I pulled my sleeve down farther to cover the tattoos that climbed my wrist and bit the inside of my cheek. “It’s strange,” I said. “I never thought I’d be back here. When I left, it was supposed to be for good. Forever.”
We walked in silence for a bit. Bo’s curly black hair was hidden by a knit cap, but he still carried himself like a king, all shoulders and straight spine and jaw set to take on the world. Suddenly, a familiar smell snatched me out of my reverie like a riptide, pulling me into the past. The scent of Bene’s spiced pigeon pies wafted on the breeze, and I grabbed Bo’s elbow, making him stop as I searched the square.
I knew in my heart it couldn’t be Bene—I’d seen her die at Skalla’s hand with my own eyes—but there, in the place her bakery had been, was an identical shop, down to the name etched in the window where Bene had died.
“What is it?” Bo asked.
“Do you have any money?”
“A few tvilling and a handful of drott. Why?”
I took him by the hand and pulled him across the square, careless of the fact that someone might recognize me, or worse, Bo. I pushed open the shop door, and a bell chimed in the back. A young man appeared, barely older than Bo and me, with an expectant look on his familiar face. Bene’s son.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Tears welled in my eyes at the familiarity of the bakery, the knowledge that I could now afford anything in the display case, the strangeness of being greeted without the fear and terror I’d always known because I was a dimmy.
“Vi?” Bo asked, his voice as gentle as a lamb. “We’re going to be late.”
“Two pigeon pies, please,” I said. Then, on a whim, added, “And a slice of spice cake, please.”
“Gerlene will feed us if you’re hungry,” Bo whispered.
I ignored him.
“You’re in luck,” the boy said. “Pigeon pies just came out of the oven. They’re still warm. That’ll be eleven tvilling, please.”
He handed us each a pie wrapped in waxed brown paper, then set the cake in a small box and tied it with a purple ribbon. I elbowed Bo, who dropped a handful of coins into the boy’s waiting hand.
“What’s all this about?” Bo asked as we left the shop. “I’m sure Gerlene will have food.”
“Not this food,” I said, taking a bite of the pie. The crust flaked into my mouth, all butter and salt. The filling burst with spice and fat and chunks of savory meat. It was everything I remembered and more. Bo took a tentative bite of his own pie and closed his eyes, smiling.
“Fine,” he admitted. “That was a worthwhile detour. But we should hurry. We don’t want to be so late that everyone leaves before we get there.”
We finished our pies as we walked and pinched bites of cake from the box I carried. By the time we’d reached the quaint row of houses and Bo knocked on the green door, the only thing left was crumbs. I tossed the box and waxed paper into a trash bin and climbed the stairs two at a time to wait with Bo on the stoop.
The door flew open, and a woman in a moss green sweater and olive trousers wrapped her arms around Bo and me, hugging us close. When she drew back, she cupped our faces in her hands and grinned.
“The two of you. Together! I never thought I’d see the day. Come in, come in.”
She ushered us into an elegant foyer, decorated from ceiling to rugs in more shades of green than I’d ever seen in one place, including the Ilorian jungle. Bo grinned at me, and I realized my mouth was hanging open.
“Vi, I’d like you to meet my—our—solicitor, Gerlene Vermatch. Gerlene, this is my sister Vi.”
Gerlene took my hands in hers and squeezed, smiling at me. “I am beyond pleased to see you, my dear. Now, come with me, please. Everyone’s waiting in the great room.”
“They all came?” Bo asked, tension clipping his words short.
“Patrise and Lisette, of course. And Olivar, Turshaw and Zurienne, as well. They’re eager to hear your plans.”
Bo swallowed hard and reached for my hand. “They won’t bite, Vi,” he said, almost as if he were comforting himself more than me. “For all that they’re self-involved and snobbish to a fault, they care about this country and these people.”
“And they respected Runa. They’ll respect her wishes now,” Gerlene added.
My stomach was in my throat, and I managed to nod, but all I could think was, What if I’m not enough? What if they refuse to support Bo because of me?
