As she tugged at my bodice laces, I asked, ‘Are you seducing me?’
‘Is it working?’
I turned. We kissed until she tightened her fingers in my hair, and I clung to her to stay upright.
I woke to the sound of rain against the windows. The fire had burned down to flickering coals. I shifted, savouring the smooth sheets and warm blankets.
Lia wrapped her arm around my waist. ‘What’s wrong?’ she mumbled, drowsy with sleep.
‘Nothing.’
She kissed the nape of my neck.
‘Did they teach you seduction before or after the political manipulation and curtseying?’
She laughed, and we sank into a comfortable silence.
‘There were girls I liked, of course,’ she said after a while, shifting her arm as I turned to face her. ‘I eventually told Matthias. He’s the only man I ever considered kissing, but all it proved was I didn’t want to kiss men and he didn’t want to kiss women.’
Now wasn’t the time for jealousy, yet I still asked, ‘Have there been many?’
‘Women?’
I nodded.
‘One,’ she whispered against my mouth.
My body tightened.
‘By then, I knew I’d be Queen, so romance was inadvisable.’ She tucked her head against my shoulder. ‘If Mother or Uncle found out, or any of the other countries – well, marriage negotiations would be awkward.’
‘So you’ve been alone.’
‘I’ve admired. And comforted Matthias over his relationships. But no, I didn’t want to act – until you.’
I should have been flattered. Instead, terror scorched my insides.
‘And you?’
‘No one. It never felt like the right time.’ It still didn’t, but that hardly mattered now. ‘Zola likes men and women. But I’m the elder. I’ll marry whoever Mother feels will improve our prospects. But then you returned to Court.’
‘Well, why wouldn’t you be attracted to the Queen?’
‘It’s not the crown that makes you arrogant!’ I trailed my fingertips down her face, and let out a shaky breath as she kissed my palm.
It was easy to imagine the future of my daydreams: sitting with her in the evenings, teasing her taste in novels and attempting to better the intimate scenes; laughing at her in the morning before she’d had coffee. It felt too close, too possible, all lies. None of it addressed the reality of loving a Queen or ruling a country. Falling for her had been inadvisable enough; succumbing to my feelings was worse. As Whispers, I already worried about keeping her safe. This, whatever it was, would make everything more difficult.
Her smile faded. She traced my knife scar. ‘Don’t think about it now. Everything always seems worse at night.’
We both jumped at the pounding on the door.
Lia caught my wrist before I leaped from the bed to hide. ‘Only Matthias has permission to–’ She tossed the blankets aside and reached for her robe.
The door burst open when she was still tightening it around her waist. Matthias rushed into the room.
Lia’s cheeks turned bright red. ‘You know better–’
‘Get dressed!’ Matthias’s eyes were wild, his face sweat-slicked. His shirt gaped open, without a neckband or waistcoat, over rumpled trousers. ‘Vigrante is dead.’
Chapter Thirty-One
Lia
The Queen storming through the corridors commanded respect – or fear. Nobles scrambled out of my way. No one made eye contact.
People were already swarming at Vigrante’s rooms, and scuttled back at the sight of me.
‘Your Majesty–’
I ignored Matthias and strode through the doors.
Vigrante’s entrance room was undisturbed: elegant in red and gold with black accents. Simple, sturdy furniture and hunting paintings of acceptable standards. A bookcase, its contents well-read rather than decorative.
His bedroom door stood ajar.
I walked in.
My stomach rolled. The scent of blood hung in the air, curdled on my tongue when I swallowed.
I would not vomit. Or faint.
Vigrante had fought back. I followed his bloody path to where he lay sprawled and cold. Someone had closed his eyes.
I didn’t want to go any further. I feared disturbing anything that might reveal who’d killed him.
I had to make it clear I hadn’t orchestrated this. The animosity between us was well known. Even rumours of my involvement in his death would destroy the fragile balance between monarchy and Parliament. Edar would explode into civil war.
Perhaps both Vigrante and I had been manipulated.
