Janida raised an inquiring eyebrow, but gestured to Willow to follow her to the harem chamber. Once inside, she took a seat and indicated that Willow should do the same. “I imagine you have many questions,” she said.
“I do, but probably not the ones you’re anticipating.” Willow sat forward until she was on the edge of her seat. “Why exactly does Eskandel care about making Felix King of Tremontane?”
The eyebrow rose again. “You know the answer to that question,” Janida said. “Stability. Economic security. And it the right thing is.”
“That just explains why you want someone who isn’t Terence Valant,” Willow said. “It doesn’t explain why Felix should be king.”
“That Tremontanan inheritance law is. We do not make the decision.”
“Maybe you should.”
Janida’s eyes narrowed. “I do not understand.”
“What I’m saying,” Willow said, “is I don’t think Felix is suited to be King.”
The vojenta’s face turned completely neutral. “You think you suited to make that judgment are?”
“I know him better than anyone. He’s a good, gentle, kind person, and he loves animals, and he’s incredibly smart, but he lacks the qualities a King needs. Ruthlessness. Decisiveness. Strength of will. And I know he’s still got years of a regency to learn all of that, but I don’t think it’s in his character. I don’t think he’s ever going to become the kind of man who can rule a country, let alone one who can bring it out of the catastrophe it’s fallen into now.”
Janida nodded once, slowly. “I did wonder when you would realize that,” she said.
“You mean—you knew?” Janida nodded again. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“It not my place is, to judge another country’s ruler.” Janida stood and paced the length of the room. “And we had enough difficulties in achieving what we did today without adding uncertainty to that burden.”
“All right, but now I really don’t know what to do! I can’t bear to do this to him, Janida, I can’t keep pushing him into a role he’s completely unsuited for. And yet I can’t watch Tremontane go up in flames. It needs a King who isn’t an Ascendant and a murderer, and…” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know when I turned into the sort of person who cares about that. Two months ago I didn’t care who ruled Tremontane so long as I could go on giving him the finger. But now…maybe it took leaving my country to show me how much it mattered to me. I need help. Tell me what to do.”
Janida returned to stand near Willow, settling her gold bracelets more snugly on her wrists the way she did when she was thinking hard about something. “You will have to choose,” she said.
“Choose? Choose what?”
“The new King of Tremontane.”
Willow burst out laughing. “As if anyone would listen to my opinion on the matter!”
“This is no joke, Willow North. It must either Felix or another be. You have decided it will not Felix be. Who better to choose the other but the guardian of the Crown?”
Willow stopped laughing. “You’re serious.”
“Very serious. You understand what it means to rule a country. You have the ability to identify those traits in others. And you eskarna are, able to bring your will to pass and make others believe it their idea is.”
“But they won’t listen to me. I’m nobody.”
“Eskandel will recognize you as Felix’s guardian and chief political advisor. We will not say regent because that a bargaining token is, but in all other ways we will grant you power. You will do the rest. You are not nobody, not any longer.”
“But how am I supposed to find a new King?”
“We will send you to Tremontane with…we will say it an honor guard for the King is, protection while you send word to Tremontane’s provincial rulers. They will be his true support, and among them you may find one capable of ruling. Then it will your cause be to give the Crown to that person.”
“You make it sound easy.”
Janida smiled, a calculating expression that made Willow want to shiver. “It fiendishly hard is. But I think Willow North has never walked away from a challenge no matter how hard.”
“Until now, anyway.” But Willow knew she couldn’t walk away from this. “I can’t tell Felix. Everything depends on everyone believing we intend to make him King, and he’s young enough he’ll let the secret slip. I wish I didn’t have to hurt him like that.”
“A little pain now better than a lifetime of pain later is.” Janida began pacing again. “The fewer people know, the better.”
“Agreed. How long before Eskandel will be ready to send troops?”
“Weeks, perhaps months. But it will be long before the snows fall.”
Willow thought of Terence’s Ascendants clashing with the forces of the provincial rulers, thought of villages and towns on fire. “The sooner the better.”
“You will need time to prepare as well. And, Willow?”
“Yes?”
Janida once again regarded her with that calculating expression. “Remember that greatness may come from where you least expect it. Do not confine your search to those who already noble are. Keep an open mind.”
“I will,” Willow said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Broken twigs and scattered leaves filled the streets of Umberan, legacy of the previous day’s storm. Willow tried not to see symbolism in it—remnants of the past littering the present. How much of the previous regime would Janida have to clear away before addressing new concerns? Thank heaven Willow didn’t have those worries. No, she had her own entirely different set of problems.
The swearing-in of the new vojenta mahaut had been anticlimactic after the previous day’s drama. Even Mahnouki Ghanetan had made his oath with no hint of disapproval or disdain. They’d no doubt try to take over in a year’s time, but until then, Serjian held all the power. Not that Willow believed Janida would be so complacent as to let that slide. She’d probably already started campaigning for next year’s Conclave.
