Adaire caught her appreciative gaze and smirked. The smirk was there one moment and gone the next. Adaire was professional again, standing by her side like a lieutenant awaiting orders. Marianna sighed and return her gaze to the show, where the protagonist had recovered from his wound and met the love of his life. The woman telling the story depicted in the projected pictures had a droning, tedious voice.
Marianna caressed the cool hand which now rested on her shoulder. “Adaire. Have the narrator thrown out after this show. Her voice bores me terribly.”
“As you wish, my Queen.”
Marianna turned her head to the other side. “High Captain Nordhall. What do you think of the narrator’s voice?”
The man took one loud step forwards. “I think she can hear you and that you have ruined her day, yes? Other than that, I find her performance adequate, but not stirring.”
Marianna grit her teeth at his chastising. As if it mattered if the wretched narrator heard her. “I see. What are your thoughts of the show in general? Does it amuse you?”
“Amuse is a strong word. It passes the time. I find no ‘magic’ in it, despite the name. An oil lamp’s light being shone through painted glass to show pictures on the wall… Not real magic, yes?”
Marianna was glad he was still behind her and that the room was dark. Otherwise he would surely have taken offence at the face she was making. “Magic. It always comes down to magic with you Northmen. Your hunt for it will be your downfall. Why are Joiners Square so obsessed with magic?”
Marianna felt Adaire’s hand on her shoulder squeeze a little. A warning.
Nordhall cleared his throat. “Joiners Square, or rather, the Storsund government, does not become obsessed. That is a vice you find more in the three other continents, yes? We’re merely… what is the word… tenacious? Surviving the long winters and brief summers will do that to a people.”
Marianna rolled her eyes. “I am sure you are right. You are a very drivel-filled, oh, I mean to say, driven people. Still, you did not answer my question. Why this focus on magic?”
“We are a people of science, yes? Most new inventions come from our vast lands. However, science is not all there is. Tales of magic have always existed in our world. We all thought them bedtime stories, yes? But as our scientists find more and more things they cannot explain, we’ve come to believe that magic might exist. Either way, we want a definitive answer.”
“And you are here because you believe you can get that from me.”
He spluttered, making her laugh. They were drawing attention from the audience, but no one dared hush the Queen and the Storsund envoy.
She turned her head again, almost gifting him with her eye contact. “I hear your shock. Had you expected me not to know? Did you think you leading the conversation from magic lantern shows into real magic was clever?” Marianna cackled. “Silly ice-dweller! I am Queen Marianna Hargraves of Arclid. Part of a family line who have ruled this continent for four hundred years. I know more than you can ever imagine.”
He coughed. “Of course, your Royal Highness.”
She smiled as he used her title, something he did only when he was forced to.
“Now, answer the question before the show is over and we are once more surrounded by eavesdropping ears,” she drawled.
“Magic would bridge the gap between nature and science – offering complete power. Together, your nation and ours can have that power.”
Marianna clicked her long fingernails against the arm of her chair. “That. Did. Not. Answer. My. Question,” she said through gritted teeth.
He coughed again, sounding equally fake as before. “Pardon. What was that? It is hard to hear over the narrator and the clicking of the changing glass slides, yes?”
Adaire stepped in. “I believe you heard her, High Captain. She requests that you answer the question.”
Was that a sigh I hear coming from our blond ice-dweller?
He sniffed. “Fine. We have reason to believe that your bloodline has always known about magic but kept it secret, yes? Only using it yourselves when you absolutely had to, like during revolts and wars when your reign was challenged. At other times, we believe the Hargraves have done everything to ensure everyone thought magic was a fairy tale.”
Marianna leaned back in her chair, caressing Adaire’s hand leisurely. “Interesting little theory. When it comes to your offer to make our nations the two most powerful, I am not convinced. It seems to me that Storsund has quite enough power.”
She paused, pretending to watch the show, just to make him wait.
