The black-clad man followed her into the next room and shut the door behind them. It wasn’t a throne room. It wasn’t even an audience chamber. It was a study, an ordinary if windowless study with a couple of bookcases, a claw-footed desk big enough to sleep on, and a globe on a stand. Two armchairs were drawn up to a fireplace in which a fire was laid but not lit. The only illumination came from a pair of lamps, lit by flames and not magic, that flanked the fireplace, shedding light on the deep chairs and turning their black velvet upholstery dark blue.
King Derekian Fiorus sat in the armchair facing the door. He wore simple but elegant clothes that again made Sienne grateful she’d chosen the gown, a belted rust-red tunic over a white linen shirt, plain wool trousers, and boots so finely made Sienne was sure she knew who his bootmaker was. His neatly-trimmed black beard concealed his expression, as did the hand he had raised to his mouth. She’d expected to see, if not the state crown, a coronet like the one her father wore on court days, but the king was bareheaded and his hair needed a trim. That relaxed her somewhat. He’s just a man, after all, she reminded herself.
“Have a seat,” King Derekian said, gesturing at the armchair opposite him. Sienne’s nerves twanged again. She seated herself and smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt. The king regarded her for some time, during which Sienne clutched her fingers together and waited for him to speak. Whether he was trying to disquiet her, or simply didn’t know what to say first, she didn’t know, but she had a feeling it was safer, with this man, not to give up any advantages. Speaking first might be a weakness.
“So,” he said finally. “You have a request.”
“I have two, your Majesty.”
The king raised one eyebrow. It made him look like a satyr. “Daring.”
“I told you we needed to speak to you about our last job. That’s the important thing.”
“Is it? Go ahead.”
“I’m not the best one to explain it. Perrin Delucco—”
“Is not the one I’ve granted an audience to. Your time is short, Sienne. Make your case.”
Sienne glanced at the black-clad man, who was seated behind the desk, pen in hand. “It’s sensitive information, your Majesty.”
King Derekian followed her gaze. “Benedict,” he said, “are you comfortable hearing sensitive information?”
Benedict inclined his head once, but didn’t look up from his paper. “Your Majesty may choose to dismiss me, if my confidence is in question.”
The king turned back to Sienne. “Benedict Gambrus knows where all the bodies are buried,” he said. “Take that as literally as you like. He is my confidential secretary, and having him present for this conversation saves me the effort of having to repeat it to him later. I assure you he’s good at keeping secrets.”
Sienne nodded. “All right. Your Majesty, we took a job—”
“Is this background necessary?”
“Yes, your Majesty. I’m sorry, but you have to understand how it all began for it to make sense.” Sienne hoped he wouldn’t lose interest. She was no storyteller, like Swift, whose people’s fate was in her hands. “We were hired to clear out a ruin east, near the Bramantus Mountains…”
She told him everything she could remember, though she glossed over the fight with the howler and said nothing about nearly becoming a howler herself. Derekian’s expression never faltered, though he did cross his leg over one knee halfway through her recitation, and stroked his beard a few times. When she started repeating herself, he held out a hand palm-first and said, “That’s enough.”
Sienne fell silent. Derekian said, “I thought you intended to ask me to disinherit you.”
“I did. I mean, I do. But this is more important. It was why we all wanted to see you, not just me.”
“I understand. You brought one of these were-creatures with you?”
“His name is Swift. He’s in the antechamber—you can speak to him—”
“Not right now. I have a few more questions for you. What exactly do these werebears expect of my government? Recognition? Or support?”
“I’m…not sure what you mean. They want the same rights as any citizen. I suppose that means protection from assault, and recognition, yes, of their property rights, but they don’t want any special favors.”
“And yet that is exactly what they would have to have, in order to remain safe from humans who would see them as a threat.”
“But they’re not a threat! That settlement is willing to live peacefully with them, side by side. If they can do it, why not others?”
“Few humans are so understanding. We tend to fear what we don’t understand, and kill what we fear. I would have to send troops for their protection, and Gavant help those troops if they fall victim to fear, too.”
