by Janeal Falor
“There you are,” Ranen says, walking into the library as if he owns the place, startling me from the book.
“I see you haven't gotten to this room yet. These chairs are horrid.” Not that I really care, it's just the first thing that comes to mind when I spot them.
“If I'd have known the Queen has a perchance for reading, I'd have covered this room sooner.”
“I'm certain you'll remedy that.”
“Yes, whatever I can do to help my Queen.” Though the words are fine, the way he says them like he not only thinks me a child but wants me out of his way leaves me feeling like pulling out my poisoned dagger. I don't even know why.
“What is it you want?”
“I just wanted to check in and see how my work is going for you. Clearly there's more room for improvement, but I'd like to think I'm making it to your liking.”
I shrug. “What work you have done is fine.”
“I thought then perhaps we could speak about a change of position. Or even having me work as the Furniture Master while I'm also assisting you in another way. You'll find I'm capable of taking a lot on. I have a lot to offer you as Head Advisor.”
“That may be, but I have no further use for you than as a Furniture Master.”
“My skills are much more suited to something else.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I know what your skills are good for.” Scheming.
He takes a step closer. Slowly, I reach for one of my daggers. All my senses are on alert, but I try to keep him from realizing it. I don't think he'll do anything to me; he's too sniveling for that. That doesn't mean he won't have someone else stab me in the back while he has my attention, though.
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough.”
He bares his teeth at me. “You don't understand who I am. What I can do to you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Of course not, Your Majesty,” he spits out. “I wouldn’t threaten you.”
“Good, because I can get rid of you any time I want.”
“You will not get rid of me. I have powerful people on my side.” His voice is low, but ominous.
I mimic his tone. “I will do what I want to do.”
“Then you will have consequences of my choosing.” As loud as he is, I expect the guards to come running in, but they don't.
I can do without them anyway. I flick the tassel of his hat. “Nothing you can do will hurt me.”
“It's dou—”
“No. Any further outburst will be settled by having you dismissed. Don't think I can't get someone else to do your job. It's easy enough and you're not even excelling at it.”
His lips thin. “Very well. If that is all, My Lady.”
“That is all.”
He gives a bow and hurries from the room. Why do I feel like the best option just then would have been to stab him?
Chapter 29
Nash enters my sitting room without knocking and slams the door behind him. “I heard you threatened Ranen.”
“Threatened? More like told him he needs to be doing his job.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why do you have to make things so hard?”
“I'm not making anything hard. It's everyone else that appears to have a problem with me.”
“You certainly are meant to be queen.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.
He sighs. “Nothing.”
“No. Really. Tell me what you mean. Inquiring minds are dying to know.”
“Fine. You want to know? I'll tell you. You seem to believe the world revolves around you.”
The words sting, but I don't let the hurt show. Instead, I find an excuse. “It does. I am the queen.”
He shakes his head. “Exactly what I mean.”
“And this is a problem?”
He sits on one of the chairs furthest from me. “No. I suppose not.”
I want to scurry over to the chair next to his, to be closer, but I won't let myself show that sort of weakness. One shouldn’t let themselves get attached to a person. Especially a person who could be gone any moment.
The thought of him being gone makes my stomach roil. I don't want him to leave me. I think back on our conversation. On anything other than him going away.
“What if I didn't want the world to revolve around me? How would things be different?”
He looks up at me, eyes wide. “Well, for starters, you would think of people besides yourself. You'd realize other people in this world have feelings and thoughts.”
“Don't I listen to your thoughts?”
“Only because it gets you what you want.”
“And what is it I want?”
He leans back into his chair. “You know, I'm not sure. I just know there's something.”
“Well, that clears things right up.”
“Hey. It's your life, not mine.” He sits up straight again. “But truthfully you should be careful with Ranen. I know you're strong, but he's cunning.”
“Are you saying I'm not cunning?”
“This what I'm talking about—you think everything revolves around you.”
“But it does on this. You're speaking of Ranen having cunning plans concerning me.”
“Which they do, but you’re comparing your wits to his, instead of worrying about him.”
“Ranen is harmless.”
Nash scowls. “You need to worry about him more.”
“Give me an example. What should I be worried about?”
He lowers his voice. “Did you know the last Queen was murdered?”
“I did.” I force out the words.
His brows wrinkle together. “How? It's not common knowledge.”
“I know more than you think.” Though less than I should. Where is this conversation going?
He leans closer. “There's speculation that Ranen was the one behind it.”
I laugh. I can't help it. That fool couldn't have anyone murdered. He's too weak to do anything.
He growls. “I wish you had a name, so I could curse it.”
That sobers me up. “You have no right.”
“And you have no right to take your life so casually. You are the queen of Valcora now. You have a responsibility to your people.”
