Daughter of the Lion - Part Three - Chapters Thirteen and Fourteen

[kalinara]

So last time Roberson annoyed me with an overused trope, then gave me a succession of genuinely excellent scenes. Let's see how this chapter goes.

We're actually on the penultimate chapter, by the way. Almost done with this book!



So this chapter starts us off with Keely and Sean. I think they're starting to vibe:

The Prince of Erinn, when he saw me, did little more than raise eyebrows. And then smiled, bright-eyed, and said he had never seen even a newborn foal as wobbly as the Princess Royal of Homana.

It was, I thought, most unflattering, but at least better than the solicitude the others plagued me with. I hung onto the wall, smiled back sweetly, called him something less than the legitimate son of a woman who sold her favors to any man with coin. Or without, depending on how she felt.

Sean, by the way, helps her to a chair and offers wine.

Keely's still feeling pretty weak, what with the recent miscarriage. She's apparently been in bed for about six days. And she's apparently had some time to stew.

I took the cup from my mouth. "Do you know why I am here?"

"Not to share my bed; you're a bit weak for that." He grinned, sat down in a chair that creaked beneath his weight. "D'ye make a practice of going alone into a man's bedchamber?"

"This is your antechamber, not bedchamber ... and why should it matter? We are betrothed, and I have been dishonored. What more harm can befall my name?"

Fair point. Sean notes that bitterness doesn't become her. I mean, much as Keely annoys me, she's got a pretty decent amount of reasons to be bitter at this point. She's come to ask him to fetch Rory. This, of course, leads to an emotional reaction and a really interesting comparison:

A broad, hard back. Stiff the length of the spine. And then he swung to face me. "D'ye know what you're asking?"

"You to fetch Rory."

"Here, lass. Here. In the household of your father. A bastard-born exile, who nearly killed his lord."

"His brother," I said calmly. "So did I, my lord."

An interesting thought. Anyway, Keely hasn't made her choice yet, but Sean was the one who said she should see Rory. Sean admits she should, but also admits that he'd hate to lose her.

Also, he intends to take Rory back to Erinn with him, since Sean's head isn't actually broken there's no reason for him to stay behind in Homana. That does throw Keely through a loop since she'd been thinking of it in terms of Rory in Homana and Sean in Erinn.

...well, actually she hasn't. That's not really come up. That's the problem with a first person narrative, actually. In a third person narrative, it's easy to accept that we aren't privy to every thought that comes into a protagonist's head. That's much, much harder here.

But, Keely realizes, this means that one way or another, she'll have to leave Homana.

...well, not if you don't choose either of them. But this isn't that kind of book. And don't think I didn't notice how the Gisella-fear revelation conveniently reframes Keely's aversion to marriage and children to being about inheriting her mother's mental illness. So now, she can get married.

Okay, while I like Sean more than Rory, I rather like his entrance here:

When he came, he glittered with mail. I stared at him in surprise. "Are you going to war?"

His scowl was much like Sean's: brow bumping brow, hair hanging low, brown eyes nearly black. "From what my brother's been saying, I'm thinking I may have to."

"Why are you wearing mail?"

Injured pride was manifest. " 'Tis all I've got worthy of you."

Aw.

Per Rory, Sean had said that Keely was mightily impressed by what a man wore and his title.

I smothered my laughter, seeing the bleakness in his eyes. "He lied," I told him gently. "I have been in your camp, Erinnish ... I have spent a few nights with you, albeit not in your bed. You should know very well what it is I judge people by."

It feels jarring to go back to what amounts to a romcom love triangle plot after all the Strahan bullshit. Rory's been a non-entity for a major part of the book now. But I do have to admit that Keely has a much more comfortable demeanor with him than Sean.

They're in Deirdre's solar. She asks if he'd rather sit in a chair or pace the room. He'd rather pace. Yeah, I'd bet. I like Sean more than Rory, but I do kind of get Keely's dilemma.

Which isn't really one, since Sean and Rory have the same blood.

So how is he:

I made myself more comfortable in one of the comfortable chairs. Sean had gone, as requested, and fetched his brother to the palace. It had taken three days even with my explicit directions; now, seeing Rory, I thought the delay was to purchase assorted finery. He wore winterweight quilted wool tunic beneath the shirt of mail—Erinnish green, of course, or as near to as could be found in raven-and-red Mujhara—edged with silver-gilt braid. The trews were new as well, though the boots as I remembered: drooping, stained, nearly out in the toes; boots must be made, not bought, if they are to fit at all.

The curly hair was combed, but too long; the beard required trimming so as to prove the face beneath it. But he was clean and smelled of bathing, which was more than was offered before.

And to be fair, Rory takes a good look at her and asks how she is. Sean had said she'd been near to dying, and she's pale, with "blue beneath [her] eyes."

