by Janeal Falor
I don't want to say it, but it comes out anyway. “You know it's inevitable.”
He grips me by both shoulders. Heat blossoms where he touches. “Don't say that. You're far too valuable to be talking that way.”
“But it's the way things are, even if I would have them differently.” And I do. I want to live. I want to lean in close. To feel him caring for me. To enjoy this world.
But sooner or later, my time will end.
“I will change them.” He sounds so certain, I almost believe him.
He lets go of me, and I wish he wouldn’t. “Sorry for touching you. It’s getting to be a bad habit. You could do something about that. It’s in your power to have me killed.”
“Like I would do anything of the kind. Your secret is safe with me.” He relaxes his face, and I want to tell him how much he means to me. Instead, I clear my throat. “I sent guards to Jem's room. Same for the other ladies in waiting. We are searching for evidence that they were in on Ranen's plot. Since Faya was in on the plot, I trust none of them.”
“I spoke to the guards. They should be here soon, to let you know. Do you really think Jem was in on it?”
“More than likely, even if Faya said she was going to control her. The others very well could have been involved too, though. It's hard to say.”
“I know you have good reason to distrust them, but some of them do want to help you.” His voice is soft.
“Don't you think they just want the crown for themselves?” It feels true.
“Perhaps, but I'd like to think some want what's best for the country. If they see you being a good leader, taking their advice, and thinking of the people, maybe they'll know you are the best option.”
There's a knock on the door. Nash answers it and lets in Wilric.
Wilric bows, and I ask, “You have news for me?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. All the rooms were searched, but nothing incriminating was found in any of them. Furthermore, I took it upon myself to search Ranen’s and Borkus's rooms. They also revealed no link to the ladies in waiting, though we did find a note in Ranen's room that looked as if it was meant for an assassin.”
He hands me the parchment. I look it over to find he indeed wanted to take my life and was requesting someone else do it. Yet again.
I hand back the note. “Please see that it is put somewhere safe, to be used against Ranen.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bows again before leaving the room.
Nash gives me a look that has my insides melting. I wish he would touch me again. Make everything all better simply by being near.
He says, “I can't believe Ranen would try to do that to you.”
“You mean have me killed?” I don’t skirt around the word. “Is it so hard to believe?”
“I suppose not. He's always been a powerful player at court, but I didn't expect him to stoop so low. I hate him for it, but it's not surprising. I guess I just hope for the best in people.”
What would he think if he knew who I really was? Would he dislike me as much as he does Ranen? I don't want him to hate me. Just thinking of it shatters my heart.
There's another knock at the door.
“The council wanted to speak with you,” Nash says. “There will be someone coming to get us.”
“Very well.”
I'd much rather stay in my sitting room with his hands on my shoulders. Instead, we head out.
We arrive at the council room, and I take my place at the head of the table. “Why did you wish to speak with me?”
“Your Majesty,” Timit says, “we were all so worried over you when we received news of the betrayals.”
I'm sure they weren't all worried.
He continues. “After these events, we believe the ball should be canceled.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
He looks down. “For your safety, Your Highness.”
“My safety, or so you don't have to host poor people?”
He has the grace to turn red.
Kada says, “It's true that we have a hard time understanding why you wanted to host a ball, but we went along with it when we got word. We really are concerned about your safety.”
“Forgive me for being the voice of dissension, Your Majesty,” Yuka, Head of the Arts says, “but I believe we should go forward with the ball. If we add extra guards, it will be safe, and the people will be happy to have a day of feasting.”
Or she could be on Ranen's side and want me out of the way. It's hard to know who to trust.
Kada says, “I disagree. People will not be happy if their queen is murdered before them.”
Beside me, Nash tightens his fists.
“No one is going to be murdered,” Yuka says. “We will be cautious with our queen. We've dealt with situations where the queen was out in public before. We can do it again.”
“Yes, but she wasn't around peasants,” Timit says.
I want to growl at him. “If you remember, I was a peasant before I came here,” I say.
“But you're not one now,” he says. “You are their leader, and as such, you should endeavor to act like it. We've given you time to catch up on the training you should have had before taking the Mortum Tura. Now, you need to be our queen.”
Nash bolts to his feet. “You will not talk to Her Majesty that way.”
I want to pull him down. To make him stop. But I can't have either him or me looking weak. Plus, he does have a point. They should not speak to me so. I'm glad Nash stood up for me because I'm not certain I could do it for myself in these circumstances.
Timit looks as if he wants to say something more, but I cut him off. “I understand your concerns, but it’s best that we go forward.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Sidle, the Head of the Military, says, “but I think Timit is right, even if he went too far with his words. It isn't right to put you in danger knowingly.”
“I'm in danger every moment of my life.” Which hasn't changed by my becoming queen. Some things never do.
