by Janeal Falor
Afet says, “There's an attempted attack on you right now. We have to go.”
I jump to my feet, daggers drawn. I hurry after him, but my ladies-in-waiting remain in the room. Three other guards wait with their swords drawn.
“Come on,” I yell at the ladies.
They follow, faces pale. We make quite the chain, with Afet leading the way, guards surrounding me and my ladies-in-waiting trailing after.
I don't know where we're going. We head upstairs to a part of the palace I'm not as familiar with. Afet takes us through hallway after hallway until we reach a wall with armor decorating it. Afet pulls the helmet open and twists something inside it. The wall swings open to reveal a small room, barely big enough for all of us.
Afet ushers me in before entering himself. Soon, we're all crowded in—all twelve of my ladies-in-waiting, four guards, and I tucked in the corner behind everyone. The guards surround me, except for Afet, who closes the door. I think he stays beside it, but it's so dark, it's hard to tell. The only light coming in is from the lines of the secret door going back to the hallway.
“Are we safe here?” one of my ladies-in-waiting says in a shaky voice.
“We're fine.” Jem sounds more certain. “They're after the queen, anyway, not us. We need to protect her, but they won't come directly after us.”
“I should have trained you to fight.” Especially if the attackers get past my guards. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
My daggers are still out, though held close to my body, so as not to accidentally cut one of my guards.
For far too long, all is silent.
“When do we know it's safe to come out?” I ask.
No one answers.
This is ridiculous. “Are you sure anyone is even after me? There doesn't seem to be anything happening.”
“There have been riots.” Afet's voice comes from where I last saw him by the door. “Not a lot, but enough to raise concerns.” That explains the noise. “A couple of people infiltrated the castle with the intent to do you harm. Because there were more than one, I think the best course of action is to wait here a while. We don't want to go out there only to find someone else is still after you.”
“And they don't know I'm here?”
“Until now, nobody knew about this place except me,” Afet says. “At least as far as I know.”
“Which guards are here?”
“Stird here.” His voice comes from directly to my right.
“Eldim.” In front of me.
“Julina.” Somewhere close by.
At least I know them all. Being stuck in this room is stifling enough without adding unfamiliar people to the list.
And stifling it is. It's hot, air growing muggier by the minute. Flashbacks hit me of being stuck in similar circumstances, except instead of being surrounded by people in the dark, it would be glass and nails, some of which I couldn’t keep from digging into me.
If I could do that for hours on end, I can do this. No problem. My ladies-in-waiting… I can't vouch for. This is probably worse than torture for them.
“What were the crowds rioting for?” I ask.
Silence.
“What were they rioting for?” My voice is firmer this time.
“They're upset about taxes,” Afet replies with the sound of reluctance.
Taxes. The Poruah and maybe some Medi, then. The ones I should be helping but have disgraced because of Nash. I knew it was going to be this, but wanted it to be different despite the odds. “What should I do?”
“If you really want to know, Your Majesty,” Jem says, making me wish I could see her, “I think that you should stick to your promise about taxes. I know it's hard when your old Head Advisor is suffering, but you can't put one person before your people.”
Nash would say the same thing.
What have I sacrificed on his behalf?
Too much.
Nash would be disappointed in me. Let’s face it—I’m disappointed with myself. I need to fix this, though doing so means I will lose Nash. My eyes fill with tears that quickly make their way down my cheeks. I'm grateful for the dark; no one can see me falling apart. What good it does to cry, I don't know, but I can't stop it. Can't fight the daggers embedded in my heart.
It will be better, anyway. Nash won't have to endure anymore. They'll kill him, and the torture will be over. Death will betray me once again by taking Nash's life.
The tears come harder. Fierce. Torturous themselves.
It's like my eyes are bleeding.
My heart's being ripped out.
I take three steadying breaths, the same technique I always use, to deal with Daros. The tears subside, but my heart still feels as if it's been shredded.
Did the others notice my breakdown? As quiet as I tried to be, I'm certain they did. It's too small of a room for them not to, even if it's dark. Then again, maybe they thought it was a lady-in-waiting. Queens don't cry.
Except this queen does, especially if it's over Nash.
I take a deep breath and say, “Let's leave this room and go talk to the people.”
“We can't leave,” Afet says. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but someone is trying to kill you.”
“Only because of what I've done with taxes. I can fix that. Right now.”
“I must protest. We can't know that they'll stop coming after you. Things have changed so much, there's no telling that they won't change again.”
“So we're going to stay in this room for the next year?” I ask.
“Only until it's safe.” He sounds sure, but I don't buy it.
I can't.
I have to believe I can give my people better, and that they'll accept it. “We are going out, and I'm changing taxes. I'll tell them what's happened. Jem, will you arrange a meeting in the throne room?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I may be wrong, but it almost sounds like there was a note of pride in her voice. I've never known her to sound so upbeat.
