In The Name of Love
24: Permission

The first rays of dawn find Kai riding Varsel at a gallop away from Adelhyod. He woke early and saw no reason to wait around or mingle. A kind servant gave him some bread and cheese for the road, and he packed his few personal belongings and slipped out before anyone else was awake.

Daybreak is his favorite time of day. He loves being outside as the world wakes up, breathing in the fresh clear air, listening to birdsong, seeing dew sparkle in the early morning sunlight. His father’s manor is not terribly far from Adelhyod—he could arrive at the manor house before nightfall, if he wanted, riding at this pace and going cross-country instead of taking the main roads—but he intends to enjoy the journey, and to spend some time in the forests on his father’s land before speaking to any of his family.

Kai and Varsel are of one mind as they ride—just glad to be alive and free, out of doors, without society’s expectations weighing them down. The young man allows the horse to choose their path, trusting he can find the way home without help. Kai would rather watch the world come alive around them as the sun rises higher in the sky than pay attention to where they are going. Rabbits and small rodents flee from Varsel’s thundering hooves. Birds serenade them overhead. Maybe I should have left Lyrnola years ago, Kai muses. There’s so much to see, so much of the natural world to explore and study. There’s so much more than just Sigurd’s grove.

“Ah, Kai. You’ve come home,” a creaking old voice greets Kai as Varsel plunges down a deer path into a thick wood, leagues away from Adelhyod. A moment later, a wizened but tall old man in earthy robes with a long, tangled beard steps out of the trees.

“Sigurd!” Kai exclaims, leaping off Varsel’s back to embrace his mentor. Varsel also skids to a halt and nickers at Sigurd, shoving his nose into the old man’s hand in search of a treat. “Bit far from the manor, aren’t you?”

“There was a moose who needed help calving, half a league or so from here. And then the birds told me you were on your way.”

“How is the moose? The calf?”

“Both healthy and doing well, when I left them. Perhaps you’ll have time to meet them soon. But I sense there is much on your mind. What happened at Court?”

Kai gives Sigurd an abbreviated version of the events of the past few days, focusing on how much there is to dislike at Court but also how he pities Fifi, how she seems trapped there.

“You think she is a kindred spirit, called by Cybarei?” Sigurd asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t told her anything, shown her anything, about…us. But she seemed far more at ease in the courtyard than inside Adelhyod,” Kai answers, remembering how she took time to appreciate individual blossoms and watch the fish trapped in the ornamental pond.

“You play with fire, Kai. A princess is not free to choose her own path. Do not forget it was her great-grandfather who ordered the executions of many fellow cybrinn years ago.”

“I know, Sigurd. I will do nothing rash. But all the same, she is not her great-grandfather, and everyone ought to have a choice as to what kind of life they will lead.”

Both are silent for a few moments, remembering how Kai stumbled across Sigurd’s hut in the woods years ago.

“My life is better for having found you, for choosing this,” Kai adds softly, gesturing to the forest around them.

“You have only the one life. Do not wager it on a whim.”

“I won’t, Sigurd. I’ll come back to visit often. But I have to spend more time at Court, to know….”

“I understand. And it will help with your father, as well.”

“Yes.”

“Go, then. I and the moose and all our friends will be waiting for you out here.” With that, Sigurd melts back into the trees, vanishing as abruptly as he’d appeared. Someday he’ll teach me how to do that, Kai hopes as he jumps onto Varsel’s back again and they resume their ride to his father’s manor house.

The sprawling dwelling is an hour’s canter from the grove where Sigurd found them. Kai and Varsel pass through the small town of Lonyr on their way there. Farmers greet Kai warmly, and he answers in kind, inquiring about the health of their crops. More than once he and Sigurd have intervened to help the crops in Lyrnola flourish so that the farmers will not perish from the Earl of Lyrnola’s exorbitant taxes, and though the farmers don’t know the extent or means by which Kai has helped them, they know he has always taken an interest in their craft and general well-being, and they view him as a rare friendly face amongst the aristocracy.

All is quiet at the manor house when Kai and Varsel arrive, despite the glorious sunset outside. Birgitta has never been one to enjoy the outdoors, Kai remembers, but Magnus and Markus would normally be playing outside until after sundown on a day like today, given the option. Unless something is amiss…. But in the stables, the horses all seem to be at ease, and the house butler, Albin, greets him warmly as he enters the manor house through the back door.

