Stranger to the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  Getting shot would make escaping impossible. Elspeth turned and walked. “Straight ahead, not around the corner,” the soldier said. Elspeth, cursing inwardly, did as she was told.

  They took her through semi-familiar halls to a door she recognized as leading outside—to the stables, in fact. Elspeth couldn’t believe no one they passed thought anything was wrong with that picture. Well, if the woman concealed her pistol, it looked just like the Queen being escorted somewhere by her guards, and what was wrong with that?

  The stables were as busy as ever. Elspeth looked once over her shoulder and discovered there weren’t as many soldiers in her “guard” as before. It didn’t matter. There were still enough of them to force her to go where they wanted. She’d been so stupid. Lord Harrington had known she’d make for the north wing and all he’d had to do was set soldiers to watch every approach. It was a risk, but a calculated one, because her lack of knowledge of the palace meant she was unlikely to beat his men there. Stupid.

  “A carriage for her Majesty. She’s going for a ride in the Park,” the woman soldier said. Elspeth watched the carriage they brought for her. It had doors on both sides—she could get in and make a dash for the other door, get away far enough to start screaming. She tensed herself to run.

  Something cold and hard pressed into her side. “Don’t even think about it, your Majesty,” the woman said in a low voice. Elspeth hated her as she’d never hated anyone in her life.

  She climbed gingerly into the carriage, the gun’s barrel never shifting more than an inch away from her side. The woman soldier followed her, along with two other guards, and more of the green and brown soldiers climbed onto the seat and roof. With a jerk, the horses set off out of the stable yard and onto the long curving gravel path that circled the palace to the front courtyard. Elspeth looked out the window, hoping to see someone who would know she was in danger. Servants bobbed and curtseyed as she passed, but no one raised a cry. Elspeth’s chest ached with numb terror. She’d run out of ideas.

  The journey through the city to the Park passed in silence. Elspeth thought about pleading with her captors and decided that was pointless. Girls in epic adventures always had a ready quip when they were in danger, but Elspeth couldn’t think of anything clever to say. She kept a close eye on the pistol, determined to leap from the carriage if it ever wavered, but it continued to point steadily at her. Her hand closed on the window ledge. The woman soldier smiled as if she knew what Elspeth was thinking. The pistol twitched. Elspeth folded her hands in her lap. All that was left to her was to die fighting.

  The carriage rattled through the massive ironwork gates of the Park and took the road to the left, the one that led to the tiny forest in the minuscule hills. How much of this had Landon designed? A hunting preserve wouldn’t need flowerbeds. But the hills—Elspeth could imagine he would have enjoyed chasing foxes over those hills. She didn’t know how to ride, so the idea didn’t appeal to her, and at the moment it just seemed stupid.

  The walls of the Park disappeared, and soon they were deep within the range of hills. The carriage came to a stop. “Out,” the woman said, gesturing with the pistol, and Elspeth climbed out. The other soldiers had already leaped from the carriage and surrounded her. “We’re going for a little walk,” the woman said.

  Elspeth didn’t move. “If you’re going to shoot me, I’m not going to make it easy on you,” she said.

  The woman took a step closer. “If I have to shoot you here, I’ll also have to kill everyone close enough to be a witness. Is that what you want?”

  Elspeth saw a couple of riders on horseback approaching, too far away to be of any use to her. “Damn you,” she said in a low, terrible voice.

  “You’d know, wouldn’t you? Being a priestess and all,” the woman said, unmoved. “Start walking. That way.”

  Elspeth’s heart was pounding so hard she was surprised no one else seemed to hear it. She headed off across the hills, climbing the shallow incline until she reached the top. Even from that vantage point, the walls weren’t visible. She descended the far side, then up another small hill, up and down until the woman said, “Here is fine.”

  Elspeth turned and faced her. “Do it,” she said. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  The woman smiled. “We’re waiting for someone.”

  Elspeth looked around. The area was as remote as she imagined was perfect for a murder. “What, you don’t feel up to killing your Queen?”

