by C. J. Archer
Marnie lived there too with her husband and three children, including a newborn. With no prospect of work and no money, their situation had been dire. They'd given up everything to move to Glancia from The Thumb, the outcrop of land in Vytill that had become an island after the series of quakes known as the Rift sliced it off from the mainland. Their situation wasn't unique. Indeed, it was a common story among newcomers to Mull, looking for work at the dock. The problem was, Mull was ill prepared for the swelling population, and although there were more jobs due to the increased activity at the harbor, there weren't enough for every man. Marnie was lucky. With her husband now employed by the sheriff, she'd soon get her family out of The Row. Without a husband, Remy's mother, Dora, had little chance of ever leaving.
"I have had a visit from someone, as it happens," I said, letting go of his hand. "But I'll tell you more after we've seen Laylana. What ails her?"
"She feels tired all the time and has aching limbs," he said. "She also has a cough she can't shake."
I knew what was wrong with her without even seeing her, but I asked him to unlock the door anyway. "When did she last lose her memory?"
"Three days ago."
"It must be so frightening for her," I said, more to myself than Dane.
"Not as much as it used to be. Come in and she'll show you."
Laylana sat up in bed, reading a book. Her pale skin looked even more ghoulish with her lank, dark hair framing her face. She was a Freedlander with a naturally stocky build, but even so, she was too thin.
Dane introduced us, for Laylana's benefit, but she gently admonished him. "I know who she is."
"You remember me?" I asked, hopeful.
"The captain told me to expect you. And I have this." She plucked a piece of paper from the stack on the table beside the bed. It was a sketch of me, done in charcoal, with my name clearly written at the top.
"The likeness is remarkable," I said. "Did you do this?"
"One of the footmen. He's an excellent artist."
She gathered up more of the papers. Some were sketches of people I recognized—Dane, Max, Theodore, Quentin—and others contained words written in a neat hand.
"He draws the faces of those who come in here regularly so I recognize them again after my memory disappears. I've written down who they are, and anything else I need to know when I start again. When I wake up with no memory, I at least recognize my own handwriting."
Beside my name, she'd written a short paragraph describing me as the village doctor's daughter and midwife, as well as the words kind, trustworthy, courageous. She had even written a short description of the incident that had occurred in this very room between myself and Lord Frederick Whippler, the poisoner I'd helped capture. That must be why she thought me courageous. In truth, I'd been terrified. I'd only fought him off because I had no other choice.
Dane showed me another piece of paper titled READ THIS FIRST. The rest was written in a tightly packed scrawl in Laylana's hand, informing herself of her memory loss, where she was, the predicament of the other servants, who she could trust and other details of her life here. It was woefully limited. Like the others, she knew so little of herself.
"It helps me begin again," she said.
"She used to wake up terrified when her memory was wiped," Dane said. "But since starting these notes and with these sketches, she can quickly re-learn everything she needs to know, without fear."
"There is still some fear." Laylana coughed, a dry, brittle cough that wracked her body.
I asked her to lean forward and placed my ear to her back. Her breathing sounded a little short, but not dangerously so, and there was no rattle. "Do you know how long you've had this cough?"
Laylana glanced at Dane. "About five days," he said.
I checked inside her mouth, in her eyes and ears, and asked her to describe the aching limbs. Her answers confirmed my initial thoughts.
"You're suffering from lack of sunlight," I told her. "You need to go outside on occasion, preferably in the middle of the day when the sun is its strongest."
"But I can't," she said, sinking back into the pillows. "I can't be seen."
"Why not?"
"The lords and ladies will think I'm a maid and ask me to fetch something. I won't know where to go or what to do. I don't know my way around the palace or the gardens."
"Unlike the rest of us, Laylana doesn't know her position here on the staff, or who the rest of us are, or the layout of the palace, only her name."
No wonder she was too frightened to leave the room. It would be the only place she felt safe.
