The Prince followed her, of course. She stumbled down the steps and stood with her hand on one of the hitching posts. She took several deep breaths, willing the nausea to leave her.
"It isn't true, you know," she said, without turning around, "that's not at all what Queen Tasha was like."
"It's just a story," he said, his voice low and deep.
"No," she disagreed. "No, it isn't. It's a reason. It's a justification. It's a... sometimes, I wonder just how many women from Vezda are enslaved here. There are a lot, I know that."
"Just over 1500 in the capitol alone, at last count. Most of them brothel girls, some of them house slaves," he answered.
Talia turned to face him. He wore no expression. The Prince was merely stating a fact.
"When I ruled Vezda, I didn't think of those girls. I couldn't. I told myself that I must focus on the people I can help. Now, I'm a Vezdan woman enslaved in Unaria. The irony is..." she smiled bitterly and shook her head.
He gave no response, merely watched her. He's likely worried I'll burst into tears again, Talia thought.
"Did you get us rooms here?" she asked, changing the subject.
"No. Their rooms are filled. We'll have to travel on to the next town," he replied.
"Then let us leave. I think I'll be sick if I have to listen to anymore stories from that charlatan!"
Prince Mikhail descended the stairs slowly and signaled the driver who waited nearby. Talia glanced up at him and frowned.
"Unaria stopped taking slaves from Vezda years ago, while Ora was Queen. That was... your decision as general. For a long time, I thought that you did so to make yourself appear sympathetic to Vezda. It was the reason Ora agreed to the cease-fire back then. It was how you were able to convince her to travel to Unaria to negotiate a treaty. And it led to her death."
Prince Mikhail frowned slightly but did not look at her.
"I have often assumed the worst about you, but... after the cease-fire ended, when Ora was taken by the Empire, you did not return to taking our women as slaves."
"You could assume the worst about me, and it would likely still be too kind of an opinion," he frowned. "The slaves cost money and time to feed and transport, and their presence often distracted the men from their duties."
"I see," Talia mumbled and accepted his hand to enter the carriage.
He stepped up behind her and closed the door.
"Should I light the lamp?" he asked softly.
"No... there's a lot of moonlight tonight. It's.." Talia's voice trailed off as he leaned forward and placed the lap blanket across her knees.
"Do you know why Queen Tasha fell in love with Emperor Mali?" she smiled.
"No," he muttered.
"In the Great Library at Madrost, we still have the letters she sent to her sister while she was a prisoner in Unaria. Queen Tasha loved the smell of tartala flowers. She grew them in her garden when she was young and always wore a perfume that was made from them. The flowers only grow along the southeastern coast near the capitol in Vezda, and they are very delicate. They need a lot of sun and moisture and just the right soil.
"When she was taken to Unaria, she missed the tartala flowers a great deal, but she never spoke of it. The Emperor would visit her every morning and ask if there was anything that she needed. She would always say no because she was determined not to accept any favors from him or soften toward him in any way.
'Still, when she painted, which she did often because it was a hobby she enjoyed, in almost every scene, she would find a way to include tartala flowers or their vines.
"One day, the Emperor left the palace, and he did not return for many weeks. She had grown accustomed to his daily visits by then, and she often found herself waiting by the window to watch for his return.
"And then one morning, he did return-- not on his horse, but in a borrowed wagon. He was incredibly ill. His hands and face were swollen dreadfully, and he could barely breathe. He was tended to by physicians at every hour of the day and night, and still, he almost died.
"During that time, a servant delivered to her a pot full of flowering tartala vines. The Emperor had seen her paintings and realized how much she loved and missed those flowers. He rode to Vezda himself and brought a pot of the flowers back to Unaria by riding with them under his cloak. However, it turns out that Emperor Mali was deathly allergic to tartala blossoms!" Talia chuckled.
Prince Mikhail stared at her without smiling and then frowned again.
"He won the Queen's heart with a gift of flowers?" he asked with a skeptical tone.
"No!" she said. "It was the effort and time he put into understanding her, and how much he must have loved her to... to do something like that. Don't you think?"
The Prince pressed his lips together and turned his eyes to the moonlit forest that raced past the window.
"What?" she asked him. "You believe the story that charlatan at the Inn told, but not the words from the woman's own letters?"
"It's snowing again," he muttered
Talia leaned back against the seat and crossed her arms in an annoyed manner.
"She wouldn't have married him without love," Talia grumbled, "and she wouldn't have loved him if he didn't respect her and treat her well."
"And it would have been better for all if the two had never met in the first place," he growled.
Silence descended upon the carriage. She could not deny his words. The true ending of that romance was one of the greatest tragedies ever told, and the repercussions of it were still felt in both countries.
She glanced out the window to see that it was indeed snowing again and shivered almost reflexively. When she looked again at Prince Mikhail, she found that he was again watching her, and his expression seemed strangely concerned.
"I know... that the story told in pubs is not... true," he frowned at her, "but the story you've been told isn't true either."
"How would you know the story I've been--"
"Queen Ora," he said simply.
Talia felt as if she'd been struck. The shock of those simple words almost stole the breath from her lungs! Her sister had told this man, the enemy who had tricked her and sent her to her doom, a truth that House Eosin had guarded even from their own people? Not likely. Perhaps, like herself, her sister had only shared parts of it.
"They had two daughters. How did their daughters die?" she asked, testing him.
He scowled at this, which made her think that he might know, but then shook his head.
"There are two sides... two sides to every story in history," he said at last.
"He sacrificed his own children to a demon to gain power. He held the knife himself and cut their throats. There are no two sides to something like that," she said in a low voice.
"Emperor Mali's daughters were named for the southern and northern stars, Sevia and Yooki. When they were born, he commissioned a team of sculptors to carve the gates of Torobirk, one door a representation of the Northern star, the other, the southern star. Beneath the paneling there now, those carvings still exist, much like your letters. Two sides, Princess," he said, his voice deep and low.
He had returned to watching the snow falling in the forest as he spoke, as though the conversation disinterested him. Talia shivered again and pulled the blanket higher on her lap. It was much colder traveling at night.
"How far is it to the next town?" she asked.
"Hours yet," he replied.
Talia frowned and tucked the blanket in around her legs.
"If you're cold..." He began and then stopped, "I mean to say... I don't have any intention of.... I won't touch you at all if you want to lean against me to stay warm," he scowled as he spoke.
Talia felt the urge to laugh. He must have been watching her shiver for some time now, and trying to decide if he should risk her anger by offering. He looked so angry when he finally spoke that it almost felt like a threat, but she was slowly learning to read that mostly expressionless face of his.
"Well... I suppose if you promise to behave yourself," she agreed primly.
He frowned at the window but lifted his arm slightly. Talia shifted herself to the opposite seat, took hold of his raised arm, and placed it firmly at his side. She would sit against him, but not beneath his arm! She pressed herself against his side and felt the warmth even through his cloak.
They traveled on in silence until Talia's eyes were so heavy, she could no longer keep them open.