ours,” her mother said, and this time she was darkly amused. “Thanks to the recklessness of Morimaros the Great.”
The prince, wise for once, chose not to disagree. Hal licked her lips, thinking. “Then maybe this is a game, or a test? A reminder of their strength after the rebellion. Their challenge to a new queen?”
Celeda smiled grimly. “That, my daughter, is exactly the sort of behavior to expect from a queen of Innis Lear. Especially after that performance at my tournament last summer.”
“How will you answer then? If they’ve taken Mora hostage, how will you respond? Pay ransom, or send a force to steal her back?”
“It will be some days before a ransom could be begged.”
“But you already know what you will do.”
“How I act depends on many things, Calepia. How swiftly Hotspur retakes the March. The phrasing of the ransom request. If they even make such a request. It is possible Mora is less a hostage and more a willing Errigal lady returning to her family.”
“You have to sue for her return, Mother—show her you want her back. She’ll come home.”
Celeda remained silent.
“Don’t you want her home?” Hal paused to regain her ground. “Banna Mora chose us, this place, over Lear. She gave everything of herself to Aremoria.”
“And we took it away from her.”
“She’s not your enemy,” Hal said, absolutely certain.
“She is perceived to be so, by many. And constantly rumors rise and fall about her loyalties, about what she would do if given a chance to retake the throne. Perhaps it is better for her to be on Innis Lear.”
“No!” Hal stood. “It makes you look weak to fear her like that.”
“It made me look weak to allow her to attend my court, to keep the March.”
“That was the right thing to do. She is not Rovassos, and you are not Rovassos, swayed by temper! Mora is a good woman, a strong knight, and she was a brilliant heir. You look stronger to have her as an ally.”
Again, Celeda remained quiet, unblinking.
Hal glanced almost desperately toward Abovax. The commander grunted. He said, “When Banna Mora is here, you reflect poorly, Prince.”
“I …” Hal gaped at her mother. She could think of no response.
“The true heart of the matter, daughter, is that I do not know if Banna Mora is my ally.”
“Treating her like no friend at all will certainly make her an enemy. You must show her loyalty if you would have hers.”
Celeda shook her head. “You are naive. Queens do not perform loyalty, it is owed to them. And either a queen has it, or she does not. Do you recall Rovassos performing friendship, loyalty? With his charm and favors? Those things came into conflict frequently and he had no core integrity. He did not know how to trust anyone. That is what lost him his head. I do know how to trust, but I am careful with that trust.”
“I trust her,” Hal said softly. She went around the desk and to her knees beside her surprised mother. The queen turned slightly in her chair, hands falling to her lap. Hal said, “I trust Banna Mora, Mother. Your Majesty. Do you … trust me?”
Celeda’s lips trembled slightly, her hesitation telling Hal the answer. “I want to,” Celeda replied, just as softly. “I love you.”
Hal lowered from her knees to slump back on her heels, head bowed.
“Why are you giving in to the characterization of the lion of the Innis Lear prophecy?” Celeda asked.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
Celeda did not move; her eyes looked through Hal, toward some future or chance invisible to her daughter. “Breaking, daughter. You have been dubbed the lion, and instead of it making you bright and brave, you act as though you are breaking, just like in the prophecy. Giving credence to the entire thing.”
“You don’t … it’s a … you don’t believe in destiny or that we need the approval of spirits and stars.”
“Oh, but we need the approval of Aremoria, Calepia Bolinbroke. Aremoria is its people, and sometimes its people consider spirits and superstition! How do you think we shed old religions? How have the kings of Aremoria made themselves into the ultimate authority?”
“Stories,” Hal whispered.
“Extremely good stories. I’d have said legends, for when you say stories it sounds like a children’s pastime, and this is no game.”
“I know that!” the prince climbed to her feet, awkward in her anger as she looked down at her royal mother.
Do you? the queen’s eyes wondered.
Hal said, licking her lips, “I know it matters,