“Good to have you home, Master Nicolaas,” he smiles, his voice hoarse from the ravages of time.

Father really ought to let him retire soon, Kai remarks to himself, noting the butler’s hunched back and slow gait. “Thank you, Albin. Have a seat and rest. I’ll be distracting my father and Birgitta for a while this evening. Do you know where I might find them?”

“I believe they are in the drawing room with the large fireplace, off the main hall.”

“Much appreciated. And the boys?”

“With their tutor upstairs, I think.”

“Good. Take care of yourself, Albin.” With that, Kai takes his leave and wastes no time in making his way to the drawing room Albin mentioned. It used to be the family’s dining room, when Kai’s mother was still alive, but since she died and his father married Birgitta, it has become a room for the Particular Use of the Lady of the House, the Countess of Lyrnola. Birgitta is at least as ambitious as her husband and aspires well above her station—qualities Kai finds irksome, to say the least. He and his stepmother tolerate each other, although she is the driving force behind the demands that he find some rich, high-ranking woman to marry ‘for the benefit of the family.’

The drawing room, once cozy and full of love, now boasts gilded furnishings and imported wall hangings. The windows are hidden behind red velvet curtains. To Kai, it is the room of someone prideful, someone bent on showing off their wealth. The Earl and Countess of Lyrnola sit within on plush furniture, enjoying the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace. Their attire is nearly as splendid as anything Kai saw the Royal Family wearing during the Quest for Favor, and Birgitta’s blonde tresses are studded with several jewels, Kai notices with disdain as he enters the room without knocking.

“Nicolaas! Welcome home,” Kai’s father greets him, pulling his dark beard into a sharper point. “What news?”

“Her Highness, Princess Wilhelmina, chose her future husband last night,” Kai answers, frowning at his father’s use of his given name. Birgitta’s doing, he gripes privately, noting his stepmother’s disdainful glance his way. He used to call me Kai, at least when we were out of the public eye.

“Oh really? When will the wedding be?” Birgitta asks, looking up from her embroidery with hawkish interest.

“I don’t know. She chose one of the princes of Syazonia.”

Birgitta clucks her tongue in disappointment.

“I did my best, really I did. I was there for the Ball last night,” Kai adds.

“Not bad,” Kai’s father allows with gruff approval. “I would guess not many of less than royal birth can say the same.”

“There were only five of us, plus seven princes,” Kai affirms.

“Oh, Fritjof,” Birgitta laments, laying the back of her hand across her forehead and leaning back in her chair. “I can’t bear it. To have been so close to greatness—imagine, to have a princess as a daughter-in-law! To think our grandchildren could have ruled Aethyrozia! And then to have it ripped away for some foreigner—”

“I know, my dove,” Fritjof—or Father, as Kai thinks of him—comforts his wife. “But there will be another Quest for Favor in the not too distant future. Our king has another daughter who will soon come of age. And Nicolaas has done so well in this first one, we can certainly hope for a more…favorable result in the second.”

“Perhaps. Especially, Nicolaas, if you would spend less time in the woods and more time at Court.” His stepmother seems to have forgotten her grief at his failure to seduce a princess and glares at him meaningfully. “Even if competing in a second Quest for Favor proves fruitless, you would be making connections and meeting other eligible ladies.”

“I actually wanted to ask if I could go to Court in your stead, Father, at least for a season,” Kai agrees, looking to his father for approval.

“Beg pardon?” Fritjof demands.

“Chuezoh be praised!” Birgitta exclaims.

“I know it sounds…rather unlike me. But I’ve made some acquaintances during the Quest for Favor, and if I can spend more time with them, it might be beneficial…for all of us.” This isn’t entirely true, at least the way his family will interpret it; Karl is the son of a Viscount, and Ingemar is a Baron’s son. The only person he’s met and liked during the Quest for Favor who outranks him is Fifi, and he can’t guarantee he’ll get to spend time with her again. But what Father and Birgitta don’t know won’t hurt them…. he hopes.

“Finally! I don’t know what happened to you during your time away, but at last, you’ve come to your senses!” Birgitta rejoices. “You’ll let him go, won’t you, dearest?”

“Perhaps,” Fritjof stars, eyeing Kai with suspicion. “If you can tell me how you let a princess slip through your grasp in the last act. How could you get so close and then fail?”

