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Queen of Coin and Whispers

Page 3

by Helen Corcoran


  But he wasn’t trustworthy.

  He’d killed Papa.

  Only Matthias believed me. No one else would even consider going up against one of the most powerful people at Court.

  Papa had been a good man. Court had no use for good men.

  ‘Why do you believe this?’ the Queen asked.

  ‘My father died from illness. Six months after his death, the physician who attended him was trampled by a horse in the city. But his family were rewarded with promotions, and his children suddenly married well.’

  It was a reasonable suspicion, but difficult to prove. Matthias agreed it fitted Vigrante’s pattern of indirectly rewarding those who did his dirty work.

  The Queen frowned. ‘Then it’s in our interests to work together.’

  ‘I’m Fifth Step through my mother’s remarriage –’

  She released my wrists. ‘Don’t repeat what I already know. It doesn’t make you better qualified to bring Vigrante down instead of being my Whispers.’

  My cheeks burned, though she was right. I could get all the blackmail, all the evidence possible, and it would still be my word against Vigrante’s.

  ‘But,’ the Queen said, ‘with royal power backing you…’

  ‘I serve you in exchange for…?’

  ‘You already have merchant contacts through your family’s business affairs. I’ll give you the funds and contacts to gather informants from the Steps and rebuild Edar’s spy network.’

  ‘I still won’t have the social mobility you need for a Whispers.’ Historically, domestic threats had usually involved the Sixth and Seventh Steps, and Parliament – all areas I would be unwelcome.

  ‘I’ll handle that,’ the Queen said. ‘You work in the Treasury. It won’t be difficult to involve you in certain affairs.’

  I had a vision of all the bankruptcy files in my future.

  But Coin would be suspicious if the Queen suddenly insisted on my promotion. He’d keep an eye on me. But her uncle had surely demanded more outrageous things.

  ‘And if I refuse your offer?’ The Court didn’t publicly acknowledge Whispers, but everyone knew the position didn’t come with a long lifespan.

  ‘If you had proof of Vigrante’s involvement in your father’s death before now,’ the Queen said, ‘and could have killed him without implicating yourself, would you have done it?’

  At this point, I gained nothing by lying. ‘Yes.’

  Silence.

  I broke it. ‘So it’s blackmail, then? I become your Whispers, and you conveniently forget I want to murder Vigrante?’

  Matthias sucked in a breath. Bluntness probably wasn’t done in the higher Steps.

  People died all the time. Step nobles usually paid others to poison on their behalf, so murder never led back to them. If the Queen wanted to make an example, she could reveal me to Vigrante. He’d have me before an executioner in days. And she would have him in her debt.

  The Queen smiled. Warmth blossomed over her stern expression.

  I swallowed.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not blackmail. I’m not Vigrante. There is no trust in blackmail.’

  There was no trust between us anyway.

  ‘You have a choice, small as it is. Matthias feels you’re suited to being Whispers, and I trust his opinion. And,’ she added, ‘no one else could offer you such a chance at vengeance.’

  It’s in our interests to work together, she’d said. The Queen and her uncle had felt differently about duty and responsibility, and she’d avoided Lord Vigrante during her last few Court visits. Rumour had it she’d disliked his influence over her uncle.

  Matthias wanted her to be a certain kind of Queen. But I doubted that someone who dismissed blackmail could win against Vigrante.

  ‘May I consider your offer?’ I asked.

  She was right: no one else, not even Matthias, could give me this opportunity. But I wouldn’t become Whispers on a whim. It meant controlling information and misdirection, intercepting threats to the monarch’s life. It was risk after danger after risk, and if I wasn’t careful that could extend to my family.

  ‘Of course.’ After a moment, she said, painful and soft, ‘My father also died from illness. I will never know if it was deliberate.’

  Maybe this was my chance for answers that she’d never get.

  ‘But you must prove yourself first.’ The Queen smiled at my raised eyebrows. ‘Did you really expect me to trust you with my life without hesitation?’ She picked up my dagger from the windowsill and held it out to me.

  ‘Prove yourself, and the position is yours,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you take Vigrante down. No blackmail. No traps.’