  The woman said nothing, just scanned the close horizon. “I can’t believe so many of you were willing to betray me,” Elspeth said. “How many was it? Or was Captain Sommers the only one, and you are his underlings?”

  “Captain Sommers is a fool, but he knows which way the wind blows,” the woman said. “Talk all you want. I don’t mind.”

  This made Elspeth decide to shut up. She was shivering in the light breeze, though it wasn’t all that cold, and she hugged herself and felt the cool touch of the bracelet against her other wrist. Now she would never know for certain who her mystery man was. And there would never be a chance to learn if he was someone she could love.

  She ran her fingers over the meditation ritual and drew in a deep, calming breath. At least she wasn’t afraid of reaching heaven, though she wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of meeting her grandmother Genevieve. But maybe she and Landon had more in common than she’d believed.

  Footsteps rustled the winter-dry grass, and Elspeth looked up to see Lord Harrington descending the slope. He, too, carried a pistol which he held loosely in one hand. “Is everything in order?” he asked the woman.

  “We have witnesses to swear the Queen was taken from the road by Ruskalder,” the woman soldier said. “They’ll find her body and the ‘Ruskald warrior’ who declared his desire to see the traitor Queen dead before he was shot down by her loyal guards.” The woman smiled nastily.

  “Very good.” Lord Harrington approached Elspeth. “It really is unfortunate it had to end this way,” he said. “You had the makings of a good Queen. You just didn’t know whom you should listen to. But in honor of that, I’ll make this quick and as painless as possible.” He smiled, as nasty an expression as the soldier’s. “Well, that’s untrue. It will probably hurt a lot. Just not for very long. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

  Elspeth lowered her arms and stood facing him. “I’m not afraid,” she said. “But you should be very worried when it’s your turn to die. Heaven isn’t gentle with murderers.”

  “If I shared your faith, I’m sure that would worry me,” Lord Harrington said. He raised the pistol. “Goodbye, your Majesty.”

  A thunderclap shattered the sky. A knife-edged fist punched Elspeth hard in the chest, knocking her backward. She heard a cry of pain and was surprised to discover it hadn’t come from her. Then there were dozens more sharp explosions, too high-pitched to be thunder, and shouts, and screams.

  She lay on her back and blinked up at the sky. Her chest hurt so badly she could barely breathe. She tried to lift her hand to touch where she’d been shot and found her limbs wouldn’t move. Shaking, she tried again, and her left arm twitched and then lay still.

  Someone crouched beside her, brushing Elspeth’s hair out of her face. “Your Majesty,” Simkins said. “Can you move? You’ve been shot!”

  Elspeth worked her lips, ran her tongue over them, and whispered, “It hurts.”

  “You’ll be fine, your Majesty. We’ll get you to the palace and Dr. Ambrose will help you.” Simkins took Elspeth’s hand and patted it. “It’s all over.”

  “What…happened?” Elspeth managed.

  “Not right now, your Majesty. You need to lie still. But—” Simkins touched Elspeth’s chest right where she’d been shot. A sharp pain shot through Elspeth, making her keen through clenched teeth. “Dear heaven. What is this?”

  Elspeth tried again, and this time managed to raise her hand. She lightly touched the remains of the toan jade, cracked into half a dozen pieces from what her fingers to
ld her. “Shot…in the chest…” she said. “He didn’t…believe…the more…fool…him.”

  Someone else knelt beside her, casting a large shadow over her that chilled her. “I don’t think she should be moved,” Faraday said. “Someone bring Dr. Ambrose here. Quickly.”

  “You…found me…” Elspeth said. She couldn’t draw breath deeply enough to speak normally. Anything more than a shallow breath felt like being knifed in the chest.

  “I’m sorry, your Majesty, I didn’t realize you were conscious,” Faraday said. He gripped her hand in his large, warm one, and the shivers stopped. “Just lie still.”

  “Don’t…yell…”

  “Not until you’re better. I promise to let you have it when you’re well enough to fight back.”

  Elspeth smiled. “What…happened? Talk…keep me…alive.”

  “You’re not going to die.”

  “Then keep me…being bored.”