"What will they think if they see a maid going for a walk?" Laylana coughed again and Dane passed her a cup of water.
"There are parts of the gardens where few nobles go," I said.
"No," Laylana said, her voice rising. "It's too much of a risk. You must understand, Josie, it's not my safety I'm worried about. It's everyone else. If someone finds out that I've lost my memory, it will lead to questions about the rest of the staff."
And perhaps the king himself, I might have added but did not.
"One of my men will accompany you," Dane said. "I'll find a gardening uniform, and you can spend your time in the pottage garden. Nobles don't go anywhere near it."
"There," I said, taking her hand. "You won't need to worry about getting lost or answering questions. All the guards know your predicament. You'll be quite safe."
"I suppose," she hedged.
"Doctor's orders," I said, smiling. "Or it would be, if I were a doctor."
She only needed a little more convincing before agreeing. Dane promised to send a man for her today with a spare uniform worn by the garden staff. It would be her first outing for weeks, so her hesitation was understandable, but she seemed to grasp the importance of it. She added it to her notes as we left.
We didn't return to the garrison. Dane wanted to pay me for the visit and Balthazar controlled all palace expenditure. His office was located nearby. Dane opened the door without knocking, earning a scowl from the elderly master of the palace.
"Good morning, Josie," he said, returning to the ledger on the desk in front of him. He wrote something down then dipped the pen in the inkwell. "I see Hammer found an excuse."
"Pardon?" I asked.
"An excuse for you to come to the palace. What was it this time?"
"Laylana's ill," Dane told him.
"She's been cooped up in that room too long. Any fool could have told you that. You didn't need to bother Josie about it."
"It's no bother," I said. "I have nothing better to do."
He peered at me over the rim of his spectacles. "Hmmm," was all he said before lowering his gaze again.
I glanced at Dane. He folded his arms over his chest and didn't appear to notice. "Josie requires payment," he said.
"How much?"
"Five ells for a simple house call," I said.
"Ten," Dane said.
"Usually my patients try to bargain the fee down, not up."
"The palace is a long way from the village."
"I'm surprised he didn't say twenty," Balthazar muttered. He removed a key from a chain around his neck and handed it to Dane.
Dane unlocked a metal box sitting on the floor in the corner of the room and counted out ten ells. He handed them to me and returned the key to Balthazar.
I thanked them and sat down. Balthazar arched a bushy brow and set down his pen. "You have something to say, Josie?"
"Lord Barborough visited me yesterday."
"Yesterday," Dane said flatly. "Why didn't you send for me immediately?"
"It wasn't necessary."
"I disagree. Barborough is a threat to your safety. Next time, send for me straight away."
"I will, if it's necessary."
His brow plunged and he crossed his arms again. Balthazar chuckled.
"What did he want?" Dane asked.
A knock interrupted us and Theodore entered upon Balthazar's command. "Josie! So
good to see you." The king's valet kissed my cheek and shook my hand, all the while beaming his friendly smile. "We've missed you."
"And I've missed you all, too." I did not look at Dane, for which I was proud of myself.
"Sit," Balthazar said, "since Hammer won't. Josie was just about to tell us something important."
"About Laylana?" Theodore turned worried brown eyes onto me as he lowered himself into the chair.
Unlike Dane, and some of the other palace staff, Theodore's heritage was easy to determine from his flat face and straight dark hair. He was from Dreen, without question, and I'd told him so when we first met. It was surprising he hadn't left the palace to go in search of his past there. Perhaps fear of the unknown kept him here. Perhaps it was the need to be with others in the same predicament that stopped him leaving. Understanding and companionship were powerful anchors.
"Laylana's fine," I told him.
"She just needed sunlight, didn't she?" he said.
Balthazar smirked at Dane.
"Josie had a visit from Barborough yesterday," Dane said. "She was about to tell us what he wanted."
"I'm sure you can guess," I said. "He wanted more information about the servants. He noticed I hadn't been to the palace much of late and reminded me that my obligation to him hadn't ended."
