Verse XIX

  "Did you finish your studies this day, daughter?"

  "Yes, Mother Dearest..." It was not often these days that Rhiela saw her mother. Once or twice a week, for a fraction of the hour each, was the most contact they usually had. The queen's time was precious, and Her Majesty spent it like a miser, hoarding it to herself and doling out small portions only when necessary. For the most part Queen Anyis kept to her chambers, a set of six shell-work domes nestled in the center of the palace cliff face.

  Mother and daughter were in the largest of these chambers now, a dome formed of thousands of translucent green and blue shells fitted and layered within a lattice of coral. The dome covered a natural ledge on the cliff face, and over the years the queen had moved more and more furniture in, converting it into an alternative to the official throne room that lay a few tail-lengths behind the cliff. Anyis rested upon a rounded stone that had been carved and polished to fit the contours of her body. The queens of Bryndoon were famed for the gold of their hair and scales, and Rhiela could personally attest, and sometimes complain, about the great lengths taken to keep them presentable. A little thing like arranging complementary colors in a rock was trivial and worth the effort, as the grey of the stone made the brilliance of the royal coloration all the more striking.

  "Ministra Marhyd speaks well of your progress in the natural and social philosophies," the queen continued. Her Majesty idly toyed with a sweet pod as she spoke. "The Mitera, less so."

  There were a dozen leondra living at the temple on the other side of the harbor who bore that title, but only one of whom Mother Dearest ever spoke in that way. And from her lips, so too the court and city; many would be hard-pressed to name another mitera, or claim to have seen one.

  "I am sorry if I have upset Mitera Yesca again." Rhiela was as sincere as she could be on that point. She never tried to make the mitera angry; it just happened.

  "Be sorry all you wish, daughter, but I am serious. You come of age in two days' time, will be named as First Daughter of the Seas. The Temple and the Palace have been preparing for weeks now, and the Mitera is concerned that you will not be able to say your lines. A mistake during the ceremony would be unconscionable.

  Rhiela kept her eyes lowered, focusing on the hapless sweet pod which, having finally been reunited with its sisters, had rebounded and rolled over the lip of the bowl. It was halfway to the floor now.

  "Well?"

  "To the firmament above and the depths below, I sing my love of Thee, Cythera. Mother of All, I am Thy daughter. My mind and soul are born of Thee. The waters of my life are Thine, and Thy currents guide my way. Thy children are my sisters all, and in Thy place am I charged with their well-being..." She looked her mother in the eye. "Shall I continue?"

  "No, that is enough, daughter. It is good to see that the Mitera has nothing to worry about."

  What was really going on here? Rhiela kept that question in mind. Most days, it took an effort to rouse Mother Dearest to action. It was no secret among the high families that the matters of the court were handled by the royal council of Ministra Marhyd, the Mitera, and the queen's life sister, Aysmin. It had been like that for as long as Rhiela could remember; she had only hearsay that her mother had once been considered a great ruler. But that was before... and the whispers would still to nothingness. Rhiela had never heard what mysterious past was hinted at in those quiet words. Whatever the truth was, whatever had occurred, it had sent her mother into seclusion, had contributed to the end of the queen's relationship with Rhiela's life-mother, and it continued to haunt the daily life of the palace, even now.

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  Rhiela gave her mother a beat to continue, then a three-beat, a five, a full verse of stilling silence that would never be filled if she did not say something of her own. "I am so looking forward to the festivities," she lied cheerfully. "Aren't you, mother?"

  Queen Anyis responded with a start, flukes shivering straight as if roused from a light sleep. Her Majesty had been lost in thought again. Her daughter sighed, then looked to the object of the queen's attention: a simple statue made of shells cemented together in some manner. It was a primitive little thing, hardly recognizable as the figure of a mer, and terribly out of place amongst the other items in the chamber -- prizes from across all the seas; pearls of many colors; shells and scales of many more. On the walls hung the finest carvings from the artisans of the Mere Kazahn. And then there was this lopsided thing that looked like the work or a child.

  And not her own childhood. Rhiela was certain of that. She would have remembered making something like this. She had asked about it before, but never received a straight answer. Like so many other things in the palace, those who knew never talked.

  "Yes, yes," her mother said. "The Mitera should be here soon, daughter. Return to your chambers for some rest. The next few days will be busy for everyone."

  Rhiela pushed herself up into the water and softly stroked over to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. Queen Anyis' face showed the briefest sign of a smile as her daughter darted out of the chamber, only to lose it once more as her eyes returned to the statue. The barest sigh escaped the royal lips as a thousand little memories schooled in her mind like so many fishes. The billowing froth of recollection formed into the shape of a face.

  "Your Majesty?"

  Anyis twitched, then shook her head. The memories retreated to the far waters of her mind, scattered for the moment.

  Mitera Yesca waited for the queen to gather herself. "I can return later," she said quietly.

  "No, no..." Anyis sighed. "It is just... the time of the year. It is always worse in this season. Too close to..." She waved a hand towards the little statue. The Mitera nodded in understanding.

  "We all miss her, Anyis," she said, slipping into a soft, informal voice that would have surprised most of the court.

  "I so wish we could do all this confirmation nonsense later, Yesca," the queen confided. She lay limply against her stone. "To tell true, I am not sure if I have the strength for it."

  "The ceremony has its own timing and schedule, regretfully," said the Mitera. "Aysmin and I would spare you the stress of it if we could." Of all the members of the court, only the Duchess and Yesca understood the queen's feelings. Her loss was their loss as well.

  "Sometimes I cannot believe it has really been nineteen years without... without her." Anyis' voice stumbled to avoide a name. Yesca was by her side, the leondra's arms reaching around to console her.

  As the queen sobbed into her shoulder, the Mitera thought again about the upcoming ceremony and the young princess. Rhiela was not everything she might wish for in a royal heir, but the princess was strong-willed and decisive. After the confirmation of her status as First Daughter, she would be obliged to assume more of her mother's duties as well.

  Yesca may have understood the queen's feelings, even share them, but she was still a realist. There were real problems afloat on the currents, and the seas needed a queen to lead them. Anyis was useless for that role, but her daughter... her daughter would have to do, for the sake of all below the firmament.