Keely asks if Sean had explained why. And so now we get to see if Rory can handle something with grace?

He turned away again, stood still, then spun back and came to my chair. " 'Twas a child, he said. Strahan's Ihlini bastard."

I listened to the nuances of his tone. There was genuine concern. Anger on my behalf. Frustrated helplessness, that he had done nothing to aid me. But also an odd, almost strangled note of something I could not name.

"I miscarried it," I told him. "Does it make a difference to you? Do you think me soiled, now?"

He opened his mouth, then clamped it closed. Something glittered in his eyes. Tears, I thought in surprise, but not of anger, of shame, of futility. What he gave me was anguish, and an empathy almost palpable. "Lass," he said, "oh, lass—"

Okay, good show. You've improved a lot, Roberson.

Rory has more to say actually.

He stared hard at me, looming like a tree. And then sat down, as I had suggested, but on the pelt at my feet rather than in a chair. He spread both hands over my knees, as if in holding them prisoner he also held me. "I near went mad," he swore. "They came to me, your brothers, saying all manner of things not to my liking. They asked if I'd had the stealing of you—as if I would!—and did I care to feel their wrath? The wrath of a Cheysuli?" Rory nearly spat, but refrained out of respect for Deirdre's solar. "After they'd done with their talking, and I was done with mine, 'twas decided I'd seen none of you; that Strahan had done the taking."

"He had."

"I offered to ride with them. For free, I said, and no stealing along the way. But they refused, saying the search would be done in lir-shape, and I had naught of the magic." His eyes glittered angrily. "I told them no, 'twas true, but I knew a little of it because of you . . . and they laughed, as if my ignorance lessened me ... as if my lack of magic made me less than a man! Unblessed, they called me . . . gods, I wanted to break their heads and teach them manners, to tear down that arrogance . . . how dare they show it to me! I am their equal in everything!"

"You just agreed you cannot shapechange."

It quieted him a moment. Then he showed me teeth through the blaze of his beard. "Aye, well, no . .. but the arrogance of them, lass!"

I mean, fair. That would be pretty infuriating. But well, the arrogance is kind of a familial trait, which Keely acknowledges. Rory disagrees, he thinks she has spirit and pride, but that's different from arrogance.

Eh. But Rory's a romantic interest, so I suppose he'd see it that way.

He is starting to lose me here though:

He crushed them all the harder. "How can you ask it, lass? How can you ask it of me?"

I peeled back his fingers. "Ask you what?—Rory, let go."

"If I could think you soiled?"

I let go of his fingers. "Am I not?"

"I'll break the head of the man who says so, and the woman, lass!"

So fierce; I laughed. "Leave the heads intact."

He took his hands from me. "D'ye want my brother, then?"

I drew a breath. "Rory—"

"Do you want him, lass? In place of me?"

Oh, gods. "Rory—"

"Because he has a title? Because he's not a bastard? Because his sweet, lying mouth has done far more than it should have?"

"Rory!" At last, it shut his mouth. "Is railing at a woman the way you think to win her?"

THANK you, Keely.

So far, Sean's winning this contest by far. Rory's initial empathy was good, but I do not appreciate him making Keely's issues about him.

Rory says he wants to "make her hear what he's saying". Ugh.

His speech isn't terrible:

"This." He rose to his feet, looming yet again and all aglitter with mail. "That I'm not caring about the baby. That I'm not caring about what the Ihlini did, other than wanting to break more than his head— though I heard you finished him yourself with no need for a man to do it." Very briefly, he smiled, but it faded almost instantly, replaced by intensity. "What I'm caring about is you, lass. Just you. Not what you are, but who. Not the blood you have, but simply that you have it, rich and warm and red." His smile, beard-clouded, was crooked. "And if you're not wanting bairns, I'll not insist upon it."

Keely, vaguely, answers that bairns often follow the bedding. Which is an interesting response, and probably telling. With Sean, she'd suggested that after her experience with Strahan, she might not be willing to sleep with anyone. With Rory, that doesn't seem to be a concern. I'm glad for her, it's just telling.

She then tells him that his sister is coming home. This startles Rory.

"Aileen. Your sister. You may be bastard-born, but Liam's daughter is still your sister."

He stared at me hard a moment, then sighed and rubbed both hands over his face, ruffling beard and tangling forelock. "Agh, gods—sister and brother . . . where'd a man be without them? One will be Queen of Homana, the other—agh, gods!" He pulled his hands away. "Lass, there's so much I'm wanting to say. So much I'm needing to—"

Keely interrupts him. She notes that Aidan is sickly, the blood must be preserved. Aileen is barren, which leaves only her and the Erinnishman she marries. The blood DOES matter.

