Queen of Coin and Whispers

by Helen Corcoran

‘I’ll track down the assassin,’ I said. ‘You won’t have to kill anyone involved in the riot.’

  Their pitying looks were answer enough. I clenched my hands into fists. ‘They’re innocent people. Everyone outside the Steps will despise you!’

  ‘Innocent people who wanted to hurt foreign royalty and me,’ Lia said. ‘I must make an example, whether I want to or not.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I could imply one of them was also connected to Vigrante’s murder. It would satisfy the Court.’

  This was the path Vigrante would have taken.

  Matthias’s expression and body language told me not to react. For a moment, I wanted to hurt Lia. I wanted to see her flinch and crumble from pain. Maybe it was the terrible part of loving someone. Perhaps I was the only one foolish enough to tell Lia what she needed to hear when she didn’t want to.

  I’d have to warn Lariux and his family to disappear. If Lia wanted someone blamed for Vigrante’s murder, he’d be an easy target.

  ‘I think you want to execute them all,’ I said, and had the gratification – and fear – of watching her stiffen. ‘I think you’re desperate to prove yourself to your royal cousins.’

  Lia’s gaze remained steady. I was right. Whatever had happened earlier, it was to do with proving herself.

  ‘Tell us what happened,’ I said gently. ‘Matthias and I will always help.’

  Her expression shuttered again. ‘You don’t already know? That’s shocking. You act like you know more than me about being Queen.’

  ‘Fine.’ I strode to the passage entrance. ‘I’ll find the assassin. I’m still your Whispers and follow orders. But you might prefer to find a new one. I apparently lack the stomach for this, after all.’

  ‘Remember your father,’ Lia said when I stepped into the passage. ‘Remember our agreement. If you walk away, I’m under no obligation to uphold it.’

  Remember the executioner’s axe.

  I looked over my shoulder. ‘My father was murdered. He was a good man.’

  Matthias is loyal to the Princess for life. He will be useful to her with the right training, which I’ve agreed to do.

  ‘I think he’d agree with me, Your Majesty,’ I said, ‘not you.’

  It felt like a lie. I no longer thought he was a good man.

  I walked away before she could answer.

  My candles were half-gone. The spymaster was late.

  Two days ago, after walking out on Lia, I’d drafted a letter to the Farezi Shadow. I’d spent so long focused on uncovering their identity, I hadn’t considered another way to do it: by asking for their help.

  A tall, pale man with dark hair was part of a small group in Rassa’s entourage that acted more like guards than courtiers. Aloof and hostile, the other Farezi nobles disliked and feared them. He could have been too obvious for a spymaster, but I didn’t have the luxury of time or caution anymore. The letter was written in a moderately complex code. If he didn’t meet with me, I would have to contain him and the letter. If he did…

  The note had passed through several agents and palace staff, finally delivered by a Farezi servant. While awaiting a response, I stayed busy with the avalanche of conflicting reports, conjecture, and panic from my other agents in the wake of the assassination attempt. It also kept me away from Lia. Not that she had much time for me – she’d spent the last two days in crisis talks with the Farezi.

  In the aftermath of his near-death, Rassa was pushing for all possible retribution. The last meeting between him and Lia had apparently ended in a shouting match.

  A tapped pattern echoed from the wall. I stood and released the catch.

  Around the Farezi, the man moved casually, unhurried, like other courtiers. Now he entered my office like a hired killer, stealth and sharpness and cunning. In a crowd, I’d avoid him. My muscles tensed, trying to convince me to bolt.

  ‘Hello,’ I said.

  His eyes were black. He seemed amused. ‘I thought it was the secretary.’

  ‘Most people do.’ I gestured him towards my desk. I’d cleared away everything, hiding my stacks of paper and Papa’s final half-translated notebook.

  ‘Your code was excellent,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘How do you wish me to address you?’

  I’d expected Shadow, but he said, ‘Truth will suffice. I will use Whispers. Why make anything easier for the ears in the walls?’

  My skin crawled. Matthias and I still checked for people in the passages. ‘Thank you for agreeing to my request.’