Bo squeezed my hand. “You are enough. More than. Remember that.”
My heart tumbled over in my chest, warmed by the reminder that Bo knew me as well as I knew myself—better at times.
Gerlene looked from me to my brother and back again, smiling, before turning on a heel and leading us down the hall. “This will be great fun, I think,” she called over her shoulder.
The great room went still as we entered, and five expectant faces looked up at us, assessing. Calculating. Then one of the women, young and startlingly beautiful, stood up, a brilliant smile transforming her face. She held out her arms to Bo and, not the least bit subtly, kicked the handsome man who’d been sitting next to her on the couch in the shin. He rubbed his leg, glaring up at her, but didn’t move.
“Bo, darling,” she crooned. “We’re ever so delighted that you’ve returned to us unscathed.”
Next to me, Bo held his ground, and I could feel the irritation pouring off him as if it were my own. “Lisette. Lovely to see you. I am honored to present my sister Vi Abernathy. Vi, this is Alskad’s singleborn royal council—Lisette, Patrise, Olivar, Zurienne and Dame Turshaw.”
The elderly woman seated next to the fire looked at Bo aghast, and the others didn’t do a great deal to cover their shock at the introduction. Surely they’d been warned? Surely they knew about me already?
“I am truly appalled at your manners, child,” the older man said.
Bo smirked. “Because of the order of my introduction? Olivar, please. Surely you know that, as my sister, Vi outranks you by a wide margin, singleborn or not.”
Out of nervous habit, I touched the gold cuff I’d worn since I left Ilor, and immediately regretted the gesture as all the eyes in the room followed my hand to the bracelet, so like those they wore. Lisette coughed and plopped back onto the couch from which she’d risen.
This wasn’t going well.
“Look,” I said. “The reason we’re all here is so that you can see if I’m going to be a total embarrassment when Bo takes the throne. I can assure you that I will not. I have no interest in taking a leadership role in your government. I’m here to support Bo, nothing more. He’s the rightful heir, and he’ll make a brilliant leader. He cares so much about this country and its people. Why else would he have risked so much to save it from Rylain and the Suzerain?”
“Pretty words, darling,” the handsome man—he had to be Patrise—said, “but why should we believe you?”
“Because as many times as I’ve asked her to rule beside me, she’s said no.” Bo’s voice was clenched, emphatic.
Zurienne tapped out a rhythm on her knee with long, brown fingers, then looked up at me, considering. “We are, after all, in the house of a solicitor. She could sign something that testifies to her intentions.”
I said, “Of course,” in the same breath that Bo said, “Absolutely not.”
I turned to glare at him. “We want you on the throne. If this will make these vultures back you, then let’s do it. You know being queen isn’t the life I want.”
Patrise clapped his hands giddily. “Look, Lisette, they’re alike as a pair of earrings. Let’s make them argue more.”
Bo shot Patrise a deadly look, and Lisette preened at him, fluffing her auburn hair. By the fire, Dame Turshaw snorted and cast an indiscriminate glare about the room.
“It’s an idea worth considering,” Olivar said. “Gerlene, could you draw s
omething up? A document stating that His Royal Majesty’s sister and her offspring would have no claim to the throne? So on and so forth? You understand, of course.”
Gerlene glanced at Bo, who gave a tight-lipped nod. “Of course,” she said. “I won’t be a moment.”
Bo collapsed onto a settee with an exasperated sigh and put his head in his hands, mussing his already out of control curls. I sank down beside him and eyed the members of the council from under my lashes.
“So,” Lisette said brightly. “Things here have been particularly terrible since you left. Rylain’s a tyrant, and she told the whole of the empire you were a twin just as soon as you left—trying to cast you and Runa as traitors to the crown and the empire’s traditions and all that. What’s more, the Suzerain are using the Shriven to push the lot of us to attend adulations every day. Every day, Bo. I simply cannot go on like this.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re upset because you have to attend adulations? What about all the people they’ve imprisoned? Those they’ve killed?”