  My heart leaped with hope, yet my common sense insisted on caution. ‘How will I know when to prove myself?’

  ‘You managed to break into the royal passages and stay alive after threatening Matthias. You’ll recognise the appropriate situation.’

  I hadn’t kept myself alive so much as she’d decided I wouldn’t die. But I was, as she’d pointed out, still alive, so I kept my mouth shut.

  I took my dagger from her.

  Chapter Five

  Lia

  Two days after we closed the family crypt on Uncle, I met with the Master of Coin.

  ‘Your Majesty, sympathies on your uncle’s passing,’ Coin said. ‘You have no money.’

  I reached across the desk for the stack of paper.

  My slim hopes for this conversation now seemed optimistic. We were drastically in the red – had been in debt since Grandfather’s final year on the throne. Thanks to my uncle’s frivolity, we’d never recovered.

  I drummed my fingers. ‘Please explain how we can afford Uncle’s funeral and my coronation?’

  ‘I begged,’ Coin said. ‘Essentially.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we put the money to better use?’

  Coin ran a hand through his greying hair. ‘The people want pomp, no matter how much they claim to hate it. No pomp? Rumours will spread about Edar’s finances. Then they panic. You don’t want that.’

  ‘You want pomp, yet act like these pages personally offend you.’

  ‘They do offend me,’ he said. ‘I hardly enjoy scrimping and stretching our credit.’

  ‘If you no longer want this position –’

  ‘I’m the best you have. I kept your uncle in his lifestyle, Parliament relatively happy, and everyone else from rioting.’ Spots of colour blazed in Coin’s cheeks.

  ‘If I had the money,’ I said, ‘I’d give you a raise.’

  Coin’s blush deepened.

  ‘But sadly we don’t. Show me the Steps’ expenditure lists.’

  A shuffle of paper, and he passed me another sheaf.

  Rage burned in my throat. ‘I was unaware the Dowager Queen would still receive such… large amounts.’ The paper trembled in my hand.

  ‘It’s reasonable enough.’ From the way reasonable enough stuck in Coin’s throat, my uncle and aunt had pelted him with the phrase until he agreed. ‘The Dowager Queen is expected to maintain a certain lifestyle.’

  ‘Our monthly incomes are now the same. I doubt she will be entertaining more than me.’ I’d hoped Aunt Jienne would avoid this sort of indirect attack. I couldn’t let it stand.

  ‘Are you certain you want to wage this battle, Your Majesty?’

  ‘Quite certain.’ I smiled grimly. ‘I want a full expenditure review. Quietly, to avoid tarnishing Uncle’s memory. You’re abundantly capable, Master Coin, but it’s time a monarch paid attention to our finances.’

  The Master of Coin waited, as if for a punchline. When it didn’t come, he smiled. ‘I’ll do my best for your coronation, Your Majesty.’ The coronation wouldn’t be until after a month of official grieving, and though preparations had quietly started once it was understood Uncle wouldn’t recover, there was a lot still to do. I was trying to immerse myself in ruling to avoid thinking about it, but everyone kept mentioning it.

  ‘Before you get too excited’ – his smile faded – �
��I have two requests.’

  ‘Whatever Your Majesty wishes.’ Coin was probably reevaluating our entire conversation, deciding that for all my grand talk I was the same as Uncle: only concerned with getting my own way.

  ‘I require funding.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘For the Master of Whispers.’

  ‘Ah,’ Coin said. Few spoke of the position, or the duties involved. The Whispers didn’t just protect me, but also Edar and its people. The identities of active Whispers were never publicly disclosed for their safety, but they had financial resources like all the other Masters and Mistresses, including accounts.

  ‘Will this be a problem?’

  ‘Of course not, Your Majesty,’ Coin said. ‘The money will be found.’ For all his complaints about our finances, he would never refuse money to my spymaster. ‘Will that be all?’

