Golden Fool

It seemed a very good time to hold my silence.



The Queen’s hand did not move from mine as she spoke simply. “Fitz, Nettle should be trained in the Skill. You know that, in your heart. Not only to protect her from the dangers of that magic in untrained hands—yes, I have read something of those scrolls, when deciding how to deal with Dutiful’s potential—but also because of who she is. The potential Farseer heir.”



Her words knocked the wind out of me. I had expected to debate the wisdom of teaching Nettle to Skill, not to come back to that older, graver threat to her. I could not find words to express my dismay, but it was just as well. My queen was not finished speaking.



“We cannot change who we are. Ever, I am Verity’s queen. You are Chivalry’s son, illegitimate but a Farseer nonetheless. Yet you are also dead to our people, and Chade is both elderly and unacknowledged as a Farseer. August, as we both know, never fully recovered his wits after Verity reached through him to me. My king, I am sure, never intended to do the damage he did to his cousin, and yet, again, there it is. We cannot change who we are, and August, though his name makes him a Farseer, is a wandering old man before his time. He cannot seriously be considered a likely heir to the throne in the event that Verity’s line should fail.”



Her careful construction of logic drew me in. I found myself forced to nod in agreement with her, even as I saw where the chain of her thoughts inexorably led.



“Yet there must be, there must always be, one who stands in reserve, ready to assume the throne should all else fail.” She looked past me. “Your daughter, invisible as she is to her people, is nonetheless next in line. We cannot change who Nettle is. No amount of wishing on anyone’s part can make her any less a Farseer. Should the need arise, FitzChivalry Farseer, your daughter must serve. So we arranged it, all those years ago. I know you opposed it then, when we drew up those documents in Jhaampe. I know you oppose it still. But she is a Farseer acknowledged, by you her father, by me as Queen, and a minstrel to whom you had told the truth witnessed all this. The written document still exists, Fitz, as it must. Even should you and I and Chade and Starling Birdsong die all at once, still in the treasury will be found that document, with a codicil that spells out where she can be found. This must be, Fitz. We cannot change her bloodlines; we cannot undo her birth. Would you ever truly desire to? I think not. To even wish such a thing is an affront to the gods.”



And then it happened again. I suddenly saw with another’s eyes. It gutted my anger, this sudden insight into my queen’s reasoning. Kettricken saw as unchangeable that Nettle had a place in the line of heirs to the throne. To her, it was not a matter of what I wished or what she wished. It simply was, and we could not tamper with that. Nettle was not a bargaining point for her. She could not agree to release her from a duty she had been born to: that was how Kettricken saw it.



I took a deep breath, but she lifted a finger, asking me to let her finish speaking her thoughts. “I know that you dread the thought of Nettle becoming Sacrifice. I too pray it will never come to pass. Think what it would mean for me: that my only son was dead, or somehow unfit to serve. As a mother, I put such a possibility furthest from my mind, even as you beseech fate that Nettle never be burdened with a crown. Yet even as we both hope such a thing never comes to pass, we must prepare that if it should happen, she would be ready to serve her people well. She should be trained, not only in the Skill, but educated in languages, in the history of her land and people, and in the courtesy and traditions that go with the throne. It is negligent of us both that she has gone uninstructed in such things, and unforgivably negligent of us that she remains unenlightened of her own bloodlines. If a time ever arrives when she must serve, do you think she will thank either of us for letting her remain ignorant?”



And that was yet another blow to my conviction. The world twisted around me, and suddenly I questioned every decision I had made for Nettle. I felt sickened as the truth came to me. I spoke it aloud. “She would probably hate me for letting her remain ignorant. Yet, I do not see how I can change that at this late time, without doing even more damage.” I sagged back in my chair. “Kettricken, neglectful as it must seem to you, I still implore you. Let her continue as she is. If you will say yes to that, then I promise you that I will bend all my efforts, with a willing heart, to make certain that she must never serve as Sacrifice.” I swallowed, and then bound myself anew. Yet again, I stood before a Farseer monarch and ceded my life. This time, I did it as a man. “Willingly will I try to craft a coterie for Dutiful. I will serve as Skillmaster.”