by Janeal Falor
I snort again. Like she knows how good my skills are.
“What next, Inyi?” Jem asks.
“You can't have anyone touch you, except servants helping you prepare yourself,” the girl replies.
Maybe there’s one rule I can follow. Unless they're trying to kill me. Then I can't promise anything.
“Which goes along with you not being able to marry,” Jem says with glee.
I hadn’t wondered why queens of Valcora don’t take a husband. It never crossed my mind that it might be an actual rule. This one will be easy to acquiesce to.
“The queen can't have relations either.” Jem grins.
“Why not?” Not that I was planning on having any.
“Because she’s not allowed to have kids. The law doesn't want them to think they have a claim to the throne, when queens are made only through the Mortum Tura.”
Something else I never thought of. But I don't want to think anymore. Not with Jem being snotty at every comment and with Daros at the top of my thoughts. It's a struggle to keep a placid face.
“We're done for the day,” I say moving toward the door.
“But Your Majesty…” Inyi says.
“Let her go,” Jem says. “If she doesn't want to learn our ways, she can fail without us.”
Determined to ignore her, I take another step. A strange sensation flickers at my back, and I swing around just in time to see a man crashing through the window.
Jem and Inyi scream. I pull out two daggers, though not my poisoned one.
He runs toward me and jumps over the low table. I flash my blades before he reaches me. He has a sword in hand. I won't last long against that, but he can't take me; I want to know who sent him.
“Guards,” Jem calls out.
The attacker thrusts his sword at me. I block it using my dagger, with little room to spare. With my other hand, I throw the second dagger. It lands in his shoulder.
I slowly circle him, intent on getting between him and my ladies in waiting. They may not be my favorite people, but there's no way their deaths will be on my hands. There's enough blood on my hands as it is.
My opponent grabs hold of the hilt of the dagger stuck in him and yanks it out of his shoulder with a grunt. Now he has two weapons. I pull out the dagger that was strapped to my thigh, to even the odds.
The man gives me a cruel smile and jumps forward, brandishing his weapons. Behind me, Inyi screams again.
“Guards,” Jem yells.
My attacker shoves a chair toward the door, locking it under the handle. While he's distracted, I go at him and nick his waist. He roars, swinging his sword. I leap back and collide with one of the ladies in waiting. Someone props me back up. It's Jem. Inyi has fainted.
I'm surprised Jem hasn't as well, but there's no time to think about it. The man charges at me again. There's not much room to maneuver, with two chairs with girls in them at my back. I doubt he's going after them, but I can't give him leverage.
I throw another dagger at him. He blocks it with his sword, and it clatters to the ground.
There's a banging at the door. The chair in front of it vibrates but doesn't budge. I'm on my own, which would be easier if the weapons were even. I've faced worse odds, though.
The only dagger within easy reach is my poisoned one. I can't use it if I'm to question him. Just one blade it is. I dart forward and back, slicing his stomach before he can fully swing. He holds out his sword, but it's his other hand I'm worried about. He brings it back and pivots it forward, releasing my dagger back toward me.
I duck, heart pounding. Jem is still sitting, so the blade goes into the wall behind her, under a painting.
I spring to my feet, diving up and forward as I do so. My dagger barely misses my opponent’s stomach. He thrusts his sword at me, and I bend back. Wind rustles across my chest, as the blade passes over it.
We spar, neither of us gaining an edge on the other. He's good. Too good. Did Daros train him? The thought makes me falter, and I almost get a cut to the arm. I flash my dagger up and stop the metal. My hand is twisted to the side, but I have the perfect opportunity to go for his face. I snake my arm forward.
Before I can get there, he brings his sword to my neck. The blade presses against my skin.
I lost.
I haven’t been beaten outside of training. “Who sent you?” I ask.
The man laughs. Stupid man, laughing when he should be slitting my throat. I stab him in the arm holding the sword. He drops his blade with a howl, and I kick it across the room.
The chair in front of the door shudders. My attacker slinks away from me to dive for the sword. I have to get it before he does.
He bends down. I knee him in the face, but it's too late. Even as he falls backward, he has the sword in hand.
The door slams against the chair, opening a good inch. Inyi squeals, awake again. I rush toward my attacker, but his sword comes up, halting my progress. I'm tempted to throw my dagger, but then I'd only have the poisoned one in my boot.
My hands grow slick with sweat. I keep a good grip on my dagger—not too tight, not too loose.
He comes at me, swinging his sword like a madman and sending me scurrying backward. The length of his blade is going to do me in.
Though maybe not. His arm is dripping blood.
I get ready to throw my dagger, hoping to distract him long enough to wrestle the sword away from him.
The door bursts open. Three guards rush in, one after the other. My attacker glances toward them. I swing my arm back, and my opponent looks at me. The first guard doesn't hesitate, but stabs him right through the heart.
My attacker falls to the floor. Adrenaline pumps through me.
“We should have learned how to defend ourselves, instead of all these rules.” Inyi’s voice is slurred.
“Quiet,” Jem says.
