Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Before she could speak, Anja began putting her gloves on, struggling when she used her prosthetic hand. “Now then. Proper boots and thicker coats, yes? As I said, more covering underwear will come in handy too. Ready to go?”

  With that, she strode down the platform. Nessa’s breathing calmed. Elise had once again found someone to guide them. She had to learn to trust her heartling with these things.

  Chapter 8

  The Queen at Court

  Marianna drew in deep lungfuls of the air. That overpowering scent of roses and lavender meant she was home. The rose scent came from the specially cultivated rosebushes that bloomed year-round all over court. They were bred to be purple to match the rosebush on the Hargraves crest. The lavender was her own perfume, concocted of purified alcohol, stronger than even sunberry essence, and dried lavender. She made sure it was sprayed all around court, since, unlike the Hargraves roses, the lavender refused to be cultivated to bloom year-round. She liked that about lavender. Uncompromising. Unyielding. Powerful.

  She squinted as the winter sun’s brightness reflected off her white- and pink-streaked home. It was said that the amount of sun hours in the city of Highmere was the reason the Hargraves had founded their court here. They had built this stunning castle in Centurian marble, the priciest building material on the orb, because of how it would reflect the sun.

  Marianna puffed out her chest. Highmere only grew to become Arclid’s capital because the other Noble families imitated us, building big Centurian marble houses here, making this city a gleaming pearl in the sun.

  And yet, the peasants complained about the cost of Highmere, claiming that they wanted that coin for their tawdry huts and dull crops. She sneered. They didn’t understand that it was worth some sacrifice to have such a stunning court and surrounding city.

  Especially if we are going to impress the Storsund envoy, or rather, Joiners Square envoy. Was that this week? I shall have to ask Adaire.

  Marianna strode into her castle, guards on her heels throughout every corridor and staircase until she got to her bedchamber, when they respectfully positioned themselves on either side of the door.

  She found Adaire by the desk in the chamber, her long fingers rifling through a mass of papers. Seeing to any and all paperwork was one of her duties as Queen’s Aide. Adaire was part advisor, part secretary, and full-on-lover to Marianna.

  In a fit of rare nostalgia, she remembered when she had informed Elise of that. Telling the young and newly arrived Lady Falk that Adaire came from the second oldest and most prestigious Noble family, the Aldershires. Explaining how, together with the imbecilic Macray and the high priest and priestess, Adaire formed the inner circle at court. Then, of course, the council of advisors, all over-educated people with no guts or spine. After that, the ladies in waiting; bored Noble ladies pawned off on Marianna by proud Noble parents.

  Elise. She could have been yet another of those bored and boring ladies in waiting. But it took one day before she, in a fit of rage, threw her bedsheets at a footman who had been insolent.

  Ah, memories. Her mirth faded. How those memories soured when Elise left. And how she would pay.

  “Are you quite well, my Queen?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “merely fatigued from the journey.”

  “I see. I shall be with you shortly, your Highness. I need to locate this proclamation for you to sign later.”

  Adaire returned to rifling through the papers. Her Adaire. The only one who understood her. Well, to a point. Adaire was logical and calculating. She had never seen the fascination with Lady Elisandrine Falk. She could not see how Marianna could become obsessed with someone so impulsive, carefree, and emotional.

  Shame. If she had been a little more like Elise, especially between the sheets, I might not need any other lover in my life.

  Marianna could control almost everything, but she could not quench her need for drama and spark. She needed fire-starters like Elise to brighten her accountable, solemn life as regent. That was why all her concubines were impulsive, vibrant, highly sexual, and utterly… alive. Not to mention stunningly beautiful. Elise could have been one of them. Those lucky people who spent their days playing games, reading books, engaging in sports, and hunting. And their evenings in their Queen’s bed. All taking turns, or sometimes coming in packages of three or four.

  Unless it was one of the nights when Adaire shared her bed. Even a Queen needed affection and meticulous skill sometimes, and that was what Adaire provided. Both in and out of the bedchamber.