“You think I don't know that?”
“Occasionally you remember, but you often act like you don't.”
I jump to my feet. “Do you want to have another wager over this?”
“I'm being serious.”
“So am I.”
“Fine. Let's wager. You win—I'll leave you alone about this. I win—you'll consider what I'm warning you about.”
“Fine.” I kick my shoes off.
To my surprise, Nash opens the door and says something to one of the guards. Instead of closing it like he usually does when he's finished, he leaves it open. He pulls out the low table and sets a chair on each side.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Aren't we going to fight?”
“Oh we will, but not like you're thinking.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
The next moment, Eldim walks in the door, nako set in hand. The wooden box is closed, the intricately carved pieces inside. The outside holds pegs, where the pieces fit and move around.
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “That's not what we agreed on.”
“You didn’t specify the fight. This is what I pick. A game of strategy and cunning.”
“That's not fair,” I say.
Nash turns to Eldim. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Eldim bows to me and then leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
“I'll even be a gentleman,” Nash says. “I'll let you go first.”
I grab the black pieces, though red is supposed to go first. Red is not a color I like. Nash lifts an eyebrow.
We set up our pieces strategically across our side of the board. I set mine in alternating rows, while he sets his up like a
n army. He is a guard. Maybe that makes a difference to what he chooses.
He jumps his first piece three pegs. “Your move.”
We alternate moving pieces, until I lose my first one.
“Ugh.” That's not a good sign.
The turns keep coming, and I snag a couple of his pieces. I grin, excited to have gotten one up on him.
Surprisingly, he grins back, like he hasn't a care in the world. “Ready to give in?” he asks.
“Never.”
He captures one of my pieces then. And another. And another. Next thing I know, I only have one piece left, and unless he's stupid—which he clearly is not—he will get it next turn.
I move my piece closer to his in defiance. With a small smile, he captures it.
I lost. Of course I lost.
“Now will you take me seriously about Ranen?” he asks.
I purse my lips. I don't want to concede and yet— “I suppose I have to.”
A look of satisfaction overcomes him. “Good. I don't like fighting with you. I'm sorry for the problems we've had.”
His words send a sizzle of pleasure through me. “I agree. I don't like fighting with you, either. We shouldn't do it anymore. But if I'm going to heed your advice about Ranen, I want you to do something for me.”
His gaze becomes guarded. “What's that?”
“I want to go out among the people.”
“It's not safe. People have tried to take your life in the palace. Can you imagine what would happen if they found out you were outside these walls?” He sighs. “We could bring a lot of guards, but it's still risky.”
“No guards. I'll go in disguise.” Because it feels like too long since I had fresh air. I'm as much a prisoner here as I ever was at Daros's.
“I don't like it. Something could go wrong.”
“Between you and me, I'll be fine.”
He moves to the window and stares outside. He must let me. If he doesn't, I'll sneak out myself. “Why do you want to go?” he asks.
“I want to see the people as they are.” And being their queen I can look at things in a different way. Maybe I’ll realize what I missed before, when I was in a stupor.
When Nash turns, I can't tell what he's thinking.
“We can do this,” he says. “But I have to be with you at all times, and it has to be a good disguise.”
I suppress a squeal of delight—don't know where it even came from. “Thank you. Can we go this afternoon?”
“May as well get it over with. If you go get a disguise, and I'll find a way out of the palace.”
This had better go smoothly.
Chapter 30
A disguise is easy. I convince Inkga to give me one of her day dresses and a small bit of fabric. She complies with only a faint look of confusion. She's doing well since the poison worked its way out of her system. It's like she wasn’t sick in the first place. I won't have someone’s tray be sent up in a way that could be confused with mine again, though.
Once dressed, I take the extra fabric and wrap it around my hair. Best of all, the material doesn't match the dress, making me look even more like a Poruah. The only thing to take care of now is my face. A bit of dust should do the trick, once we're out of the palace.
I pass from room to room, waiting for Nash. He hasn't changed his mind, has he? I'll be upset if he has. I was quick to change, so maybe that's all it is. Still, I wait and wait.
About mid-afternoon, I answer the door to find Nash in peasant garb—simple brown cloth trousers with a loose cotton shirt. There's string crisscrossing at the neck of the cream shirt. He has boots that come up to his knees, and a cloak, probably to hide weapons in.
“Where is Her Majes—” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m impressed with your disguise.”
“Thank you.”
He holds out a second brown cloak. “For you.”
“Thank you.” I move to grab it, but he stops me.
“Let me help you.” He grabs the cloak with both hands and whisks it around my shoulders, then ties it together in the front. “There. I wish we could do something to hide your face, but that would be more suspicious than leaving it in plain view. At least you're not familiar to the people yet, as your portrait hasn't been painted. Those who saw you were mostly Kurah class. It's doubtful they'll be out on the streets where we're going.”
