And now, they call me by her name and ask me to sit among them at council. Well, they will soon. I've asked for the three weeks between today and the Midsummer festival as a time to contemplate, train, and prepare myself for the long years ahead.
I shouldn't have done that. I should have simply done what was expected of me. Caden will think it's all on his account. Still, standing in the council hall's private meeting chapter and asserting some measure of the authority I will soon have was thrilling. I can understand now why the old crone enjoyed herself so much. You should have seen the looks in their eyes--who is this little twit? they seemed to ask. Or, and more disturbing, perhaps they were wondering what force they had brought into their midst.
I wonder how many of them believed I would be a docile tool for the governing of Kentigern. I wonder if I'll be able to prove them wrong.
But not now. I have much to do over these next three weeks, not the least of which is spend hours at study with my mother's advisor. I dread this, more than anything else, but not because I run from books and sums or from learning the policies of my government. I run from it because I believe Wolvek is a wicked man, filled with sour desires that cloud not only his judgment, but my mother's.
He used to ignore me. Years ago, when I was still young enough not to attract anyone's attention (unless I frightened their sheep or pilfered their peaches), he never paid me any mind. These days, I feel his eyes on me as I pass and his shadow in the corners of my room. Ever since the Aldunthai named me as her successor, Wolvek has always been close at hand, always with a word of advice or an admonishment I'd rather not hear. And my mother never corrects him. I used to think his eyes followed only her, but now I can't be sure.
And this is the man that the council would have me study with in an effort to prepare me for the task ahead. If only I could communicate the trepidation and the mistrust I feel inside. If only they'd believe me.
My only refuge is Sarah. The council mistrusts her almost as much as they need her, and she has been kind enough to tutor me in the healing arts these past several years. I hope, as I take my office as Aldunthai and mother to our people, that I may impart a sense of acceptance and trust to my fellow council members. Sarah has a dark past, but she has much to offer the people of Kentigern.
Tomorrow, I will tell Caden that I have earned my reprieve. I hope he will not think too much of it. All I've promised is one night with friends, and then I will be done with the whole business. I will be Aldunthai until the end of my days, and that will be that.
Caden will simply have to learn to live with it. Perhaps even learn to love his wife as she deserves to be loved. No woman should have to suffer what she does.
As I write, and the meir oil burns away in the lamp, I wonder if someplace, somehow, someone hears me. Perhaps can read my thoughts as I put them to paper. I've felt a strange presence about these past several weeks, and I'm half inclined to think that I have a Watcher, as Sarah might say, a spirit who follow me and records my steps. My mother would likely tell me that I'm being foolish, but Sarah might believe me.
Perhaps tomorrow, before I go to study, I will mention it to her. But, until then, goodnight Watcher, if you are indeed nearby. I hope my story does not disappoint you.
