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could it be?"
I bit back the passion I longed to release, knowing now was not the time. "At
least you were not lost as well."
Aileen grimaced. "Aye, so Brennan said . . . but I
can't be helping it, Keely. I'm thinking of my poor sickly Aidan. I'm thinking
of Homana. I'm thinking of a barren woman who one day will be queen."
I tried to make my tone light. "It is nothing new to
Homana; you are hardly the first. Our House is built on fragile foundations.
Shaine himself could get no heirs, even on a second cheysula.
Carillon sired only a
daughter " Abruptly, I thought of Caro, the deaf-
mute bastard who lived in Solinde, " at least, on
Electra." I shrugged. "Donal provided two sons, but only one was legitimate."
I smiled crookedly. "Until my jehan and his brood, the Lion was poor in sons."
"And now, more than ever, the Lion is needing them." Aileen's expression was
pensive. "I'm not mean-
ing to sound sorry for myself, nor to blame the gods for taking the bairns
away " she sighed, " but I've been here long enough to know how important the
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prophecy is to the Cheysuli. Corin told me much of it in Erinn " Aileen broke
that off almost at once, reflexively, flicking a betraying glance at me. Then
continued in a newer, firmer tone. "Brennan, too, has told me, and the Mujhar
himself, how important it is for this House to hold the Lion. They'd neither
of them claim me a failure, but this must be of concern. One son for the
Prince of Homana? And he a sickly boy?" Aileen shook her head. "I know how
Niall must fret, though he will say naught of it.
And I know how Brennan feels, though he tries to hide it away." She grimaced.
"He is such a stalwart defender of the prophecy, of the Cheysuli, of the
tahlmorra so binding on all of you."
"What about you?"
I asked. "How does Aileen feel?"
Her voice was very quiet. "I grieve for the bairns;
both boys, they said. And I grieve for my barren-
ness, knowing no more will be born. But I'm think-
ing I also grieve for you."
"Me!" I stared. "Why?"
Aileen's eyes locked on my own. "Because now it falls to you. Now more than
ever, they'll be needing you wed to Sean. And soon, I'd wager. They'll be
wanting children of you in haste, in case Aidan should die. To protect the
bloodlines, Keely ... to fulfill the prophecy."
I stared blankly at Aileen.
Her tone was infinitely gentle. " Tis sorry I am,"
she said. "I know how you feel, Keely. But I'll be promising you again, as I
have so many times: Sean is a man worth having."
And if he is dead?
I wondered.
Of what worth is he then?
Or if he lived, and I refused to marry him for fear of losing the lir and all
the magic of the Cheysuli.
Was any man worth that?
I rose. "Rest you well, Aileen. And know that your lost bairns are in the
halls of the cileann."
For the merest moment she smiled, and then the tears spilled over. I went out
the door and closed it, leaving her to her grief.
I ate supper in my chambers, being disinclined to talk with others of my
family, and wasted most of the early evening lost in thought, pacing the floor
like a caged beast. I weighed Teir's words against those I
had been taught by the shar tahls as a child, knowing
Teir had been taught them as well. It was a wheel turning and turning, raised
for repair and going nowhere; spinning, spinning, spinning, made of use-
less motion, wasted effort, profitless thought.
Again and again I came back to the beginning. If I
refused Sean, as Teir desired as I desired only one child would carry the
Erinnish bloodline so nec-
essary to the prophecy. The last bloodline required;
we had all of the others, save Ihlini. And even Ihlini, at that, if you
counted Brennan's bastard on
Rhiannon, or counted Rhiannon herself.
Aidan. The sole offspring of the coupling between a
Homanan-Atvian-Solindish-Cheysuli prince, and an
Erinnish-Atvian princess. The necessary link. And possibly enough, if he
survived to wed and sire chil-
dren of his own.
But if he did not, it left the Lion without the proper blood. It left the link
broken, the prophecy
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incomplete . . . unless I married Sean and provided the children Aileen and my
rujho could not.
The wheel turned once more, and came around again to me.
I stopped dead in the center of my chamber. And then went swiftly out of it to
visit my brother's son.
The nursery was empty save for Aidan. Ordinarily he was attended night and
day, but his woman had, for the moment, slipped out. The room was made of
shadows, heavy and deep, born of a single candle.
Light crept into the massive cradle and glinted off silver thread, caressed
the creamy richness of aged ivory, glistened faintly from smooth-skinned oak.
The cradle was very of d. It had housed infants born to the House of Homana
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