Stranger to the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  “Sit,” Faraday said. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  Elspeth sat beside him. Her hand came to rest on her bracelet, and she twisted it idly one way and then the other. Faraday watched her restless motion, but said nothing. Finally, she said, “Both Lord Harrington and Lady d’Arden have done suspicious things. Shouldn’t we try to force the issue?”

  “That could be extremely dangerous for you,” Faraday said. “If we guess wrong, the actual traitor will be warned that you are on the right track, and he or she will not hesitate to eliminate you.”

  “But Lord Harrington, at the Council meeting today, went into detail about how much evidence the investigation against you was turning up. If we don’t act soon, you’ll face criminal charges in court, and I’m not sure even my word will be enough to protect you.”

  “The Queen has the power to commute sentences, but no ruler of Tremontane has ever freed someone accused of high treason. It would look strange, at the very least.” Faraday grimaced. “It would be better if you let the charges ride. I’m not inexperienced as a questioner, and I can defend myself.”

  “With no evidence supporting you? I’m not going to let you go to prison for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  The grimace turned into a sour smile. “High treason is a capital offense, your Majesty. I would be executed.”

  Elspeth shuddered. “That is definitely not going to happen.”

  “That reassures me, your Majesty.”

  Elspeth stopped twisting her bracelet and removed it, holding it loosely in one hand and running her fingers across the meditation ritual. The action relaxed her. She traced the letters again and let her shoulders droop.

  “What are you doing?” Faraday asked.

  She opened her eyes and saw he was looking at the bracelet rather than at her. He sounded curious, less on edge than before, and the sudden, unexpected change in his attitude made her hesitate before answering. “This bracelet is carved with the fifth meditation ritual, the path of harmony. I was practicing a little meditation to calm myself.”

  “Isn’t that what your toan jade is for?”

  “Yes, but this is…” She felt a little shy explaining it, now that she’d carried the bracelet for a while and felt connected to it. “It’s just different,” she concluded. “It makes me feel strong in a different way.”

  “It’s certainly beautiful.”

  She nodded. “I love it.”

  Faraday stretched and rose from the cot. “I think you’re right that we need a different approach. But not one that jeopardizes you. We should choose one of our possible traitors and decide what he or she would do if they were the traitor, then watch for those behaviors. Whoever it is has certainly not given up on the treason plot, and might act on it at any time.”

  “If it’s Lady d’Arden, she’ll increase her mysterious trips. Can we have someone follow her?”

  “Miss Ravenscourt can handle that. What would be even better would be to have Finance investigate her, because this kind of plot requires a lot of money. If you trust Master Withers, that would be another approach.”

  “I think I do, after what Miss Simkins said. And Lord Harrington…if it’s him, he still needs me dead, or at least incapacitated. I could trail around without my bodyguards—”

  “That is not acceptable,” Faraday shouted.

  “Calm down. I meant, without obvious bodyguards. It would be perfectly safe.”

  “Risking yourself like that is the opposite of safe. Promise me you won’t do it.” His eyes blazed in his haggard face. Elspeth, startled by his vehemence, nodded agreement.

  “With Lord Harrington,” he said, somewhat more calmly, “the key is Ruskalder involvement. If he makes a move to incite Ruskalder hostilities, that would be the beginning of his push to start a coup.”

  “He hasn’t said anything about Ruskald. He was even cautiously pleased at the embassy’s response to our tjorak.”

  “It’s been barely two days. Don’t become complacent.”

  “I won’t,” Elspeth said, stung, “but I don’t want to make assumptions and let them lead me to the wrong conclusions.”

  Faraday sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m on edge and I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “I understand. It must be hard being stuck in here with nothing to do.”

  “‘Hard’ is an understatement. I sometimes fear I’m going mad. Your arrival was a relief.”

  Elspeth smiled. “What do you do all day?”