“Many of the other competitors were speculating that King Ansgar would exert undue influence over his daughter’s choice,” Kai shrugs. “And, at least during the Talent Round and the Ball, he seemed to almost smile when the Princes of Syazonia were displaying their skills or dancing with Princess Wilhelmina, rather than wearing his usual dour expression.”

Kai hopes this will be enough to satisfy his father. He doesn’t want to betray Fifi’s confidence, and he’s skating dangerously close to doing so as things are.

“Why bother with a competition if he intends to choose for them?” Fritjof grumbles.

“I’ve wondered the same thing. I’d like to believe Princess Wilhelmina made her own choice, but…who’s to say? To be one of twelve finalists, when there were about forty of us to start with—”

“Yes, impressive, I know. Just not enough. These acquaintances you say you’ve made. Are any of them marriageable young ladies?”

“I know at least some of them have sisters who are.”

“Thank Chuezoh, that’s our shot!” Birgitta exclaims. “Having a friendship with a lady’s brother will surely influence her in Nicolaas’s favor. You have to send him to Court, Fritjof. It’s the only way. Magnus and Markus are still too young, and Nicolaas must fly so that they may soar.”

Kai tenses and bites his tongue; it’s all he can do not to roll his eyes. Of course her interest in me is only to brighten her own sons’ futures, he thinks. The twin sons Birgitta gave his father are adorable and bright, and he has nothing against them, but thanks to their mother they think Kai is very strange and call him Skogsbror—forest brother. He wouldn’t mind the name if it wasn’t so clearly meant as an insult; the forest is more of a home to him than the manor house, and Sigurd is a far more accepting and supportive father to him than the Earl of Lyrnola ever has been.

But that doesn’t matter right now, he reminds himself. Just agree, Father, and never mind why. You’ll be happier with me out of the house anyway. And who knows? Maybe your goals will be accomplished, as well as mine. He’s not looking to get married anytime soon—not even looking for love or a relationship—but he believes that fate and Cybarei work in mysterious ways, and he isn’t the type to rule out possibilities.

“You haven’t spent much time at Court, and I can’t imagine it suits you,” Fritjof argues. “Perhaps we both ought to go, if you’re so bent on being there all of a sudden.”

“Begging your pardon, Father, but I don’t think that would be wise,” Kai answers. Having his father at Court with him, nagging at him constantly, would be a fate worse than death. Perhaps some good will come of telling him the truth. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have it on good authority that King Ansgar has been…less than pleased with your behavior at Court as of late. Perhaps our family’s fortunes and favor with the Crown will improve if you remain here and attend to the needs of Lyrnola for a while.”

“Insolent boy! Who told you such a bald-faced lie?! This is slander, I tell you! Who is this ‘good authority’?! I’ll make them wish they’d held their tongue!”

“Alas, Father…. Both princesses remarked, when I danced with them at the Ball, that their father had been rather opposed to my staying in the competition up to that point, on account of his interactions with you.”

“You danced with both princesses? Not just Princess Wilhelmina?” Birgitta inquires, interest piqued once again.

“Aye. Princess Josefina was present and danced with all of her sister’s suitors at the Ball. It seems the two of them are quite close and value each other’s opinions in all things.”

“But why would either of them tell you anything of the King’s thoughts?” Fritjof wonders.

“I could not say, Father. All I know is that both seemed to like me, and I was doing my best to make a favorable impression.” It’s the right thing to say, even if the latter part isn’t entirely true.

Fritjof sighs and sinks into a chair, expression unreadable, shoulders slumped.

“Fritjof, my heart. If he danced with both princesses, and both seemed to like him, surely more time at Court would raise him in the younger one’s esteem, so that when the time comes for Princess Josefina’s Quest for Favor….” Birgitta wheedles. She leans over and places a hand on her husband’s arm. Her eyes blaze bright with daydreams of wealth and power.

“You know I can deny you nothing, light of my life,” Fritjof relents after a long silence. “And you raise a good point. Nicolaas, you will remain here at least a week before you return. You wouldn’t want to seem too eager, and we ought to allow plenty of time for the Syazonians to finalize their arrangements and take their leave. But after a week, you have my blessing to return to Court.”

“Thank you, Father,” Kai says, biting back a triumphant smile. “I will not disappoint you again.”

A/N: If you’re curious about Sigurd, check out a short story featuring him here: : https://www.FindNovel.net/stories/other/770071/chapters/9

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