She only hoped she wouldn’t.
The fall festival was still going strong, even though it was approaching midnight. Many of the families had gone, but street children flocked everywhere, and the crowds were only a bit thinner though a lot rowdier.
Close to where the murder had taken place, the streets seemed dangerously quiet. Starbride passed near the tavern the two drunks had come from, but she walked quickly to a nicer neighborhood. The sign above her destination was a bar of gold surrounded by a stack of gold coins. Starbride sighed. And the rich wondered why the poor didn’t always think highly of them.
The guard on the door frowned as he looked at Starbride’s features. She opened her cloak enough to show her fine clothes, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. That and a look at Hugo’s finery convinced the guard to step aside, bowing as he went.
Starbride didn’t spare him a glance. Inside, music and chatter washed over her. The floor and tables were made of dark wood, highly polished. The shutters had been thrown wide open, but they’d been covered with loosely woven material that caught some of the dust from outside. Bolts of striped silk hung from the ceiling and met in the middle of the room above a giant chandelier. The chandelier wasn’t lit by common fire, oh no. Sparkling pyramids perched in its silver branches.
Starbride was almost disappointed the crowd wasn’t wilder. Though men and women gathered in the aisles as well as at the tables, the conversation wasn’t loud enough to drown out the lute-playing singer in the corner.
“Shall I secure us a table, Miss Starbride?” Hugo said. “Princess Consort, I mean.”
“If you can’t just call me Starbride, Hugo, then miss will do.” She leaned close to him. “And absolutely not Princess Consort, not tonight.”
He flushed but chuckled and started for a nearby table, no doubt to tell its occupants to make way for her. She grabbed his sleeve.
“Let’s mingle,” she said. “We’re after information.”
It had been mere hours, but gossip about the murder had spread like wildfire. Evidently, neither the Watch nor the drunk nor the crowds had been silent, but like all gossip, everything had been tainted. Of what they heard, the prince had killed the princess; the princess had killed an entire squad of the Watch; a magistrate was dead by the prince’s order, by the princess’s, by the Watch. Most disturbing of all was that whenever the Umbriels were mentioned, the crowd made a point of saying how the royals were “within their rights” to kill a member of the public. And most of the people in the crowd weren’t nobles. Some were courtiers or wannabes, all wealthy, with little or nothing to do. The Umbriels were like the spirits in their eyes.
“Whoever this man was, no doubt he deserved what he got,” one said before taking a sniff out of a perfumed silk handkerchief.
He’d been doing that all night, and the bar didn’t even smell bad. The handkerchief must have held more than just perfume. “Surely, no one deserves to be killed in the street,” Starbride said.
Silk Handkerchief blinked at her, his eyes glassy. “But you…you’re…” He clearly didn’t know what to say, probably torn by her obvious position and the humble background he thought implied by her race.
“Tensions will be running high.” Starbride raised her voice to capture the attention of everyone within earshot. “We must coexist in Marienne, however you may view your…less fortunate neighbors.” She smiled as they chuckled, some toasting what they thought was a veiled insult. Starbride let them think as they would. “The Umbriels will do what they can to smooth this matter over, and I think we must set a conciliatory example.”
Sage heads around her nodded, but some of the younger dandies and bravos laughed. “What could a bunch of peasants do?” one of them asked.
Starbride gritted her teeth.
“They could shut the city down,” Hugo said.
Everyone around them quieted and looked at Hugo as if he’d grown another head. “What in the spirits’ names are you talking about?” Silk Handkerchief asked.
“We’d have no bakers, no farmers, no butchers; no one to drive the carts, clear the roads, or tend the livestock. They could just…stop.”
Silence spread from their little bubble like a crashing wave. Even the noise from the singing lute player died down. “They…couldn’t do that,” someone in the crowd said.
Starbride shook her head. “You can’t beat a man back to work.” Hopefully, Horsestrong’s wisdom would further cut through the entitled haze. Around her, eyes peered into drinks and brows furrowed. She’d given them something to think about, all she could do at the moment.