“Afet, open the door.” I use a commanding tone.
But we remain in darkness.
“Afet?”
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, Jaku says your safety comes above all else. Are you certain this is what you need to do?”
“I am. You can go get more guards if you want, but I refuse to stay hidden in here.”
“Julina, will you go get more guards for me?” he asks.
“I will.”
There's a shuffle of movement, and then the hidden door opens. Julina is highlighted in the light coming in. She disappears out into the hall, the door shutting after her. I realize I'm still gripping my daggers, and I slide them back into their sheaths with a snick.
The moment I do so, the point of a blade is at my throat, and Stird says, “Don't move.”
Chapter 34
I swallow, accidentally pressing the blade harder into my throat. It doesn’t feel like blood is drawn. “What do you want?”
“What’s going on?” Afet asks.
“Everyone quiet and don’t move, or I’ll hurt the queen,” Stird says.
There’s a sharp inhale from someone.
“What? Why would you do that? Calm down,” a guard says.
“Shut up. Shut up! If any of you speaks again, I will go through with it. Queen Ryn, you will not change the taxes.” Stird’s knife presses harder into my skin.
“Fine. I won't.”
“I doubt that.” He pushes the blade deeper into my skin. It stings.
“You've never killed anyone in cold blood before, have you?” I have to keep him distracted while I go for my dagger with my left hand, the one farthest from him. Have to keep him from hearing it slip out of its sheath.
“I…” His voice shakes with that one short word. If only the door remained open, so I could see him and read him better.
“As I guessed. It's harder than you thought it'd be, isn't it?” I rest my hand on the hilt of my dagger, but I don't dare pull it out without some type of noise to block the sound.
If I could see his expression right now it would help. Know what he's thinking. Understand why he's so hesitant, so I can lean on that. Instead I'm stuck guessing.
“Leave the taxes alone.” Stird's words come out as a yell.
I keep my voice calm. Controlled. Soft. “I can leave them alone for now, but you have to give me information. Why are you doing this?”
He jams in the blade hard enough that blood trickles down my neck. My heart takes on a furious pace. My nerves are stretched taut. How am I going to get out of this?
“You won't. You'll change them, and you can't. You can't.” His voice breaks on that last word.
“Why not? What is Daros holding against you?”
The pressure against my neck is gone, and there's a clatter on the floor. My blade is out, even as I listen to Stird cry.
I've never heard a grown man bawling like this before. A thick, heavy sound, like his heart has been torn from his chest. What on all of my blades could have caused him such grief? A failed assassination attempt doesn't seem enough.
The grief isn’t enough to make me keep my dagger away from his own throat. “Don't move.”
A sob rips from him.
“Afet, would you let in some light?” I ask.
“Not until Julina gets back with more guards,” he says, but sounds uncertain.
“Someone just tried to kill me in this blasted hidden room. I think you can open the door.”
“Are you hurt, Your Majesty?” Afet asks.
“No. Just open the blasted door.”
Enough light peeks into the room to let me see Stird's crumpled face. He's in a lot of pain, and I've done nothing more than hold a blade to his throat. All my ladies-in-waiting are cramped in the other corner, the guards blocking them from us. Afet steps toward us, but I hold up a hand.
“What has you so distraught?” I ask Stird.
“My parents.” His grief crushes his words. “Daros has my parents.”
My mouth drops for him. No wonder he tried to kill me. I'm surprised he didn't go through with it. Would I have, if I was in his position? It's difficult to say since I never knew my parents, but it’s likely.
“What is he doing with your parents?” I keep my voice soft and ease up my blade, though I don’t withdraw it from his neck.
“He said I needed to make certain you went along with the demands he sent you, or he would kill my parents.”
Stird clearly cares for his parents. Is there a way to save both him and them? Not that I'll ever be able to trust him again. How many other guards could Daros or someone else get to in such a way? “Do you know where Daros is holding them?”
He nods—a shaky thing. “I've seen them every day. I demanded to, knowing what Daros is like. Wanted to make certain they weren't being hurt.”
Hope bubbles up in me. “Is Nash with them?”
“No. I haven't seen or heard where he's being kept.”
And just like that, all my hopes are smashed. I bite my lip, trying to pull myself together. This isn't about me. This is about Stird. “When are you supposed to go to them again?”
“Tonight, when I get off work.”
“Is Daros there when you meet with them?”
“No. I've never seen him. It's always one or more of his men.” His answers are sure, but his voice wobbles.
“How many men are there over your parents?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?” he asks.
I don't hesitate. “I want to help.”
“Oh, Your Majesty.” He drops to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands together before him, and I allow my blade to fall back enough that he has room. I can't be too cautious around someone with so much to lose. “Thank you. Thank you. I'd forever be in your debt if you saved them.”
Until they were captured again. “How many men are over your parents?”
“Five, Your Highness.”
I could handle them on my own as long as Daros didn't show up. I doubt Jaku or Afet would go for it, though. “Where are they held?”