  She opened her eyes to see Faraday and Simkins look at each other over her recumbent body. It was a look that said they weren’t at all sure about her prospects. Tears slid down the sides of her face. She couldn’t die, not now that Faraday was here—he would never forgive himself.

  “Please,” she said. “It hurts.”

  Faraday looked down at her. He looked terrible, between the three days’ beard growth and the dark, sleepless circles under his eyes. “Lord Harrington shot you in the chest,” he said. “He’s a very good shot, fortunately for you. He hit the toan jade and the ball ricocheted to hit him in the face. That’s what I saw right before I knocked him down and broke his wrist.”

  “But…so many…soldiers…”

  “Perhaps I should explain more thoroughly,” Simkins said. “I freed Mister Faraday and we returned to find you gone and the door broken. We guessed it meant you had freed yourself, as the soldiers had the key and would not need to destroy the door to retrieve you. So we went back to the north wing and summoned as many North guards as were on duty. We hoped you would make your way back to us, but I knew we could not trust any Tremontanan soldiers and that you would understand that as well, so as soon as the guards were assembled, we set off in search of you.”

  “We were lucky,” Faraday said. He hadn’t let go of Elspeth’s hand, and it both comforted her and frightened her, because much as his hand warmed her, it also felt a little like the kind of grip that says someone is close to death. “One of the servants remembered seeing you heading for the stables with a soldiers’ escort. And the stable hands told us you’d definitely said you were headed for the Park.” He held her hand more tightly. “Just keep breathing, your Majesty. Everything…everything will be fine.”

  “Might…have been…a diversion…”

  “It might have, but we were running out of time and I hoped it meant the enemy was too,” Faraday said. “And we were lucky again, because as we entered the Park, Lieutenant Anselm saw a squad of Tremontanan soldiers disappearing into the hills. We chased them…sweet heaven, your Majesty, I am so sorry.” Anguish filled Faraday’s voice, and his grip on her hand was so painful she let out a squeak he was too far gone to notice.

  “Why…sorry? Saved…my life…”

  “I was seconds too slow to keep him from shooting you. The only reason you’re still alive is that heaven loves you and your unwavering faith. Your Majesty, I insist you let me resign. I can’t bear this.”

  Elspeth blinked up at him. “Give you…different job. Royal…dog catcher.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So…am I…all those dogs…running around loose.”

  “May I suggest this be a decision for another time?” Simkins said, her voice sharp with fear.

  Elspeth heard more voices, one of which was familiar. “Don’t leave me,” she told Faraday. “He stays,” she told Dr. Ambrose.

  “As you wish, your Majesty.” Elspeth heard cloth tearing, and Faraday looked away. Sharp pains twinged through Elspeth’s chest as the doctor plucked the fragments of the toan jade from her wound. It still hurt far worse than anything she’d experienced before.

  Dr. Ambrose put a warm hand on Elspeth’s wrist just above the bracelet. “Your breastbone is cracked, and you have some internal bleeding,” she said, “so I’m going to put you to sleep while I heal you. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  Elspeth looked up at Faraday. “Everything…will be…fine,” she said, and slipped into unconsciousness.

  26

  She woke in her own bedroom and inhaled deeply before remembering she couldn’t. Nothing hurt. The smell of cinnamon and roses, her own personal scent, filled the air as it always did. She pushed herself up on her hands and found her body responded just as if she’d never been wounded.

  She sat up fully. Someone had removed her clothes and dressed her in her nightgown, no doubt why she felt so comfortable. She plucked at the neck of her nightgown and peered down at her chest. It was smooth and unmarked, with no sign of where the pistol ball had struck her or where the toan jade had dug into her chest.

  The memory made her heart skip a beat. Her precious medallion, shattered beyond repair. It had saved her life, but she missed it so much she…well, no, she didn’t wish she’d been killed, but she was furious with Lord Harrington for destroying something she loved so dearly.