Well, that and hurry back to the palace to practice her pyramids and wait for Katya. Crowe had been showing her how to use more destruction pyramids, and she needed to alter her clothes to carry more than one when she didn’t have her satchel. Flash bombs were all fine and well, but it was past time to make sure she had something dangerous.
Perhaps by preparing for the worst, she could somehow stave it off. Dawnmother and Crowe both would have scolded her for such thinking, but she couldn’t put it away, couldn’t put away the hope that people would prove reasonable under pressure. It didn’t matter that she suspected it wasn’t true.
Chapter Thirteen: Katya
After the shouting had died down, no one said anything for quite some time. Katya stared mostly at the floor, a tactic favored by her father when he wanted to avoid losing his temper. Her family’s pyramid necklaces had to be working overtime. Katya wished again for the warning burn of her own necklace, but she was almost happy her Fiend had gone. She feared it would have leapt forth hours ago.
Da paced up and down the carpet and gripped his coat, surely seeking a connection with the pyramid that lay underneath. Ma had blooms of color in her cheeks and forehead. She hadn’t shouted. Her voice had taken on the low, husky quality it always did when she was enraged, as if anger took her very breath away.
Reinholt stared at the wall, his shoulders pumping up and down as he seethed and refused to accept any responsibility for what he’d done. His anger over everything that had happened in the last month came out like a flood. He’d nearly screamed as he tried to be heard over their father’s yelling about duty and nobility. Katya bet his necklace was about to ignite. Maybe Crowe had given him more than one.
At a lull in the shouting, in a petulant little voice, Reinholt had said, “Vincent killed him, not me.”
Da had gone purple with rage. “He is the arm of the crown, you sulky little bastard!” He’d stepped so close that Katya thought he might beat some sense into Reinholt.
Katya wished he’d had.
Now the yelling was done. All that was left was what they could actually do about Appleton’s murder. Reinholt should have admitted what he’d done and sought forgiveness, but here was the petulant child again, the sulky little bastard, as their father said. Katya looked to her mother. Ma’s eyes darted toward the slight movement. Katya furrowed her brow, silently asking what she should do, what either of them should do.
Ma’s gaze drifted toward Reinholt and then Da. The prince had to give ground to his father the king. The queen or the second-born child could offer advice, entreaties, pleas, or accusations, but this wasn’t just a disagreement between father and son. Appleton’s murder had to be settled between the king of Farraday and his heir.
And the heir should have seen that, but Reinholt had his arms crossed, not looking at anyone. He didn’t even realize he was committing treason. In the not-too-distant past, it would have gotten him killed.
Katya’s mind raced. There had to be a way to get Reinholt to see reason without her actually pointing it out. She feared that if she gave voice to her thoughts, Da would have no choice but to put Reinholt to the sword.
Katya edged close to Reinholt. Like their mother, he looked toward the movement. Katya tried to put all the anger out of her expression and let him see her fear.
He frowned, confused. Katya wanted to yell at him to stop being a fool. If he didn’t
bow to their father’s wishes, it could mean his life. Couldn’t he see that?
A knock on the door made them jump. “We’re not to be disturbed!” Da bellowed.
Katya moved toward the door. Another knock sounded. She glanced at her father. His face incredulous, he nevertheless nodded.
Katya cracked the door open to reveal Crowe. “You know?” she whispered.
He nodded. Katya almost sighed in relief and thanked the spirits for Starbride.
“The nobles’ council is gathering,” Crowe said. “Some of them will try and use this situation to their advantage.” He glanced past her, and she knew what he wanted. Her father had to be at that meeting.
Katya shut the door. “The nobles are gathering, Da.”
He straightened his shoulders and smoothed the creases out of his dark blue brocade coat. He turned to Ma, an old sign that asked if his attire was acceptable.
