He clenched his jaw. ‘I informed Her Highness you already have another meeting.’
My next meeting involved facing Xania’s family.
‘Your Majesty,’ Isra said, unusually grave, ‘you have no reason to humour me. But we must speak.’
I glanced at the clock. ‘Be succinct. ‘
Matthias didn’t bring refreshments, nor did I order any. Isra pulled folders stamped with the Eshvon pomegranate and Juliaane’s personal seal from a bag.
‘Has Eshvon brought danger to us?’ I asked.
‘No,’ Isra said. ‘You’ve already welcomed it.’
The first folder detailed an Eshvon noblewoman’s financials. Her family had Farezi ties, so she’d spent a summer in the Farezi Court, swapped with a cousin. While there, according to bank documents and family statements, she’d grown close to Rassa and loaned him money.
A lot of money.
‘He swindled her.’
Isra pursed her lips. I mentally reconsidered every interaction she’d had with Rassa, and could only admire her for not ruining him on the spot.
The noblewoman had eventually returned to Eshvon, penniless and disgraced. Her furious family had appealed to Juliaane and Navid. They wouldn’t openly humiliate Rassa’s parents, but Juliaanne had allowed Isra to investigate after she showed interest.
‘As the youngest, I’m the least of Mother’s worries,’ Isra said. ‘I had a lot of freedom.’
Which had likely changed after the scandal that sent her here.
And when Isra had looked at things closer –
‘No.’ I almost crumpled the papers. ‘That’s impossible.’
She’d tracked the ‘borrowed’ funds to Vigrante.
‘I’d normally insist the numbers don’t lie,’ Isra said, crossing her legs, ‘but in this particular matter, I feel they’re… bending the truth.’
‘Oh?’
While Matthias and I had only speculated that Vigrante had thrown his lot in with Rassa, here was proof, even if it raised more questions than it answered. I tried to fit everything Vigrante had championed during Uncle’s reign, and fought against during mine, around this new revelation.
‘It’s too convenient, Your Majesty, and you know it.’
And too sloppy on Rassa’s part.
‘Yet you waited until Vigrante’s death to give us this information.’
‘Would you have done differently?’ The golden autumn light warmed Isra’s skin. She sat easy in her power and privilege. ‘Were our situations reversed, you would have waited before revealing anything to my parents.’
That was why she’d befriended Vigrante. Not to gain delicate information – he was a seasoned politician, for all his faults, and would have known better – but to trace the link between him, Rassa, and the Eshvon money.
Perhaps Rassa felt it was easier to usurp me with a scandal between Vigrante and Eshvon. If so, he was far more intelligent than I’d realised. Or his father was.
This reeked of his father.
‘Has Eshvon… heard whispers about Farezi ambition?’
Isra narrowed her eyes. ‘Perhaps.’
‘If neighbouring countries are annexed, the rest will follow.’
‘Eshvon and Othayria are not weak.’ Her words swelled with false bravado. When the Second Empire fell, we’d disbanded our Empire-controlled armies in response. We’d set aside ambition and conflict to rebuild our national identities, including Farezi now that they no longer controlled an empire. Naval fleets had been carefully negotiated for those economically dependent on the sea. We settled our differences through diplomacy and trade, refusing to let a conflict grow that needed army resolution.
Our ancestors had believed this would help prevent another Empire. Naturally, ambitious nobles had tried every few generations to raise armies in their respective countries. It was how my great-grandfather had taken the throne. But the Farezi royal family had swiftly, brutally, quashed any attempts by their nobles. But if it involved regaining their former Empire?
How long had Rassa’s father planned this? How many contingencies had it involved, should plans fail or people die? Matthias would give almost anything to know it all.
‘If Edar falls, Othayria and Eshvon are not safe,’ I said. ‘We were all Empire-ruled once.’ Isra should have been worried, not hiding behind her pride. ‘What do you want in exchange for this?’
‘You’ll marry Aubrey,’ Isra said. ‘Everyone knows this. So I want to stay in Edar.’
I let my silence speak for me.