“Joiners Square – oh, I mean Storsund – are starting to treat other countries as supply larders, taking your fancy steamships over to raid what natural resources you want in the name of the Storsund Trading Company. Power seems to be making you gluttonous,” she concluded.
Adaire hummed. “Some even say that you are enslaving your own people in the north to work in coal mines and the forestry industry. Power seems to be making villains of your nation. My Queen is right. You do not seem to need more of it.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Your Majesty,” Nordhall said, ignoring Adaire’s addition, “do you truly wish to be the one to decide when we have had enough power and how it affects us? Do you not worry that fighting our claim of power might lead to war?”
She turned to face him, whip fast. “Are you threatening me, you moustachioed cretin?”
He bristled. “Of course not. Joiners Square do not threaten. We do, however, do whatever is in our glorious union’s best interest, yes? The possible existence of magic is a question that cannot stay unanswered.”
“Oh. It cannot? Well, we shall see about that.” The Queen turned to her aide. “We should leave, Adaire. I have matters of state to tend to. Actual business of ruling, not crazed schemes or time-wasting dreams.”
She stood to leave, and everyone shifted their gaze from the pictures on the wall to their monarch. Even the narrator paused.
High Captain Nordhall held up a hand. “Wait. I believe I was hasty. Apologies for my ill temper, Your Majesty. Naturally, you should keep your family secrets. I am a mere soldier, not versed in diplomacy, yes? I meant no offence.”
He stiffly bowed his head, and Marianna sat back down. The narrator droned on.
“If I were you, I should not make assumptions about any ‘family secrets’. However, I do accept your apology,” the Queen said.
But only because Arclid and I need Storsund and your damned Joiners Square.
She clicked her nails against the arm of the chair again. “Perhaps I would be more likely to speak of my family’s discoveries through history if Joiners Square were to demonstrate some… helpfulness.”
He took a step closer. “I’m sure something could be arranged, yes? We want to preserve the thriving relationship between our nations. Was there anything you had in mind?”
A hum of satisfaction spread through her. “As a matter of fact, I do have a favour to ask. Mind you, I make no promises that I will give Joiners Square what it wants. However, I would be more likely to do so if I knew they were my true allies.”
“I see.”
Was that a hint of curiosity in his voice? Marianna pressed on. “I have… associates in Obeha, the Western Isles, and on your charming continent. They are currently searching for someone. A traitor that I need to get hold of.” She sniffed. “It is not a matter of life or death, do not mistake me for someone desperate. I do, however, wish to find this person, a woman in her twenties, travelling with another woman of the same age.”
“Storsund is large, yes?” Nordhall said. “Much bigger than Arclid. Nevertheless, I can set my best people on finding these women. We do not tend to fail our missions. What do they look like?”
Marianna began describing in a whisper inaudible to the crowd. Elise was easy, with her striking prettiness, those unique eyes, and measurements which Marianna knew intimately. Adaire chimed in, pointing out that the witness at the docks had
mentioned Elise’s hair was shorter now.
Nessa was more of a challenge, but Marianna had peered quite closely at the woman when they played cards, trying to see what it was Elise found so attractive. All she perceived was a heap of ordinary, dull, drab, and frightfully common! Nice curves were the only saving grace for that dreadful creature who had swept in and ruined Marianna’s fun. If the farm wench was brought back with Elise… well, now, she could just as well be killed or tortured. As long as she was out of Elise’s life and Marianna’s sight for good.
Nordhall made notes in a tiny notebook before returning it to his breast pocket. When he had finished, he dragged a finger across his moustache and quietly asked, “If we do you this favour, find this Elisandrine Falk, you will be more likely to speak of magic, yes?”
Marianna batted her lashes at him. “Yes, I should be much more likely to discuss the existence or nonexistence of magic if I knew this matter was in hand.”
