Froi of the Exiles by Melina Marchetta Read Free Book Online Page A

her face twitch at the mention of the word
weak
.
    ‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Another day. Perhaps next week.’
    ‘And then perhaps the week after that and then the week after that,’ he suggested with little humour.
    He saw the pain flash across her face.
    ‘Do it, Isaboe. You must show strength!’ Finnikin could see her softening and he nodded. ‘Now,’ he urged in a whisper.
    Isaboe took a ragged breath before crouching to the floor. Finnikin knelt down beside her. Their daughter looked from one to the other. She had Finnikin’s face and Isaboe’s hair, and now she was nearing the age of two, she was showing some of Trevanion’s temperament, which was beginning to alarm both of her parents.
    ‘Jasmina, my beloved. Finnikin and I …’
    Isaboe’s eyes met Finnikin’s and he nodded at her with encouragement.
    ‘ … We’ve had the most beautiful of beds made for you. So beautiful that every little girl in the whole of our kingdom wants to sleep in it. Tonight we thought you could sleep in the most
beautiful
bed in Lumatere, and Finnikin and Isaboe could sleep on their own. Together.’
    Together. Finnikin smiled at Isaboe. He was proud of his queen. Proud of them both. Jasmina meant everything to them and he couldn’t imagine their lives without this blessing. He did imagine frequently, however, sharing a bed with
just
his wife while their little blessing was asleep in another room.
    Their daughter stared from Finnikin to Isaboe. He beamed at her, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in days.
    Jasmina’s bottom lip began to tremble.
    ‘Do you think she’s going to be smarter than us?’ he asked as they lay in bed later that night. He could see the moon through the balconette doors before them, looking almost close enough to grab and, as usual, it made him wonder about all things strange and mysterious. And about how insignificant he was in the scheme of things.
    Finnikin turned to see Isaboe bending to kiss Jasmina’s brow as she slept between them. ‘Most probably,’ she murmured.
    ‘Then she won’t need us one day.'
    ‘What a thing to say, Finnikin,’ Isaboe said, ‘when I feel a need for my father and mother now, more than I ever have.’
    ‘True enough,’ he said gently. ‘It may have to do with such attachments belonging to women,’ he added.
    When Finnikin added words, he always regretted it. He was regretting it now because the flames from the fireplace illuminated his wife’s stare of disbelief.
    ‘Your father lives in the chamber beside us, Finnikin. You speak to him every night and every morning and if for some reason you can’t sleep through the night, you speak to him then as well. Do you not see that as an attachment?’
    She waited for his response and he chose not to reply because then they’d get into a discussion about why Trevanion had not announced his betrothment to Beatriss yet, which would lead back to a discussion about empty Flatland villages. Then they would both fall asleep thinking of neighbourless Flatlanders and Finnikin would wake up in the dark, despairing for his kingdom. Not able to get back to sleep, he’d knock on his father’s door because Trevanion didn’t sleep either, and then Isaboe would win this argument.
    ‘True enough,’ he sighed. He could see her mind was already elsewhere and he knew exactly where.
    ‘Sleep and don’t think about it,’ he said. He was sick and tired of the subject of Charyn.
    ‘How can I not?’ she asked. ‘Barren wombs and curses. If you ask me, they’ve poisoned all their children.’
    ‘If only you did believe that, then we could kill the Charynite in the mountain and banish those in the valley and not send Froi into the unknown.’
    Isaboe turned to face him. ‘But you must think it’s all strange?’
    ‘Isaboe,’ he said, exasperated. ‘Unbeknownst to us, our neighbouring kingdom has not birthed a child for eighteen years. How can I not think it strange?’
    She placed a finger to her lips as a