“But why should we push that danger?” Sidle asks.
“Because the people need it,” I say.
They continue arguing back and forth for the better part of an hour. With my decision made, I let them, without paying them much mind. Sure, the guards could turn on me. The council members might be on Ranen's side. He might have another plan up his sleeve. But I will not give into such tactics.
“Thank you for your opinions,” I say. Nash's training has done some good. “I will be going ahead with the ball.” They start to speak, but I silence them with a flash of my hand. “This is my final word.”
I stand, and Nash does as well.
He follows me out the door. “You handled that well,” he says as we walk through the halls. The compliment warms me, but he's not done. “I wonder, though, if it's wise to continue with the ball. I know you want to meet the people and show them you care, but what if someone is waiting to hurt you? We haven't gotten anything else out of Ranen. Whatever reason he had for talking before is no longer a threat. He could have other people on his side.”
“I respect your assessment. While I agree somewhat, I feel that we must go on. I can't live my life in fear. I can't let Ranen win by making me go into hiding.”
“No, but you could make him win by going out, where he knows you'll be and can hurt you through someone else while you're there.”
Is he worried about me as the queen or as something more? I'm brave enough to face murderers, but not to ask if he cares for me. “Everything will be fine. If not, I'll deal with things as they come.”
Just like I always do.
Chapter 41
“You handled Ranen well.” The first queen's voice comes to me before I see her. When she appears, her face is bright with a smile. “I disliked him from the start.”
“You and me both.”
“How did you handle him so well? How did you handle all your attackers?” she asks.
I shrug. “Some people are just go
od at things.”
“Hmm.” She stares into my eyes, and I don't look away. “You should have him put to death,” she says.
“Do you think so?” The thought makes my hands quiver. It’s against the way I was raised to leave someone like him alive. Unless it was Daros. He was never to be harmed.
She moves closer but doesn't reach out to touch me. “I know this is hard for you. I can't pretend to understand why, but you need to do this. He will come back to haunt you if you don't.”
He will if I do, too. “He's well tucked away in the dungeons.”
“For now. But will he stay that way?”
“I'll put extra guards on him.” I'll do anything not to have to give a death sentence.
“Why do you fight so hard against it? Ranen is an evil man.”
My throat feels tight, though I'm not awake. “Maybe. Doesn't putting a death sentence on him make me equally evil?”
“Sometimes you have to get rid of an evil man so he doesn't bring an entire nation down.”
“Do you think he’d do that?” I know he's bad, but is he that bad?
“I know he would.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of past evidence. Ranen has been around for two different queens before you. I know you don't want to hear it, but he manipulated them both.”
“But he's imprisoned now. We're safe from him.”
“If that is your choice, you should stand by it.”
“It is.”
He’d better not make me regret it.
Chapter 42
The preparations for the ball are coming along nicely. Plenty of food is being prepared in the kitchens and has been for days. The decorations in the ballroom are exquisite, with fabrics in bright colors draped across the walls. The wooden floor is gleaming.
Tonight, I hope to not fall on my face on this floor, in front of the thousand or so people we're expecting. This room won't hold them all, but the palace is big enough that there are plenty of other rooms done up in similar fashion. Throughout the rest of Indell and all of Valcora, similar feasts are being held. My people will hopefully remember this day as a good one.
Inkga comes in the ballroom from a side door. “It's time to get ready for the ball.”
“It's not for another three hours,” I reply.
“It's not really enough time, but I didn't think you'd let me get away with preparing you all day.”
“What could we possibly do that would take so long?”
“Hair. Make up. Perfecting your dress.”
“Sounds like nonsense to me.”
She laughs. “Maybe, but you want to make a good impression on your guests.”
“I suppose.” Mostly, I want them to like me, but apparently I'm not that likeable a person. I'll have to figure out another reason for them to like me, other than for who I am.
We move to my bedroom, where my preparatory stuff is waiting, including all five of my other servants. Inkga sits me down and starts by combing through my hair.
“Are you nervous?”
“Of course not.” But just in case there's something I can do about it, I ask, “Why do you think so?”
“You're pinching your fingers together.”
“Ah.” Well, that's easy to fix. If I remember to think about it, that is. I hope I don't do it in the middle of the ball.
After they comb through my short hair, now midway to my ears, and take my hair out of the pins, I make the servants wait in the other room while I take a bath. I put on a shift and open the door for them.
“Why don't you take a seat?” Inkga asks. “We'll get you ready, and then we can put your dress on. There's no sense in wrinkling it or getting it stained.”
I take a seat, staring at myself in the vanity. One of the servants takes the mirror off. She turns it around and places it on the floor against the wall.
“Why did you do that?” I ask.
“I asked her to,” Inkga says. “I want your final transformation to be a surprise if that's all right, Your Majesty.”