  Adaire looked up with the proclamation in her hand, the sunlight fading her eyes from midnight blue to ultramarine.

  “There. Apologies for the wait, my Queen. Such a pleasant surprise that you have returned earlier than expected. How was your sojourn down to the lowlands?”

  Marianna rolled her eyes. “My cretin of a brother is safely married and ready to produce the next heirs to the throne. Taking that pressure off of me, at least. I knew he would be good for something eventually. How have things been here?”

  “Everything has been, as my letters informed Your Grace, quiet and under control.”

  Adaire placed the proclamation back on the desk and strode towards her, quietly and gracefully. How did she move so silently? Sure, her trim figure did not put much weight on the marble floors, but she still had a woman’s ample curves and incredibly long legs, making her even taller than Marianna.

  She stood in front of her queen, close enough to touch but not taking the initiative. She knew her place. It was up to Marianna to choose if they were to touch or not, but her sudden proximity showed that Adaire was willing. The Queen’s aide could always keep her distance without any repercussions.

  Marianna watched her for a moment, savouring the cold beauty of her muted taupe skin, eyes so midnight blue they were almost black, and those pale lips. She found her heartbeat picking up. She grabbed Adaire’s neck and pulled her into a rough kiss. It was answered with fervour immediately. Adaire pushed her body against the Queen’s. Her grip on Marianna’s waist was tight.

  You would never admit it and show how weak you are for me, but I can feel how much you have missed me.

  Marianna stopped the kiss as quickly as she had instigated it. “I would order you to take your clothes off and spread your legs for me, but I am wearied after my trip and require a hot bath and a rest. After that, I want a light meal, and then… I want you.”

  A quick smile danced on Adaire’s pale lips until she supressed it.

  “As you wish, my Queen. There is the proclamation and some matters of state that need attention, but I suppose they can wait.”

  “Yes, they can,” Marianna said pointedly.

  Adaire nodded and began helping her with the laces at the back of her dress. As the tight laces opened more and more, Marianna relished in the deep breaths now possible.

  “Is there anything you wish for me to attend to while you have your bath and rest?” Adaire asked.

  A vein in Marianna’s left temple pulsated, as it always did when her temper faltered. She made her tone stern. “Yes. However, only if you can follow my command without questions or judgement.”

  Done with the laces, Adaire gently tugged the tight, heavy dress off Marianna’s shoulders and down her body. “I do as my Queen bids, you know that.”

  Her voice gave nothing away, perfectly professional as always.

  Marianna sighed. “Naturally. Still, what I require of you is… something I know you disapprove of.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Marianna said wearily, stepping out of the dress which was now bunched around her heeled boots.

  Adaire gathered up the dress. While hanging it by the door for the servants, she called over her shoulder, “Disapprove or not. If it is something you want me to take care of, I shall see to it. You must, however, explain what it is, my Queen.”

  “I know,” Marianna clipped. She lifted her chin. “I want you to send out orders to my spies on the other continents.
Tell them to put aside their usual tasks and focus all efforts on finding Elisandrine Falk.”

  Adaire turned but did not speak. Marianna continued. “Give physical descriptions of Elise and Nessa Clay along with whatever else we can pass on. The farm wench was apprenticing with a glassblower and will probably search out a new master. While Elise has no talents or ambitions, she does have a distinct Highmere accent. And manners which will stick out anywhere other than a royal court.”

  There was a weighted silence. “Your Majesty, are you certain you want your spies to devote all their time on this search? What about their examinations of the other governments?”

  Marianna found herself growling. “The game of politics can play itself out for a few weeks. The Storsund envoy is coming here soon, is he not?”

  “In four days, Your Majesty.”

  “Excellent. That is one government in hand, then. And our trade arrangement and friendly relationship with Obeha is dependable. For as long as we are of use to each other, that is. The Western Isles, well, they tend to keep to themselves. With their weak military and weaker arsenal, they are hardly a threat.”