  “Think about the possibilities implicit in my being framed. Go over what we know in a futile attempt to come up with some new fact that will reveal the truth. Eat. I didn’t realize all I had to do to get the best meals of my life was to be thrown in jail. Are you responsible?”

  “Travis the guard gave me the idea. It hadn’t even occurred to me that someone might try poisoning you. So I sent what was left after I ate. Cook seems not to believe I’m not five fat men in training for a pie-eating contest.”

  “I didn’t think of poison either. Nor of telling the guards not to let anyone take me away. You’re more devious than I originally believed.” He sat beside her again. “More devious, and less fragile.”

  “You really didn’t think highly of me at first, did you?” Elspeth put her bracelet back on and resumed twisting it.

  “I didn’t know you to think anything of you. I based my actions on the information Lord Harrington had, that and my assumptions about someone who would choose a religious life in a foreign country. It still seems odd to me that anyone would do that.”

  “You don’t understand what it’s like, living a life devoted to heaven. But most people don’t, so I don’t hold it against you.”

  Faraday turned to look at her. “So…what is it like?”

  Elspeth puffed out her cheeks and blew a long, slow stream of air. “We meditate to draw closer to heaven,” she said, “and that’s a feeling like no other, when there’s only the faintest veil between us and it. Some of the priestesses claim to have seen people on the other side, but I never have. I don’t know that it’s necessary, really. Heaven’s blessing extends to all of us, now and after we die, and I don’t think we have to touch the afterlife to feel it.”

  “I’ve never been very religious. That probably seems strange to you.”

  “Not really. Most people aren’t, except maybe at the solstices. But what people forget is that heaven doesn’t care if you’re religious or not—it’s there no matter how you behave or what matters to you. We’re all entitled to heaven’s touch no matter whether we’re priestesses or…or disgraced Internal Affairs heads.”

  “I admit it’s comforting to think of heaven watching out for me at a time like this. What would that look like? Heaven’s blessing, in these circumstances?”

  “Peace of mind, maybe. Clarity of thought, to help you figure out the truth. Or it’s said that sometimes heaven’s blessing comes in the form of other people.”

  Faraday chuckled. “Which in this case would mean you are heaven’s agent.”

  “Well, I was going to be a priestess. We’re supposed to divine heaven’s will. Unfortunately for you, I was never good at that. I was always better at counseling people and working out what they actually wanted.”

  “A skill that has stood you in good stead in your current role.”

  Elspeth shrugged. “I’d like to think so.” She stood. “I should be going. Tomorrow I’ll learn more. Is it reasonable for me to feel urgency?”

  “Of course. Just don’t let it make you act in haste. That’s the sort of thing that means disaster in situations like these.”

  Elspeth thought about that on the way back to the north wing. Despite what she’d told Faraday, she was tempted to make herself bait, pretend to be helpless and then swoop in on a would-be assassin, interrogate him…it was a pleasant fantasy, but one she wouldn’t act on. Not only would Faraday kill her if she did, she couldn’t guarantee that an assassin wouldn’t get lucky no matter how many hidden guards she had. />
  She left the north wing and turned left, grateful for the little light Device that glowed pale red and fit into the palm of her hand. It gave her just enough light to make her way through the palace halls, and the light was soothing and didn’t blind her when she accidentally looked at it. She was used to the low light enough that when another light sprang up ahead, she blinked and had to turn away.

  The light drew nearer. Elspeth ducked into a side corridor and squeezed the light Device off. Nobody ought to be about this late—well, she shouldn’t be about this late, but it was her palace, and nobody else had that kind of excuse. And while she had a right to demand an explanation of anyone wandering the halls at midnight, her instincts told her it was better for her to conceal herself.