I'm surprised Jem isn’t more squeamish. But then, she has lived at the palace for a while now. Perhaps she's used to this kind of thing.
“Forgive us for not being in here before he attacked you,” the guard who stabbed the man says.
“Is he dead?” I ask.
The guard feels for a pulse, though it's obvious the man expired. “He is.”
“Drat.” It can't be helped now. I go about picking up my daggers and cleaning them. “What's your name?”
“Wilric, Your Highness. If I may, why do you have so many weapons?”
I remember Nash mentioning him. His bushy eyebrows are over dark eyes. Staring into them, I'm not sure he can be trusted, even if Nash said he could be. But Wilric did save my life. Unless he killed the attacker on purpose, so I couldn't interrogate him.
“Next time, injure my attackers,” I say, ignoring his question. “Don't kill them.”
He bows his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I glance down at the lifeless man. It's a shame I can't question him. I need to know who sent him. Is it the same person as last time? Someone new? Daros?
He can't have found me. He just can't.
I turn away. I don't know how, but the attacker knew how to find me. Someone has inside knowledge of my life.
And they will have to pay.
Chapter 11
Ranen stands as I enter my sitting room. “If you listened to me, you would be assaulted less,” he says.
He just put himself up as being behind the threats on my life. But it could be Daros or someone else. I wish I had answers. “I want the furniture in this room changed to something comfortable as soon as possible.”
“But, My Lady—”
“I am the queen. There is no but. Get a move on my request.”
He clenches his teeth and leaves the room at a much slower pace than I would like. He's definitely one I'm going to have to watch out for.
I open the door to find a guard on each side of it, a woman and a man, but not the one from last night. Where is he?
Trying not to show signs of weakness, I tell the guards, “I wish to see my Head Advisor.
”
“Yes, My Lady.” One of them bows and hurries off. Stupid, really. They should have a runner to do that, not the man who’s supposed to be guarding my life. Either they have no clue, or they don't care about my life.
I'm not sure which one I prefer.
I wait in my sitting room, though I refuse to sit in one of those awful chairs. Several minutes later, someone knocks on the door. Finally.
“Come in,” I call out.
Ranen opens the door, no furniture in sight.
“What are you doing back without my chairs?”
“You called for me.”
“No. I sent you to fix my furniture problem.”
“And then you sent for the Head Advisor. That's me.”
Oh bother. “Not anymore. I demote you to Furniture Fixer.” Even if he hates me for it, this is where he belongs. Even if it’s not a position, I just made it one.
He pales. “But—”
“I told you, I am your queen. There are no buts.”
He puckers his lips like he ate something sour. “Yes, Your Highness.” He bows and leaves the room. Again.
I want to stomp my foot. Instead, I poke my head back out my door. “What is your name?” I ask the guard who didn’t fetch Ranen.
“Afet, Your Majesty.”
“Afet, where is the guard who spoke with me last night? Nash?”
“I don't know, My Lady,” the guard who went to find Ranen says.
“And your name?” I ask.
“Stird, Your Highness.”
All this My Lady and Your Highness is getting as old as the bowing. “Well, go find him.”
“Yes, My Lady,” he says with a bow.
I slam the door. Hopefully that gets them moving. I don't understand anyone here. They're constantly bowing to me and calling me Your Highness, and yet no one seems to listen to me. I know nothing about being a queen—maybe that's the way it's supposed to work?
Maybe a queen has no real power and is more of a figurehead. With the way I've been treated so far, that's the only thing that makes sense. But then, why even have a queen? Why not a governing council? Perhaps there is a simple reason, but I was never allowed to know much about politics.
The wait is worrisome. What if they can't find Nash? What if I don’t see him again? He is the one person in this place who seems genuine so far. Not someone who might be threatening my life. Plus, he's not annoying.
I pace my room, thinking over the attack as I wait. Was it Daros who sent the assassins? For all I know, it could be someone else entirely. Without knowing who’s behind them, I can't stop the next one. Perhaps I couldn't stop it even if I knew, but there would be some comfort in it. I need to figure it out so I can get on with my life. Or my possible death.
There's a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call, hoping Ranen doesn't pop his head in this time. Unless he has good furniture, that is.
Nash opens the door.
“Good. Shut the door behind you,” I say.
He does so and says, “I heard you were attacked again. Are you all right?”
“Fine. Why didn't you come this morning, like I asked?”
“I'm glad you're well. Wilric did a good job saving you. He should be rewarded.”
Maybe he should be. Then again, maybe he was protecting himself. “You didn't answer my question.”
“I didn't come because no one believed you asked me to.”
“But I made you Head Advisor.”
“No one believed that either.”
“Well, why not?”
“Because no one heard you say it. If you want people to believe it, then you need to decree it in public.”
“Arrange to have everyone there, and I'll make it official.”
“That's the problem—I can't arrange it now. No one will listen to me.”
I growl in frustration and head for the door. There are too many skirts on me. The two guards still stand outside my door. “I want an audience with the most important people in this government,” I say. “Can you do that?”