I stepped back into the hall, hoping others would take my trembling for rage instead of fear.
Xania stood at the edge of the crowd, alert and tense. She’d waited before running after me so we didn’t arrive together. Now I wished she’d stayed behind. I wanted her separate from this, untainted from the blood and violence in Vigrante’s suite, even though she was my Whispers.
‘The Commander of the Palace Guard will report to me, as will the guards who last patrolled here.’ My voice simmered with anger. Nothing could be gained from politeness at this point. ‘We will find who is responsible for this, and there will be no mercy.’
My eyes burned from lack of sleep. The entire Court would know Vigrante was dead by breakfast. This was the last drop of time left before everything descended into panic.
I paced in my bedroom.
Xania stared at the wall.
Vigrante’s death had been denied to us both. I’d never fulfill Brenna’s final wish.
‘You should return to your family.’
Xania looked as if I’d demanded she sprout wings and capture the sun.
‘You must be accounted for.’
‘But–’
I glanced at my unmade bed, remembering her warmth, her skin, our laughter as the rain struck the windows. I wouldn’t experience something that lovely, that simple again for a long time.
I banished the memory for now. It would help when things were too much to bear. ‘If I say I was with you, your family will find out.’
‘You’re ashamed, Your Majesty.’
My title stung. ‘Of course not. But I can handle the gossip. The scandal. You and your family…’
‘We’re not strangers to gossip,’ Xania said. ‘Mama would care about my happiness, after the shock – but if I destroy Zola’s chances...’
I kissed her cheek. Truthfully, I wanted her to stay. Her reasons for going after Vigrante had been personal – and the loss of vengeance, which had fuelled her for so long, would eventually hit. I wanted her to scream and cry with me, where she could show it freely.
‘You should get back.’ I hesitated. ‘If you want to tell them about us, I’ll speak with your family.’
‘If you think diplomats are difficult, wait until you deal with my mother.’
She kissed me. Despite my strengthening headache and the fear hammering against my ribs, I sighed when she pulled back. ‘We should have given in weeks ago. We could have enjoyed this more.’
‘I won’t let this ruin being with you,’ she said.
‘One of us is wise.’
‘I’ll reread Hazell’s file again,’ Xania said. ‘His discussions with Alexandris could have masked a bid for power. And a guard must follow you everywhere.’
I nodded. ‘I’d prefer if you only used the passages with Matthias, but–’
‘That’s not possible,’ she said firmly. ‘We can’t always wait for each other. I’ll be careful.’
I sighed. ‘Very well. And start thinking of who should investigate Vigrante’s death. I’ll summon you and Matthias later.’
She kissed me again before leaving.
The silence pressed against me.
A knock: Matthias entered with a tray of coffee and whiskey.
‘We could drink the coffee first, or lace it with whiskey, or–’ He broke off when I wrestled the decanter open and sloshed whisk
ey into the teacups. ‘Or we could get drunk.’
‘No.’ I took a large swallow. ‘I only need enough to help the coffee kick in. I won’t be sleeping for a while.’
‘You and Xania actually slept?’
It was a ludicrous thing to say, under the circumstances, but laughing felt better than I’d expected. ‘For a little while.’
‘At least one of us has something to look forward to at night.’
I gulped more whiskey. ‘Vigrante couldn’t have planned this better if he’d actually intended to die.’
‘May he rot,’ Matthias said, almost fondly.
‘Please tell me you didn’t orchestrate this. It’s a shambles, and I expect better from you.’
‘I expect better from myself. Alexandris is an obvious choice, but it’s too easy.’
‘Doesn’t matter if it can’t be traced to him.’
‘Alexandris is too idealistic for a politician,’ Matthias said, ‘never mind having the stomach for orchestrated murder.’
‘Xania suspects Hazell.’
Matthias tilted his head, considering. ‘Potentially. Puts his discussions in a different light.’
