Xania
Lia kept making this soft sound, between a gasp and a whimper. My hands wanted more, my mouth wanted more. Her soft sound turned into a yelp when I trailed my lips down her throat.
Her fingers scrabbled against my back. My head reeled, and the world tilted.
We landed on the floor in a tangled heap.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked, horrified.
Lia closed her eyes and laughed.
I eyed her, before a giggle escaped me. She leaned against my shoulder, still laughing. Her breath ghosted against my neck, before she kissed the spot where my collarbone and shoulder met. My breath caught. She brought her fingertips to her mouth, then pressed them against my lips.
I kissed her fingers gently.
She made the sound again.
I wanted.
We kissed, and everything blurred until we had to pull away. My heartbeat drummed in my ears.
Lia struggled for air, her cheeks bright red. ‘So… so…’
‘Yes.’
She inched her hand towards mine; I wrapped our fingers together. Her laugh turned into a sob, but she wasn’t crying. She raised our interlocked fingers and kissed my knuckles.
I’d never come close to swooning or fainting before, but if I passed out now, I completely understood why.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘now I know you feel the same.’
Lia raised an eyebrow. ‘I gave you a novel about women falling in love.’
‘Anyone could give me that. Matthias could give me that book.’
‘Matthias would give you a historical account of notable female pirates. No romance.’
I scoffed, but it was easy to return her smile. We kissed slowly this time, the carefulness making my hands tingle and chest hurt. According to Zola’s novels, we should have been tearing at each other’s clothes, but this was terrifying enough, and Lia didn’t strike me as the clothes-ripping type. Even in my daydreams, she’d stayed sensible.
When we broke apart again, I glanced at the clock and groaned. ‘I should go.’ I couldn’t risk being late to work. I could hardly tell Coin I hadn’t got enough sleep from kissing the Queen.
Lia trailed her fingers up my arm, and sighed as I shivered. ‘I suppose.’
A small knot relaxed inside me; a tiny fear that she’d want me to stay, whether or not I was ready.
She got up, then helped me stand. ‘Good night.’ She brushed her lips across my knuckles.
I swallowed. ‘Good night.’ My hand trembled as I opened the panel and stepped into the passages. I leaned against the wall after it closed, waiting for my head to stop spinning. I’d hoped for this, but now I felt terrified. She was the Queen; I was barely Fifth Step. I was her Whispers; I was supposed to keep her safe.
But I’d coaxed sounds from her.
I pressed a hand over my mouth. A smile curved against my fingers.
I turned right. After twenty steps, I knew, like a bucket of cold water over my head, that I wasn’t alone.
Since the foreign royalty had arrived, Matthias and I inspected the passages every three days, checking the subtle clues and failsafes that kept them secure. The passages were the Whispers’ domain, but I’d always been cautious because we’d never discovered my predecessor’s identity.
I’d passed several failsafes on my way to Lia; none had been disturbed or tampered with. I turned left. A wire I’d stretched between the walls, thin and fragile enough to cleanly snap, lay on the ground.
Someone was exploring.
I headed towards a large intersection, and pressed my right sleeve against my bodice. I plucked at some loose threads, swiftly unravelling them. My dagger slipped from the sheath sewn into my sleeve, solid and reassuring in my palm. Unlike at Lia’s coronation, this time I had a weapon.
It was quiet enough that I easily caught the sound of someone’s heel grinding against loose grit behind me. My heart picked up. I embraced the adrenaline. It would keep me alive.
I hid the dagger against my skirts and counted my breaths. I reached the intersection, turned against a wall so I kept the entrances in sight, and waited.
A dozen heartbeats later, I heard footsteps. I could have drawn them further into the passages, but I didn’t want to impulsively use a different exit in case someone saw me. Waiting to strike first wasn’t much smarter, but it was the best out of my poor options.
The person stepped into the intersection.
I moved before I could doubt myself, and slashed at their face.
