by Janeal Falor
Being alone with Nash… A tiny sigh escapes me. Luckily, no one seems to notice, or if they do, they don’t say anything.
When I get back to my rooms, a male servant I’m unfamiliar with waits for me.
“I was told to deliver this to you, Your Majesty.” He bows and hands me a note.
A hint of fear grips me at the thought of the notes I’ve received in the past, but I open it and read.
* * *
Slipa Zorris is here to see you. I have directed her to wait until you are ready. This servant can show her to the room you wish to see her in.
Faithfully yours,
Kada Pinoch
Head of Relations with the Queen
* * *
The fear leaves me as several thoughts run through my head at once. Nash’s mother? Here to see me? What does she want? Is it something to do with Nash’s behavior? And what is Kada doing? She’s never once before sent me a message like this. I suppose it’s her job, but I didn’t think she would care to be involved in such small details.
Maybe I finally won her over? Unless she has an ulterior motive.
“I would like to see Slipa Zorris in my sitting room, if you please,” I say. “And send up a tea service for her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The servant hurries off.
My mind is full of all sorts of comings and goings as I enter my sitting room. A guard already searched the space thoroughly and declared it attacker free.
I take my usual chair. What could Slipa want? Have I done something to upset her? Has Nash? Is she going to demand I release him from service and send him home? Would that be for the best? It’s difficult to say whether having duties is better for him or not. He’s been overworking himself either way.
After the tea service arrives, I don’t have to wait long before there’s a knock at my door and the servant introduces Slipa. She enters the room with grace. I have the strangest urge to run up and hug her. I don’t dare, of course. I would never risk her life in such a manner. “Please, have a seat and something to eat,” I say.
She picks a seat near mine and takes a slim biscuit. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“It is an honor, I assure you. How are your daughters?”
“Good. Getting into a little more mischief than usual, but I suppose they’re at the age for that.” The concern in her gaze belies the calmness of her tone.
“Is something upsetting you?” Something I can assist with?
She fidgets with the cuff of her sleeve. “I wanted to know… I was wondering if…”
I make my voice soft, like Inkga taught me. “What can I help you with?”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Nash. He hasn’t come home in weeks. He sends letters and money, but he hasn’t been around at all. After his rescue, I thought we would see more of him, if anything, but he doesn’t seem to want to be around us. I’m worried about him.”
As am I. “I didn’t realize he was skipping out on your visits.”
She nods.
I tap my finger on my leg. “He is working hard around here. He practices hours a day, and I made him my Head Advisor again.”
“He wrote that you had.”
I wish I had something for her, but there’s nothing. “I don’t know how to help.”
“I understand. I hoped…” She gets a far-off look in her eyes.
“Hoped what?”
“It was silly of me.”
I put the tiniest amount of force in my voice. “Hoped what?”
She sighs. “I thought, with how much you seemed to care about him when he was taken, that you’d be able to do something for him.”
Her logic doesn’t make sense. “I’m afraid I’m having as hard a time as you are.”
“What with?” Her eyebrows furrow.
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. Now I’ll make her worry more. “He’s a little different now. More focused on practicing fighting and less on helping with the government.”
“I feared there was something, though I wasn't sure what. A mother knows these things.”
The talk of mothers reminds me of my parental problems. If anyone can help me with them, that might be her. First, I need to soothe her concerns about Nash. I wish someone would soothe mine. “I will encourage him to make a visit home, but I’m not sure he’ll listen to me.”
“If he’ll listen to anyone, it’ll be you.” For the first time since she entered the room, there’s a light in her gaze. “He respects you, Your Majesty.”
He has a funny way of showing it.
“I shouldn’t take up any more of your time,” she says, rising.
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me as well.”
Her eyebrows rise a fraction as she sits back down. “I’m happy to assist however I can, Your Highness.”
How do I tell her what my problem is? I don’t know if I should, but I want advice from someone who knows what I’m talking about. “My parents have been found. They came forward a few days ago. The thing is I don’t know what to do with them. They are strangers, and…” I try to think of a way to describe what I’m feeling, but it’s hard. I’m not accustomed to sharing. “I don’t know if I should trust them.”
“That is a problem, indeed. Time will be good—give you a chance to get used to the idea of having them. No matter what happens, know that family is in the heart, not the blood. Though you have nothing to lose by giving them a chance.”
Do I have nothing to lose? Maybe she’s right. I should try to get to know them. If they make their way into my heart, I can accept them. If not… Well, I’m sure I can find Carver a mason job in another city, far from here. “I appreciate your council,” I say.
“Thank you for honoring me with your trust. I promise to keep it safe between us. Is there anything else I can assist you with, Your Majesty?”
“No. Your words were more than I hoped for. I’m glad you came today. I’ll do what I can with Nash, though he has a mind of his own.”