The Tremontanan enclave was as debris-strewn as the rest of the city, but people were doing something about it. Men and women with brooms swept up leaves and twigs into small piles by the side of the road, while small children gathered up what the brooms missed. They laughed as they tossed their scraps into the piles, then ran off for more. Willow nodded at the workers, who smiled and nodded back. It wouldn’t be such a bad place to live, once the Crown was securely bestowed on someone who’d wear it wisely. Maybe she and Felix would end up there.
A knee-high pile of twigs and leaves teetered next to the entrance to the khaveh-house, poorly balanced and close to falling over. Willow avoided it and bought herself a cup, then sat under the trellises, sipping the burnt-sugar deliciousness of the drink. Maybe she should learn to make khaveh, take it with her to Tremontane. It was something she’d miss.
“I hear Eskandel has a new vojenta mahaut,” Rafferty said, sliding along the bench toward her. “Congratulations.”
“It’s just the beginning. But it’s a good start.”
“So what happens next?”
“Felix returns to Tremontane in the company of Eskandelic troops and begins to gather the support of the Counts and Barons.”
“It can’t be as simple as that.”
“It’s not. Deciding how many troops is a subtlety I’m not privy to. Choosing who to approach first is also hard. And Felix’s safety is still a priority.”
“I imagine Eskandelic soldiers entering Tremontane, even in the company of its King, might be grounds for war.”
“That’s another subtlety I don’t understand fully.”
Rafferty drained his cup and set it on the table with a resounding tock. “It would be better,” he said, almost too casually, “if Felix were backed by Tremontanan fighters.”
“True, but we don’t have those. Once we command the loyalty of the provincial rulers…but that will take time.”
“You don’t have an army. That doesn�
�t mean you don’t have fighters.” He rested his hands on the table and studied his fingernails.
“We don’t—” Willow became aware of how many people were listening to their conversation. “Giles, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe it’s time for me to head north again. My people strike against Ascendants where they can, but it’s gotten us nowhere. We’re not in a position to fight the Eminence on our own, but we’re clever and strong and know how to attack from the shadows. Do you think a King might find a use for a band of rebels?”
Willow let out the breath she’d been holding. “I think he might,” she said. “Can you really bring your rebels to our cause?”
“Promise them immunity from their so-called crimes against Ascendants, promise fair treatment under the new King, and yes, they’ll fight for Felix.”
“I think Felix can do that, so long as we’re not excusing murder. And you already know he’s fair and honest.”
“I’m more interested in your promises. You’ll be part of his government, yes?”
“Apparently. I still don’t think I’m qualified, but I don’t want Felix to be overridden by advisors who have only their own interests at heart. But I won’t be regent. Janida thinks that will be a powerful incentive to get the provincial lords to fall in line, the promise of that power.”
“It could be dangerous. You’ll be giving up control.”
“Yes, but I’m definitely not qualified to be regent, so it’s a chance I’ll have to take.” Willow set her cup down and sighed. “I don’t mind telling you I’m worried. Tremontane is in turmoil and getting the attention of even one of the provincial lords is going to be tricky.”
Rafferty clapped her heartily on the back. “I think, if anyone is capable of getting the attention of an arrogant noble, it’s Willow North.”
***
Kerish and Felix were still at the scholia when Willow returned to the Residence, flushed with excitement over her talk with Rafferty. True, they weren’t soldiers, but the rebels—the insurgents—had been fighting for their freedom for years, and what better way to start a new reign than with the help of those who’d fought so desperately against the old one?
She begged food from the kitchen and took it up to the rooftop garden, where she sat at the table and enjoyed the fresh sea air. This was something else she’d miss—well, who said they couldn’t eventually return to Umberan? It was a big city, easy for a mama and her little boy to disappear into.
She made herself stop that line of thought before it went too far. Daydreaming about a distant future was an indulgence that could get them killed. Time enough for thinking about the future when she was sure they would have one.
Footsteps echoed in the stairwell, and Kerish appeared, smiling when he saw her. He carried a canvas sack embroidered with purple flowers around the mouth that clanked with fizzing silver and tingling brass when he moved. “I guessed you’d be up here,” he said. “I thought you’d like to see what I’ve been working on.”
Willow moved her meal to one side so he could put the sack on the table. “New Devices?”
“As per your request.” He opened the sack and withdrew a silver wand, smoothly rounded and narrowing toward the tip. “Five of these, three of brass, and two dozen more in production.”
“That was fast work!”
“I made this one specially for you.” He handed her a slim baton some fifteen inches long, polished ash with a hidden core of gold. An ivory cuff about an inch wide circled the wand a third of the way from its fatter end. “I don’t think I need to tell you which way to point it.”
“No, I learned my lesson already.” With the buffer of the wood between her and the core, it felt warm but not burning to the touch. “And those discs in the box are all silver.”
“It works on copper now, too, but I figured you’d prefer fizzing to itching.” He set a matching ash box about six inches on a side on the table. “Your own personal Ascendant-fighting weapon.”