A low cry. I’d already moved towards his knife hand, stomping on his foot at the same time. The knife snagged on fabric, before a soft give. The man hissed and aimed his boot at my shin. I yelped, darting away from his knife swipe.
Pain burned across my chest and upper stomach. The blade had cut through my dress and corset. I swallowed my scream and tried for another lunge.
I got him across the face again. I switched my dagger to my other hand as he flinched, and slammed my palm into his nose. He reeled back towards the wall. I barely caught his knife with my own. The blades scraped against each other, as I curled my other hand into a fist.
His nose crunched.
His head smacked the wall with a similar sound, before he slumped to the ground. I swayed, gasping for breath. Pain roared through me. I pressed my hand against my dress. It was already wet with blood. I needed help.
I also needed to put this man somewhere he couldn’t escape.
I attempted deep breaths, light-headed, terrified of passing out. This was what my life had come to: not being knifed to death, yet responsible for the man who’d tried to kill me. Right now, kissing Lia didn’t feel like suitable compensation.
‘All right,’ I told him. ‘I suppose I better do something with you.’
I bullied my cloudy mind into logic. I had to keep pressure on the wound. It didn’t feel deep enough for panic, but I wasn’t sure how much blood I’d lost, so pressure it was.
Well. My dress was already ruined.
I cut at my underskirt, wrapped strips around my chest, cursed as I struggled to tighten them. The pain was now a steady burn, with occasional flares. I’d no illusions about how much it would hurt when a physician got involved. How could I explain this? Fifth Step ladies didn’t get themselves into these situations.
Worry about that later.
I pulled the man away from the wall. I’d have to drag him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but I could feel muscle in his shoulders and arms. I gripped his upper arms, braced myself, and started pulling him back the way we’d come.
It hadn’t taken long to reach the intersection before. Time and distance mocked me on the way back. My arms ached. Sweat pooled under my dress. The bleeding, which I thought had slowed, started again. Fresh warmth spread across the dried, stiff fabric.
Only a little further. You’d feel worse if you were dying.
The light-headedness returned. I’d probably collapse into Lia’s arms. Zola would be so proud of me.
When we reached Lia’s wall, I didn’t care about patterns or finesse, or acting like a swooning damsel. I dumped the man near the edge of the panel, then hammered at the wall, swaying, the dregs of my energy gone.
The panel opened. Lia peered out. Her face brightened, before something gave me away. She stared at my chest, frowning at the underskirt strips, then realised the darker stain was blood.
She yanked the panel open wider, her eyes wide. ‘Xania, what happened?’
I stared down at my chest. ‘It looks worse than it is.’
‘Let a physician decide.’
She gently helped me into the study, then stood, flexing her hands open and closed. She was frightened.
I swayed, leaning against her when she reached for me. ‘The man who attacked me is in the passages.’
‘If I let go, promise you won’t topple?’
I nodded, and she stuck her head in the passage, then turned back to face me with a raised eyebrow.
‘He’s not dead,’ I sai
d. ‘I only knocked him out.’
‘How did you get him here?’
‘I dragged him.’
‘While bleeding?’
I nodded.
She cupped my face in her hands. ‘You’re wonderful. I’ll tell you properly when this is over, but just so you know.’
I blushed – it hurt – then looked away, which also hurt. Everything seemed to hurt. ‘I… I… need to sit down.’
Lia jerked back, mortified, then helped me to a chair. She rummaged in a drawer for a thin towel and pressed it into my hands. ‘Keep it against the wound.’ Now she resembled the Lia I knew, brisk and competent. She strode towards a row of bells and yanked two of them.
‘Who are you calling?’
‘A servant to wake Matthias,’ she said, ‘and my physician.’ She gave me her best queenly stare. ‘You’re not leaving until you’ve been treated. Do you know the best thing about the royal physician?’
I shook my head.
‘She swore an oath of silence when she took the position.’ Lia’s expression hardened. ‘If anyone finds out about this, it will be from you, me, Matthias – or her.’
Polite knocking on the door.