  With that thought, she reached for her left wrist and breathed another deep sigh when she found the bracelet. That someone had realized not to remove it warmed her heart. She ran her fingers over its surface until she felt calmer. Toan jades, as Hien had often told her, were only special in how they linked someone to heaven, but hers had been given to her by Hien and Elspeth irrationally felt as if she’d let the chief priestess down in letting it be destroyed. Which was foolish, and Hien would probably be the first to point out how direct heaven’s intervention had been on Elspeth’s behalf.

  She looked around for her watch and didn’t see it. The clock on the mantel showed 8:17, but in this windowless room Elspeth didn’t know if that meant morning or evening. She climbed out of bed and put on her dressing gown. She could ring for a maid, but the quietness had started to get to her, and she felt an urge to go where people were and reassure herself that not everyone in this palace wanted her dead.

  Her sitting room was empty and dark. She fumbled her way through it, missing her light Device—something else she owed Lord Harrington a beating for—and opened the door. Everything was dark and quiet, but she saw firelight in the distance, and made her way toward the drawing room until she could see the fireplace fully. The windows were all dark. Veronica sat in a chair before the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  She startled when Elspeth entered, then stood swiftly, more swiftly than Elspeth had ever seen her quiet aunt move, and hurried to put her arms around Elspeth and hug her tightly. “I know Dr. Ambrose said you would live,” she murmured, “but you looked like death when they brought you home. I am so glad you’re well.”

  Elspeth clung to her aunt and blinked away stupid tears. “It was that bad?”

  “The doctor said the internal bleeding was serious, and that your ribs as well as your breastbone had cracked. And that the medallion hurt you badly when the ball impacted on it. But you would have been dead without it, so she said we could call it a miracle. And be grateful Lord Harrington didn’t try to shoot you elsewhere.” Veronica released her only to hold her by the shoulders at arm’s length, examining her closely for hidden wounds. “You aren’t still hurt?”

  “I feel perfectly healthy and in no pain. Where is everyone? Where is Mister Faraday?”

  “Gone,” Veronica said, “to arrest everyone who might have been complicit in the attempt on your life. Lord Harrington is in jail. General Beckett locked up all the traitorous soldiers Lord Harrington convinced to follow him. Serena d’Arden is still at large, but I imagine they’ll capture her soon. It’s over, Elspeth.”

  “It’s over,” Elspeth said. That wasn’t true. For her, it was just beginning. But it was the end of Lord Harrington’
s bid for power.

  Veronica patted her shoulders. “I’m going to bed now. I only sat up to be sure you were well. You should rest. The doctor said you would feel very tired—that a major healing is like the body healed itself, but at twenty times the normal rate of recovery. Are you hungry?”

  “No,” Elspeth said, then realized that was a lie. “I’m famished.”

  Veronica smiled. “I’ll have the kitchen bring you a tray. You should sit here and rest. I’m sure Mister Faraday will return eventually. He wanted me to make his apologies to you for leaving.”

  “He did the right thing,” Elspeth said.

  She sat in one of the hugely overstuffed chairs and leaned well back, closing her eyes and basking in the heat from the fire. She realized she’d dozed off when Shirley nudged her and settled a tray over the arms of the chair. Elspeth devoured everything they gave her, for once feeling the cook had guessed right: roast chicken and slices of tender beef in gravy and a bowl of buttery new peas and a pile of mashed potatoes as big as her doubled fists. She gulped orange juice straight from the carafe, burped, and felt at peace with herself and the world.

  Shirley returned a few minutes after Elspeth had finished and removed the tray. Elspeth went back to reclining in the wonderful chair. She understood now why her aunt was so fond of these Ruskalder furnishings, with their heavy arms and cushions deep enough to swim in. The fire’s heat caressed her bare feet, and she dozed again, dreaming of drowning in a sea of cinnamon buttercups.

  The sound of the east wing door slamming woke her, frightening her with the thought that they’d missed someone who was now on their way to kill her…no, that was stupid, the North guards wouldn’t let anyone like that through. She sat up and turned in time to see Faraday enter the drawing room and approach slowly, his eyes fixed on her. He still looked terrible, unshaven and his mouth drawn down at the corners, but the sight of him relieved her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she said before he could speak.

  His mouth tightened. “You’re sorry? Your Majesty—”