"Reminded you how?" Dane asked darkly.
"With his usual threat of exposing me to the king."
Dane shifted his stance. "Did he harm you?"
"No. He was too worried about falling off his horse." My attempt to lighten the somber mood that had descended over us fell flat. The look on Dane's face was as thunderous as a stormy sky.
Balthazar wiped a gnarled and wrinkled hand over his face, down his jaw. "You can't continue to avoid him. He might follow through on his threat, and we can't give the king any reason to accuse you of treason."
"The king wouldn't do anything about it, surely," I said.
They all looked away.
"But I saved the life of his favorite lady!"
"Lady Miranda Claypool is no longer his favorite," Balthazar said.
"He thinks I saved his life."
In truth, the king's life hadn't been in danger. Also, when he'd fallen off his horse, he'd preferred my counsel to Doctor Clegg's. In hindsight, it could have been because I was a young woman and Doctor Clegg an aged man. The king had certainly liked me touching his injuries.
"That might not be enough to keep you in his favor if you do something that displeases him," Theodore said.
"He's becoming more unpredictable," Dane added. "We used to be able to control him, but not anymore."
"Control is too strong a word," Theodore said with a shake of his head.
Balthazar grunted. "Manipulate, coerce, direct, influence…do any of those words suffice, Theo?"
Theodore sighed. "In the beginning, he could be advised. Now, he prefers his own counsel."
Balthazar grunted again. "You mean he only listens to that whore of a mistress."
"Bal!" Theodore glanced anxiously at the door. "Don't call her that."
"No one can hear us down here, even if Lady Morgrave or the king cared to breathe the same air as us. The walls are too thick in this part of the palace. Why do you think I chose this room as my office?"
Chose or created? Sometimes I wondered if Balthazar was the sorcerer. He knew everything about the palace, and the revels he'd organized were magical in their magnificence. He'd laughed off my suspicions, however, although he hadn't entirely dispelled my theory.
"If Lady Morgrave is influencing the king," I said, "you can be sure she's doing so at the bidding of her parents. Lady Deerhorn in particular would love to manipulate him into raising her family higher."
"No doubt," Balthazar said. "The problem is, how do we limit Lady Morgrave's influence when the king won't listen to us?"
"I still think we should put pressure on her husband," Dane said, as if this were a conversation they'd had before. "He must hate that his wife has become the king's mistress."
"Must he?" Balthazar asked idly. "Just because you would hate it, Hammer, doesn't mean he does. Perhaps he likes the compensation he received from the king. Perhaps he likes being connected to the most powerful woman in the realm."
"No man likes to be cuckolded."
"You are not like other men, though. Is he, Josie? He's unique."
I wasn't sure if he wanted an answer or was attempting to bait Dane or me, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Don't change the subject," Dane snapped.
"As it happens, you're right." Balthazar's eyes twinkled with mischief, making him seem much younger. "I overheard some gossip yesterday. Lord Morgrave has vowed to win back the love of his wife."
"Did he ever have it?" Dane asked.
"I don't think their marriage was a strong one," Theodore added. "He's much older than her, and I overheard two ladies talking about the wedding. Lady Morgrave's parents had to force her to marry his lordship."
I'd heard the same thing. While Lady Morgrave was young and pretty, her husband was old, foul-tempered, and a drunkard. No woman would want to marry him. Not even for his wealth and title. Lady Deerhorn must have been very persuasive to get her daughter to accept.
"Apparently several Glancian lords have begged Lord Morgrave to control his wife and ensure she whispers things in the king's ear that benefit them," Balthazar went on. "Hence his vow to win her back, although not necessarily remove her from the king's bed. He seems to like the thought of controlling the king through her."
"What sort of things do they want her to influence?" I asked.
Balthazar peered at me over his spectacles again. "The kingdom's affairs are not your concern, Josie."
"They want Lady Morgrave to urge the king to marry the Vytill princess," Dane said.