‘I’ll help you into the next room,’ Lia said. ‘If it’s the servant for Matthias, I don’t want them to see…’ She eased the panel back until only a sliver of the passage showed – if the man regained consciousness and tried to flee, she’d hear him – and helped me into the adjoining room. I barely swallowed a wince as I sat. She rubbed my arm, attempted a smile, and returned to the other room.
The pain changed to a steady throbbing. Lia returned, followed by a woman with deep auburn hair and blue eyes. Lia took my hand. ‘It’s easier if you do what she says.’
The woman laughed. ‘The same can be said for you, Your Majesty.’
Lia’s physician was about a decade older than us and sternly cheerful. Lia supplied her with hot water and towels. When my dress had to come off, she retreated to wait for Matthias.
I hissed at the bared knife wound, slashed diagonally from the inside of my left breast towards my stomach. The physician carefully washed away the blood. ‘You’re lucky,’ she finally said. ‘The brocade and corset protected you from the worst. You need stitches, but it won’t scar badly if you’re careful.’
She didn’t need to say what would have happened if I’d worn a different dress, or moved slower.
Her brisk competence was intimidating: before I knew it, she was ready to stitch me up. I gritted my teeth as she worked, silently counting each stitch.
‘Can you take bed rest?’ She rubbed balm onto bandages that went over the fresh stitches, then wrapped everything in dry bandages. She spoke without much hope; if I was being treated in the Queen’s quarters, I was clearly involved in things best kept secret. I couldn’t have bed rest for something I couldn’t explain.
‘No.’
‘Of course not. Then see me every morning. Come before or after breakfast. I’ll give you my mark so an apprentice doesn’t enthusiastically send you away.’
‘I can change the dressings,’ I said.
She smiled. ‘Her Majesty thinks highly enough of you to wake me in the middle of the night. Your well-being is now my concern. Don’t worry. I’ll include lectures on the dangers of intimate involvement with knives.’
My laugh turned into wheezing as my wound pulled.
‘No laughing, for a start. Knife wounds are not a laughing matter.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And remedy whatever is the cause of your lack of sleep.’
After giving me powders I could dissolve into drinks for pain relief, the physician left. Lia mixed a dose and waited with crossed arms until I drank it all.
She gave me mint tea afterwards. ‘I think she deliberately makes them taste foul.’
‘How long have you known her?’
‘She was my physician at home. When I took the throne, she came south with me.’
I squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘I could hardly do nothing…’ She bit her lip.
I kissed the back of her hand.
Lia swallowed. ‘You should sleep. You’ll be in pain tomorrow. A servant will walk you back.’ Now that the passages were compromised, we would have to be careful. I would hardly be attacked in the halls, but Lia probably feared I’d pass out.
‘What about the man? And Matthias?’
‘We’ll tell you in the morning,’ Lia said. ‘You need to rest.’
She was right, but I was still irritated that she’d automatically taken control.
We stood at another knock. Lia brushed my cheek and kissed me. ‘Good night, Xania.’ Her eyes gleamed with tears. ‘I… I…’ She shook her head in frustration.
I’m glad I’m alive, too. I leaned up, ignoring the pinch in my chest, and kissed her back. ‘Good night, Lia.’
The servant didn’t speak as we walked, likely irritated at being awake but too professional to show it. I strained to hear other footsteps in the silence.
I checked my locks five times before carefully crawling into bed. I lay there for a long time before I tipped over the edge of sleep. Pain pricked at the edges of my consciousness, a warning of what awaited me in the morning.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lia
There wasn’t enough face powder in the country to help me with the day ahead.
‘You look about as good as I feel,’ Matthias said.
‘You’re most kind.’
He collapsed into a seat and scraped his hands over his face. ‘Can we claim illness and go back to bed?’
In the entire time I’d known Matthias, he’d never shown weakness. But he’d dragged Xania into this, and now she was hurt. I dumped sugar and cream into his coffee, as he sat miserably with his guilt.