  She flattened herself against the wall and waited. Very soon, two guards—no, soldiers, armed soldiers—in Tremontane colors bearing a lantern marched past, followed shortly by another pair of soldiers in green and brown. Elspeth held her breath, though they made enough noise that they wouldn’t have heard her breathing. The light, and the sound of their boots, faded into the distance. Elspeth crept out of the hallway and watched them go. They were headed for the north wing, but where had they come from? She conjured a mental map of the area. The most likely possibility was that they’d come from the Rotunda, where the night guard post was. Someone must have sent them on an errand…but to the north wing, which was silent and dark and empty?

  No. To the Justiciary.

  Dread filled her heart, and she crept after the guards, staying so far back they weren’t more than a speck of light in the distance. Her familiarity with the path kept her from tripping in the darkness. They made the turn from the north wing to the long, long sloping path, and then she had to turn on her light when that turn hid their lamp from her view.

  She sidled up to the corner and peeked around it. She saw the lamp just at the limits of her vision. The soldiers appeared to be talking to the guards at the cell doors. Then two of the soldiers went through the door to the cells. Elspeth held her breath. How well would Travis bear up against those soldiers, both of whom had looked tougher and meaner than the slovenly prison guard? Or—Elspeth felt faint—she hadn’t considered that someone wanting to remove Faraday might take a more direct approach, and damn the consequences.

  She watched, unable to move, for what felt like several minutes, but when she looked at her watch had only been about ninety seconds. Then the soldiers emerged from the door, formed up, and proceeded toward the Justiciary.

  Elspeth leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, until she felt capable of moving. Then she flew down the hall and arrived somewhat breathlessly in front of the guards. “Who did you just let in?” she demanded.

  “Prisoner transfer, your Majesty,” the guard said. “But they said they didn’t have the proper papers.”

  Elspeth looked at the door. “Let me through,” she said.

  Travis opened the inner door at her impatient pounding. “I didn’t let them take him,” he said. “I swear it, your Majesty.”

  “Did you let them in to see him?”

  “Not that neither. I ain’t stupid. Ain’t no weapons allowed in the cells.”

  Elspeth stared at Faraday’s door. “You did well. Thank you.”

  “You want to see he ain’t dead? They didn’t get even to the door.”

  Faraday would think she was mad if she burst in on him like that. “No. It’s fine. I’ll…be back tomorrow night.”

  She trudged back in the pale red glow of her Device and didn’t stop until she was safely in her room. She slid her bracelet off and put it into its box, then sat on the edge of her bed and shook. That had been close. She wished she had some way of knowing who had ordered those guards to…did it matter if they’d been told to kill him in his cell or to take him somewhere else to do the job? Of course not. He’d be dead either way. The urgency she felt now wound her to the breaking point.

  She checked her watch. Almost one o’clock. Someone at the guard post would know who’d ordered those soldiers to do that “prisoner transfer.” In the morning, she would…but by morning, there’d be new guards, and tracking down who’d been in charge the previous night would be far more difficult and take more time. On the other hand, they would definitely notice the Queen visiting the guard post after midnight, and if the guards had been suborned, they would tell whoever had given those orders. That would both warn her enemy and put her in danger. Maybe it was better to have an underling do it in the morning.

  She lay back, fully clothed, and clasped the toan jade to her chest, her fingers groping for insight. She sometimes did this, let her instincts choose the path that would help her most in the hope that heaven might guide those instincts. Her fingers settled on the third ritual, the path of wisdom: drink deep, and be filled. She surely needed wisdom. What course of action made the most sense?

  She ran the tip of her forefinger over the deeply carved words. A memory came to mind, Faraday telling her not to be impatient. She felt impatient, ready to leap from her bed and fly through the halls to the Rotunda and the guard post. She could learn immediately who the traitor was—at the cost of warning her enemy that he had been exposed. Right now, he believed he was safe, that Elspeth wouldn’t know he’d made a move until tomorrow, possibly late tomorrow. That meant he wouldn’t act in a panic, and that gave Elspeth time.

