It was during one
of my rest bits that I saw you. You will doubtless remember your family’s visit
to court in midsummer. Probably you remember seeing me as well. What you could
not have realized was that of the hundreds of great men and women present I
cared only to see you.
I could not let
your family leave the court without speaking to you. Fortunately Shay was away
at the time and I invited your family to a private dinner, ostensibly to thank
your father for his service in the Westeroth rebellion. You know what I saw at that dinner. A scene,
which, I am sure, was only a small taste of what you suffered at the hands of
your aunt. When I gave you away I thought it was for the best. I thought… I
imagined… Well, none of that matters now. What I saw of your aunt that night
shattered all my illusions about the situation I had left you in.
At the same time I
was proud of you. You never argued or repaid your aunt’s treatment in kind but
I saw the fire in your eyes and knew that she had not broken you. The little
you were allowed to say was full of good sense and I was certain that you were
a son I would never need to be ashamed of.
I called for your
Uncle the next day, furious that he had allowed his wife to treat you with such
contempt. I met with a guilt-ridden and overwhelmed man, who, despite his
kindness and battle-field valor, was no match for his overbearing wife. From
the very beginning she had resented you and, having never liked Aria and assuming
that you were illegitimate, she let all of her anger and frustrations out on
you. Your uncle begged me to take you, but at that point it was impossible. Shay
had gained so much power already and my health was failing fast.
Perhaps
I should have brought you to court as a squire or arranged for some family in
the capital to foster you. We could have had at least had some kind of
relationship. But I feared even that proximity to Shay and, in the end, I paid
for you to attend school far away from both your Aunt and my wife. At Elgaboth I
hoped you would find safety, happiness, and training worthy of a king. And,
from what John tells me, I believe you did.
It was not long
after that, not long at all, when I became bedridden. I finally opened my eyes,
far too late, to what my wife was, and what she was doing to me. I tried, far
too late, to exert my authority so that she would never rule. I called, far too
late, on every alliance, in the hope that someone could stop her. No one could
even get through to talk to me.
Finally when I
felt death approaching, when desperation seized hold of me, when there was
nothing else left, I had Roland take a secret message to Marcus. And Marcus,
who I had not spoken to in almost twenty years, sent his only son. I hear him
pacing as I write this. He says he can visit only once more. It will not be
long now. Shay has enough support to be queen in her own right. She does not
need me and whatever poison she has been using for all these years has left
very little of me to kill.
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