  He smiled without showing teeth. I poured the first glass of wine smoothly, but my hand shook during the second. He waited for me to drink first.

  I tilted my head. ‘So you’re the reason someone ruined one of my favourite dresses with a knife.’

  He paused, his lips pressed around the glass rim.

  ‘The man knew how to enter and negotiate the passages. And you got here with little difficulty.’ My office could only be reached through the passages. It would have taken him longer to get here, since I’d just reset all the route codes, but it proved he knew about them.

  Vigrante had probably told Rassa. I didn’t know who to be more furious at: Vigrante, or Lia’s uncle for giving him the knowledge in the first place. Hypocritical, since Matthias had told me about the passages without Lia’s permission.

  Truth finally sipped his wine. ‘That was unfortunate.’

  ‘The assassination attempt in the market square,’ I said. ‘Was that your work?’

  ‘No. My concerns were ignored.’ A hint of buried rage in his voice.

  ‘Do you know the assassin’s identity?’

  ‘No.’ At my raised eyebrows, Truth said, ‘It would raise suspicions if I enquired. It is not professional.’ His own raised eyebrows implied I should have already known that.

  I hesitated. Asking this was a risk, but I had my duty and had paid for his, not that his bought loyalty would go far. ‘Can you find out?’

  He held his glass near the candles, admiring the wine. It reflected like blood over his pale face. ‘You are under orders?’

  ‘My Queen wishes to make an example.’

  ‘You understand my position.’

  ‘I believe my Queen is in danger from your employer. If I’m correct, I want your word that you’ll help us with all the knowledge and means at your disposal.’

  He went silent, long enough that my pounding heartbeat hurt.

  ‘I require a new contract,’ he finally said.

  We hashed out new terms, complete with new payments. If we went up against Rassa, I wanted Truth on my side, even only for as long as it was convenient for him.

  He eyed me thoughtfully. ‘You’re an unusual choice. Low-ranked.’

  ‘You radiate violence. I suppose you’re not usually seen in public.’

  He laughed into his glass. ‘Why do you want your Queen to spare the rioters?’

  I blinked at the subject change. ‘Even a noble can fight against a waste of innocent life.’

  ‘Of course,’ Truth said. ‘It’s merely odd a Whispers would fight to save those who threatened her Queen.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘It’s not the commoners you’re truly concerned about.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘You want to save your Queen from who she threatens to become.’

  Silence.

  ‘This meeting is finished,’ I finally said.

  He stood. The candles were guttering. ‘You should take more care. You are also watched.’ He left without a backward glance.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d just drunk wine with Vigrante’s killer.

  I pulled out Papa’s notebook and picked up a pen, trying to ignore my shaking hand.

  On my fourth attempt, I broke the cypher by using the number of strikes through certain words. The truth spilled from my pen, blotting what I’d always believed about Papa.

  The Duchess finally admitted what she’s hinted at for so long. She has a job prospect for me: the King’s M
aster of Whispers. She doesn’t trust him, or Vigrante, and wishes to have someone loyal to her in the position, for the sake of the Princess. She believes I’m suited to it.

  I didn’t realise I was crying until my tears smeared the ink.

  Papa had once been the Master of Whispers. Now, the cause of his death was all too clear. No wonder I hadn’t been able to find any clear evidence of his murder. As Whispers, he’d ensured there was nothing to find.

  And Lia’s mother had recommended him to the position.

  When I stopped crying, the candles were almost out. I walked back to my room through the passages with a fresh light, not so foolish as to ignore Truth’s warning.

  The next morning, I couldn’t face eating with Lia or Matthias. I dressed, then begged for coffee and pastries in the kitchens. After gulping them down, I pulled on a thick coat, scarf, and gloves, and trudged outside.

  There was no wind, but the chill bit through my clothing. I hurried to the winter rose gardens, brushed snow from my favourite bench, and sat with a book I’d no intention of reading. I stared at it, unwilling to go back inside.

  I’d slept, somehow, waking before dawn. My mind immediately clogged with everything I wanted to ignore: Lia, Hazell, Rassa, the riots. Truth. It was all too much, screaming for attention, and I was so tired. There was never enough time.