Rory points out that he has the same blood as Sean.

And this is interesting:

Aye, so he was. As much as Sean himself.

Oh—gods—Sean.

I don't know if I really buy the sudden turn of love vs. duty that makes up the triangle. But I could buy that Keely is genuinely attracted to both men. Sean has been here for her during some of the worst moments of her life, after all, even if she doesn't have the same instant chemistry and compatibility.

It does seem though that Keely's made a choice. And in true Keely fashion, she is making it dramatically:

"Go to the Mujhar."

"What?"

"Go to the Mujhar and tell him to fetch a priest to the Great Hall."

"Lass—"

"Tell him to gather the House of the Lion together —as well as both the eagles of the Aerie—and wait for me in the Great Hall." I drew in a breath. "With the priest, if you please."

"Keely—"

"And ask Deirdre to fetch me something to wear."

"Lass! I can't just take myself down to the Mujhar and his lady and tell them—"

"Why not?" I interrupted. "Open your mouth, Erinnish—the words will take care of themselves."

"But—"

"Go, Rory! Were you not taught never to keep a lady waiting?"

But maybe Keely isn't sure, since we get an italicized monologue wondering if she's mad as Gisella to forswear so easily for Liam's son, or if Teir is right and they lose the lir? But also, she's nothing if not loyal and the Lion needs an heir.

...is she loyal? I mean, she's not really been tested in that respect. It's not like Strahan made a real offer to her like he had the boys. But we're about to enter into drama.

Deirdre comes in, without a gown, which is fine, Keely will wear leathers instead. She does ask for red rubies. Deirdre also brings her lion's head belt, and the moment makes it sound like there's some significance here but I don't remember it being brought up.

Deirdre does insist Keely unbind her braid, even if she won't wear skirts. Keely asks Deirdre if she knows who Keely will choose. Deirdre's answer is interesting. She says she doesn't, and Keely doesn't either.

"It would do as well as anything else." She sectioned off more hair. "What is there to choose from, Keely? Two men. Both tall, both strong, both battle-proved. Both young, but not too young. Both Erinnish, to which I am partial—save for Niall, of course— and both of them Liam's sons. Eagles of the Aerie, bred of the cileann and blessed at birth on the sacred tor . . . what is there to choose from, Keely? Wealth? Health? Love? Or will the title make the difference?"

"Blood," I said numbly.

Deirdre came to stand in front of me. She caught both hands and turned them over, palm-up. "When you cut yourself on the sword, did one bleed red? The other green?" She shook her head calmly. "No. Exactly the same, from either hand; it made no difference, Keely.."

Keely thinks that she wished she had her innocence. And decides to be a dick and brings up Maeve. Telling her to ask her "bastard-born daughter if blood does not matter".

...I mean, it doesn't. Maeve HAS Niall's blood as much as Keely does. In fact, if you bother to do the math, she has ALL of the necessary blood for the prophecy, since Deirdre and Liam's mother was Atvian.

Deirdre goes pale, but still gives Keely a circlet to keep her hair out of her face.

So she goes into the Great Hall. Everyone's there. Brennan, Hart, Corin, Maeve, Ilsa, Hart's baby, Ian and Niall. Sean and Rory. And a very bewildered priest.

We get even more set up:

I looked him straight in the eye. "You wanted me wed, jehan So. I will wed. Have the priest take his place."

Rory was scowling at me. "Which of us is it, lass?"

I stood before the dais, the pit, the Lion; before them all, who stood in clusters, but none of them by the throne. I pointed at Rory, then at the place next to me, on my left. "You," I said firmly. And then, before he could speak, I motioned Sean to take the place at my right. "You." I then turned politely to the priest, who stood up one step but not on a level with the Lion, which was only for the Mujhar. "Will you recite the vows? And when you ask for the name of the man I am marrying, I will tell you which one."

But then, Roberson decides to piss me off one last time with a hell of a cliffhanger. Because there's a late arrival.

Aileen.

I looked at once to Corin. His face was still and white, but he did not turn away.

She saw him. Color rose, fell. And crept back again, slowly, setting her eyes alight even as she smiled. A small, bittersweet smile meant for neither of those who loved her, but only for herself.

Aileen looked at Brennan. Then directly at Rory, frowning, until her expression cleared. "Sean," she said, laughing, "when did you dye your beard red?"

The chapter ends here. MOTHER FUCKER.

Okay, I'm pissed off enough that I will finish the book tonight. Because the last chapter is short and because it pisses me off.
Because this means exactly what it sounds like. Let's proceed.

So, we're told, everyone scatters, leaving Keely with "Rory".

"Rory" of course is "Sean".

On one hand, I do appreciate the very romcom nature of this reveal.

