Innocent Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 2)

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Innocent Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 2) Page 20

by R. J. Vickers


  “I don’t know,” I said weakly.

  “I thought you said you would deal with it.” She held out her hands, and I let her pull me to my feet. No blood had stained my gown, but I wanted to burn it nonetheless. “You need to pull yourself together. If your eyes are puffy tomorrow, people are going to ask questions.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Just past midnight. You’ll have plenty of time to sleep once we get this cleaned up.”

  “How do you do it?” I asked. “How do you stay sane?”

  Mellicante shook her head. “I’m not an assassin, you know. I’ve only ever killed in self-defense. It’s always like this the first time. No matter how much they deserve it, you can’t walk away unchanged. You have to learn to close it away, or the guilt will hollow you out.”

  Nodding, I rubbed my eyes on my sleeve. They were tender and puffy, and I could feel the hardened tracks where tears had dried on my cheeks. Empty though it was, my stomach still roiled.

  “Come on,” Mellicante said. “Let’s do this now, before the body stiffens up.” She bent to retrieve my discarded dagger, still wet with blood. Wiping it on his sleeve, she handed it to me with a questioning look. It was almost a test—can you accept your guilt and move on, or will it drown you?

  I took the dagger.

  Together we lifted Wistin into the open trunk, curling his legs so he fit snugly and securing the padlock once he was safely closed within. I prayed this would be the last time Mellicante and I had to dispose of a dead body together. If it happened again, I might lose my grip on sanity.

  The blood was much harder to scrub from the floorboards. I should have done it immediately, but I had not been thinking straight.

  As we worked, Mellicante said, “You shouldn’t feel too sorry for him. I’ve met his type.”

  “What?”

  “Compulsive gamblers, I mean. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a problem with alcohol too—it’s part of that lifestyle—and he’s lost track of what’s real. It’s the only way people like him can keep betting away money they don’t have, even while they lose their homes and starve. They drink and have a good time and convince themselves everything is fine, until it’s not, and then they resort to insanely desperate measures to pay off their debts. He was a damn good liar, which means he’s probably had years of practice. And to have the authorities after him…they don’t chase people for petty debts. He must’ve stolen from someone powerful.”

  I sniffed. It did help, thinking of him as a criminal rather than a victim, but I didn’t want to think about Wistin at all right now. Not while his body was still cooling in this very room.

  Eventually we gave up on scrubbing away the last of the bloodstains, hoping no one would examine the floor too closely. I would arrange for my guards to move the trunk into the tunnels tomorrow, and no one would search for Wistin, because they hadn’t known he was here in the first place.

  * * *

  My dreams that night were filled with blood and suffocating smoke, and twice I bolted upright, sweating and staring around wildly, convinced a dead body lay beside me. It took several minutes for the haze to clear from my vision so I could see the bed was empty.

  I felt like a disembodied spirit drifting through the Cheltish wing the next day. My mouth smiled when I commanded it to, and my feet moved where they were bade, but I watched myself as if from a distance; that person was not me. I was a murderer, a criminal masquerading as a queen, and everyone would surely see the evil festering within me before long.

  Only Mellicante looked at me differently, examining me sideways when she thought no one else was watching.

  “Are you all right?” she asked gently when she joined me for lunch. The sharp angles of her face and the strong arc of her nose had given her a harsh appearance at first glance, but now I saw nothing but kindness and strength in Mellicante’s features.

  “No,” I said with a weak smile, “but I’ll find a way to manage. I have to.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, Mother sought me out in the study, expression grim. I immediately braced myself for accusations.

  “You need to take action,” she said sharply. “Rioting has broken out in the city again, and people are still calling for you to stand on trial. You must make an announcement before the city.”

  “An announcement of what?” Though I was relieved she did not suspect me of anything, I did not have the strength to deal with riots and accusations today.

  “Of your intentions. Will you agree to the trial? Or will you dismiss their accusations as unfounded? Oh, and Kalleah, I heard from your father.”

  I sat up straighter. “Does he have news from Larkhaven?”

  Mother handed me the letter, which I unfolded on the desk. The handwriting was familiar, yet clumsier than usual, as though my father had written in a great hurry.

  Ammeline—

  Larkhaven is lost. None will speak to me, and the governor has not been seen in quarters. I do not know what has transpired here, only that we can no longer count on our port city for trade or military strength.

  The governor’s manor is heavily guarded, and it is here I will venture next. He once listened to sense; I hope I can persuade him to reconsider his position. If I do not return in a span’s time, do not waste time trying to free me. Only a full military assault would prove effective, so our greatest priority should instead be securing trade with King’s Port.

  I will send word if I learn any further details about the situation here. Tell Kalleah I wish her well. She has done the best she can, and the Great Southern Road should alleviate the economic strife if we can push for fast work.

  Yours sincerely,

  Baltheor

  Larkhaven lost…I had expected it, but it was still a blow to see confirmation of my fears scrawled in my father’s familiar hand.