  And Papa. Papa. Had Mama known he was Whispers? Had she suspected? I wanted to treat this like a betrayal, twist my shock into indignation, but I was doing the exact same thing to Mama and Zola. I’d made the same choice.

  I pressed my hands against my mouth. A sob climbed up my throat. Everything I’d worked for, everything I’d wanted, felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow.

  I froze, and dropped my hands onto my lap.

  Lord Hazell broke a path through the snow. He didn’t speak or look at me, just dropped onto the bench beside mine. He stretched out his legs, folded his arms over his padded coat, still silent.

  My heart raced.

  Did he know about my suspicions? Had Patrinne betrayed me?

  The quiet deepened around us, occasionally interrupted by a plop of falling snow. Every breath I took, painful from the cold, seemed unnaturally loud.

  At last, when I was ready to leap up and go back inside, Hazell brushed at his trousers and stood. ‘Good morning, Miss Bayonn,’ he said, and returned indoors through his path of broken snow.

  His footsteps squeaked on snow, then tapped on a cleared path. A door opened and closed. I sucked in a trembling, harsh breath, then bolted from my bench and back indoors.

  I chose another entrance that led to the same large corridor, yanked off my outdoor layers and flung them into an alcove. Hazell turned a corner, just ahead of me, and I hurried after him.

  There were enough people around for me to stay close without drawing unwanted attention. Every time Hazell stopped for conversation or a quick greeting, I become enamoured of the nearest painting. I followed him through corridors, hallways, and around corners. Stairs were the trickiest, so he wouldn’t notice me in the turn.

  Another corner, and he disappeared through a set of doors. I rushed forward to catch a glimpse, unable to follow in case he saw me in the doorway –

  He strode towards a dining table where Terize waited for him, smiling.

  Three days later, I crept through the passages to Lia’s rooms. I tapped the pattern and waited for permission to enter.

  She was surrounded by books at her desk – red histories and green law tomes. She put down her pen. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Good evening, Your Majesty.’ I held out a plain leather packet. ‘The information you requested.’

  She flicked it open. As she read, she gestured for me to sit in the opposite chair, and didn’t offer me a drink.

  Truth had been circumspect and thorough. There was little chance of the assassin realising we knew his identity and fleeing.

  ‘This is impressive,’ Lia finally said.

  ‘I used the best at my disposal. Your safety is my utmost concern.’

  She smiled. ‘And Rassa’s safety?’

  I’d slide a knife through his ribs. ‘Of slightly lesser concern.’

  ‘You’ve become diplomatic.’

  ‘I have some diplomacy,’ I said, shoving away the memory of brandishing a knife at Matthias.

  Lia stiffened. ‘Of course.’

  How could we have been so close and now hurt each other so easily? Returning to safer topics, I said, ‘If you dispatch guards now, the assassin will be captured soon.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lia hid behind her cool, distant persona – how she’d acted when we first met. ‘I’ll inform Rassa when we have a confession. He can witness the death. I won’t let him make it a public affair.’

  I hesitated. ‘And the rioters?’

  ‘The ringleaders will be executed in two days.’

  It was beyond foolish to try and reason with her, but – ‘I wish you’d reconsider. Please.’

  ‘I’m not having the same argument.’ She pressed her hands against her face. ‘I can’t give Farezi the slightest means to threaten me.’

  ‘Rassa’s bluffing.’

  ‘He’s Farezi’s heir, regardless of what happens to Edar. Perhaps he simply wants to remind me he has more power.’ Lia’s mouth curled in a snarl. ‘It’ll be easier to get what he wants if I’m cowed.’

  ‘If you condemn these people, you’re doing exactly what he wants.’

  She bowed her head. ‘I’ve no choice. Rassa must believe I’m so engrossed in duty and dignity that I can’t see his net closing around me. He’ll want an example made.’

  I glanced at the law and history books, trying not to feel hurt when she closed them. Before, she would have told me her plans. How had everything crumbled so quickly between us?

  I still had to try and find a way for her to reassert her authority without killing innocent people.