‘I can’t go home.’ Her tone was breezy, flippant, but she couldn’t hint her regret. ‘I should secure a future here.’
‘Very well. You have the joy of informing your mother.’
‘I’ll influence your arts culture,’ Isra said. ‘She’ll be thrilled.’
I flicked through the pages again. The urge to destroy Rassa boiled in my stomach.
‘I presume these are copies?’
Isra nodded. I wouldn’t have given away my only proof, either.
‘We will keep you informed.’
‘Please, allow me to assist however I can.’ She smiled. ‘And Rassa has ensured this is more than an Edaran matter.’
‘That would please us.’
Isra’s smile flashed, bright as sunlight. ‘I look forward to it, Your Majesty.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
Xania
Less than an hour before Lia met my family, I decided looking through Papa’s journals would somehow keep me calm.
When I was a child, Papa had sat at his desk, filling pages with his neat handwriting. I drowned in memories of his voice, his smile, his laughter as he chased me through the gardens before we worked together on puzzles.
I didn’t know what to expect. He’d died under suspicious circumstances, but it didn’t mean he’d known anything suspicious. It didn’t make him less dead. Maybe I was a fool for believing Vigrante had murdered him. Did it still matter now that they were both dead? Had I become Lia’s Whispers for nothing? Between her work and the Treasury, I only had a sliver of leftover time devoted to Papa’s death. I was nowhere close to proving his murder.
I closed the notebooks and wiped my eyes.
Zola poked her head around the door. ‘She’s here.’
My heart jumped into my throat, but I forced myself to look calm as I walked into the reception room. Lia sat by the fireplace, near Mama and Lord Martain. I sat beside Zola. I wanted to grip her hand, but couldn’t betray my nerves.
‘Miss Bayonn.’ Lia’s voice was calm, almost brisk, but her gaze lingered on me. ‘I hope you’re well.’
‘I’m very well, Your Majesty,’ I said.
Lord Martain blotted his face, as Mama remained silent.
Lia tugged at her lace cuffs. ‘Shall we dispense with the formalities?’
Mama’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s how little you regard my eldest daughter?’
‘I assure you, I hold Miss Bayonn in great esteem.’ Lia leaned back. ‘We both care deeply for her, Lady Harynne.’
‘Pretty words,’ Mama said. ‘Your uncle had the same flair.’
Lia’s smile turned wolfish. ‘Mine comes from my father.’
They eyed each other. Mama had dressed as befitted a Fifth Step wife: fashionable material, quality without being gauche. Lia wore cream silk and dark gold velvet trimmed in brown satin. Her sleeves shimmered with gold embroidery.
‘Xania will not serve as your distraction while you decide on a husband.’
‘Mama!’
Zola crunched my hand between hers: either a warning for me to stay calm, or because she was terrified.
‘She’s not a distraction,’ Lia said. ‘I’m hardly in the market for a mistress.’
I glared at them. ‘I shouldn’t have to say this, but I can hear you both and speak for myself!’
Lia looked briefly shamed. Mama pressed her lips together.
‘Your Majesty surely understands our hesitation,’ Lord Martain said, trying
to play peacekeeper.
‘Of course,’ Lia said. ‘Being a Queen’s favourite doesn’t guarantee safety.’
‘We are Fifth Step,’ Lord Martain said sharply, ‘not naive. Being closer to the throne could bring both danger and advantage to our family–’
‘–but Xania’s well-being is our primary concern,’ Mama finished.
It was impossible to ignore what she implied – she’d be damned if Lia treated me carelessly. I shouldn’t have worried about acting like a besotted girl. Mama had always been able to see through me.
‘Do you truly believe me so callous?’ Lia asked. ‘For all his faults, my uncle once loved my aunt. My mother still mourns my father. Even monarchs can love beyond politics and diplomacy.’
‘No one is denying your ability to love, Your Majesty,’ Mama said. ‘We’re trying to understand what you gain by loving my daughter.’
