, could feel their concern tightening around her like a bandage, constricting her free will. Valentyna knew what they feared—and they were right to fear it, for if she could find a way out of this marriage, she would renege in a blink. She knew such a dream was impossible, though. No one was going to save her. The nobles had told her to find Ylena Thirsk, but that was pointless. How could it make any difference? Ylena’s word might convince them that Celimus was a cold-blooded murderer, but she knew it would not make them change their minds about the marriage.
    She thought about Ylena Thirsk and the terrible things the young woman had experienced. Crys had explained to Valentyna what Ylena had been through just to get herself to Felrawthy. It had made the Queen shudder to imagine how Wyl’s sister had coped with yet more terror after what she had already suffered at Stoneheart. Ylena was younger than she and had shown such courage. She would have to find similar courage now and face her destiny. Her father had fought to keep Briavel safe. She must do the same, just in a different manner. She would buy its peace with her body. Give it over to that hateful man, let him parade it before his minions and use her for his pleasures. But he would not have her love—ever. That belonged to one alone, and he was now dead. In giving her body to Celimus, however, she might still attain something untainted, something good. They might produce a child. And into that child she would pour all of her love, everything she denied Celimus and had hoped to give to Romen Koreldy. She would raise a proud sovereign to take the joint throne of Morgravia and Briavel one day.
    Valentyna sighed as the soft breeze tousled her already messy hair. “Give me a sign, Shar,” she said to the gentle wind,hoping it would carry her plea to the god. “Show me that marrying Celimus is the right decision.”
    She felt like weeping at her pathetic words. Instead she wiped away the single tear that had fallen, rubbed at her other eye just in case, and willed herself to be strong. She would live up to the woman her father believed she had become. She strode back toward the soldiers. They had already spotted her movement and busied themselves with preparing the horses to ride again.
    Squinting into the sun, Valentyna did not see the bird at first. It was its gentle song that attracted her attention and she looked around for the music maker. It was perched on a low branch of the great elm she was about to walk beneath. She recognized its family immediately; King Valor had been a keen bird spotter and had gone to some pains to school his only child into recognizing various species. This bird was a beautiful little chaffinch and its pretty music made her smile. She whistled back at it as she passed by, and heard it continue to sing as she departed the copse.
    It was only as Valentyna guided her horse onto Werryl Bridge some half hour later that she realized she had been humming a tune to herself on the journey back. The birdsong had reminded her of a traditional Briavellian ballad: “Wait for Me, My Love.” Valentyna had always loved its melody and its lyrics were beautiful; in fact, her fondness for the song was well known throughout the kingdom and the court minstrel had serenaded her with it on her nineteenth