  Adaire looked sad, or was it disappointed? Marianna couldn’t tell.

  “Pardon me for speaking plainly, my Queen. But if I do not, no one will. Broadening your search for Lady Falk increases the risk of people finding out what happened that night. Are you ready for Nobles and commoners to know that you are spending so much time and coin on a woman who has committed no crime other than spurning your brother’s hand in marriage?”

  “Adaire. This discussion is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I am no fool. I know what is at stake here. Now, obey my orders without irritating me further.”

  Adaire stiffened, but she held her gaze. “As you wish, my Queen.” She sniffed and crouched to take off her mistress’ boots.

  Marianna ground her teeth. “I want her back, Adaire. I want her to pay.”

  “With her life?” Adaire asked coolly.

  Marianna peered down at her. “What do you think?”

  Adaire tilted her head in thought, showing off her long, graceful neck. “If you wanted to kill her, you would have your spies do that and send you her head in a box. And we both know that you do not bed anyone against their will.”

  Marianna huffed. “Of course not. What sort of failure would resort to something so monstrous? Sometimes it takes some work, but in the end, my lovers all come begging for me. Like you did.” Marianna paused at a memory before adding, “I may have told Elise that I would have my other courtesans all initiate her at the same time when she came back to court, but that was only because I know that she normally enjoys that sort of thing.”

  Adaire raised her eyebrows. That sort of thing was exactly what Marianna liked too, but not what Adaire enjoyed at all.

  Was that disapproval or jealousy in those midnight blue eyes? Those intelligent eyes, how Marianna loved them. It was why her stationery, wrapping paper, and even bedding all came in that particular shade. Of course, she would never tell Adaire that. She would never give anyone that sort of power over her.

  Adaire adjusted her crouching position. “What does that leave us with? Do you want her back to torture her? To make her apologise? Grovel?”

  “Oh, much cleverer than that, my treasure. Never mind that now, I am tired and do not intend to discuss it further.”

  Adaire looked up, her thin lips squeezed so tight they made a straight line. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Marianna rolled her eyes. “I know what you are thinking. You think Elise an unhealthy obsession of mine.”

  “With all due respect, my Queen, no, you do not know. We grew up together. I was raised in this castle to be your aide, as my mother was king’s aide to your father. In all that time, you have seemed many things, but never confused. Your plans and wishes for Lady Falk seem… irrational,” Adaire stated.

  Marianna was about to argue when Adaire continued. “She has angered you, therefore you should want her punished and out of your sight. However, you also want her by your side, and there is a light on your features when you speak of her. I cannot help but wonder how much of this is about Lady Falk and how much is about your pride and need for conquest.”

  Marianna had the sudden urge to kick her foot out and push the crouching woman over. She quelled the impulse. “I think that is your jealousy speaking more than your sense, Adaire. You wish my face lit up that way when I spoke of you. Stop being ridiculous and be grateful that you are my confidant and favourite lover.”

  Adaire looked affronted.

  Marianna pointed down at her. “And no more arguments! Do as you are told and send out the orders when we are done here. Quickly and meticulously. I want everyone with any form of discretion in their bones to be out searching for that light-eyed harlot,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, my Queen. I shall see to it while you have your bath.”

  “No. Later. Now, you will give me my bath.”

  Adaire stood up, boots held in her hands. “Pardon?”

  Her confusion was understandable. Servants assisted during royal baths, not someone with the clout of a queen’s aide.

  “I do not wish to wait with bedding you. You will give me my bath and then follow me to bed and welcome me home properly. Let us put an end to our disagreement. Unless you do not want that?”

  The disapproval that had come into Adaire’s thin face faded away. The pale lips drew into a smile which made her even more attractive.

  “A splendid idea, my Queen.”