Vigrante had kept his head down after Brenna’s death to wait out the whispers and criticism. Hazell had been visibly horrified in Brenna’s rooms, but I’d assumed his fear wasn’t as strong as Vigrante’s grip on his obedience. Perhaps I’d underestimated Hazell’s resentment of Vigrante, and his ability to lunge for power when it was close.
Matthias finished his whiskey and went to pour another. I moved the bottle away, and he reached for the coffeepot instead.
‘Vigrante spoke to me privately yesterday.’
Matthias froze with the coffee in midair. ‘And?’
‘He offered a compromise.’
‘Ah.’
‘The Court, especially those in Parliament, has become too influenced by our visitors. Vigrante claimed they planned to overturn the merchant laws. He was suppressing it – and would stop it, if I made examples of certain nobles.’
‘Whose support he’d be sorry to lose, I’m sure.’
I toyed with my cup. ‘Something spooked him.’
‘The influence of the foreign nobles? Rassa? Though he openly scorned Vigrante.’
‘Rassa acts on his father’s encouragement.’
Much to my relief, Matthias put the coffeepot back on the table. ‘Would Farezi want to try and reclaim its empire?’
‘If they do, Edar has always been the weakest. It makes sense to follow the old conquering pattern.’
Matthias’s eyes flashed. ‘Not with you on the throne.’
Pretty, loyal words, but not encouraging when I had to make the decisions.
‘What did you tell Vigrante?’ he asked.
‘I’d think about it.’
Matthias raised an eyebrow.
‘It was Vigrante’s first decent overture since I became Queen. I could hardly throw it back in his face.’ I ignored Matthias’s eyeroll. ‘What if’ – I remembered how Vigrante had referenced Farezi during our conversation – ‘what if Vigrante fooled us all? What if he so desperately wanted me gone that he reached out to Rassa, unaware of Farezi’s true intentions? And if Rassa realised Vigrante suspected something... would he have had him killed?’
‘Possibly,’ Matthias said, after a moment, ‘though we need proof. Rassa surely knew there was no shortage of people to blame the murder on. Vigrante was a good political spider, planting threads on his allies and enemies. Now he’s dead, what happens in the next few days should be interesting.’
Some fortunes would suddenly dry up. Some nobles would find themselves abruptly out of favour. Engagements would crumble. What sticky thread had Vigrante attached to me? It’d be easier to paint a target on myself and let Parliament take aim.
And we’d have to pay close attention to Hazell. The thread of loyalty between him and Vigrante had snapped, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other threads leading to other secrets.
‘Xania should be here,’ Matthias said.
‘I sent her back to her family.’
‘Lady Bayonn’s no fool. If she knows Xania was gone last night, she’ll get the truth out of her.’
‘I told Xania she should tell her family.’
Matthias’s eyes widened.
‘Not about being Whispers,’ I hastily added. ‘About being with me.’
More surprise, swiftly hidden, before he asked, ‘Are you telling your own mother?’
I grimaced. ‘I need to calm the Court and Parliament first.’
‘Better your mother hears it from you instead of the gossips.’
‘She’ll destroy me.’ I was throwing away her years of work.
‘I’ll try not to smile while she does.’
I shook my head. ‘Court and Parliament first.’ I’d have to act swiftly. If they suspected I was floundering because of Vigrante’s murder, they’d turn on me. Words wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to make overtures.
‘They will panic,’ Matthias said. ‘No one in Court has died so brutally in years. You must reassure them.’
Panic buzzed at my temples. If this had happened to Vigrante, he would have threatened and cajoled to stop his authority from collapsing.
Perhaps it was time to adopt his methods.
This was probably what Vigrante would have done on Uncle’s behalf. I’d sworn never to be like Uncle. But I was the last of my line, and I had a legacy to uphold.
‘You know what Parliament wants and fears. I need you to make promises. Vigrante’s death is a tragedy’ – Matthias’s eyebrows shot up – ‘but we can’t discover the truth if we give in to fear and anger. They must stay strong. They must remain calm.’
‘Strong and calm with their loyalty bought.’
