“How am I meant to win support if no one will stay in the same room with me for more than a minute?” I asked.
Mother began writing something on the parchment, and I stood so I could peer over her shoulder. It was a list of names, almost entirely unfamiliar, though I did recognize the wife of one of the former kings from my lessons. “These are the people I used to consider my friends. Some are distant relatives, and others are women I used to enjoy playing Kins with or inviting around for tea.”
I knew Mother’s parents had disowned her in disgrace after I was born, and had retired to a countryside manor on the outskirts of Embrill to escape the turmoil at court, but she had never spoken much of her more distant relatives.
She began adding marks beside most of the names. “These ones did not speak to me after you were born, and I doubt they would acknowledge me now. The rest—” She sighed. “Eighteen years is a very long time. I hardly know any of these people any longer. The girls I played with will have grown children of their own by now, and the great-aunt I admired is long dead.”
“Maybe I would be better off looking to make new alliances of my own, rather than relying on your former acquaintances,” I said glumly. That had next to no chance of succeeding.
“Oh, don’t give up hope yet. You have waited your entire life for this moment. We must fight to stay afloat.”
Mother sprinkled salt over the parchment and left it to dry. Rising, she held the door of the study open for me. “We will make our first foray now. Best to start before Olleack makes a formal announcement.”
9
Alliances
W e had just left our wing of the palace, two of our family’s guards flanking us, when I spotted a servant wearing our Reycoran family colors—blue and gold—disappearing into the Ruunan wing.
Mother’s mouth set in a grim line. “Too late now. Everyone will know.”
At the entrance to the Ruunan wing, where grey stone covered by tapestries changed to a narrow corridor with wood paneling painted in rich patterns, our guards stopped and were replaced by two guards from the Ruunan wing. I wondered if they had known Mother in her youth—if so, they showed no sign of it. A warm, spicy aroma drifted from the Ruunan wing, exotic and textured, very unlike the flowery scent of Mother’s chambers.
The corridor opened into a large common area with a fireplace and low couches piled with cushions. The servant we had spotted was murmuring something to three finely-dressed courtiers; one was a woman with Mother’s strong cheekbones, and the other two were men who each rested a hand unconsciously on the hilt of his decorative sword.
When one of the Aldsvell family guards cleared his throat, all four whirled to look at us. One of the noblemen wore a triumphant look, while our family’s servant looked mortified. The servant bobbed a bow and hurried off before we could question him.
“Welcome home, Ammeline,” said the woman who shared Mother’s features. “It is good to see you again after such a long time.” She gave Mother a warm smile. “I do find it odd, however, that you have chosen to visit me now, rather than when you first returned home. Especially since we have only just learned that your daughter’s inheritance will be put up to a palace vote.” Her smile remained in place.
Mother gave her an equally false smile in return. “How kind of Olleack to pass on the news. You do realize he is blinded by ambition, do you not? He and Leoth are against magic in all forms. Your own son would be disgraced if Leoth took the throne. Has he not taken to displaying his gift with fire in the most inappropriate places? I thought I caught sight of a fiery set of hunting dogs chasing a winged panther down the servants’ corridor, with some twenty young serving staff watching.”
The woman’s smile soured.
“I would hate to hear what Leoth has in mind for him. And there would be only too many servants ready to speak against him in exchange for a petty bribe.” Mother let her gaze flicker to the two Aldsvell family guards. “Besides, are you not next in line? If an unpopular queen takes the throne, your odds of replacing her rise considerably. Just think, if Leoth were to rule, you may never hold power yourself.”
“You are blunt as ever,” the woman said. “I thought you might try to rekindle our friendship, but instead you move straight to blackmail.”
“You would not have heeded me otherwise,” Mother said. “Good day.”
Without so much as glancing at the two noblemen, Mother swept from the room. I could not understand how she maintained such poise even when moving quickly—I nearly had to run to keep pace.
“That was my charming cousin, Ellarie,” Mother said drily as our own guards took up their places beside us once more. “I was—ambitious, you might say—as a child, and she saw my marriage to Baltheor as a way to win more power than I would ever have gained in my own family.”
“Was it?” I couldn’t help asking.
Mother gave me a stern look. “Of course not. I truly did love your father, and as you can see, I have had precious little time to rule by his side these past thirty years. He was last in line for the throne when I married him, and only took up the rule two years before you were born.”
“Is it true, what you were saying about your cousin’s son?”
“Every word of it. He is fourteen, at the age where admiration—especially from girls, regardless of their station—matters more than discretion. He is the only Flamespinner in his family, and has used his gifts to charm those who don’t know any better.” Mother stopped before the Mountain wing, which was closed off behind dark wood doors.
When she lifted the heavy brass knocker and let it fall twice, the doors swung open to reveal two armed guards with fur capes and delicate chainmail shirts that seemed more for show than protection.
“Welcome, Queen Ammeline,” one of the guards said. He had a friendly face half-hidden by a black beard that stood out against his paler skin. “It is a pleasure to see you, though I am afraid to say the Mountain wing is not accepting visitors at this time. Please return later.”