As Sean explains it:

" 'Twas well known, lass, what manner of woman you were. A high-tempered, sharp-tongued lass not in mind to lie down with the lads . . . not even the Prince of Erinn." He paused. "Especially the Prince of Erinn."

There's a bit more to the monologue, he explains about how he'd been four and she hadn't been born yet when they were betrothed. He knew how he felt, and he knew about her and her freedom with "no one to understand" (not even her brothers, because Keely is oh so special. Sorry.)

Sean figured just summoning Keely, or coming to see her, would turn her off. So he and Rory hatched a scheme. They did fight, Rory had been the one hurt, and they exaggerated it and switched places. It hadn't been meant to last so long, but Liam had delayed Rory.

There hadn't been much of a lie - just the switched roles. The details are true, in reverse. And it made for a nice solution. If she chose to marry the Prince of Erinn, then Sean was there. If she chose Rory, well, he was really Sean.

And that's fine, easy. A great romcom solution, but there's one problem.

KEELY DIDN'T HAVE TO MAKE HER CHOICE.

It's the miscarriage vs. abortion thing all over again. A bit less offensive in terms of real world politics, I suppose. But still.

Keely was positioned to choose, love or duty. And even if it did turn out to be the same man, the choice actually did matter and would have had consequences. If she'd chosen Rory, her family would judge her for choosing love over duty. If she'd chosen "the Prince", she'd have to acknowledge having chosen duty over her own heart. The choice Aileen made, that Keely never stopped judging.

I would have been okay with either choice. And I would have been fine with the reveal that Rory was really Sean and that Keely could have her cake and eat it too.

But Aileen's interruption means Keely doesn't have to make the choice at all. She doesn't have to face the consequence for EITHER choice, and that pisses me the fuck off.

Keely brings up Strahan, but that's not an issue for Sean any more than it was for "Sean". And if she'd chosen "Sean", real Sean would have stopped the ceremony so that it could be legal.

Keely does get a bit of her own back for the game at least:

"Oh, I'd have slopped it. "Twas what Rory was asking, just before Aileen came, lie knew then what we'd done, and how unfair it was." A smile crept out of the beard. "But then we're not certain which of us you meant to name."

And still was not, I knew, which suited me very well. I tossed hair out of my face. "You carried out this mummery to make certain I took the man I wanted. Not because of what he was, but who . .. and now I ask you, how do you know I will not wed him? Bastard-born or not, you have proved it does not matter."

Sean held up his hand. "This." Blood stained his palm.

I laughed out loud at him. "You are both of you Liam's sons."

The color drained out of his face, what of it I could see above the beard. "Which, then, lass? Which of us do you take?"

I placed the circlet back on my brow. "The Prince of Erinn, my lord."

This gets nonsensical fast.

Sean smiled, grinned, then laughed in triumph, thrusting himself to his feet. And then checked, staring. "To you, that is Rory!"

"So it is," I agreed. "I think you had better go."

He was shaking; mail glittered. He had taken himself to the edge, and I had pushed him off.

I waited. He walked stiffly to the end of the hall, all the way to the silver doors, and then swung to face me, shouting, to reach me at the Lion. A powerful, angry shout, full of unexpected anguish. "D'ye want me to fetch him, then? D'ye want me to fetch my brother the way he once fetched me?"

...the Prince of Erinn is a title, you fuckhead. Unless you're giving your throne to Rory.

Keely clarifies that she wants him to fetch swords and the priest, so they can marry in the Erinnish way, which Aileen apparently told her about off panel.

Oh, and just to make the end more disappointing, Roberson ends it like this:

I sat down on the dais, doubling up knees and arms, perching rump on hard smooth marble. Thoughtfully, I said, "He's a braw, bright boyo, the eagle from Liam's mews ... I think he might just do." I chewed idly on a thumbnail. "If he lets me have a sword."

LETS her?

After all that, we're going with LETS her. We couldn't even have Keely say "But I'm bringing my sword." We have to leave it up to Sean.

You've fumbled the fucking landing Roberson.

Oh, and remember how at the end of Legacy of the Sword, I had a punchline for you. I told you that between book three and four, Meghan marries Evan after all and skips town, proving Donal wrong one last time?

I have a new punchline, one much more infuriating. Because between this book and the next (Aidan's fine, by the way), we'll find out what MAEVE ends up doing.

She marries Rory. And goes to Erinn. Real Rory. She gets Keely's fucking leftovers, off page even. Now I actually liked "Sean" more than I liked "Rory", so in that sense, I'm okay with it. But I am utterly pissed that it's a fucking afterthought. And of course, Keely will be Princess of Erinn. Maeve gets no title at all, going to the kingdom with the sibling who's the meanest to her, with her castoffs.

UGH.

Well, the verdict will be up shortly.