“I know I said this was a war, but I have trouble picturing myself going face to face against an Ascendant with so slim a weapon as this.” She took a silver disc from the box and fitted it to the tip of the wand, then gestured with it. The disc fell off and struck the table with a dull chime. Kerish retrieved it and put it back more securely.
“If you can strip an Ascendant of her magic, this is all the weapon you’ll need,” he said.
“I know. I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful. Your talent is going to help Felix more than mine will.”
“I think that’s untrue.” He gently removed the wand from her hand and set it aside, then took her hands in his. “You still haven’t told me what you intended to say, back when you thought you’d be disappearing with Felix.”
“I can’t remember now,” Willow said, “and I have something more important to discuss with you.”
Kerish raised his eyebrows. “You look disturbed. This isn’t about how you’re leaving me for the kebab seller on the corner, is it? I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“This is serious, Kerish.”
“I can tell. You have me worried. Is something wrong?”
“I—come with me.” She drew him up from the table and led him away from the stairwell, away from any listening ears. The sweet smell of roses surrounded them, warm and wet in the afternoon heat. Willow breathed it in and was transported back to Aurilien, to an estate she’d burgled years ago whose copper-bright roses had sheltered her as she hid from the guards. What a memory to have right then.
“Tell me something,” she said, cutting off Kerish, who’d opened his mouth to speak. “Do you think Felix will be a good King?”
“I…well, of course, someday.” Kerish still looked puzzled. “He’s got a long way to go.”
“Be honest, Kerish. The truth is, Felix doesn’t have it in him to be King. And no amount of time is going to change that.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s the King. He can’t be worse than Terence, and he’s got a more legitimate claim. Willow, what’s the point of this?”
“The point is I’m not going to let Felix become King. I’m going to find someone else.”
Kerish stared at her. Then he laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious. And Janida agrees with me. I’m going to take Felix north and gather support for him, but I’ll really evaluate the nobles who come to his side and choose one of them to become King. Then I’ll make Felix disappear for good.”
“Willow, you can’t do that.”
“Why not? It means Felix gets a chance at a normal life and Tremontane gets a ruler superior to Terence.”
“I mean it’s not possible. You don’t have authority. You don’t even have an army. And the only way Felix can get out of this is if he dies. Do you have a plan for that, too?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
Kerish took a few steps toward the nearest rosebush, turning his back on Willow, and she felt cold. “This sounds like my mother’s idea.”
“That doesn’t make it a bad one.”
“No, but you’re not a noble or a politician, Willow! This isn’t your responsibility.”
“Felix is my responsibility. His happiness and safety are my responsibility. I love him and I don’t want him to have a miserable life. And, much as it surprises me, I want Tremontane to have a good, wise, competent King.”
“And you think you can decide who that will be?”
Willow recoiled. “That’s harsh.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Kerish came back to take her hands. “Why you, of all people?”
“Because if I’m the one saying Felix can’t be King, I owe it to my country not to just abandon it.” She laughed. “I can’t believe I’m even thinking this way.”
“Neither can I. Didn’t you once tell me you had more loyalty to a rabid street dog than to Tremontane?”
“That was before someone showed up in my bedroom and entrusted me with an eight-year-old King.”
&n
bsp; “Oh, so this is my fault,” Kerish teased.
“In a way.” Willow sighed. “This is the path I’ve chosen, Kerish. And I don’t think I can bear to do it alone. I can’t even tell Felix. Will you…come north with me?”
The teasing light left his eyes. “That’s not really what you’re asking,” he said.
“It’s all I feel I have a right to ask.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
His dark eyes were fiercely intent on her in a way she hadn’t seen in years. She said, “I can’t—Kerish, Felix and I are going into hiding when this is over. I asked you to give up your magic once before. I’m not going to do it again. I don’t want you to resent—”
He stopped her words with a kiss, warm and passionate. “Don’t,” he said, while she tried to get the world to stop spinning. “Don’t say anything about how you plan to sacrifice yourself for my sake, or how you’re going to make my decisions for me. Let’s just start from the beginning, all right? I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether it’s here in Eskandel or somewhere in Tremontane or wandering the known world. Maybe that means I can’t be a Deviser. I don’t think either of us knows exactly what the future holds. I’m willing to take that chance if it means being with you. Marry me, Willow. Tonight.”
Her mouth fell open. “Marry you?”
“You sound shocked. Don’t tell me—you’ve already married the kebab seller.”
“Kerish!”
“That’s what I thought.” He brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “You wanted to marry me once. I’m taking a chance on you still feeling that way. Because I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.”
She had to make herself breathe before the bronze sparkles dancing before her eyes claimed her. “Yes,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. His lips on hers were fierce, promising a future together she could barely imagine. His fingers stroked the soft skin at the base of her spine, making her shiver with pleasure. “I want to be married in Tremontane, too,” she murmured. “Will you take my name? Start a new North family?”
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