She gives a chuckle. “That he does.”
We give our goodbyes, and she takes her leave. Is she right? Do I have nothing to lose? I fear I do. What if they leave again, like the woman who taught me to read?
I’ll have to work past that fear, since they seem intent on staying.
Chapter 8
I wake from a dreamless sleep with only hints of the First Queen and hurry to get ready. Inkga helps, and we chat about her latest designs as she does my hair. After I’m done with breakfast, I dismiss her and think about my day.
My first priority is my country, then comes Nash, and then my parents. Since I have no meetings with the council or ladies-in-waiting until later, I can speak with Nash first. I send a servant for him and watch a couple of birds out my window.
While I wait, Jaku comes in.
“Any news of findings at the Red Lady Inn?” I ask.
“A few people spotted someone similar to who that young man described, but they don’t know where he went after that. I’m not convinced it was Daros, but if it was, the trail went cold.”
How are we ever going to find him? “Thank you for looking into this matter.”
“We’ll keep at it until we find him. I can promise you that.”
I want the words to buoy me, but if Daros doesn’t want to be found, he won’t. Nothing will stop him from that.
Jaku excuses himself, and I focus back on Nash. He’s a much more pleasant subject than Daros. What is it that has me so nervous? Is it because I have to summon him? I hope they don’t find him having a nightmare again. It can’t have been easy for him to be seen in such a state of vulnerability. Not that I think him vulnerable, but if I was in his position, that’s what would be going through my head.
A good half-hour later, he arrives to my sitting room.
“You wanted to see me?” He voice is oddly formal.
“Please, sit.” I take a seat to encourage him to do the same.
He doesn’t sit as close as I’d like, but he’s not far, either.
“I had a visit from your mother yesterday.” I wanted to speak to him earlier, but there wasn't time with all I had to do. This is the first chance I had to speak with him.
He drops his gaze. “What did she need?”
“She’s worried about you.” When he doesn’t respond, I fall to my knees in front of him so I can look into his lowered eyes. I grasp his fisted in his lap. “I’m worried about you.”
He pulls away, stands, and moves to the window with his back to me. “There’s no reason for concern.”
I want to go to him. To wrap my arms around him. But he refused me once. I won’t be put off again. “You’re so different than before you were taken. It’s to be expected that you’d have a hard time with things, but not that you’d push me or your family away. We want to help.”
He whips around, his eyes a blaze of a tormented soul. “No one can help.”
I struggle to keep my anger and sorrow down. “Don’t you think I know what you’re going through?”
“You do. Of course, you do.” He runs a hand through his short hair. “I want to face this alone. Want to fix it myself.”
“How is shutting out everyone around you going to fix it? Allow us to help.”
He scoffs. “You’re one to talk. You don’t let anyone in.”
“I let you in.”
“No. You gave me a glimpse of what’s inside of you—nothing more.”
The words sting with truth. “I’m trying.”
“And so am I.”
I take a step closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should anyway.”
“No.”
“I thought we agreed a question asked for a question answered. That we would help each other along.” I don’t know what else to say at this point. If this doesn’t work, I’m out of ideas.
He’s quiet and turns away from me. “I have no questions for you.”
“Well, make something up. I want answers from you. How are you sleeping?”
He whips around. “Look—I don’t want to talk about it, all right?”
I try to ignore the bite. “We could spar, then. We haven’t done that since you got back.”
“What? So you can beat me? I think not.” His words are bitter. Too bitter for him.
I clear my expression. “Then you can at least visit your family and do your job as my Head Advisor.”
His face softens. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt.” Much.
“You’ve closed yourself off. Of course, I hurt you.” When I don’t say anything, he continues. “I’m sorry I don’t want to fight you. I’m not ready for it yet.”
My heart melts a little. How much pain is he going through? It makes sense he doesn’t want me to beat him. He doesn’t want to feel helpless again. Useless. At least, that’s what I guess. Maybe he has some other, unfathomable reason. “It’s all right, but you should visit your family. They’re worried.”
“I know I should. But that I’m not ready to see them.”
“Do you mind telling me why not?” I brace myself for rejection.
He sighs. “I don’t want them to see how weak I am.”
Oh, Nash. “You’re anything but weak.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right, if that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
What do I say, then? I take a seat, and he follows suit. I say, “What do you think about the laws I changed?”
“You did good. They needed to be made less harsh. You found a way to do so but still get what the government required.”
His words warm me. He approves. I didn’t even have to go to him for advice. I came up with it all by myself, but still I did a good job. “I feel like it’s not enough. That I want to do more for my country. I just don’t know what that is yet.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“With your help, perhaps.”
He doesn’t respond.
The silence is awkward. Uncomfortable.
There’s a knock at the door. I’ve never been so grateful for an interruption when I’m with Nash.