“In an upper-class house near the palace, Your Majesty. I'll do anything to save them. Anything at all.”
That much is evident, except killing me since he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. “Could you get away with bringing men with you, or do they watch the outside?”
“They don't often look outside, but I can't put my parent's lives in the hands of not often.”
“So we need to sneak everyone else in while you make certain your parents are safe.” I tap my blade against my fingernails.
“There's a back way,” he says. “I think I could keep them distracted long enough for men to come in through that entrance.”
I want to go. “Afet?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Organize a group to go with Stird to rescue his parents. I believe I should go with them,” I say.
There's a long, drawn-out sigh. “Do you think that's the safest plan, Your Highness?” Afet says.
“You'd be willing to go?” Stird's voice is the calmest it's been since we started talking.
“I would like to. And Afet, I can do this without risking myself.”
“How are you going to do that? Forgive me, but no matter what you do, it won't be safe. The people need you. We can't be thrown back into the chaos of not having a ruler. Especially with Tido in charge should anything happen to you, if I may be so bold to say.”
He's right. I ache to do what I know would help. “Fine. But I want this taken care of.”
“I'll personally make certain it is, Your Majesty.”
Stird is crying again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, my lady. I will never again give into anything against you. I'll make certain I always come to you first before anyone else.”
Not sure how to respond that he’s going to be in huge trouble after we get his parents, I tell Afet, “Get Wilric. I want him joining you as soon as he can, even if he can't make it until after everything’s over.” If I can't be there, he's the next best thing.
“As soon as Julina returns, I'll make it happen.”
We sit in silence, which is horridly awkward. I keep my weapon out and pull out a second. One can never be too careful when there's a dissuaded would-be assassin sitting on the floor next to you. Not that I'm worried about him anymore since I said I’ll save his parents like he wants me to. But I do wonder who else is against me, whether by choice or by force.
Who wants to assassinate me?
I wouldn't have guessed Stird would betray me. I didn’t think he was on my side—just that he was not against me.
Time passes much too slow, but eventually Julina shows up. “I've got two dozen guards with me.”
It takes me a moment to remember why so many—she doesn't know what's going on with Stird.
Afet takes care of everything for me. “Julina, I have a special task for you.” He explains what happened and sends her off to find Wilric.
“Stird, you go with her,” I say. “Make certain you make a good plan for rescuing your parents. You'll only have one shot at this.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
Together, Julina and Stird take off.
As for me… I still want to go forward with my plan, but I wish there was some other way to save Nash and my people.
But I can't do both.
“I'm going to announce to the people that I'm returning the taxes to how they should be.”
Afet gives out orders, quickly seeing my ladies-in-waiting out and surrounding both them and me with guards. And though I keep my blades out, ready to defend myself, my thoughts are haunted by what I'm going to do.
May Nash forgive me.
Chapter 35
There's one thing I have to do before I fix the taxes—tell Nash's family. I ask my ladies-in-waiting, “Do you have any clothes I could change into that would make me less conspicuous?”
“I have something,” Benala, the oldest of my ladies-in-waiting, says.
&n
bsp; “Take me to your room.”
She leads the way. “It will be a little big on you but should suit your purpose, Your Majesty.”
“Do you have a cloak to go with it?”
“I do.”
We get to her rooms with my escorts in tow, and I hurry and change. Indeed, it requires some extra padding, but in the end, we get it to fit and add a cloak. We move out of the palace through a secret door on the side. Sadly, unless we scale the wall, where people could see us, the only way out of this mess is through the crowd of people who don't seem very happy with me. My only chance is if they don't recognize me. If they do…well, it's trouble.
I'm doing something very stupid. I don't know why I'm risking so much for Nash's mother other than because she deserves to know this from me. More than anyone else, she deserves to know.
“Do you think this is wise, my lady?” Afet whispers.
“Not at all. Let's do this.”
Looking resigned, he nods, and we head out as a group. As we get closer to the crowd, I realize my mistake. I'm dressed as a middle class woman among a bunch of guards. I don't look as if I belong with them or with the crowd. It's too late now, though. Several of the people in the crowd seem to have spotted us.
They don't pay us any attention, thank my blades. Still, my nerves are taut as we move closer to the group and toward the portcullis.
The people don't seem to care that a group of soldiers is walking by. I don't see why they should; there are many more out here than I thought there would be. Yet, when we make it through the opening with no problem, I'm immensely grateful.
We hurry down the street, which is more deserted than the last time I went this way. It's cooler than before, too, like even the weather knows something is wrong.
I hesitate outside Nash's house, not sure I want to go through with this. How do I tell a mother I'm going to do something that will lead to her son's death?
I don't.
I take a step back.
The door opens, and Slipa smiles when she sees me. “I thought I heard someone out here. Please, come in.”
I find myself following her in, wishing I had different news. That everything was different.