  ‘No.’ This was a gamble. Coin wasn’t a fool. He’d kept the strained Treasury functioning despite my uncle and aunt’s demands. There was no logical reason for my request, except that I wanted it, and I couldn’t plant the smallest link in Coin’s mind between Miss Bayonn and Whispers. ‘I propose a weekly meeting where I’m kept informed of our financial affairs.’

  ‘I highly approve,’ Coin said. ‘I will make the time.’

  ‘I want Xania Bayonn promoted to the position.’

  Instead of blankly staring, as I expected, Coin narrowed his eyes. I couldn’t overstep in his domain, but I needed regular contact with Miss Bayonn. She would also join my ladies, but a promotion would give her additional Treasury access.

  ‘She hasn’t the necessary experience,’ Coin finally said. ‘Not that I’d trust anyone other than myself to report to you.’

  ‘Your concern has been noted, but Baron Farhallow speaks highly of her.’ Or he would have, if our introduction had gone as planned.

  Coin’s jaw flexed. He didn’t speak for several moments, as if trying to calculate how badly this could reflect on him if Miss Bayonn offended me.

  ‘If she’s unsatisfactory, you can take over.’ I paused, then threw out my last gambit. ‘Surely you agree it’s time for a new generation to prove themselves?’

  Coin relaxed. A new young monarch, eager to promote those her own age, was someone he recognised and could handle. And if I was proven wrong – well, it was more leverage for him that I needed his guidance. ‘Very well. Her father was satisfactory’ – high praise from Coin – ‘but her mother does come from a distinguished banking background. What about a trial run, Your Majesty? A month, then we’ll review her performance?’

  ‘Agreed. That will be all.’ He rose and bowed. When he reached the door, I added, ‘And Master Coin?’

  He froze.

  I tapped the paper with my aunt’s outrageous budgets. ‘After my aunt and I have discussed her lifestyle expectations, I believe we have the necessary money for your raise.’

  Coin opened and closed his mouth, then: ‘Your Majesty…’

  ‘You may leave.’

  It wasn’t bribery when the Queen ordered it. Or so I assured myself.

  Everyone, no matter their noble intentions, had a price.

  Chapter Six

  Xania

  Coin’s temper had been short today, his instructions clipped and incomplete. Everyone had given him a wide berth. Now we were the last ones in the Treasury.

  ‘Up here, Bayonn,’ he said. ‘Now.’

  The Queen had warned me to prepare for this. It hadn’t made it easier. I’d worked hard to prove myself since joining the Treasury, determined to get promoted on my own merits. She’d ruined my efforts with barely a raised eyebrow.

  From the tight set of Coin’s mouth, he was either proud or furious with me. Maybe both. With him, they were often two sides of the same… well, coin.

  He tapped his pen against his blotter. Not a good sign.

  ‘Bayonn, how did you attract Her Majesty’s notice?’

  ‘I impressed her.’ Not the smartest thing I’d ever done.

  Coin jabbed the pen nib into the blotter. ‘Never impress a Queen.’

  ‘I’ll take that into consideration for the next one.’

  He graced me with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile, then stood. ‘Follow me. Her Majesty requested that I trust you with new duties, and I am her servant.’

  I followed him up the spiralling steps behind his desk.

  The Treasury grew every few years: the paperwork and records constantly demanded more space. When the rooms strained at the seams, they’d looked up instead, carving mezzanines between the higher floors, looping stairs into the gaps to connect them.

  Coin liked to tell visitors the groaning shelves would probably collapse, eventually, and kill us.

  Two floors up, he unlocked a door I hadn’t been allowed through before. The smell of old paper and older parchment hung in the air. A large table took up most of the room, surrounded by walls of locked drawers. Splashes of colour and engraved symbols beside the keyholes denoted the shelving systems. Only Coin fully knew how it all cross-referenced. It wasn’t enough to become Master of Coin through bribery or outside influence; without knowledge and experience, the Treasury would devour itself within days.

  ‘Sit,’ Coin said.

  I faced a stack of paper, pens, and ink.

  He sat opposite me. ‘I will speak. You will take notes.’

  I’d had sessions like this with my supervisors. They examined my Treasury knowledge, drilled me on how to respond to unusual paperwork, or nobles digging their heels in against the reality of their finances: everything I needed to know to rise up the ranks. Being examined by Coin would be harder, but not impossible.

