Page 72 of Thief of Roses
Baró would have blanched with embarrassment to have this raised again, but he had asked her many times about the comment she made regarding the “staged atrocity.”Each time she had put him off.Until now.
“We Rivani sing of the stories for evening entertainment, to recite our histories and our trials.We sing of the stories King Luca the Coward told when he ascended the throne, the stories of his debaucheries and betrayals, the boasting of his duplicity with his brother, the conspiracy with his father to rid themselves of a prince of Rivan blood.When a crown prince and not yet a king, Luca courted a Rivan woman, gave her promises, a baby in her belly, and the name of his younger brother, Arturo, along with a gift of his brother’s hair.When the moment arrived, Luca lured Arturo out, plying him with tainted drink.When the murder and defilement of the Rivan girl had been achieved, Arturo was placed amidst the carnage, covered in her blood, and told afterward of the violence of his actions.The Rivani, having been given the name ‘Arturo’ as her suitor, obtained the gifted hair to lure him to their judgment, although he had no part.In the stories told, the Rivani murder the prince, thinking they are meting out punishment, thus giving justification to King Hemnesio’s persecutions.And yet, the prince was not murdered but punished.He has lived with his guilt for long years.I have spoken with the Magic of release to no avail.I wish, however, for all to know of his innocence.And,” she glanced at Baró, “as one who cares for him more than words can express, I plead on his behalf.When I leave here, I want him to come with me.And if such a thing cannot be achieved, then please ease his years so that he may not know any greater hardship or torment.”
“I did not harm her.”Baró collapsed on his haunches.
“You never touched her.”She moved to his side and knelt beside him.She kissed his cheek and wrapped her hands around his.“I am sorry that I have no power to change what has been done to you, but I could at least see you absolved.”
He nodded, still halfway lost in his thoughts, still reeling from the revelation.This crime was something he had taken to heart and blamed himself for centuries.He did not know how to extract it from the strange narrative of his life now that it had become such a part of him.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it in appreciation.Then he kissed her wrist and pressed her hand to his cheek again.Rivani was everything to him and she had to leave him.There would be no happy ending for him, no freedom, no future with her.
“Thank you,” he managed at last, “for trying.”
.
XXIX.
Their last weeks together could be described as nothing short of bliss.Baró had never been more affectionate even if the melancholy over Rivani’s imminent departure crept in.She refused to give up hope that something would work out and had therefore thrown herself into their relationship with an exuberance and hopeful expectation that Baró could not match.Even when Baró’s hands changed, nothing deterred them from being together.Rivani massaged his hands frequently now due to their odd shape, smaller digits still clawed, but the two larger digits now joined and those with his thumb now capped with hoof-like bone.She had known that the Magic would make good on that threat but had still been surprised and dismayed when it happened.Rivani prayed with all her might that if she were obliged to leave without Baró, at least his transformations would be over without her there to further his suffering.
They did not talk about the impending departure.The closer it came, the less it was mentioned, as if forgetting about it would make it go away.When Baró presented a new horse to Rivani for hervyardin, the cold, tangible reality settled upon her.Grateful though she may be for his thoughtfulness — and judging by the horse, it was not fond of Baró, so getting it to hervyardinastonished her — it was a matter of days.
Baró made her take their tanned furs, the finest cloth from her former bedroom, and a variety of valuables ranging from coins with King Hemnesio’s profile to jewels, the useless leftover trinkets of his earlier days that might still do her some good.Rivani took them and went through the motions, stocking hervyardinwith the rest of the candles, the herbs, the teas, the food, as if she prepared it for another and not herself.
Rivani’s little stem cutting sat in avyardinwindow, blooming with the coming of the summer.It kept company with the original rose which had taken root too, continuing to remain open and exquisite, heedless of the changing seasons.They stared at her accusingly as she packed to go.
“I have no choice,” she told them and told them often.“If I stay, he will be harmed and I will go mad between uselessness and restlessness.”And she cried in hervyardin, not wishing to show Baró tears when he himself could not cry with her.
The morning she woke to Baró stroking her hair and watching her like he might never see her again, her belly clenched.
“It’s today,” he whispered.
Had he been visited again?His sunken eyes betrayed a sleepless night.She clung to him and they joined for the last time that morning, showing the gods and the Magic and anything else that would bear witness to their coupling that their regard would endure even in their separation.
Later that morning, Rivani presented Baró with a gift, a long section of her hair that she had braided for him to keep beside the lock of fair hair.It smelled of her but not so much as the linens she gave with the braid, stained by her monthly courses.
“A blood offering for the Fir’Darl,” she told him as she ran her fingers through his mane of curls.
“Come,” he said.
He led her to his chambers, now possessing the feeling of being unused even more than when Rivani had first entered them, not surprised since he spent his nights with her now down below.He had her put the items in the vanity drawer, the braid nestled with the other in the box after he ensured that Rivani did not feel offended that they were kept together.
He brought her out to the courtyard afterward and pointed down to the rose bush.“You promised me you would take them.”
“I have enough.”
“Please.I cannot touch them myself or else I would have done it centuries ago.”
She nodded and went down one side of the staircase.She retrieved the shears she used last time.She tried to make sense of why it would be so important for her to take the roses now.And why would he have done it long ago?She stood before the rose bush trying to figure it out before she made another cut since the last time when she had harvested the flowers for their ritual.How odd it seemed from that first time, that first time when she had “stolen” a rose and set in motion the events that led to her finding and now abandoning the love of her life.
Cut.Stolen.Robbed.
Hadn’t the Magic said something like that?That fools like her had robbed the Magic of centuries?The only thing Rivani had ever “stolen” had been a rose.
A rose.
Beauty’s father had also taken something precious to Baró.
“Oh my gods.”