He clicked his heels together. “Then you will excuse me as I go order letters to be sent to Joiners Square headquarters immediately.” With that, he bowed and left.
“He should wait for me to give him permission to leave,” Marianna muttered.
Adaire shrugged. “The High Captain is a Northman, what do you expect?”
“You do have a point. So, what do you think of my clever idea? Making Joiners Square beg and do tricks for me, even fetching my toys? All just to have a conversation during which I am not obligated to tell the truth.”
Adaire did not look as amused as her queen would have liked.
Typical.
Marianna huffed out a breath and said, “All right, Adaire. Out with it, but whisper so the others do not hear.”
Adaire leaned in, as close as she could without kissing Marianna’s ear, and whispered, “This seems a big favour to waste on finding a… pet. Fates of nations are at stake here. Are you certain that your main focus should be on finding Lady Falk, my Queen?”
Marianna scoffed. “There is that jealously again, methinks. Do not dare intimate that I am not minding affairs of state. I am. That is why I am showing my control over Joiners Square. Demonstrating that if they help me with any whim I may have, I might be kind to them. I am putting myself in a position of power, instead of having them believe I need them.”
“Yes, until they notice your eagerness and uncover that it is a lover, not a traitor, you search for. Then they could use her for blackmail or bait,” Adaire whispered. “Either way, I do not think letting your biggest opponent know of your weakness is a good idea, my Queen. Nor to make the delicate relationship between Arclid and this strange organisation of theirs hang on something as trivial as revenge.”
Marianna’s good mood from her victory against Nordhall was waning, along with her patience for her aide’s negativity. “One more word against my plan, and I will make you learn to hold your tongue. Do you understand me, Adaire?”
Adaire dipped her head. “It is your prerogative and responsibility to make any decisions regarding foreign affairs.”
“Precisely. Now, keep talking. I am bored with this magic lantern show. It is about as magical as my toes. I prefer your conversation, my cherished.”
Adaire seemed to scramble for subjects for a while. Or perhaps she was weighing the ones that were safe?
“You have not said what you plan to do with Elise,” she finally settled on. “Some form of torture?”
Marianna waved off the suggestion. “Nothing so gruesome. I want her brought back to me. Then I shall keep her around until she remembers how much she used to admire me, used to worship me. I want to push on that, charm her to the fullest. Then, when she is fully infatuated, nay addicted, I intend to break her heart in the cruellest way I can, leaving her devastated and in withdrawal.” She sniggered. “Then I shall spread the rumour that she has bedding diseases and vile urges. Humiliate her and make her undesirable to other lovers. In short – make her live out her days alone, heartbroken, and without her much desired satisfaction.”
Adaire stared at her in silence for a few beats. “That seems an extreme and rather complicated punishment for leaving you, my Queen.”
“It is the punishment Elise deserves.”
“You know that you cannot make people love you.”
Marianna drilled her gaze into Adaire’s. “Do I really have to warn you again, woman? Remember. Your. Place.”
Adaire bowed her head, but when it came back up, her face kept its calm mask of disapproval. “I can only give my opinion. The final decision is, as always, yours, and I do not wish to overstep or cause offence. But I beg you, Marianna, to give this more thought, especially your dealings with Joiners Square.”
It was rare that Adaire used her first name. Their parents had made them stop that when they were no longer girls playing in pigtails but women growing curves and learning about their places in life. Marianna was the ruler of Arclid, her family had won that right four hundred years ago. Adaire was an Aldershire, and therefore the ruler’s right hand, but never her equal.
Despite all this, the fact that Adaire used her name now didn’t have the effect the aide had probably hoped for. It didn’t throw Marianna or make her soften. Instead, it made her realise how weak she would look if she surrendered now. Now, both High Captain Nordhall and Adaire would be aware of any change in her plans. She risked looking flighty and irresolute in Nordhall’s eyes and in Adaire’s… Marianna might look as if she was bending to her aide’s wishes.