“Well, obviously that’s terrible, too.”
Patrise cut in. “How was Denor? Isn’t Noriava just wonderful?”
I could just see Bo gritting his teeth, head still resting on his palms. “It wasn’t exactly the easiest of negotiations,” I said.
“That’s putting it lightly,” Bo quipped.
Gerlene appeared in a flutter of green cloth, a piece of paper in one hand, a pen and ink pot in the other. “All this says, my dear, is that you will not take a leadership role in the governance of the Alskad Empire, and that any children you bear would be ineligible for the throne.” She glanced at Olivar. “Is there anything else?”
He shook his head and sipped from a steaming teacup.
“Then, if you would, Vi, sign here.” She set the paper on the low table, along with the ink pot and pen. I read through the document quickly and signed my name.
“That’s all settled, then,” I said. “Let’s hope things with Rylain go just as smoothly.”
Lisette pursed her lips, and Bo straightened up beside me. There was steel running through his spine, and resolve seemed to radiate off him in waves. The others in the room sat up straighter, too, their eyes trained on my brother.
“When will you go?” Zurienne asked.
“This afternoon. We’ll go back to the ship and assemble the troops and then go on to the palace,” Bo said. “I’ll need you ready to use what power you have on the council. I hope that Rylain will step down, but I don’t think it’s likely.”
The councillors shifted uncomfortably, and every one of them avoided looking at Bo. Finally, from her place by the fire, Dame Turshaw spoke up. “We’ll support your ascension as the first twin king of the Alskad Empire, should it come to that, but it is deeply immoral for us to promise you votes on a topic not yet brought before the council.”
Zurienne and Olivar nodded their agreement.
“We will, of course, do what’s in the best interest of the empire,” Zurienne said. “But who’s to say what that will be?”
“And after you made Vi sign away all her royal rights,” Bo snapped. “You lot are worse than any pirates I’ve ever met!”
He stood and, with a sour look at Dame Turshaw, stalked out of the room. I rose as well, cringing.
“Look,” I said. “If you won’t do it for Bo, at least think about all the people who’ve been affected by Rylain’s rule. Think about the families ripped apart, and the people killed. Bo may not be your idea of a perfect leader, but he has to be a hell of a lot better than Rylain.”
The front door slammed. With a half-hearted bow, I fled the room, Bo’s anger and disappointment flooding through me from outside. I took a deep breath as I tripped down the front stoop and ran to catch him up.
He needed to be calm. We had a regent to depose.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Bo
We drew more than a few stares as we made our way through the city with a regiment of heavily armed warriors, and I tried to let go of my anger at the singleborn. I understood their need to be careful, but I hated that they wouldn’t simply take my side. It made everything I was trying to do feel so much more tenuous, so out of my control.
The sun was just past its zenith when we arrived at the palace gates, the light harsh and blindingly reflecting from the snowdrifts piled on every corner and against every wall. The scent of kaffe carts and roasting nuts came sharp and bitter on the chill wind, and yet they were somehow also comforting and familiar. I’d not been gone but a handful of weeks, and yet everything was at once entirely unchanged and achingly foreign.
As we approached the palace, I stiffened upon seeing the enormous wooden doors that served as the major entrance and exit to the palace grounds. Not once, in the span of my memory, had they ever been closed—until today. The imposing stone walls were lined with guards, their weapons trained on our party, standing between us and the only way into the palace.
I straightened my back and stepped forward through the ranks of the Ilorian and Denorian soldiers. Many of those who’d formerly been Shriven had continued to shave their heads, and some, before leaving the ship, had painted their foreheads and scalps. Others had painted symbols of peace and justice on their exposed skin. It surprised me to see that some of the Denorians had shaved parts of their scalps as well, and as I walked through their ranks, I saw the reddened lines of new tattoos peeking out from collars and shirtsleeves. I was astonished by how quickly the three factions—the former Shriven, the Ilorian rebels and the Denorian soldiers—had rallied together and coalesced into a prodigious and intimidating force.