He answers it, and a servant enters and bows.
“Your parents request an audience,” the servant says to me.
I glance at the clock. Duties call. I’ve spent more time with Nash than I should have. “They’ll have to wait. See if Kada can arrange a meeting time for them that won’t clash with my schedule.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The servant leaves, and Nash says, “I understand your ladies-in-waiting will be here soon.”
Drat them. I’d rather spend more time with Nash. “It is their time. Yes.”
“I’d better get going then.” He moves to leave.
I stop him by grabbing his hand, the touch tingling my skin. “Nash.”
He doesn’t turn. “Yes?”
“Please visit your mother. I can give you the afternoon off for it, if you’d like.”
“I’ll see her on my day off.” His answer is soft and will have to be enough.
“Thank you.”
He gives my hand a squeeze, lets go, and is gone.
It’s the squeeze that gives me hope things are going to be all right. But it’s a small hope.
Chapter 9
The garden is warm—almost too much—as I sit at a table outside with my parents, playing a game of nako.
“Thank you for spending time with us,” Shillian says for the third time.
“It’s no trouble.” Mostly. “I’m sorry I have such a busy schedule.”
“We understand. Don’t we, dear?”
Carver looks up from the game he and I are playing. “What?”
“Oh, never mind.” She looks at me conspiratorially. “He always gets like this when playing games. He’s very competitive.”
Carver moves a piece, and I one to counter him. “That’s not always a bad thing.”
“I suppose.” She folds her hands primly into her lap.
While I wait for him to make another move, a new thought crosses my mind. “Do I have grandparents?”
She gives a sad smile. “You did. Carver’s parents died in a fire when he was a teenager.” Though he’s sitting right there, she leans forward and whispers, “He doesn’t talk about them much.” After a quick glance at him, she sits back.
He moves his peg, saying nothing. I counter with one of my own and focus back on Shillian.
“My parents were a good sort. They were so excited when we finally got pregnant with you. My father was a wood carver, and he made you a cradle. Mother spent hours making you clothes and blankets from scraps she found. It was a trying time, but a happy one.” Her eyes grow distant.
While I wait for her to continue, Carver and I switch several turns.
When her gaze clears again, I ask, “What happened to them?”
“Sorry, dearest. Though it’s been years since it happened, I still miss them.” She pulls out a lacy handkerchief and dabs at her eyes. “When you were born, they doted on you. Your grandfather would carve toys out of sticks, and your grandmother gave you everything she could. But the famine was not kind to them. They caught Almaca.” Her voice breaks.
The only sound is birds chirping.
I want to ask her what happened, but I know. No one survives from Almaca. Why they were so driven to give me away makes more sense now, even if they made a poor choice in doing so.
Or maybe not so poor.
I’m here, after all. I didn’t die of hunger or Almaca. I may have once lived a hard life, but now I’m surrounded by luxury. I have my health and friends. Skills and no more torture. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say I’m happy. If I continued to live with them, would that be the case? There’s no way of knowing.
Carver moves his piece, and I skip a peg piece one.
“After they were gone, we felt so alone,” she says. “They were good people and took good care of us. We
loved them and missed them. That’s when Carver fell into his gambling habit.”
He stares at the nako board, chewing on a fingernail.
“But we’re here with you now, and that’s what matters.” Shillian gives me a big grin.
“I’m grateful for that,” I say.
Carver moves a piece, and the thrill of victory dims some of the longing for memories of my grandparents. That ache will always be there, though.
I move my final piece into its peg, trapping Carver’s. “I won.”
He scowls.
“He’s not very good at winning, and neither is his attitude when he loses, I’m afraid,” Shillian says.
I want to ask why he was so insistent that we play, then, but I'm working hard on not being rude. “That’s all right.”
“What would you like to do now?” she asks.
I’d rather go back to my room and talk to Inkga or Nash. Maybe have some alone time. There hasn’t been much of that lately, and it sounds divine.
“I know,” she says. “We can take a walk through the gardens. Isn’t that a grand idea, dear?”
“What?” Carver says. “Oh, yes. A walk would be nice.” But there’s still a scowl on his face.
“Only if you want to.” I almost hope he says no.
He cheers up. “Don’t mind me. Shillian is right. I have a hard time losing. Let’s go for a walk. It will clear my mind and give us a better chance to know our daughter.”
We stand and stroll through the gardens, my guards following subtly. It’s silent. Uncomfortably so. I don’t know what to talk about. What would be good for us to discuss? It’s hard to think about anything except being back in my room. And Nash.
“What was Daros like when you were growing up?” Shillian asks.
I consider telling her, but I’m sure she doesn’t want to know. What parent would want to know their child was tortured, trained hard, and forced to kill? “He was probably like you’d expect.”
She frowns, a line forming between her eyebrows. “We should never have left you with him.”