  ‘I still maintain there’s a link between Hazell and Rassa, and that Hazell was involved in Vigrante’s murder.’ Seeing him with Terize had unsettled me, but I couldn’t fit her into the pattern I was struggling to make sense of.

  Lia’s eyebrows shot up.

  ‘We need a resolution to Vigrante’s death,’ I said. ‘Hazell’s guilt and death will overshadow the riot and its consequences. You’ll get what you need to keep Farezi at bay, and no one connected to the riot needs to be executed.’

  Lia’s silence stretched. Too late, I remembered she wielded quiet like a weapon.

  ‘Where is your proof?’ she finally asked. ‘I can’t condemn a courtier to death without it.’

  ‘Your word should be enough! But I can find proof. I’ll create it myself, if necessary. The Court will be relieved that the threat of murder is gone, and–’

  ‘And you’ll get what you want,’ Lia said coldly. ‘No riot executions. Vigrante’s death was denied to you, but this way you can still take him down through someone else.’

  How could she not see? Hazell and Rassa were far more important than Vigrante now, and yet she would not see. And I couldn’t tell her about Truth, or Papa being her Uncle’s Whispers. Things were so strained between us, I wasn’t sure how she’d react, or if she’d turn her fury on me.

  She wasn’t acting like the person I’d fallen for.

  ‘You are so quick to condemn my mistakes,’ Lia said, blazing with anger, as if she could sense my thoughts. ‘Neither you nor Matthias will forgive me for how I acted after Vigrante’s death – yet I must accuse Hazell of murder without proof? The Court may rejoice, but eventually they’ll wonder who else I’ll accuse to maintain control. They will turn on me.’

  My patience broke, even though I felt close to tears. ‘I need to keep you safe, and stop you from condemning innocent people.’

  ‘By condemning another man?’

  ‘He’s not innocent!’

  My voice snapped like a whip. We stared at each other in stunned silence.

  I’d worri
ed about keeping Lia alive since becoming her Whispers. It lingered at the edge of every waking moment. Falling for her, admitting my feelings, had resulted in nights spent awake, staring at the ceiling, listing all the different ways she could die and if I could stop them.

  My feelings seemed foolish now. I cared for Lia, I didn’t doubt that, but I wasn’t sure I could love who she was turning into. Maybe it was easier to avenge murder when no one looked you in the eye as a consequence of your actions.

  ‘Do you think my uncle would have let you live if he discovered you plotting against Vigrante?’ Lia’s voice was dangerously soft, her eyes locked on mine. ‘Offered you trust and a bargain? He certainly would have blackmailed you to keep you in line.’

  I shouldn’t have been surprised she threw this back in my face. She had always been so certain her path was better than her uncle’s and Vigrante’s. Now, nothing was certain.

  Except that Hazell wasn’t innocent.

  ‘There has to be something else you can do,’ I said. ‘What – what if I… sent someone –’ Truth would do it, if I paid him enough.

  Her anger drained away. ‘I have no proof of treason between Rassa and Hazell,’ she said, too gently. ‘Only speculation. If I kill Hazell, the Court will turn on me. If I kill Rassa instead of the riot leaders, Farezi will crush us.’

  ‘This will destroy you.’ My voice finally cracked.

  Her breath caught, but she said, ‘I’ll do it to save Edar.’

  Tears slid down my face. ‘I don’t think I can love the person that makes you.’ I wasn’t sure she could love the person I’d just revealed myself to be.

  The silence lasted too long. Lia’s expression had cracked with stunned anguish. She pressed a hand to her mouth.

  This wasn’t how it went in Zola’s novels. Love was always supposed to win.

  ‘Very well.’ Lia blinked furiously, as if trying to hold back tears.

  The stab of pain in my chest made me believe, for a moment, my heart could actually break. Grieving for Papa had been far worse, but this still felt like I was being ripped to shreds inside.

  I drew out several translated pages from my pocket. Papa’s entries, explaining how he’d caught the attention of Lia’s mother. How she’d eventually recommended him as the King’s new Whispers after his predecessor had died from old age. Papa had done it for the challenge, and taken the first step onto the shadowy path that would eventually kill him.