I passed his cup over. ‘Have you seen her yet?’
‘No answer when I knocked. I presumed she was with your physician.’
We drank and ate despite our lack of appetite, steeped in silence, until Xania walked in. She moved carefully, her face tight, but attempted a smile. ‘Good morning.’
‘Don’t even think of curtseying. You’ll faint.’ I jabbed a finger at the seat beside me. She meekly lowered herself into it.
Matthias raised his eyebrows. ‘Did you manage any sleep?’ he asked her.
‘A little.’ She nodded when I pointed at the teapot. ‘I woke before dawn, but didn’t try to sit up for a while.’
‘Are your stitches all right?’ I asked.
‘I didn’t pull any. The physician is satisfied, though she’d be happier if nothing had happened in the first place. How is our friend this morning?’
‘Better than when he regained consciousness last night. What did you hit him with?’
‘The wall,’ Xania said serenely. ‘Has he said anything?’
‘Not yet. Kartek and Curjan are enjoying the challenge.’ Matthias undermined his calm words by tearing up a slice of bread.
‘So you’ve no idea who employed him?’ I asked.
Matthias eyed more of the bread. ‘Not yet.’
‘It was probably Rassa,’ Xania said.
Matthias and I stared at her. She continued eating Matthias’s shredded bread.
I recovered first. ‘Any particular reason?’
She sipped her tea, then said, ‘I did actually meet him, but not for what he implied.’
‘What happened?’
‘We ate dessert,’ Xania said, ‘and he threatened me.’
‘He what?’
‘Don’t act so surprised, Your Majesty,’ Matthias muttered. ‘Rassa isn’t subtle.’
‘I’m going to–’
‘What, Your Majesty?’ Xania’s eyes narrowed. ‘What precisely are you going to do?’
Rage thickened in my throat, choking my common sense. ‘I don’t know! Why didn’t you tell me this last night?’
Matthias’s eyebrows drew together, likely at my tone, but I was too furious to care.
Hurt flickered across Xa
nia’s face, swiftly followed by anger, then embarrassment. Of course she wouldn’t have wanted to admit what Rassa had done. I had no right to lash out – even if, when I closed my eyes, I saw her standing before me, bloody and panicked.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
She nodded uncomfortably.
Matthias looked between us, perplexed and suspicious. I’d fussed since Xania had arrived, and not only had she allowed it, she’d addressed me by title only after I’d provoked her. And, as Xania had said last night, monarchs didn’t apologise. Uncle never had, and even I tried to avoid it.
Whatever expression was on my face, it made Matthias gulp the last of his coffee. ‘I’ve suddenly remembered something I should do.’
I waved him off. To most people, his speed would have been unseemly.
Xania frowned. ‘You didn’t need to make him leave.’
‘Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have been angry that you didn’t tell me about Rassa.’
She shrugged.
I pressed my lips together hard enough to hurt, but my voice was still thick as I said, ‘When I saw you bleeding last night, I – you could have died, and it would have been my fault. You were in the passages because of me.’
Xania’s mouth trembled. ‘I didn’t choose to be your Whispers lightly. I knew there would be danger.’
We sank into an uncomfortable silence. I turned my cup in circles, searching for the right words. ‘I’m not sure how to balance these… these feelings with my duty. Our duty.’ Mine as Queen, hers as Whispers.
Xania considered my words, long enough for me to worry, then stretched her hand out. I placed my palm in hers. ‘I understand,’ she said, soft and serious. ‘I... I know it was only a kiss. And you’re my Queen, I should hardly expect anything–’
‘But there is something.’ My hand tingled. I desperately wanted to drag her across the table and kiss her, even though it would hurt her stitches.
She laughed unsteadily, and I wondered how badly she wanted to kiss me, too. ‘Yes, yes, there is.’
I would have to marry Aubrey. It would be better if we rejected these feelings, even now that we’d admitted them.
Instead, we sat, our palms together, close enough to kiss.
Queen of Coin and Whispers Page 16