  “This means it is more important than ever for you to consolidate your hold over Baylore,” Mother said. “If we want to send more building crews and hasten work on the Great Southern Road, you need your subjects to listen to you. If this rioting doesn’t stop soon, workers might disobey your commands outright, and work on the trade route could come to a standstill.”

  “I know,” I said. “But how am I supposed to stop them? If I tell them I refuse to stand on trial, they’ll be angrier than ever.”

  “You need to persuade them it was a folly to sign that petition in the first place. Convince them it was they who made a mistake, and perhaps their tempers will cool enough to see reason.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Mother,” I said, massaging my aching temples. “We’ve long since passed the point when they would listen to logic.”

  “You cannot give up! Trade is already suffering—if the riots do not stop and our merchants cannot reach Larkhaven, we will see full economic collapse before the end of summer. Thousands will go hungry, and the streets will fill with beggars who can no longer afford their homes.”

  “I know,” I said dully. “I’ll make a speech. Just don’t expect any miracles.”

  * * *

  Before I spoke before my subjects, I summoned the holden monarchs to the chamber of law for an impromptu consultation. I needed to know where they stood on this—whether they intended to support me or undermine me.

  I brought the petition with me, the paper wrinkling beneath my tight grip. After last night—with Wistin’s body still crammed in the chest at the foot of my old bed—I no longer felt like a queen approaching her peers. I was no more than a child expecting to be chastised.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Dennoric asked as soon as he arrived.

  Pollard and Ellarie were already seated, and Pollard said, “I presume Queen Kalleah hopes to consult with us on the matter of the riots.”

  I nodded gratefully. Though he rarely voted for my proposals, Pollard was always a voice of reason.

  Morrisse was last to arrive, and I waited for him to take a seat, expression hostile, before speaking again.

 
; “I’m sure you have all heard about this.” I held up the petition with its ten thousand signatures. “The people of Baylore have called for me to stand on trial, and I need to respond. I hoped to know your stance on the matter beforehand. This isn’t just a blow against me—it’s an attempt to destabilize our monarchy as a whole. Any ruler who took over from me would have the same threat to contend with, the threat of being forced to comply with the Truthbringers’ demands or risk being charged with unfounded accusations.”

  “I would hardly call those unfounded,” Dennoric said. “It is illegal for the forbidden races to reside in Baylore. And you have been sheltering a murderer.”

  “Ornan is no murderer,” I said coldly. “He never hurt anyone. He has been framed just as I have.”

  “This discussion is not productive,” Pollard said. “The question is, do we as a government pull together and stand behind Queen Kalleah, or do we allow the Truthbringers to force her hand?”

  “This country would be much better off with the Truthbringers in charge,” Dennoric said. “I can’t wait for the day Queen Kalleah stands on trial for her crimes.” He looked so satisfied with himself, a smug smile twisting his mouth. I wanted to strangle him.

  “I disagree,” Ellarie said, surprising me. “They would harm my son for no reason other than his power. Our royal lines are rife with magical ancestry. If we allow the Truthbringers to turn our populace more firmly against the magic races, we will be next in the line of fire.”

  “I thought you had disowned your son,” I said. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with him.”

  Ellarie gave me a haughty look. “I’ve since reconsidered my stance. It seems he would be in danger whether or not he worked for you.”

  I turned to Morrisse, forcing myself to meet his hard gaze. He held my eyes, and his expression looked more defensive than hostile. He had opened himself up to me, and I had proved myself false. “What do you think, Morrisse?” I asked softly.

  “Perhaps it’s for the best if you step down,” he said. “Prince Leoth can take your place, as he should have done in the first place. No one trusts you, and rightly so. We would be safer with Leoth in power.”

  “But how long before the Truthbringers and the mob start questioning my successor? If I’m as evil as they claim I am, how was I allowed to take the throne in the first place? Only a broken system would have allowed for it. Yes, I could step aside, but who would they target next? The Truthbringers are out for blood, and they will not stop at my downfall.”

  “They won’t question Prince Leoth,” Morrisse said. “He has promised to give them free rein to act as they see fit.”

  “And is that something you want to see? Don’t you remember what they were saying in public, before we forced them into hiding? They were urging our citizens to turn against all magic races. They think magic is inherently evil—it’s not just the forbidden races they want crushed. Itrea would be a very different place with the Truthbringers in power.”

  Morrisse did not reply.

  “I think you are right not to stand on trial,” Pollard said. “As long as our government is under direct threat, I will stand behind you, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “As will I,” Ellarie said tightly.

  “I can’t believe this!” Dennoric surged to his feet. “You’ve all fallen under her spell. I want no part in your scheming. When Baylore passes safely in the hands of its rightful ruler, you’ll see I was right all along.”

  He stalked from the chamber of law, his boots clicking on the polished stone.

  “I dread the day he takes the throne,” Pollard muttered, so softly I might have imagined it.

  “I appreciate your support,” I said, passing a hand over my eyes. I should be grateful my holden monarchs were finally listening to me, but everything else was spiraling out of control so quickly it might not matter.

  All three stood to leave, so I quickly said, “Morrisse, may I speak to you in private?”