They look at each other. The one on my right says, “I don’t know.”
“Find someone that can and make it happen.” I slam the door.
Hopefully my furniture comes before the people do. I don't want to have a meeting in my bedroom, but I swear I won't sit in one of those chairs. It's like they purposefully gave me a room I'd be uncomfortable in.
“May I make a suggestion?” Nash asks.
“Only if you tell me your last name first.”
“Will you tell me your name?”
“I did tell you I don't have one.”
“You were being serious?” His brows lift.
“I was.”
“What have people in your life called you?” He looks perplexed.
If I wasn't so accustomed to it, I'd find it perplexing too. “Nothing, really. Sometimes girl. Nothing of any significance that I'd want to continue to be called.”
“We should find you a name before the meeting.”
“Is that what your suggestion was?”
“No.”
“Then tell me your last name, and you can make your suggestion.”
“Zorris. It's Nash Zorris. And I most kindly advise that you use this meeting to understand the other members of government.”
“I don't care about them.” I don't care about any of this. Mostly I want everyone to leave me alone.
“I know. You can even let them know that, but I strongly recommend you start getting to know them. Some will be allies, but others will want you off the throne and they’ll do anything they can to make it so.”
“They can have the throne. I don't want it.” I'm surprised I admitted that out loud, but it's more than true. If I'm going to trust someone, it may as well be this Nash.
“The only way they can get you off the throne is if you're dead,” he says.
I want to say that it doesn’t matter. Death would be welcome. That's why I got into this mess in the first place. Yet… someone tried to take my life, and I wouldn't let them. That has to mean that I care. Right?
And there was something about that dream last night. Something that scared me, but at the same time I thought I should embrace. Something kind and loving. Something unlike anything I've ever felt before.
I pace the room. Nash is thankfully silent.
I don't know what to do.
The pacing doesn't help. It only makes me feel more restless. What I want is to spar with someone. To fight. There's no room for that in here without moving furniture, though I do wonder if Nash would brawl with me. This is off topic and not very useful when I need to decide if I want to live or not.
My life… it's not worth living. Not after what I've done—the blood I've spilled.
Yet I can't bring myself to say I want to die. It shocks me. How did I come to this point?
It doesn't matter. It’s what I need, and now that I want to live, I will cling to life.
“What if I don't want them to kill me?” I ask.
Nash crinkles his eyebrows together. “I'll protect you, and so will others. But this is exactly why you need to try to get to know the leaders in government. They can make or break you.”
There's a knock on the door. I open my mouth to call out, but Nash puts up a hand to stop me. “Please. Allow me to answer it.”
I nod, conceding to him in this. He does seem to know a lot more about how a queen should act than I do. It's not what I was trained in. What was he trained in, to know all this as a guard?
He opens the door and speaks to someone I can't see. Once he closes the door again, he turns to me and says, “The council is ready for you.”
And I am most certainly not ready for them.
Chapter 12
It's not an overly large room, but big enough to make me wary of all the people in it. About twenty men and women. I'm the youngest of the group.
They bow as I enter. After I motion for them to rise, I want to ask Nash if this i
s truly the entire government. My training flares to life and I imitate them, holding my shoulders back and head high. Each of them seems like they have abundant ego to fill this palace. They remind me of my old master.
But I don't want to think of him.
Him forcing me in a tiny closet with glass jutting out on all sides, for hours at a time.
Him forcing me to stab rats.
Him tying me up until I freed myself, however long it took.
I shake my head. I'd rather force myself to get familiarized with all of these men and women than think of him again. And that's what I'm going to do.
I make my way to the chair Nash guides me to. Ranen sits on my right. Suck up. He should be out, finding my new chairs, instead of here. At least this chair doesn't look quite so torturous.
As soon as I'm seated, everyone else takes a seat.
Then they all look at me.
What are they doing that for? Oh. I'm probably expected to lead this meeting? I motion to Nash. “This is the new Head Advisor, Nash. You will all treat him as such. If not, it will be off with your head.”
There are several gasps throughout the room, but I don't catch who they come from. Ranen clutches at the arms on his chair, knuckles turning white.
I should make sure he's put in his place. I motion to him. “This is my new furniture arranger. He will be going throughout the palace, making certain the furniture is comfortable.”
There are a few more gasps but also a few titters. I refrain from smiling.
Nash cuts in after that, and I'm grateful for his help. I don't know how to talk to these people, but he seems to. “The queen would like you each to state your name and tell her a bit about your position.”
The man next to Ranen starts. “Your Majesty, I am your most humble of servants.” Yeah. Seems like it. The guy has a triple chin and sounds as if he thinks he's king of another country, voice pompous and commanding. “I am Timit of the most noble house of Alek. I am Head of the Treasury and at your service for whatever you may need.”
I'm sure he does a great job of lining his pockets, if he’s the one responsible for all the taxes on all classes. Were those the last queen's idea, or some combination of the two? As a nation, we have lots of rich mines, but as a people, most are poor. Where is it all going? I’ll have to find out. Before I can think any more on it, the next person is introducing herself.