‘Their loyalty bought for long enough so I can think.’
Matthias pressed his lips together. After a few moments, he rose. ‘Very well.’
He turned on his heel and left. I understood his anger. This wasn’t me. It wasn’t the sort of Queen he’d helped bring to power. But if using Vigrante’s methods kept everything I’d worked for from crumbling between my fingers, I’d do it.
I couldn’t think about Xania.
I couldn’t think about Brenna lying cold and still.
I wrapped my hands around the coffeepot.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
When I threw it against the wall, I only felt shame as murky as the liquid dripping down the wall.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Xania
When I turned into the hall leading to our rooms, Mama and Zola were just ahead. I couldn’t hear them clearly, but their tight postures were warning enough. Zola saw me first. Relief burst through her worry.
Mama whirled around. ‘Where have you been?’ She frowned. ‘You’re wearing yesterday’s dress.’
My stomach twisted.
Lord Martain opened the door and peered out. ‘Perhaps you should all come inside?’
Mama rounded on Zola, who attempted a weak smile.
‘Move, both of you,’ Mama said.
I sat beside Zola. We exchanged resigned looks.
Mama faced us in a chair beside Lord Martain. ‘Where were you?’
‘With the Queen.’ There was no point denying it. Yesterday’s clothes would soon explain themselves.
Lord Martain voiced his suspicions first. ‘For how long?’
‘Since yesterday evening.’
‘The Queen so desperately needed entertainment that you couldn’t leave?’ In other circumstances, I would have laughed at Mama’s outrage.
‘Not precisely.’
Zola squeezed my hand.
‘It wasn’t for the Queen’s entertainment.’
Mama’s eyes widened, as she reassessed my clumsily redone hair and rumpled demeanour.
‘It was for Her Majesty’s… pleasure, I suppose.’
Mama closed her eyes, as if she couldn’t bear to hear more.
‘O
nly hers?’ Lord Martain’s voice was mild. I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.
‘Ours,’ I admitted in a small voice. ‘Our pleasure.’
Zola’s grip threatened to bruise my hand.
‘Ah.’ Lord Martain ran a hand over his mouth and chin.
Mama pressed her hands over her eyes and took deep breaths.
After several moments, I ventured, ‘Mama…’
‘I’m despairing,’ she snapped. ‘Give me a moment.’
Zola’s face reflected my misery.
‘I thought you valued your chances of a good marriage,’ Mama said.
I hadn’t thought about that before now. With Lord Martain’s help, Mama hoped I might marry into a higher Fifth Step family. Being with Lia complicated that. If I was already involved with the most powerful person in Edar, no Step marriage could compare, and suitors would have to contend with my having the Queen’s public and private favour.
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Throwing away your chance at a good marriage to be the Queen’s amusement–’
‘I’m not her dalliance!’ I’m her Whispers. I’m the person she holds in the dark as she tells her secrets. I’m far more than just someone in her bed.
‘What, she plans to marry you? Don’t be ridiculous, Xania. You’re her uncomplicated distraction.’
As if an uncomplicated distraction calculated murder for Lia, managed her spy network, discussed how to manipulate Parliament and the Court. An uncomplicated distraction who made the Queen whimper from a kiss, dig her hands into my back to pull me closer. One didn’t cede control or emotions to an uncomplicated distraction.
‘I…’ Zola coughed. ‘That’s not true.’ She quailed under Mama’s glare, but said, ‘The way Her Majesty looks at Xania…’ She thankfully didn’t mention how I looked at Lia. Admitting I acted like a lovestruck girl would accomplish nothing.
Lord Martain snorted. ‘You think monarchs are beyond desire? Her Majesty can look at Xania all she wants. It doesn’t mean she’ll give her the respect she deserves. Or protect her.’
Zola and I hadn’t expected Lord Martain to like or love us. But now he leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, his mouth pressed thin. Perhaps his love had developed in time, and we had been unable – or unwilling – to see because it didn’t resemble Papa’s love.
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