  “I don’t have time, Your Majesty.”

  “That was an order.”

  He remained where he stood, hands clasped behind his back, until Ellarie and Pollard’s footsteps faded around the corner.

  “I’m so sorry, Morrisse,” I said softly, meeting his hard stare. “I know I’m not a good person, but I really am trying to do what’s best for Itrea. I truly do admire you deeply. You’re a kind man, and an honest one, and that’s such a rare thing in this palace.”

  He pushed his long, frizzy curls out of his face. “You don’t have to be this way, Kalleah. You don’t have to manipulate people to get your way. I was ready to give you a chance—until I learned you had been deceiving us all along, hiding a murderer in the palace. Ornan, right? Was he your lover as well?”

  “He’s not a murderer, and I have no personal attachment to him. I merely saved him from a gruesome death at the hands of those who feared him. Is that such a terrible thing?”

  Morrisse did not answer.

  “I hate the fact that I’ve been put in this position. The Truthbringers are forcing me into a corner, and my options are limited. But we need to keep our most vulnerable citizens safe. I can’t abandon them.”

  “I know.” Morrisse turned abruptly and stalked away.

  * * *

  When I emerged onto the palace steps to make my announcement, the crowd outside jeered and shouted insults. Broken glass littered the main square, and several small fires smoldered on the cobblestones.

  A page announced my arrival with a trumpet blast, but it did nothing to quiet the crowd. Instead I took a deep breath and shouted, “The crown dismisses your allegations as groundless, and will not stand on trial over such false claims.”

  The roar grew louder than ever, and one drunkard hurled a bottle through the palace gates, where it shattered at the foot of the stairs.

  “The violence and unrest you have witnessed lately are not the work of your government. They are the Truthbringers’ doing. Do not mistake us for criminals when we strive only to keep you safe.”

  My words were lost in the uproar; I could hardly hear myself speaking. There was no point continuing. Shaking my head, I retreated.

  * * *

  “You need to find a way to strike directly at the Truthbringers,” Deance said the next day. I was sharing tea with her, Baridya, Cal, and Mellicante—a perfect cover for plotting. “No more attacking them obliquely. Thousands of civilians back them, so we need to remove the Truthbringers themselves, not their supporters.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I asked dully. “I’ve already tried everything I could think of. I’ve banned discrimination, put the city under a curfew, and tried to kick out the Truthbringers altogether. None of it has made any difference.”

  “The curfew made a difference,” Baridya said.

  “And no one’s printed anything about me since your anti-discrimination law came out,” Cal said.

  “No, no, you’re thinking about this in too straightforward a way,” Deance said. “Legal action hasn’t worked, but I’ve managed to infiltrate the Truthbringers’ meetings at least a dozen times by now. I—”

  “You can lead us right to them!” I jumped to my feet, nearly knocking over my teacup in the process. “We’ll raid their headquarters and arrest the ones who started this whole mess. The Master first.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Deance looked smug. “After putting myself in danger for spans, it would be satisfying to know I had accomplished something.”

  “You already have. I’ll give the orders now—when is the next meeting?”

  “On Daridsday, in a tavern that’s been closed for construction several months now.”

  “Perfect.” We had three days to prepare.

  I gathered Quendon and several other guards I thought I could trust in the common area, where I briefed them on what they would need to do.

  “Stake out the area ahead of time. I don’t know whether the Truthbringers have guards covering them, and I don’t
want them sending for backup. Arrest as many as you can, but target the Truthbringers first. Particularly an elderly man with white hair—a man who calls himself the Master. I think he’s the leader of this whole operation.”

  “I remember him,” Quendon said. “Didn’t he interrupt the Lord Chancellor’s announcement of new laws one Ilkayumsday?”

  “Yes. That’s him.” I hadn’t realized Quendon had been there that day—but then again, I had a bad habit of disregarding the guards who surrounded me every day. “I want to speak to him alone.”

  When the guards began to clear away, I touched Quendon’s arm. “Can you help me with something? I need a chest in my old tower room moved into the tunnels. It’s heavy.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty. Consider it done.”

  Only after my guards cleared off did I notice Nashella sitting in a far corner, hunched over a hoop of embroidery. She had heard every word I said.

  * * *

  Several hours before the meeting, my guards dressed in civilian garb and headed into the city so they could stake out the tavern before the Truthbringers arrived. Deance insisted on attending the meeting so her absence did not raise suspicion; I did not like it, but Quendon promised to get her to safety as soon as fighting broke out. Before she left, she showed me a concealed dagger in her boot and another strapped to her wrist like mine; it did not reassure me, as I doubted she knew how to fight.

  The Cheltish wing felt eerily empty with my entire guard force gone. I was desperate to know what took place in the city, yet I could do nothing but wait.

  To distract myself from the mounting tension, I shut myself away in the study and began working through a stack of applications for trade, farming, or business rights. Rights to begin excavations on a new mine near New Savair. Rights to divide a deceased lord’s land among his renters. Rights to keep a small flock of chickens in Baylore. It was tedious, dull work, but it did not require too much thought.

 

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