Page 41 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
She sighed. “And me?”
“You will become the Grand Duchess Regnant, a Grand Duchess powerful in her own right and able to exercise her power over a duchy, which is part of my queendom and previously was the kingdom of King Raise. I believe you would be shackled in your duke’s place. I believe that he will become a champion of my queendom. I believe that only one of you was able to balance love and purpose. You are overdue the freedom and power to go about this. Your husband is overdue the freedom of being free from it.”
“You have many beliefs and not much else,” said Princess Take.
I dipped my head. “This is unprecedented. I am not arrogantenough to suppose how ancients might need to balance the equation of power. These are the things I believe will come to fruition, and I could well be incorrect. This could well lead to ruin, both because I operate on instinct and likely connection, and because?—”
“My husband could resent me and you,” said Princess Raise.
That should not be underestimated. King Raise had been a king for an age. He had grown to think of himself in this way, and identify in this way. He, alone amongst kings, would be asked or forced to humble himself to the title of Duke. Princess Raise’s part was easier—she was ascending to greater power. She was being given the proper tools for a job she had undertaken for centuries, even when locked away for so many years at a time.
Princess Raise had manipulated, persuaded, and convinced her husband into that ploy. “I have faith in your ability to present this to your king. When the time comes, I will wield my power to increase your ancient ability and lessen his, but the matter must arise from love.”
“You ask me to wield our love like a weapon,” she said raggedly.
Whether love, lust, lack of trust, indifference, or betrayal, each monstrous romance wielded its fault as a weapon. Love was the harshest weapon of all. It chipped away at a person in every waking moment of each night. The Raises had hurt each other in this invisible way since first daring to love.
And how beautiful that dark fate, for they wished to be deeper and deeper in the feeling and never free of it. Love was the deadliest and most alluring predator.
There were many things that princesses should not know. “I would ask that you do what is necessary to save your union. Before a queen, a princess could not have been granted the power to fulfill her destiny. You have always been meant for this, Princess Raise. From your birth. Ancients had to use theirresources wisely until I arrived to help. Trust in the unfolding of your monsterdom.”
“I must, and yet I fear.”
“You fear because you are wise,” I told her. “Go about this as you see fit. Know that time is of the essence.”
Sand trickled into the hole, no matter our feelings.
Princess Change stared at her hands. “My union is broken beyond repair.”
“You cannot break what was never there,” I said gently.
The princess still winced.
I said, “Your trust was contractual, and so was not trust at all. You have relied and depended on his power to curb you to the terms of that contract. Under my power, those terms are obsolete, and so your union has been swept into flood waters and neither of you has any skill at swimming.”
“You want King No Change to trust her again?” Princess Take laughed coldly.
I could appreciate the irony, if not the clear difficulty of expecting change from the king incapable of it. “There is truth in what they share. I have seen it in the way his eyes track her in a room. I have seen it in the way she wishes to do her best for him. This is the princess who defied the orders of a queen to make amends despite uncertain consequences. Until recently, your king clearly trusted that you would endeavor to always free him.”
“But now I am too aware of the single reason for my existence,” said the princess of change. “You declared this before everyone, including him. So he understands that we do not share the same reason for being. I believe in ruin, but I can do with it. My king cannot.”
She was right.
Princess Raise had shaken off some of the weight of her future task, and said, “I am not the same as my husband, but we trust one another. Princess Take does not share the moral hauntings of her king, but they trust each other in the flesh—and she trusts him in more ways too.” The princess turned her head my way, then bit off the rest of her comment.
My lips torsioned in a wry smile. “My turn is coming, Princess Raise. I am not exempt from this reckoning.”
Princesses were shocked. Princesses were stumped.
“But a queen?” blurted Princess Change.
“A queen,” I confirmed. “But what of a princess building trust with her king?”
Princess Raise slumped back on the couch, and it was a wonder that her suit never showed a crease. “That is the matter. Trust must be built. Broken trust must take a great deal of time to mend. It would be better if she had never agreed to the terms of his union.”
Princess Change glared at her. “It would be better if your king was not weak.”
Yes, yes. It would be better if I had never loved. “Such thinkings and comments do not heal anything. You are right that mending trust will take more time than we have. There is an answer, I am certain and hopeful, but if obsessions have taught me anything, it is that we must pick up a pebble to see what landslide results. What is at the root of trust?”