Any chance of quitting the hunt evaporated. She set her jaw.
“Beg as much as you wish, Adaire. But I know what is right, what I want, and that I shall have it. I also know that your services as a lover will not be needed in the upcoming weeks. Please fetch a selection of my courtesans for me to choose from tonight.”
Adaire looked away and intoned, “As you command, my Queen.”
Chapter 15
The Frost Faire
The next day dawned, and Nessa knew that if Anja hadn’t woken her, the pain in her body would have. It was as if she had glass fragments flowing through her blood, digging into her every time she moved. Her shoulders and back were the worst. They had felt better at the hot baths last night, but now they were almost worse than when she had undergone the test.
Anja sucked in air between her teeth as Nessa stretched and winced. “Steady there, lass. I have something for the pain. Ground-up gullveig root. Tastes horrible and might make you a bit drunk. But it removes most of the pain.”
“Then I’ll gladly accept it.”
“Good. Come with me to the kitchen. Elise can start the fires. You should swallow the gullveig root powder down with coffee and porridge.”
Nessa began the procedure of dragging herself up to sitting. “Anja. Would you mind awfully if we had fried bread today instead? After Master Smedstorp’s challenge, I’m famished.”
Her hostess turned and surveyed her. A smile of surprising warmth made lines by her full lips. “Of course. We’ll have some fried bread, some winterberry jam, and even milk to go with your coffee if you’d like?”
Nessa stood, attempting not to wince and cause more pity. “Why not? Any energy is welcome.”
“I have no cow’s milk. You know how expensive that can be here. But I trust you’re used to goat’s milk by now, yes?”
Nessa nodded and smiled.
“Good. I’ll prepare the powder for you. Wake your wife and tell her to light the fires.”
Nessa obeyed and then hobbled to the washroom and after that into the kitchen. She noticed the warmth of pride still in her chest. She had procured another apprenticeship. The Queen had not won by chasing Nessa’s dream job away from her.
And you did it yourself this time. Elise didn’t arrange it for you.
There was a pride in that, too, even if Nessa would never tell Elise as much.
In the kitchen, she swallowed the foul powder which Anja had mixed into a spoonful of winterberry jam. Then she stumbled about trying to help make breakfast un
til their hostess glared at her.
“You’re in the way. Sit down and let the powder take effect. No need to try and be a hero, especially not as your ladylove isn’t even watching.”
“What am I not watching?”
Elise walked in. Like Nessa, she was wearing her long underwear and a blanket over her shoulders. Such a contrast to Anja, who was dressed and cleaned as if she had been up for hours. Her grey-streaked hair laid in perfect waves for once, and her skin had been scrubbed to a healthy glow.
She put the fried bread, butter, jam, and coffee on the table. Nessa took a bite-sized chunk of bread, blew on it until it wouldn’t scald her tongue, and chewed with happy moans. Anja looked at the table, muttering that it was a shame she had no juice. Then she groaned and said something Nessa couldn’t make out.
“Sundish curse words. She taught me those exact words yesterday when she dropped an ink pot,” Elise whispered.
Anya switched to Arclidian. “We’re out of milk.”
Nessa swallowed her bite of bread. “Never mind then. We don’t need it.”
“Nonsense. I’ll walk down the road to where old Nilsson sneaks his fat goats in to graze on the grass behind the dye works.” She buttoned her smoking jacket. “He’ll be glad to part with some extra milk for coin. Nilsson will do anything for payment. I’m convinced he reports gossip and rumours to Joiners Square for an extra silver a month.” She scowled. “Traitor. Anyway, I shan’t be a moment.”
Nessa watched her waltz out of the kitchen, grab her coat, and merrily slam the door behind her.
“Heartling?”
“Yes?” Elise replied between dainty sips of coffee. She barely grimaced at the drink these days. She’d surely never grow to love it as Nessa had, but she was trying to get used to it, if only to ward off the cold.
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