“Please pass my good wishes on to Mordack.” Mother curtseyed to the guard, whose eyebrows rose at the unexpected gesture.
When we turned away from the Mountain wing, I begged Mother to continue without me.
“They’ll never listen to you if I’m here,” I said. “My presence confirms exactly what Olleack’s servant will have told them. I should make myself scarce.”
Mother sighed. “That might be best. I do think you would be wise to seek out your own alliances, but proceed carefully. We walk these halls with guards for a reason. And with our direst threat coming from within our own family, we can never be too careful.”
As we parted ways, one of the guards fell into step behind her while another followed me.
“Where does your allegiance lie?” I asked the guard over my shoulder. He was a white-haired man with a strong jaw and remarkably clean teeth; he would be easy to recognize among the younger palace guards.
“We are required by law to protect the entire family we have sworn allegiance to, Your Majesty.” He continued to follow one step behind me, which was distracting—I wished he would walk beside me so we could speak properly. “That means if one member of the Reycoran family were to attack another, we would seek to bring the offender to justice while also ensuring they were protected from too harsh a sentence.”
“So you would protect me from Lord Olleack and Lord Leoth, even if the entire palace turned against me?”
“If they sought to do you harm, I would do my utmost to keep you safe.” Though I could not see his expression, his tone was genuine.
“Are you eligible to vote in the palace election?”
This time the guard chuckled. “No, only members of court are allowed to have their say. While this is the first time a successor has been put to the vote, the palace does vote on certain matters from time to time, so most of us are familiar with the proceedings. I can cast my vote in the city election, though, if it comes to that.”
“Shame.” It
was comforting to have an ally, even if he only supported me because he was legally obliged to do so.
* * *
Though Mother would not admit it, I could tell from the way her shoulders drooped at dinner that she had found no support anywhere in the palace. I could only imagine how much it must hurt to have lifelong friends turn against her through no fault of her own. I was beginning to see that most friendships here were illusive, formed out of convenience or a drive to better one’s own status.
That night, I sat in front of my mirror for a long time, staring at my reflection as the sky darkened outside.
I had not expected this to hurt so much. I had thought myself immune to the fear and rejection of others, having experienced more than enough of it in Ambervale. Yet this was different. Here I was surrounded by people who would not meet my eyes, who refused to speak to me, or who stared at me with open scorn. Mother was distant, wrapped up in her own worries and trying to rebuild her damaged reputation, and I did not want to burden her with my loneliness.
More than that, the idea I had dreamed up to win support was underhanded and manipulative, something I would not have thought myself capable of. But the court seemed to make monsters of us all.
10
The Flamespinner
N o one summoned me from my room the next morning, so after Jallera brought me a simple breakfast of boiled eggs and toast and helped me dress in what she deemed a practical gown—it had just one flounced underskirt rather than the typical three—I set out to seek my own alliances.
The kind white-haired guard was posted at the entrance to the Cheltish wing once again, and when he began following me, I stopped him.
“Please let me go out alone. If anything happens to me, I will swear I won’t let you come to grief for it.”
“You underestimate the dangers waiting for you in these halls.” His expression was grim.
“If I do, then no one will expect me to be out walking alone, and will not have a convenient plan for murdering me and disposing of my body.”
The guard grimaced, though it looked as though he was trying to hide a smile. “Well, as long as you don’t make a habit of it. If you are spotted unsupervised more than once, it will be only too easy for your enemies to catch you alone.”
I felt freer as I hurried down the great stone halls unaccompanied. With no one watching, I quickened my pace until I was nearly running. One unexpected downside of living in the palace was the excess of energy I drained from those I encountered at meals and in passing each day—with heavy skirts, constrictive shoes, and proper etiquette to worry about, I had no way to release the energy, which meant I often lay awake late into the night, my nerves buzzing.
This part of the palace I recognized; I quickly reached the dining hall and turned down the narrow corridor leading to the nearby servants’ quarters. As I had hoped, the royal assembly chamber was empty, and I slipped inside, leaving the door open so I could hear what happened outside.
Both to keep myself occupied and to provide an explanation in case anyone stumbled across me, I unfurled one of the maps on the great table and weighed the corners down with brass cubes that seemed to have been designed for that exact purpose. This particular map showed the sea that lay between Itrea and the Kinship Thrones, with strange markings that could have represented currents, shipping routes, or migration paths of certain sea creatures—it meant little to me.
Thankfully, I did not have long to wait. A boy’s voice soon rose from the hall, urgent and occasionally cracking.
“…told you, you can’t come looking for me in my family’s wing!”
“No one notices me anyway.” The stubborn response came from a girl whose accent was far less refined than that of the nobility.
“You’re just jealous that I…”
Their voices faded as they turned a corner.