“It's fine.” Though it's not. I can't see behind me, like I'm used to. I want to know if one of them is about to stab me.
Instead, I'll have to trust them. It's a hard thing to ask of me.
Inkga starts in on my hair, while others work on my nails and face. While my hair is tugged and pulled on, my nails are softened with oil and the tips rounded, and my face is dusted with fine powders—all of which takes a good long while.
I try to sit calmly, but I want to move about. My body aches to get out of this chair, as comfortable as it may be.
A servant comes scurrying in.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Your Majesty, the herald would like to know your name so they can present you properly.”
The hands working on me still. This is not something I want to deal with right now. “You don’t need to know my name.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but how will we know what to address you as if we don’t know your name?”
Shame burns through me. I keep still. How am I going to get out of this one? “I am Queen of Valcora, that is all the people need to know.”
He gives a tight frown and bow before heading back out of the room. My servants continue working on me, their hands moving slower than before. I work to keep from clenching a fist.
When my servants are done, they start in on dressing me in an elaborate silver colored gown. It's made of the silkiest material, almost like water against my skin. They puff and tweak and rearrange.
“There,” Inkga says. “You're ready. Would you like to look in the mirror?”
No.
When I don't reply, she says, “Come on. You look fantastic. It's not every night a girl gets to go to a ball, adorned like this.”
But what if I hate it? I don't want to hurt her feelings.
“Just look,” another girl says.
“You'll love it,” says a third.
I haven’t heard them so vocal before. Their enthusiasm has me wishing I stopped to learn their names. “I suppose it won't hurt anything to look. But if I don't like it…”
“You will,” Inkga says. “I know it.”
We spent three hours getting me ready. It’s longer than anyone should have to sit in a chair, being primped for something, but I've lived through torture. I can live through this. I might as well see what they’ve done to me. I take a deep, steadying breath before looking in the mirror they replaced.
My slippers are hidden beneath the volume of fabric. Strands of white swirls are sewn into the silver material. I give a little sway back and forth, letting the skirt swish around my legs. It has a rounded neckline with capped sleeves, and it hugs my thighs, giving me room to walk freely and still hide my daggers.
Though I'm unfashionably skinny, the dress is by far the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It looks just like it was made for me. If I was into girly things.
My hair is pinned up to look curly around a silver headband that the tiara will go over. My lips are a pale pink, and my cheeks are faintly blushing, but what really gets me is how big and blue my eyes look. They're surrounded by the faintest bit of silvery shimmer.
“It's breathtaking,” I say. “Thank you, all.”
The girls grin like I rewarded them with extra pay. After this, maybe I will.
“Just in time, too,” Inkga says. “The ball is starting now.”
I take a deep breath. I suppose it's time. I'm about to attend my first ball. I don't remember ever having such nerves before, except for my first job.
Chapter 43
The way is lonely, even with my horde of guards and my maids. I wish someone besides them was here to attend me. Well, not any someone, but Nash. Having him by my side would make this so much easier. Would he attend me, if I asked him to? He probably would, but I told him I needed to do this part for myself. I need to show the country I am their queen, with no help from others.
Standing on my own is what I do. So what if I hap
pen to want someone with me on occasion?
Two guards and a door stand between me and the ball. The noise of the crowd hums through the wood. I have a surprise waiting for the people, and I can't wait to share it with them.
One of the guards puts his hand on the doorknob but watches me to see when to turn it. I'm hot and crushed inside my dress. I know it's the stress, but it's enough to make me want to go back to my room and hide.
I've never hidden from a challenge, and I'm not about to start now.
I nod to the guard. When he opens the door, a ballroom full of people stop what they are doing to stare at me. I grow even hotter. I step forward, one foot at a time, leading out onto the dais. The guards spread out around me. My servants hang back. There's not a familiar face in all the crush, except my ladies in waiting and the council.
Where is Nash?
“Presenting the Queen of Valcora,” a herald announces.
The crowd is so silent, I could whisper and they would hear. As one, they bow to me. I motion for them to rise.
There's an enormous amount of people here. Some in fine ball gowns, others in street clothes—though they look like they did their best to clean up. There's a clear line between the two groups. Though I understand why that separation exists, I wish there was something I could do to eradicate it.
A servant brings me a familiar chalice on a tray. The Mortum Tura. Proof I am the queen.
I grasp the stem and remember the words of the first queen. I need to drink this; it has magic in it. Magic has changed my entire world.
I'm no longer alone.
I reign over a whole country.
I want to live.
Magic has done great things for me. I want more of it. I drink the Mortum Tura until it is all gone.
The crowd watches, eager for the glow that accompanies the famous drink. I don't see it myself—there are no mirrors—but it must start, because there's a collective gasp from the crowd.
They bow again, low to the ground.
They stay there for far too long, even though it's just moments.