I approached the captain, a woman I recognized from my time in the palace with Runa. “Captain Devi,” I said politely. “Please inform my cousin that I’ve returned to reclaim my throne.”
The captain fixed her eyes somewhere in the middle distance over my left shoulder. “The regent grants audiences on the third day of every month, sir.”
“Your Royal Majesty,” I corrected, my jaw tightening.
“No, sir. The crown prince and Queen Runa were murdered by dimmys on the queen’s birthday.”
Vi sidled up beside me. “Trouble?”
“Apparently I’ve been murdered,” I snapped.
“Heard about that,” Vi said. “Tricksome thing, being dead. Were you snatched up to the halls of the gods to feast with Hamil and Magritte and all the rest? Get bored of all the fighting, fucking and feasting, did you?”
Captain Devi’s control over her face slipped just a hair at Vi’s sacrilegious and, frankly, coarse remark.
Vi went on, circling Captain Devi like a shark considering its next meal. She kept her voice loud enough that even the guards on the wall could hear her without straining. “Thing is, brother mine, if you’re dead, then I’m a dimmy. And I just don’t see the appeal in ripping out anyone’s throat at the moment. I’d hate to get blood all over my nice new trousers. What’s more, I see you standing here in front of me, plainly not dead. So mayhap all Captain Devi here needs is a good slap upside the head so as she can see what’s clear in front of her. What do you think?”
Vi draped an arm around the captain’s stiff shoulders and traced a finger along the hilt of her sword.
“I’m sure Captain Devi is just following orders,” I said smoothly. “She had no way of knowing that Rylain’s been lying to everyone this whole time. But then, so have I, I suppose.” I looked up and addressed the guards standing between me and the palace. “I am the rightful king of the Alskad Empire. Ambrose Oswin Trousillion Gyllen. Duke of Nome and Junot, Count of Sikts, Baron of the Kon, Protector of the Colonies of Ilor and the Great Northern Waste. Queen Runa, my grandmother, chose me to succeed her in ruling Alskad. It was her firmly held belief that the singleborn were no better than those with twins, no better than the diminished. She knew, when she chose me, that I had a twin. Have a t
win.”
There was an uproar from the guards along the wall, and those stationed before the great doors shifted and looked to one another, visibly uncomfortable.
“I tell you this now,” I continued, “because I want to begin my reign the way I intend to conduct its entirety—honestly. Now, Captain Devi, if you will oblige me, I would be grateful to be allowed into my palace.”
Anxious energy thrummed through my veins as I watched the captain’s eyes flick from me to Vi and back. She made no attempt to disguise her emotions. Anger, dismay and confusion played across her open features.
Finally, she turned to her second and barked the order. “Open the gates. Notify the regent.”
The guards, though clearly well seasoned and trained to mask their feelings, paused for a moment, gaping before they managed to pull themselves together and follow her orders.
Vi grinned at Curlin, who scowled back at her. Rolling her eyes, Vi turned to me. “Didn’t expect you to go and declare yourself a heretic before you’d even taken the throne, brother.”
“I can’t say I believe it’s a particularly intelligent move,” Quill said.
Curlin, eyes narrowed against the bright sun, scoured the square. “We’re not going in there without your solicitor and papers to back us up. The High Councillors will demand proof of all your claims, and you can bet your ass they’ll do everything in their power to stop you getting those papers if they’re not in your hand when you walk through those doors.”
I nodded, willing Pem and Still to appear with Gerlene with every fiber of my being. Vi, gray eyes flashing, strode over to confer with Jihye. I stared straight ahead, spine stiff and face impassive. The appearance I presented to these guards would travel through the barracks and the halls of the servants like an avalanche, and I couldn’t afford to let even the barest hint of the fear and anxiety roiling through my guts show on my face. If I did, it would as much as hand Rylain the throne on a silver platter.
After a delay so long I’d begun to believe time stood still, Gerlene flew into the square, emerald coattails flying behind her. Pem trotted in her wake, lugging a stack of books under each arm and a leather satchel bulging with papers.
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