The Tears of the Rose by Jeffe Kennedy

at me in the mirror wore the same face I’d always known. Still beautiful.
    Not ugly as I’d imagined. All that had happened had failed to touch me. Nothing dimmed the fiery river of my hair, the translucence of my skin, the twilight blue of my eyes, enormous in my delicate face. I’d heard myself described in poems before I knew half the words to assign to the features the mirrors showed me.
    The most beautiful woman in the Twelve Kingdoms. Then and still.
    My gift from Glorianna and a sign of Her favor. She would no more strip me of that radiance than She could tear it from Her own being. Though Glorianna’s enemies had torn Hugh from me, I would not give up Her fight. His death would not be in vain. Our child would be High King and cleanse the land of the Tala.
    Glorianna willed it.
    I would honor her will.

    If Ursula looked at me strangely the next morning, I put it down to the fact that she hadn’t seen me out of mourning since we’d reunited. Of course, she was angry that I’d delayed our departure by hours while Dulcinor recruited the Louson maids into sewing my new pink gown. Not that I cared a whit for Ursula’s moods.
    I belonged to Glorianna and I would honor Her.
    â€œDone primping?” Ursula asked, looking me up and down.
    â€œAnd puking, yes, thank you.”
    She had the grace to look chagrined, and I enjoyed the score. Even though the queasies were much better thanks to Marin’s concoctions. I sent Dafne to ride with some of the other ladies, so Kir could talk with me more about Glorianna and his plans to recover Annfwn for us and for Glorianna’s greater good.
    For all I knew, Dafne was one of them. Who said the shape-shifting demons couldn’t masquerade as humans, too? It seemed more and more likely that she was a spy and her supposed concern for me a clever ruse to gain my confidence. But I would be more clever than she.
    As for the midwife, she simply spent her time knitting, humming to herself, and glancing up from time to time to check my color. She seemed to know when the carriage movement was getting to me, handing me well-timed mints or thin toasts to chew on before I realized I needed them.
    Time passed quickly with High Priest Kir’s excellent conversation. I hadn’t recognized before what a well-educated and intelligent man he was. And so devout. His allegiance to Glorianna practically glowed from his countenance. Never before had I understood the true foundation of the war the Tala had waged—and catastrophically won—to wrest Andi’s loyalty from us.
    More and more I understood how they’d clouded her mind with half-truths and used her emotions against her. As I’d suspected, she didn’t love Rayfe. Even if she believed she did, it would be impossible because he wasn’t even human. It made so much sense—though the Tala appeared to be people, they were truly animals and thus without souls.
    â€œLove is the expression of the soul, Your Highness,” Kir explained. “It is the pure and true animus of us as Glorianna’s children. In Her wisdom, Glorianna gave us love to connect our souls together, to give us solace until we return to Her encompassing light. Thus, love must be given to be received, and received to be given. It’s an eternal cycle.”
    â€œSo the Tala cannot love.”
    Kir shook his head, looking somber and sorrowful. “No. You are as insightful as you are beautiful, Princess. You are correct: the Tala cannot give or receive love because they aren’t Glorianna’s children.”
    â€œWhose children are they?”
    â€œSome say Moranu’s. Others say they belong to none of the trinity but are simply animals that have learned to mimic humans.”
    â€œThen Andi has been bewitched.”
    He considered that, then leaned forward. “Your compassionate nature does you credit, Your Highness. You are indeed Glorianna’s avatar on this earth. You