She unclasped the thick gold chain from around his neck, the one he wore for official functions like opening the festival. It was far too happy a symbol.
Da turned at last to Reinholt, and in his eyes was the same sort of entreaty Katya had tried, a plea from the father for the son to obey the king.
In her mind, Katya pleaded for Reinholt to say he would go along or go in Da’s place. Charming Reinholt could find a way to both accept responsibility and remain confident in his place as crown prince. It was a tightrope, but he could walk it, if he only would.
The old Reinholt flashed in those eyes, and he stood a little straighter. His leaned forward as if on the cusp of striding in their father’s wake. Pride filled Katya once more.
Slowly, Reinholt’s hand wandered to his chest, to where his pyramid necklace rested under his coat. His gaze went pained, far away, and Katya knew he was remembering the night of the Fiends as if she could see through his skull. Katya thought he mouthed the words, “I’m tired,” but she couldn’t be sure. He turned away and stared at the wall.
Ma’s mouth opened softly. Without a word, Da strode toward the door. Katya gripped her rapier.
At the door, Da barked, “Katyarianna!”
She whirled around. “Yes, Father?”
“To me.” He flung the door open. Katya hurried to his side. Crowe waited for them in the hall and fell into step behind them.
They passed Averie, but Katya waved her off. There was nothing she could do. Katya stayed a half-step behind her father and to the side, as was her place. She had a brief worry about the injured Crowe keeping pace, but he left them when they crossed from the royal halls into the palace.
Katya cast all other thoughts aside and put her neutral face on.
She thought Da would take her into the nobles’ council with him, to stand beside his chair at the head of the room, but when they reached the door, he simply pointed for her to wait just outside.
He leaned to her ear. “Let nothing short of war disturb us.”
Katya stood where he commanded and kept hold of her rapier. The guards kept the curious from even coming down the hall, but Katya still watched the hallway carefully while keeping her ear tuned to the sounds within. If someone shouted at or threatened her father, she’d be through the door in an instant.
Hours stretched out like miles. Pain started between Katya’s shoulder blades and grew to engulf her neck and head. When Earl Lamont opened the door behind her, Katya nearly jumped, but she’d been practicing keeping her head for too long.
“Your father wants you, Highness.”
Even as long as she’d known him and as kind as he’d always been to her family, Katya let Earl Lamont step back first so she could see her father standing unmolested at the head of the table. She walked past Earl Lamont, her face set, but her stomach shrinking before the serious faces on the men and women inside the long room. All the nobles in the kingdom couldn’t be gathered on short notice, but most of those living in the palace were in attendance. As Katya looked down the table, Countess Nadia van Hale and a few others gave her a supportive nod.
Katya’s guts tightened further. Supportive of what?
When she reached her father, she fought the urge to swallow. His face was like stone. “Kneel,” he said.
Katya obeyed. The thought seized her that he was going to cut her head off. Maybe she had to take the blame for Reinholt after all.
But no, pride was in her father’s eyes. Resolve and sadness and the stoniness of kings, but satisfaction as well; she’d pleased him.
He drew the dagger from his belt and placed the flat on her right shoulder. “Katyarianna Nar Umbriel,” he said, “by the power granted me as Lord of Marienne, Foe of Yanchasa the Mighty, and King of all Farraday, I name you crown princess and task you with guarding Princess Vierdrin, future Queen of all Farraday, until the day she is old enough to accept the duties of crown princess.”
Katya couldn’t breathe. It felt as if the sea was rushing in to fill the room. Her ears pounded with the noise of it. “What?”
Her father smiled, but it had the fleetness of something imagined. He sheathed his knife, and she let him guide her to her feet.
“Should I die before Princess Vierdrin is of age,” he said, “you shall rule as princess regent and keep Farraday safe and free of strife, serving always as Yanchasa the Mighty’s greatest foe in Vierdrin’s name.”
The nobles applauded, though only a few wore smiles. Others seemed calculating or outright angry. Katya couldn’t catch her breath.