Lia looked at me apologetically, then said, ‘Forgive my bluntness: you and your daughters are Fifth Step by marriage, and you wield little political influence. On the whole, I gain little.’
I couldn’t hide my crestfallen expression.
‘But Xania is beautiful and intelligent,’ Lia continued. ‘She makes me believe I can improve Edar and the future of my people.’
Everyone looked at me. My face turned hot.
‘And if anyone tries to harm her,’ Lia added, ‘or use her against me, I will destroy them.’
Was this the kind of love girls dreamed of, emotions so strong that someone would kill for them?
Mama looked unsettled, if you knew her well, but kept her composure. ‘It will do. For now.’
‘Good.’ Lia stood. ‘Hopefully our next meeting will be more pleasant.’
Matthias had left Lady Patrinne to me. Which is how I found myself standing outside her door, braced to knock, feeling like I stood on a frozen lake about to crack.
I was Lia’s Whispers. And she was more than just my Queen.
I knocked on the door.
It opened. Patrinne grimaced at me, then stood back for me to enter. ‘Miss Bayonn. A pleasure, as always.’
When the door closed, I said, ‘Wonderful lies, as always.’
She smiled. ‘I hope you were careful coming here.’
We sat. She didn’t summon a servant for refreshment, didn’t offer me anything, but I didn’t expect it. This was not a social visit. I was following a Queen’s doomed orders, pretending that I knew where – and whom – a murder’s blood trail led to.
‘So,’ Patrinne said. ‘Matthias visited prominent members of the Steps and Parliament today. The Queen is determined to fulfil promises made by her uncle before his death. Promises she didn’t particularly care about before now. Curious.’
I stayed silent.
‘And what have you, little spider-in-training, come to offer me?’
‘I need information.’
She laughed. ‘Of course you do.’
‘Why has Lord Hazell become so interested in the Opposition?’
Patrinne’s expression sharpened. ‘You think he’s behind Vigrante’s death?’
‘No one knows anything, yet.’
She drummed her fingers against the table. ‘There were overtures of friendship made to others. There wasn’t a pattern to his choices. I assumed he was deflecting from Vigrante.’
‘So did I.’
‘I’ll look into it.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Terize doesn’t mention you much anymore.’
‘We’re not together much outside of the Treasury.’ It wasn’t Terize’s fault. Lia and I had agreed that I would pull back from the duties of her ladies and spend more time in the Treasury and as Whispers. Vigrante’s death was the opening move of a chess game I didn’t understand, and I suspected the Farezi spymaster was my opponent.
‘You’re not upholding your part of the agreement.’
‘The foreign royalty speak to her.’ This was technically true. They spoke to Terize, as they did to all the ladies, but they didn’t like her. Her lack of confidence was off-putting, and she couldn’t hide her nerves around them. Rassa hardly acknowledged her existence.
‘I don’t suppose you know who Vigrante’s successor will be?’ I asked with little hope.
‘Only Vigrante’s ministers know, and they’re not telling.’
I sighed, then stood. ‘I must go. A pleasure, as always.’ Another lie: this visit had been worthless. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from it.
Patrinne stood. ‘A piece of advice, Miss Bayonn.’ She hesitated. ‘Be careful of Rassa and the Farezi. I’ve heard he’s… noticed you.’
As warnings went, it was too little, too late.
‘Rassa has made his opinion of me perfectly clear. I’m only near him when absolutely necessary.’
‘Even so.’ Patrinne fussed with her sleeves. ‘I’ve heard troubling things from my Farezi relatives. All oblique in their letters, of course. Their King no longer hides his erratic nature. The Queen is maintaining control and appearances, but Rassa’s behaviour hasn’t helped.’
Like stealing from foreign ladies and ruining their reputations.
‘And you’re not only close to the Queen, but immune to his charms.’
‘I’m not the only one immune.’ I curtseyed, trying to soften my words, and strode to the doors.
As I was about to open them, she added, ‘Hazell enjoys Rassa’s company a great deal lately.’
I froze.
‘I’ll find out what I can,’ Patrinne said. ‘Stay cautious, Miss Bayonn.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lia
‘Her Majesty, the Queen!’