  She sighed. Waiting was so hard, but it was the right choice. She wearily undressed and crawled into bed. Her last thought was of Faraday, sleeping on that uneven cot. She wasn’t going to let him die, even if that meant looking like a fool for pardoning a traitor. She couldn’t believe she’d ever hated him.

  She rose early the next morning and hurried through dressing and eating. She settled the toan jade around her neck to rest just above her breasts and slipped the bracelet over her wrist. Doubly armored, she set off for the north wing.

  “Lieutenant Anselm, come with me,” she told the lieutenant when they reached the steps to the north wing. The lieutenant looked puzzled, but followed Elspeth to her office. “I need you to find something out for me,” she said, “and I need you to be discreet.”

  “Of course, your Majesty. Anything you command.”

  “Four soldiers tried to remove Mister Faraday from confinement late last night. I need to know who gave that order. And by that, I mean where it ultimately came from, not just the guard captain who sent them. Can you do that?”

  “I can, your Majesty. How discreet do I need to be?”

  Good question. “It will be hard to conceal my involvement, given that you’re a North guard and not a Tremontanan soldier, but if you can misdirect people into believing you’re acting on behalf of the Judiciary, that would be best. The Judiciary employs both soldiers and North guards.”

  Anselm nodded. “I understand, your Majesty. I assume you want this done immediately?”

  “Yes. Please. The faster, the better.”

  Anselm gave her the abbreviated bow the military used and excused herself. As she left, Simkins entered the office. “Is now a good time, your Majesty?”

  “I suppose. A good time for what?”

  “For your schedule, your Majesty.”

  She’d been so focused on the problem of treason she’d forgotten she had more mundane responsibilities. “Yes. All right.”

  She listened with half her brain to Simkins’ recitation, the other half running through unanswerable questions. How would her enemy strike? Did he or she believe Elspeth was closer to unmasking them than she was? That ought to make them careless, if they were afraid of being revealed.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Yes?” Elspeth dragged herself back to the present.

  “If something is distracting you, I can return later.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Simkins. I do have other things on my mind, but that’s no excuse for rudeness.”

  “I understand, your Majesty. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not right now, Miss Simkins, but plea
se stay close at hand. Today might be interesting.”

  Simkins smiled. “Does ‘interesting’ mean ‘full of excitement’?”

  “That is exactly what it means.”

  “Then I await those interesting developments with great anticipation,” Simkins said, and let herself out.

  Elspeth went through more work, including signing the personal petitions she was so accustomed to Faraday bringing her. It irritated her that her enemy had struck at someone she depended on just to divert attention from his plans. She signed a few more papers, used the signet to seal the ones that needed a more official stamp, and leaned back in her chair to stretch her back out. She checked her watch: it was only 10:27. She had no appointments scheduled for this morning, nothing but a diplomatic reception at the Ruskalder embassy at three o’clock that afternoon. The invitation had indicated it was to reciprocate for the tjorak, which intrigued Elspeth. So at least one thing had gone right this week.

  Simkins knocked on the door. “Lieutenant Anselm, your Majesty.”

  Elspeth sat up straight. “Show her in.”

  Anselm didn’t look as if she’d learned anything earthshattering, and Elspeth’s eagerness faded slightly. “Well, lieutenant?” she said.

  “I think your Majesty should know this was more difficult a task than you probably anticipated,” Anselm said. “Certainly more challenging than I thought. Someone wanted this information concealed.”

  “That is important, lieutenant, thank you. But you did learn it?”

  “The captain in command last night, Captain Sommers, gave those orders directly to the soldiers involved. He flatly refused to tell me who had given the orders to him. I tell you this so you’ll be warned, your Majesty. I think Captain Sommers is corrupt.”

  “I agree. Thank you.”

  “So I went to the soldiers in case one of them might have seen whoever controls Captain Sommers. As I hoped, no one had told the soldiers they weren’t to speak of their orders. People in command sometimes don’t believe ordinary soldiers are smart enough to have opinions. One of them recognized the person as Lyle Carruthers.”