Balthazar rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Was I not clear enough?" he muttered.
"Josie knows so much already," Theodore said. "Why hold back information now?"
"Most of the nobles see the marriage as the best alliance Glancia can make," Dane told me. "It will ensure peace between Glancia and Vytill for a generation, at least."
Since Lady Morgrave was already married, she couldn't become the new queen. But she could still wield the power of one, if she was clever and the Vytill princess wasn't.
"Does Lady Morgrave know what Princess Illiryia is like?" I asked.
Dane and Theodore shrugged.
"Why?" Balthazar asked.
"Because a woman like Lady Morgrave will only choose a wife for the king if she knows she's a silly twit, easily manipulated. She won't want his wife to have any influence over him. An even worse outcome for Lady Morgrave and the Deerhorns would be for him to fall in love with his queen and discard his mistress altogether. Is Princess Illiriya plain or pretty?"
"According to Barborough, she is a beauty," Balthazar said. "The portrait he brought of her would suggest he's speaking the truth, but portraits are not a reliable source."
"Have any other Glancian nobles seen her in person?" I asked. "Can they verify Barborough's claim?"
"None. She's been tucked away in her father's castle since birth. Few Glancian lords venture across the border, and reports from diplomats don't mention the princess at all, except for the fact that she exists."
"Then Lady Morgrave is unlikely to turn the king's head toward her," I said. "It would be unwise with so little information, and I don't think Lady Morgrave is unwise. Her mother certainly isn't."
"So what will she do?" Theodore asked. "Who will she choose as Glancia's future queen?"
"The Dreen princess is as much an unknown as the Vytill one," Balthazar said. "I think Lady Morgrave will choose a Glancian noblewoman for the king. Someone young enough to be molded into any shape. Someone pleasant to look at, but not too pretty and certainly not someone with any character and wit."
They all looked at me. "Just because I'm from Glancia doesn't mean I know its ladies," I said. "Before coming to the palace, the De
erhorn family members were the only nobles I'd seen. If you want to learn the names of likely candidates, you ought to speak to Lady Miranda Claypool. She will probably help, and we know she has no interest in marrying the king herself."
They continued to look at me.
I sighed. "You want me to ask her, don't you?"
"You're friends with her," Balthazar pointed out.
"And with the duchess of Gladstow," Theodore added. "Between the two of them, you should glean some valuable information. You might even learn who Lady Morgrave's eye has fallen on."
Both Miranda and Kitty had visited me once in the village, though they had not come a second time. According to Miranda's letters, Kitty's husband forbade her to be friends with me. Miranda had found her own freedom somewhat curtailed too, since her parents learned she frequently ventured away from the palace. I didn't resent them for it. They were fearful of her safety after she was poisoned. The Duke of Gladstow, however, was just a snob.
"I'll do my best," I said. "But it's not easy for me to mix with them. If we're seen, people will gossip. The Duke of Gladstow will be angry."
"Gossip certainly rules the palace," Dane muttered. "It's the most valuable currency within these walls."
"You can only try," Balthazar said to me. "If you learn something, report it to one of us."
"What will you do with the information?" I asked.
"That will depend on what you find out. Perhaps nothing. I simply want to be one step ahead of Lady Morgrave and the Deerhorns. We need to be prepared." He made it sound like a war was brewing.
The thought made my skin prickle. If the king rejected Princess Illiriya, would Vytill attempt something as drastic as invasion? They coveted the wealth Glancia had gained after the Rift turned Mull into the richest harbor on the Fist. Their power would fade in the coming years if they didn't do something to retain it. If a political and trade alliance couldn't be made through marriage or diplomacy, then they might resort to forceful measures.
That theory had prompted King Leon to order an army be raised in Glancia. I'd been privy to the conversation he'd had with Balthazar, Theodore and Dane about it, but I didn't know if anything had been set in motion yet. Recruiters certainly hadn't appeared in the village.
