worried that Brennus would stop finding her attractive."
Loethar made a brief noise of scorn. "I find that very hard to believe. Perhaps if you hadn't killed her, I could have married her!"
"I do hope the walls don't have ears, sir," Freath said dryly and Loethar gave him a wry glance, knowing they were both well aware of Valya's unpredictable tantrums. "Brennus was butter around her."
"Is that so?"
"'Besotted' is probably the right word. Few couples achieve such devotion."
Loethar grunted. Freath's counsel was no comfort at all. In fact, it served only to alienate him further. Marriage to Valya was a trial. Since the lavish wedding that he'd had to force himself to get through, she had become insatiable for power and wealth, especially the outward trappings of both. He understood why: she was proclaiming to the former Set people that while they had once gossipped and tittered behind her back at the reneging of the Valisar betrothal, now she was empress they were required to pay her homage. And once she delivered Loethar his heir at last, her position was truly sealed.
"Well, Valya's had a lot of unhappiness in her life. And not falling pregnant for so long has been a heavy burden for her. But that is changed now. Perhaps our son will bring her enough joy to leave her darkness behind."
Freath straightened. "You told me once that our empress had bravely defied man, beast and nature to find you on the plains but I cannot account for the significant gap of years between Brennus deserting their troth and my lady reappearing in Penraven a decade ago."
"It is of no harm for you to know, I suppose. Valya's father blamed her for Brennus's rejection, even though she hadn't seen her husband-to-be for more than a year. The king sent his only daughter and heir to a convent that nestled within Lo's Teeth, all but imprisoning her with the nuns. She admitted to me a long time ago that she was sure she turned mad for a while - several years probably. And while time scarred over her wounds, it never quelled her fury." He stretched, reached for his glass on the weaven table nearby. "She escaped." He yawned. "And then came looking for the Steppes people. She made it through those mountains alone. Impressive."
Freath paused, considering this. Loethar waited, sipping his wine. "So..." the aide began, frowning. "Was the attack the empress's idea, my lord? This is old history now - it can't matter if you share it."
"It was no one's idea in particular," Loethar lied. "I was a rebellious man, not satisfied with leading the Steppes people and wanting a whole lot more than the scrubby plains and the occasional visit from Set traders who felt they were superior to us. And then along came this striking woman out of nowhere, half-starved and with a rage to suit my own. She gave voice to what I was already thinking."
"And history was made, my lord," Freath said lightly.
Loethar sipped his wine again and turned away to regard the view out of the window. "Seems hard to believe it was a decade ago that we stormed Brighthelm. I feel as if I belong here."
Freath blinked. "You do, my lord."
"We've integrated well, don't you think, Freath?"
"Yes, my lord, surprisingly well."
"So many mixed marriages," Loethar continued. "I'm very glad to see that the mingling of bloods has begun."
"General Stracker might not agree," Freath added, conversationally.
"He's short-sighted, Freath. Most of the Denovian people would be enriching the soil if it had been left to him. There'd be no one left to make an empire," Loethar replied, yet again wishing his half-brother had even a fraction of his aide's insight. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he nodded at Freath's inquiring look.
Freath opened the door and spoke briefly. Then closed it again, turning to Loethar. "It's time to go, my lord."
Loethar began buttoning his midcoat. Freath dutifully held out the jacket. "I hate all this formal wear, Freath."
"I know you do, my lord, but it's necessary. Can't have you looking like a barbarian." They both smiled at the quip. "What news from the north, sir?"
Loethar shrugged, allowing Freath to quickly do up his jacket while he struggled with his collar. "All quiet for now. We've had patrols moving through the forest. The notorious highwayman and his daring minions elude me but we've silenced them for a while. There's been no activity in the region for several moons."