As Da guided her from the room, Katya recalled some of her more opportunistic ancestors; if her young niece had been in their care, Vierdrin would have been dead before morning.
On the way back to their rooms, Katya whispered, “Da―”
“Wait.”
Katya felt her court mask slipping. Instead of taking her back to his apartment, Da steered her down another hallway, toward Crowe’s office. He rapped sharply on the door and then entered without waiting for an answer.
“Sit, Crowe.” Da then told him of Katya’s new elevation and how it would soon be all over the palace, then the city, then the kingdom.
Crowe’s mouth snapped shut. “I see.”
Katya had been listening to the tale as if it had happened to someone else.
“You can’t lead the Order like you used to, my girl,” Da said, “though you’ll still collaborate closely with it. Crowe, you’re back in the saddle.”
Katya nodded woodenly before she said, “Wait―”
“This is the way it has to be.”
“Don’t worry,” Crowe said. “We won’t leave you out in the cold.”
Katya felt the world continue to drop away from her feet. No more Fiend, then made crown princess, and now no longer leader of the Order? “You’re not going to put Reinholt in charge of the Order are you?”
Da’s brow darkened. “Absolutely not! The lazy son of a…” He barked a laugh. “Well, I guess his mother and I are to blame.”
“Da…” Katya wanted to cry, shout, and throw the furniture around. It was like several people had died at once, all of them as close as family.
“I need to tell him now,” Da said. “Before he gets away from his mother.”
“Spirits above.” How Reinholt would hate her! She turned to Crowe. “Do you know where Starbride is?”
“We couldn’t wait for you. She’s out in some of the more well-to-do taverns, trying to discern popular opinion about what’s happened. She’s got Pennynail, Hugo, and Dawnmother with her.”
Katya’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of Starbride out in what could become madness, but Katya supposed that if she was sticking to the affluent parts of town, she should be all right. “Hugo’s first assignment.”
“With a little training, he could be a good asset,” Crowe said. “I heard his name mentioned as a candidate for membership in the Order.”
“And he is your cousin,” Da muttered. “Get some sleep, both of you. It has to be nearly dawn.”
They all bade one another farewell, and without knowing what else
to do, Katya went back to her room. Averie was already there.
“Highness,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”
Katya almost laughed. Here was one person at least who understood her. “Thank you, Averie.” Katya shut her eyes for a moment, and tiredness hit her like a brick in a sack. “All I want to do is sleep.”
Averie helped Katya out of her clothes and into her nightshirt. She plucked the pins that held Katya’s hair. Katya barely felt any of it except the wonderful feel of sliding between her crisp sheets. She thought her head had just hit the pillow when soft arms went around her. Katya’s head lifted as she tried to sort out what was going on, if it was morning already, and why she hadn’t heard the door open.
“Shh,” Starbride’s voice whispered in her ear. “It’s not yet dawn. Sleep.”
Comforted, Katya sank into sleep once more.
*
The next morning, Katya rose early despite the hour she’d gone to bed. She could almost feel the palace buzzing around her, and she couldn’t wait any longer to see what everyone was saying.
And she had to find out how Reinholt had taken the news.
Starbride sat up just as Katya finished pinning her hair up at her vanity. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Katya said.
“As if I’d let you start this day alone.” She kissed Katya briefly before they both dressed. Katya wished they had a few moments more to stay in bed and stare up at the starry sky painted on the ceiling, but the palace wouldn’t wait.
“What I learned last night was about what you’d expect,” Starbride said. “The rich are on your brother’s side. Though now, I guess they’ll be on yours.”
“The common people won’t look on murder with such forgiveness.”
“I think Hugo convinced some of the rich people to keep their mouths shut. He has a good heart and an even better head on his shoulders.”
Katya just avoided shaking her head, remembering how easily Hugo had fallen for her stories in the past. At least he was an honorable man.
For Want of a Fiend Page 10
