The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(29)

It was midafternoon, but the light from the windows was still bright. Maia went to the glass and stared outside. She could see all the way to the village green, where the maypole stood proudly erect. A small crowd had gathered around it already. Another pang went through Maia’s stomach, and she clutched it with one hand.

“Your bowels still ail you?” the chancellor asked at her shoulder.

She nodded, seeing his reflection in the glass, his wild gray hair askew.

“I personally think it is because they make you wear those drab gray gowns,” he said with a hint of teasing. “It is the color of storm clouds. Not light puffy ones, but the dark thunderheads. They say it might rain this evening. The weather can be unpredictable in this Hundred.”

“Why did Father choose Billerbeck for the Whitsunday celebration?” She pressed her fingers against the glass, feeling the subtle ripples on its surface.

“You are a wise girl,” he replied meekly. “Why do you think?”

“I do not know him anymore,” she replied flatly, bitterly.

“You know him better than you are willing to admit. He is no longer the man you have fond memories of, child, though part of his old self still exists. I see it now and then. Let me teach you to tease out the answers you desire. That is the way of queens.” He folded his arms. “What does your father desire the most?”

“A divorce from my mother.”

“He married her according to the maston customs, though.”

“Yes, he did, by irrevocare sigil,” Maia said, staring at the billowing ribbons hanging off the maypole. Someone had tied or tacked the ends to the wood, yet still the ribbons twitched as if they longed to fly free.

“According to the maston rites, the irrevocare sigil is permanent. However, it is only in force if both husband and wife honor the oath. The maston tomes list certain special situations that would give rise for the dissolution of the irrevocare sigil.”

“If one of the spouses is unfaithful.” Her heart was black with dark thoughts. As you were, Father.

“Yes. Unfaithfulness is grounds for dissolution. Your father knew this and has given your mother the opportunity to break the marriage. But she has not. She refuses.”

“So, instead, he divorced her according to the customs of the Dochte Mandar,” Maia said. “There are multiple grounds for divorce in your creed.”

“There are. It is a much more . . . flexible . . . state in our culture. The trouble is that the king was not married according to the customs of the Dochte Mandar. His marriage to Lady Deorwynn is lawful in the eyes of some and unlawful in the eyes of others. It is a tangled web, to be sure. Much like that maypole yonder.”

“A web he has inflicted on himself,” Maia said with a throb in her voice. She swallowed.

“Why, then, are we at Billerbeck Abbey?”

Maia thought long and hard. “Lady Deorwynn says it is to show people that I am still alive.”

“She is a fool. If your father were to harm you, the kingdom would revolt. Many see you as his only legitimate heir.”

“My mother will not start a rebellion,” Maia said. “Neither will I. Nothing but destruction and war can follow when a kingdom fights itself. Our history is full of it. War always draws out the Myriad Ones. Is that not what the tomes say?”

“Yes. A tragic tale, to be sure. I have read the tomes. Your father sent me here to discuss the divorce with the Aldermaston of Billerbeck. To seek his input and his wisdom. To learn if there is anything in the tomes, in any tome, to justify a man putting away his wife, except for adultery.”

Maia turned and looked at him in surprise.

“What did you find?” she asked, her eyes gleaming.

“There was one reference,” the chancellor said, staring out the window. “But it does not help your father’s case. I knew it would not, but alas, we must obey our king’s wishes.”

Maia turned to look at him, feeling alarmed and concerned. “I thought the bond could only legitimately be broken for one reason. I have read the tomes, as you know. You taught me to read them. There is another?”

He nodded, saying nothing.

“Please, Chancellor. Tell me.”

He shrugged. “It does not pertain to this case, as I said.”

“But what is it? What is the reference?”

He looked down at her, smiling compassionately. “I do not mean to cause worry, Lady Maia. You would have no cause to know about it because it is not written in the maston tomes . . . only in those kept by the Aldermastons. The provision is mentioned in the tomes of the Dochte Mandar, however, so I knew of it. It is part of the maston lore that is limited to those who have passed the maston test. Which, sadly, may never happen in your case because your father intends for you never to study at an abbey or to marry. If you had any children, you see, they would be rivals to his heirs by Lady Deorwynn. He will not allow it. I am hesitant to say more on this subject because you will likely not be given the chance to learn it through the natural course.”

Maia swallowed. “Please, Chancellor. I wish to prepare myself. I do intend to take the maston test someday and will try to persuade Father. I started a fire Leering just now. All by myself, with hardly a thought.”

“You did?” he said, impressed. His smile was beaming. “I can only do that with my kystrel!”