The Loneliest Ballad

Celia looked at the ambassador over her shoulder, her whole body quivering with the urge to run as far and as fast as she could.

"I appreciate you going to the trouble you have with this letter, my lady." he said.

Celia pursed her lips into a thin line for a moment and repeated her lie. "This is my husband's gesture, I'm simply delivering it." Part of her, the selfish part, wanted to claim credit for her efforts.

But what would that achieve? Nothing good, she told herself.

"I met your grandfather years ago, a most cunning and formidable man." Lord Da'ar said thoughtfully. "It's no accident he has ruled as long as he has, yet involved himself in few real wars. He has always been clever in building and maintaining foreign alliances, because he knows no country is an island."

Celia said nothing.

"There are things in life we all know to be true. There are also things we acknowledge that we must all pretend are true, when we know the reality behind them is quite different." he continued. "I know you bring this letter of friendship to Irquis at cost to yourself, because you see the value in maintaining relationships. You see what your husband doesn't."

Celia subconsciously touched the corner of her mouth where her lip was split. "I'm merely a wife. I can't make him see what he doesn't want to see." she whispered.

"That's true, Your Highness. But you can make others see you instead."

"I don't…I'm not sure I understand."

"His Majesty King Aron won't be on the throne forever. One day in the not too distant future, we'll all be bending the knee to King Tobin and you'll be at his side." Lord Da'ar spoke quietly.

"And so?" Celia bit out, then instantly regretted her tone. "I don't mean to sound harsh, sir, but whether I'm a princess or a queen doesn't change things much for me. My husband doesn't regard me or seek my advice."

"More fool him. But if you show yourself to be clever in your own right and willing to build bridges with others, you'll find that many of those others will eventually regard you and seek your advice." he said. "Through this short visit now, you've shown yourself as a lady of character to me. There's several other ambassadors out there," Lord Da'ar gestured at the doors, "who are currently feeling snubbed by the House of Tralhamir. I'd be reaching out the hand of friendship to them as well."

Celia slowly turned to fully face the ambassador as she considered his words. He was suggesting she begin forming personal relationships with other diplomats, not just by virtue of being Tobin's wife.

But by virtue of being her. Celia Devon.

Was that possible? And why would other ambassadors be interested in an unloved wife?

"A woman is supposed to be her husband's helpmate." she said, voice halting and uncertain. "She's supposed to support his cause, not add life to causes of her own, isn't she?"

Lord Da'ar smiled faintly. "Ordinarily, yes. A wife rises with her husband. But if I may be very blunt here, Princess, you're not married to a man who will rise at all. Quite the opposite, actually. There is already great concern about his ability to reign effectively, for the good of his people. And if he falls, do you love His Highness so much that you're willing to fall alongside him?"

"No." The word tore from her lips before Celia could control it.

"Then I suggest you form your own allies and your own support network. You seem a clever soul. You don't need to bind yourself to a sinking vessel if you don't want to."

"Why are you telling me all this, sir?" Celia narrowed her eyes. "Why are you trying to help me? Because no one helps anyone in this life without seeing benefit for themselves."

"Ah. Spoken like a true strategist. But your words are true." the ambassador laughed heartily. "Because as you say, I do see benefits for myself. And for my country, more specifically. Havietten and Irquis share borders and common trade routes, especially along the Angelos River. These are integral to our prosperity. We'd like to see those preserved in the future."

"And you see those things under threat when Tobin becomes king?"

The man blew out a slow breath while staring into space, as if considering his next words carefully. He finally spoke. "We see a great many things under threat during the prince's rule. There is much to fear about the accession of a king that no one has bothered teaching how to be a good king. Nothing good comes from a tyrant's rule."

A tyrant, Celia thought. That's exactly what Tobin is and will be. There never has been and never will be someone to spur him on and make him want to better himself.

And I can stand passively by his side as he does as he pleases, letting him think there are no consequences because his subjects will pardon him anything.

Or I can try to forge my own separate path.

- - -

Celia quietly pushed the door to her presence chamber open and tiptoed inside the empty room. Everything was exactly as she'd left it an hour ago. Releasing a tense breath, she strode into the bedchamber, determined to change her gown.

She'd seen her reflection in one of the palace mirrors on her rush back. The cup on her lip was fairly small, fortunately. The right side of her mouth was rather bruised, but with some face powder and by colouring her lips a rosy red, she was confident she could hide the evidence for that evening's dinner in the hall.

It was only as she reached for the handle of the dressing room door that Celia heard a cool voice that made her jump.

"Where have you been?"

She turned around in fright to see Tobin reclining in a plush corner armchair. His hands were calmly folded over his thick middle and his expression was placid.

The murder in his eyes however, told Celia that her husband wasn't best pleased at all.