As the doors to the throne room were flung open, the crowd curtseyed and bowed.
The Government comprised of over sixty members, with forty in Opposition, voted by the Steps and merchant classes. The Head of Government appointed twelve as ministers, with corresponding Opposition shadows. When choosing a successor, the ministers usually picked from amongst themselves.
A ripple spread throughout the room. The Court parted for the approaching ministers –
And Admiral Diana of Casa High.
It felt like a cruel joke.
Diana stopped before the throne. Back straight, hands clasped, she waited for me to speak first. Calm and proper from her hair to the tips of her boots, as if she had never asked permission to steal from our neighbours.
I took deep, even breaths against the panic curdling in my stomach. Diana had held entirely opposite views to Vigrante. Something had changed on the political chessboard for her to become the new Government leader.
Matthias hadn’t approached her yesterday. I’d assumed I already had her support.
Vigrante’s second-in-command stepped forward.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said, ‘in light of Lord Vigrante’s unfortunate… demise, we have followed Parliament tradition and elected a new Head of Government.’ She took a step back and gestured at Diana. ‘We present Admiral Diana of Casa High, chosen by unanimous vote.’
Sticky political Court webs clung to me.
Calm. Calm. The crown weighed on my head, a reminder that I was the ultimate authority.
Diana curtseyed.
‘Admiral,’ I said, after an appropriate pause, ‘rise.’ She straightened. ‘Congratulations on your well-deserved appointment.’ Why did they choose you? What can you, who scorned politics for the sea, accomplish that others can’t?
‘Your Majesty honours me.’
Pretty words. Her eyes warned not to trust their beauty.
The ministers stood behind her like wolves waiting for their alpha to rip out my throat. The Court watched like carrion birds hoping for the entrails.
The silence lengthened, bordering on discomfort, until I rose. I held out my right hand, presenting my ring to her.
My grandfather had refused to stop the tradition, despite several Parliamentary attempts. My uncle had also refused, though Vigrante had surely tried persuasion. My father wouldn’t have changed this, and so nei
ther would I.
The ring reminded everyone that I served Edar. Each new Head of Government kissed it, acknowledging the reigning monarch and promising we’d work together for Edar’s prosperity.
That was the idea, anyway. Reality didn’t often resemble it.
Diana’s smile brightened her sharp features. She kissed the ring, a brush of lips gone in a moment.
Xania came into sharp relief in the crowd, looking tense beside her family.
‘Your Majesty,’ Diana said, ‘I urge you to forget any differences between you and Lord Vigrante. I am his successor only by vote.’
Careful, pleasing words.
Her expression said: You’re no longer able to refuse me so easily.
‘Such an agreement pleases us,’ I said, since I couldn’t tell her to kindly drop dead. She’d celebrate today with her wife, family, and friends. At sundown, we’d meet to discuss our political views and how to work towards common goals. Another lofty ideal that wouldn’t match reality.
Back in the antechamber, I let out a long breath, the doors to the throne room shut and secured. Vigrante couldn’t have planned this better himself. He was probably watching me, in death, laughing to the point of tears.
Diana arrived on time for our evening meeting.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ I said.
Diana bowed. She wore her decorative uniform: dark trousers and boots with a white shirt and blue waistcoat. A blue leather coat completed the ensemble, replete with her rank and achievements. ‘Your Majesty is too kind.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Admiral, this is tradition.’ I kept my voice light as I picked up the coffee pot. ‘I didn’t think politics were to your liking.’
‘They’re not, but this is necessary.’
‘Containing the chaos after Vigrante’s death?’
‘Containing you before you destroy Edar.’
I thumped the coffeepot onto the table.
She returned my stare defiantly.
‘Someone has babbled nonsense at you,’ I said. ‘And you’ve done worse – you listened. I thought we understood each other.’
Her mouth quirked. She didn’t reveal the faintest hint of nerves. ‘There’s no nonsense, only truth you won’t believe.’
Queen of Coin and Whispers Page 20