Leaving the map where it was, I bounded down the short set of stairs and followed their faint voices down the servants’ corridor. It continued on for a long way, turning corners and descending a flight of stairs before climbing up again to the previous level, with many nondescript doors leading off the main hall, until it ended at a door that hung open and exhaled the most delicious medley of aromas.
Loud voices rose from the palace kitchens, punctuated by the clatter of pots and the sizzle of frying, but I could still pick out the two youths as they continued to chatter.
“You should not be here, young man,” a woman scolded. I pressed my back against the wall and peered around the corridor to see the chaos within—cooks bustling about while butlers piled trays with baked treats and steaming pots for morning tea; a maid trying to sweep up a spilled bag of grain amidst it all; and at the back, the boy and girl I had followed, sneaking steaming pastries from a tray.
“You can’t forbid me,” the boy said. “Besides, I’m just hungry. Mother didn’t give me breakfast today.”
“Was it to punish you for sneaking around with servants?” the cook scolded, waving Ellarie’s son away with a towel. “You ought not to tease my maids the way you do. Some of them will start dreaming they’ll end up with a prince someday.”
“Come on,” the girl said, tugging on the prince’s sleeve. “There’s breakfast still in our kitchen. We should get out of the way.”
They scampered away toward the door so quickly I didn’t have time to move. I withdrew my head, hoping they might run right past me, but instead the prince jumped when he saw me.
“Why are you spying on us?” Then his mouth dropped open. “You’re the evil princess, aren’t you?”
“Evil is a bit of an exaggeration,” I said, backing away from the servant girl, whose face had gone white.
“What’s going on out here?” Another cook stuck his head around the corner, scowling at the two youth, but he froze when he saw me. “Don’t hurt us, please,” he whispered. “We mean you no harm, I swear to it.” His face was almost as pale as the poor servant girl’s.
The cook who had been scolding Ellarie’s son joined him moments later. Her frown melted into shock when she saw me, but a moment later she turned her glare on me.
“Listen, young woman. You may think you own this palace, and someday that could be true, but that doesn’t give you the right to terrorize my staff. I want you to turn right around and leave, and I don’t want you back down here ever again. I’ll ask the palace to post a guard if I see you in the kitchen again, do you understand?”
“Perfectly,” I said. “I mean you no harm, I promise.” How many times would I need to repeat that before anyone believed me?
“Your very presence harms us,” the cook said, gripping the kitchen door and pulling it halfway closed. “Our job takes enough out of us without you sapping our energy further. Now go!”
Ashamed, I hurried down the corridor. Just as I reached the stairs, I was surprised to hear two pairs of footsteps running to catch up to me.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Ellarie’s son said as he skidded up behind me. “Can you stay? I bet you have loads of stories to tell.”
The servant girl glared at him, but I allowed Ellarie’s son to lead me into a simple dining room where palace staff were still finishing off their breakfast. Most of those remaining were young—their elders probably had somewhere they were meant to be.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to come here today!” one of the boys called. He was dressed in a miniature version of the uniform the palace guards wore.
“Everyone’s too busy to pay attention to me. They’re scheming about something, I’m sure of it—always hiding behind closed doors and not talking when I’m around.”
Just then, the servant boy noticed me. “Wait—is that her?”
“This is Princess Kalleah,” Ellarie’s son said proudly, as though he had brought me here on purpose.
“Isn’t she dangerous?”
“Only if you attack me,” I said. “I suspect you would be as well. Is that a real sword?”
The boy put a hand to the hilt of the
short-sword dangling from his belt. “It is.” His chest puffed up. “I’m going to join the guard force in two years.”
“How brave of you.” I turned to Ellarie’s son. “I would like to speak with you alone, if you are willing.”
“Don’t do it,” the servant girl whispered loudly. “She’ll suck the life out of you!”
“I’m not afraid,” the young prince said. “She wouldn’t dare kill me, or she’ll never be queen.”
He was wiser than I had expected.
“Here, this way.” Ellarie’s son led me back into the hallway, where we sat on the long bench beneath one of the windows. “Did you come here just to find me?”
“I did. What is your name?”
“Calden. But you can call me Cal.” With his playful expression gone, he looked older than he had first sounded. He did not bear much resemblance to his mother, and his deep brown hair had the faintest hint of the red coloring that marked most Flamespinners.
“I’ve heard that you have quite the talent with fire,” I said. “It sounds as though you are more accomplished than most Flamespinners your age.” I had no idea what most Flamespinners were like, having never met one before, but a bit of flattery would not hurt.
Cal raised one hand, and a flame appeared just above his palm. As he frowned in concentration and shifted his fingers, it took on the shape of a miniature rabbit that hopped up his arm, before morphing into a snake that wound around his shoulders.
Then, as quick as it had appeared, the flame winked out.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have showed off. But Mother doesn’t like me to practice in our wing, and I miss the way it feels.”
“That was amazing,” I said truthfully. I had never seen showy magic before, and had begun to doubt it was as impressive as Mother made it sound. “Now, I would never want to turn you against your own family, but I have learned something that might endanger all of the magic races—not just the forbidden ones.”
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