  Marianna reached out a hand to stroke Adaire’s dress-clad chest. “Good. Afterwards, you will see to the next step in my hunt for my tinderbox-maker.”

  As Marianna gripped and squeezed a firm breast, Adaire dropped the boots and moaned, “Yes, my Queen.”

  Chapter 9

  A Fawn Fretting Over Wolves

  Elise looked around as they headed for what must be Skarhult Station. The snow made everything look magical.

  She had loved snow as a child. Growing up in Silverton, on the border between Arclid’s Highlands and Midlands, she had seen plenty of it. She had played in the white drifts with her father and her cousins. Snow was fun and adventure. It was playing games until you couldn’t feel your nose or fingers anymore and adults forced you in to thaw by the fire. Eating honey cakes and drinking warm milk. The winters of snow and childish fun had ended when they moved to Highmere. Then it had been schooling with other Noble youth. Endless social gatherings. Being forced to speak to Noble ladies and gentlemen while her mother plotted what to do with a daughter who had those peculiar eyes, those odd, light eyes which did not belong on a Noble.

  Then the red pox hit and took her father. That had been their first winter in Highmere. There had been no snow, just rain and freezing winds. All she remembered from that winter was everlasting damp and everlasting grief.

  Seeing snow again was a bittersweet balm on those wounds. She breathed in and out slowly, until the breaths were no longer shaky. Then she turned to Nessa, who was scanning her surroundings, like a fawn fretting over wolves.

  My sweet Nessa. She could do with taking some deep breaths, too.

  Elise sought her eye and grinned, getting only a wan attempt at a smile back. There was nothing to calm Nessa now, nothing but time to adjust to this new place.

  Elise shivered and looked up at the cold sky. It wasn’t snowing.

  She recalled her grandmother explaining to an impatient granddaughter, “It cannot snow if it is too warm or too cold, my sweetest one. You must wait.”

  They walked into the station, following in the efficient footsteps of Anja. The station had such high ceilings. Shadows played on them, thrown by gas-lit chandeliers. The ceiling, the floors, the walls, all blindingly white, whiter than even the snow outside.

  Another recollection pricked up at the sight. Her mind seemed to use this quietness to take stock. This memory was of the white-washed walls of the White Raven in Nightport. Elise could almost sm
ell the stale alcohol, smoke, and the chemical odour of the illegal powders sold there. And… the mix of purified alcohol and lavender which was the Queen’s perfume. For a moment, she was back there that night when the Queen met Nessa. She hadn’t really thought about how close to disaster they had come.

  And now is not the time.

  She cleared her throat and asked Nessa, “Is this not completely marvellous?”

  “Yes, but so… bright.”

  Anja gave a curt nod. “Far too bright. Stupid Skarhult prides itself on its white buildings, despite the need to repaint. The smoke from the trains and the dirt carried by the snow stick to the white and then… time to paint again.”

  Without further explanation, Anja took off walking again. To her surprise, Elise found herself missing the chatty Lindberg family. They had been clingy and nosey, but at least they were good for a long talk.

  “Nessa, button your coat. We are going outside again.”

  “Look at you, being the sensible one for once,” Nessa joked. She did, however, button her coat up. As soon as her hands were free, they were on their way to their usual resting place, the pockets of her leather coat. Elise stopped the one closest to her and took it.

  “I was putting my hands in my pockets to keep them warm, but this is better,” Nessa cooed.

  “We’re going to a used clothing shop two streets away,” Anja said over her shoulder. “You’ll buy gloves, yes?”

  “She hears everything but only replies to what she wishes,” Elise whispered with laughter in her tone. “Part of her stoic style, I suppose.”

  Nessa smiled. “Stoic or grumpy?”

  Elise was about to answer but was distracted as her vision filled with the white city. She blinked at its vastness. Almost every building was three floors or higher, but not like in Nightport where they had just slapped on an extra floor when the population grew. These houses looked like their builders long ago took pride in their work, crowning their structures in the strange minty green of aged copper.