In Which Roderick Is Told What Everyone Knows

January 17, 1168

Despite his disappointment, Roderick couldn't say he was surprised; he'd scarcely seen Severin since the whole ordeal with Deian. The man was effectual enough in times of desperation, as soon as he'd cooled off from that last incident--as soon as he'd felt he was no longer needed--he'd collapsed back into his grief, shriveled into the same morose figure he'd been since Alina's death. From what Roderick could gather, he spent most of his days sleeping--perhaps only trying to sleep.

Wherever Severin was and whatever he was doing, however, Roderick was not impressed. "You're looking quite pretty today, your lordship."

Raia set down the stylus and looked up at him, her brown eyes as tired and exasperated as her father's ever were. "His lordship is indisposed. Can I do something for you, your majesty?"

Roderick sniffed; he had not ridden all this way to deal with a twelve-year-old girl. "Indeed. You could get him for me--or at least the steward or your brother."

"Falidor has the day off, and my brother is out," Raia told him as she rose from the chair and emerged from behind the desk, "as are my other two brothers and my father's page, before you ask for them. Unless you think whatever you personally came for is better discussed with a groom or a kitchen boy than with the daughter of a lord, you're just going to have to get past the fact that I'm a girl."

He felt the corners of his mouth pull his lips into a tight scowl. It was a man's business, but even before that, it was a noble's; he could not discuss this with some peasant. "If you must know, my priest has informed me that your shire's tithe barns were found empty this season. They were empty at harvest-time as well, but that was a time of turmoil and he was grieving, so I decided to let it slide; this time, however, I will not be so lenient. Where are the tithes?"

The girl's heavy eyelids drooped, leaving only a thin, piercing sliver of brown between her thick lashes. "My father no longer believes in the importance of tithing. You may deal with that as you see fit, but he will not force his subjects to pay their tithes, nor will he pay any of his own."

Ridiculous. Seething, Roderick tapped his foot against the hardwood. "But tithing is the will of God!"

"So was the death of my mother." She crossed her arms and looked him in the eye, unblinking, unfaltering. "If our family can live without her, then I see no reason why God can't do without Veldorashire's tithes."

Roderick's brow twitched. "And I trust that your father agrees with you?"

"On the contrary, I agree with my father; he did say it first."

This was even less of a shock than stepping into the study to find Raia in Severin's stead; disgusted, Roderick gave a false-dismissive wave of his hand. "Well, I suppose there isn't much I can expect of Severin these days, is there? Why should good Christian decency be an exception?"

"Christian decency?" Raia snapped in repetition. "Robbing the poor peasants of their income just to satisfy a church that already has more money than anyone knows what to do with? Is that what you call 'Christian decency'? Taking from the needy?"

"You can hardly call your father 'needy'; this whole notion of his is blasphemous. Of course, I must have been blind not to see this coming. The crazed liberalism, the general depravity, the necrophilia--"

Enraged, Raia jabbed him in the shoulder with her finger, her other hand curled into a tight fist. "My father is not a necrophile! There's a big difference between loving a dead woman and fucking her corpse!"

"Who taught you such filthy language?" demanded Roderick; he hadn't expected a young maiden to know the word 'fucking', much less 'necrophilia'. "I've half a mind to ban you from playing with my girls!"

Raia appeared unthreatened, the anger in her eyes as resolute as before. "I will not stand to hear false accusations against my father!"

"False or not, your father has abandoned his duty," he stressed; at the very least, she would have to understand this. He would make her understand this. "I'm tired of having to pick up his slack, and I think I speak for Lornian and Octavius as well!"

"Well, I'm sure both of them would agree that he's been picking up yours for a hell of a lot longer!"

Roderick fell rigid with wrath. She hadn't really said that--had she? "How dare you!"

"How dare I what? Say what everyone else already knows?" She allowed herself a second to regain some ounce of calmness, though the fire in her did not cool. "With all due respect, your majesty, we've discussed what you've come to discuss; I see no reason why you should still be here."

How was it that she got the nerve to address a king so rudely? Regardless, this had gone on long enough. "I certainly see no reason why I should want to be!"

"Good!"

Roderick turned on his heel and stormed toward the door, Raia's scowl burning into the back of his head; she was still glaring at him, he was sure of it. "Tell your father that I want those tithes--and the next time I call, I had better be speaking to him personally, or believe me, there will be hell to pay!"

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