  When he finally paused for breath, ink splattered my papers and trembling fingers. A steady ache throbbed behind my right eye.

  ‘Take a moment, Bayonn.’

  I cleaned my fingers. ‘If this is what the Queen’s weekly meetings are like, why would anyone want to rule?’

  ‘Excellent question,’ Coin said. ‘Welcome to duty’s pretty chain. Why are we concerned about the potential southern drought?’

  ‘It could threaten the harvests.’ Coin had recommended increased port trading to soften the blow, but – ‘If they’re affected, the Queen will have to buy grain. If Farezi realises our harvests are failing, they’ll raise their grain prices.’ And Coin would have to find the money somewhere, regardless, so people could still eat bread.

  The long, curt lesson of droughts, and harvests, and upset nobles – everything feeding into everything – made my head spin. My usual grumbling about paperwork and budgets felt puny. The Queen was the heart of Edar, but when the Treasury felt pain it affected everything else.

  The Treasury’s funds depended not only on taxes, but on nobles approaching Coin for loans instead of the banks. I’d never truly realised how much Coin had to be aware of so everything ran smoothly. No part of the precarious balance under his control could fail.

  Not even the groaning shelves.

  Coin frowned, and reached for one of the many sets of keys on his belt. He eased a key off and held it out. ‘Do not make me regret this, Bayonn.’

  It was reassuringly solid in my palm. The symbols carved into the head corresponded to the drawers it opened. Coin guarded access to his kingdom jealously. Those directly under him who’d worked here the longest had keys to specific rooms or records, but still had only a combined fraction of access. No one could loan a key to someone else. It meant the rest of us had to run around to get any necessary extra files. It made for frustrated, long days, but you adapted to Coin’s methods or didn’t work for him.

  I was years away from getting any key. Or I had been. ‘You honour me, sir.’

  ‘No. I honour our Queen.’

  Someone knocked on the main doors below. We stared at each other. No one visited the Treasury this late at night.

  ‘Stay here.’ Coin hurried downstairs as the knocking turned into pounding.

  I crept towards the railings and crouc
hed to peer down at the main floor. Coin’s cat – a mass of silky black and white fur, known only as Coin’s cat despite all the names people had tried over the years, and just as grumpy as him – crept out from wherever she’d been hiding, and butted her head against my legs until I scratched behind her ears.

  He flung open the doors. ‘What?’

  ‘Master Coin.’

  I stiffened at Lady Brenna’s voice. She and Lord Hazell were influential Government members – and Vigrante’s closest allies. To reach him, you went through them first.

  ‘Lady Brenna.’ Coin’s voice held a note of surprise. ‘This is unexpected.’ He stepped back to let her into the room.

  Her pale brown curls tumbled around her shoulders. She flicked at imaginary creases on her green dress. ‘A word in your office, please,’ she said. ‘I’m not on Vigrante’s business.’ Her tone didn’t quite ring true.

  ‘Of course.’ Coin sounded wary. He led her to his office, which he only used for meetings, preferring to supervise us while he worked. The door shut, almost decisively, as if warning me not to eavesdrop.

  I sighed and returned to the room, the cat chirping as she raced ahead.

  Brenna was hardly ten years older than me. When she was my age, her family had hoped for a match in Farezi’s higher circles, who disliked their noble ladies considering careers. A long-term Treasury rumour insisted that Coin had offered her a position that completely bypassed the lower ranks, which her family had refused on her behalf. But Vigrante had seen the ghost of her potential. No wonder she’d allied with him.

  I hefted the key in my palm, eyeing the drawers around me. My key had been engraved with a barbed rose, a peacock feather, and a quarter moon, splashed with red. I opened drawers with those symbols, trying to figure out what Coin had granted me access to – or what the Queen had demanded I have access to.

  I now had information on people and families I wasn’t normally privy to. But Coin’s punch of a lecture, and each drawer I opened, hinted that it extended to other areas in the Treasury connected to the Queen.

 

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