Free King by R. J. Larson Page A

her beloved nursemaid and her capering hound, both delighted to see her. “Issa! Naynee! You’ve stayed?”
    She wasn’t completely abandoned in this cold palace—such a relief!
    Naynee beamed, her dear ruddy face alight with joy. “Your lord-father guessed he’d no reason to feed your dog or your servant any longer, lady. He left us here, if you’ll have us.”
    â€œOh, you know I will!” Unless the king refused. Caitria cast a fearful look at Akabe, silently imploring his agreement. He had absolute control over every aspect of her life now.
    The king remained silent, studying Naynee as if trying to judge the influence she might wield. If only he knew how loving Naynee was! How disinterested in political maneuverings! Please . . .
    Just as she was about to kneel before him and beg, despite the gathering courtiers, Akabe nodded. “I agree. Naynee and Issa will be the first official members of your household.”
    â€œThank you, sir!” She stifled an undignified whoop.
    The king seized her hand—a subtle smile lurking about his handsome mouth. “Now,” he murmured, “one favor for another. . . . Come with me today, lady. Majesty . Not to the council meetings—I won’t bore us both with those—but come visit the property we’ve granted Siphra. Nothing formal or announced. A surprise inspection.”
    The property they’d granted Siphra? That wretched temple land! She was grateful for his indulgence, but he could leave her out of his religion! Didn’t he understand how vengeful the Ateans would be if she gave the slightest appearance of following the Infinite?
    And yet, what else could she do? Would the Ateans understand the extent of her isolation? Her virtual imprisonment here—abandoned by her family and surrounded by hostile courtiers?
    Forcing herself to think of less frightful things, Caitria nodded. “Of course, sir. I’ve never been. Can you imagine? My life’s controlled by land I’ve never seen.”
    â€œYou haven’t traveled?”
    â€œNot since Mother died ten years past. I’ve been isolated on our estates. My lord-father . . . has been busy.” Too busy to do more than snap at her or lash out when she offended him. If only Mother had lived! Safer to not remember Mother now—risking a display of weakness before all these haughty courtiers.
    As they walked along the huge marble-columned corridor, Caitria shivered despite the stunning surroundings. The palace was too opulent for her tastes. She loved coziness. Here highly wrought carvings of birds, flowers, and trees fretted the white marble columns, arcades, and walls like stonework embroidery—all coldly forbidding her to touch them. Semiprecious gems and gilding sparkled overhead on the soaring ceilings in massive sunbursts of gold and crimson that dazzled her and made her feel like an intruder.
    But the king’s chambers were worse. She couldn’t move in those dim rooms without fear of breaking something priceless and irreplaceable.
    Didn’t he possess a refuge in the palace? A sunlit chamber where one could flop onto a couch or into a cushioned window seat with a favorite collection of stories, then read until a nap took hold? Did kings and queens even indulge in naps?
    This whole situation promised a dismal life.
    Silent, she accompanied her new husband as he ordered his servants and guards to prepare for the impromptu temple inspection. It seemed almost natural to ride beside him in a plain open chariot through Munra’s streets. And, despite her predetermined loathing, the vast temple site amazed her with its white steps and immense smooth-slabbed paving stones, not to mention the multitudes of workmen.
    Yet the king scanned the site, visibly tensing. Speaking so softly that Caitria almost didn’t hear, he said, “Those men don’t belong here. Too well-dressed to be