“Good. Let's go.”
With a nod, Nash and I leave the room. “Afet, Wilric, come with us,” he says. “The rest of you, stay here and make certain no one enters the queen's chambers.”
The two guards follow after me, with Nash in the lead. He takes us through the palace until we reach a dead end with a potted plant on the side of an open window. After looking around, he does something to the wall. I can't tell what, but a secret door opens.
“Well done,” I say.
“There still may be some men in the passageway, but hopefully they don't recognize you.”
We get in the passageway, and Nash quickly fills the guards in on what we're doing.
“I didn't know they were coming with us,” I say.
“You need more than only my protection. They'll keep their distance but will be there in case we need help.”
I want to argue, but the longer we talk, the less time we'll have for sightseeing. “Fine.”
We follow Nash through the long, dark passageway, with only a few torches here and there to light the way. We twist and turn through a serpentine path. It feels never ending, like the rest of the palace. Who designed this place, anyway?
I'm thinking about what we're going to find. What the people will be like. I haven’t tried to care about them. They've always been obstacles in killing a target. I want to know what they're really like. I have to learn to care for them if I am their queen. No one ever cared for me, and I almost chose to end my life because of everything that happened to me. I don't want the same to happen to my people if there's something I can do to help.
When we come to another dead end, Nash pushes a stone on the wall, and it opens up behind a large bush outside the palace but still inside the walls.
There's barely room for us to go out. The branches claw at my arms, but my cloak protects me. We end up on a sunny strip of grass.
Nash strides toward the front entrance of the gate. Getting past the guards has my pulse racing. I take slow, steady breaths to try and calm it. What's the worst they can do? Realize I'm the queen? Then I can order them to let us out.
That does the trick. My heartbeat slows back to normal.
The entrance is wide enough for a wagon to come through. The portcullis is up, but guards line the way. None I recognize, but I take in their faces, trying to remember them.
“What are you doing out here, Nash?” the closest guard asks. “I haven't seen you since the queen made you Head Advisor.”
“Thought it'd be a good day to go to the market. Stretch my legs,” Nash replies.
“And who is this girl you have with you? She doesn't look familiar.”
I give him what feels like a pretty smile.
“She's a new servant girl,” Nash says. “Thought I'd take her with me and the boys.”
“You know I can’t let her back in without being vetted.”
I keep my smile pasted on. I'm tempted to play the coquette, but without knowing him better, I don't know if it would help or hinder our cause. He has to let us out. I need to see my people.
“Come on, Piru. You know me. I work for the queen herself. I have her trust. You can let us out and back in when we return.”
The guard shifts, eyeing the guards on either side of him.
“It's me,” Nash says. “I'm always loyal to the queen.”
Finally, the guard says, “If the girl’s with you three, I'll trust her. Go on, then. Have a good time.”
We pass by the guards without a problem, and then we're free. Out in the open.
Memories rush to me. That day I came here. How much despair I felt. How heavy my heart was with the grief
of my actions. It's still here, simmering under the surface, though it's not as dark.
It doesn't take long for us to reach the market. Afet and Wilric take separate directions away from us. We see everything from a very few high-nosed Kurah class to Poruah afflicted with almaca, left out on the streets. I wish there was something I could do for them, but nothing can be done once someone has caught the fateful disease. The more spots they accumulate, the faster they wither away to nothing.
Now that I'm paying attention to the people instead of myself, it's strange. There are lots of downcast gazes and very little smiling or laughing even among those without almaca.
“What's wrong with everyone?” I ask Nash.
“Lots of things. Taxes. Lack of food. The uncertainty that comes with a new ruler.”
“Aren't they used to it by now?”
He looks at me. Really looks. “Don't you know?”
I shake my head.
“Where did you come from?” His eyebrows are drawn together.
I face away from him. This would be a good time to tell him everything. He has a right to know what kind of monster I am. And yet, the words won't come. How do you tell someone you're an assassin? That you are capable of much depravity?
You don't.
“I'm unfamiliar with the people,” I say, turning back toward him.
He presses his lips together, like he's trying to stop himself from asking more.
We wander through the stalls. I wish I'd brought some gold with me. Not that I need anything, but I could support the shop owners through buying something. Give money to the hungriest-looking children.
There's food out on the stalls, but not as much as I remember. Perhaps it's because I now have an abundance of food. I'm not starving.
Only a few purchase the food. The rest look at it longingly. “Why aren't more people buying things?” I ask.
“Because of the heavy taxes. They don't have enough.” His voice holds a taint of bitterness.
“You disagree with how things are done?”