“It wouldn’t have to be forever. People would get used to them.”
“Not soon enough.”
“So you’re not willing to commit troops to the protection of these people just because they are a little different from you and me? They’re not deserving of living free and having a better life for their children?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Sienne. This is a complex problem and you’re not the one who will have to solve it.”
“It seems pretty simple to me. They’re people. They want to be treated like people. And they’ve turned to you because you have the power to make that happen.” Sienne leaned forward. “I told them you’re fair and honorable. I hope that wasn’t a lie.”
The corner of the king’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “You’re far more eloquent than I believed from our last meeting. Are you calling my character into question?”
“I think that’s up to you, your Majesty.”
Derekian laughed. “Benedict, are you getting all of this?”
“Every word, sir.”
“Sienne Verannus, your words are being immortalized as we speak. How do you feel about that?”
Sienne swallowed. “Very small, your Majesty.”
“And you don’t want to be duchess of Beneddo.”
“No, sir. But the werebears’ plight is more important.”
“I see. And you say they’re living in tents now? What do they do in the winter?”
“I don’t know, your Majesty. Clever said they hibernate, but that the very young children can’t do that, and some of them die.”
“This settlement agreed to help them build permanent homes.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Making my agreement moot.”
“I’m sure they didn’t intend that, your Majesty.” She didn’t want to tell him how defiant Yannick had sounded when they’d warned him about that.
“I wonder.” Derekian leaned back and steepled his fingers together. “And what will these creatures do for Rafellin?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What benefit do they bring to our country? How will they improve our economy, for example? Or will they simply take our resources and give nothing back?”
His question irritated Sienne. “Does it matter?” she said. “I mean, a baby is a drain on resources, and it doesn’t give anything back. It’s not until it’s grown that you know what it can do. Who knows what these people might end up doing for Rafellin?”
“So we’re to support them on the off chance they might end up benefiting us?”
“No. We support them because it’s the right thing to do. We don’t cast people aside just because they’re not useful, whatever that means. They’re people, like us, and they’re struggling. We—Rafellin—we have a chance to embrace the only nonhuman intelligent race anyone’s ever discovered that isn’t trying to eat us. That has to count for something.”
The king went silent, tapping one long finger against his mouth. “All right,” he said. “Sienne Verannus, in recognition of the services you have rendered this kingdom, I grant you a boon. Ask, and I will give it to you.”
Sienne’s heart lightened. She smiled, and opened her mouth to speak. “Do not be hasty,” t
he king said. “One boon, Sienne. Be careful what you ask for.”
Sienne’s mouth snapped closed on her quick reply. “I don’t understand. You mean—if I ask you to recognize the weres as citizens, you won’t…you won’t grant me any other request.”
“Ah, it appears you do understand.”
“But that’s not fair! Why can’t you do both?”
Derekian rose. He wasn’t a tall man, but he towered over her in her chair. “I am disinclined to set an example that inheritance law is a thing lightly set aside,” he said. “And according recognition to the werebears will cause strife in my kingdom for years to come. You may have done me a service in the past, Sienne, and you may have performed acts that benefited our people, but you are not entitled to disrupt this kingdom twice. One boon.”
Sienne’s throat closed up. She swallowed hard, twice, trying to get it to open. The sheer monumental unfairness of it all made her wish she dared scream at this man. Faintly, she heard herself say, “You leave me with no choice.”
“You always have a choice, Sienne.”
Even if the choice is death, Alaric had said. It had sounded overly dramatic then. Now it felt like inevitability. “Then I choose for you to recognize the werebears as citizens,” she said, and bid farewell to Sienne the scrapper.
24
The king’s eyes narrowed. “That is not the choice I expected of you.”
“It’s the only one I could make, and keep my self-respect.” Sienne’s eyes ached with tears she would shed later, when she was well away from this awful room in the awful palace.
“I hope you aren’t expecting me to change my mind just because you made the unselfish choice.”
“No, your Majesty. I only expect you to do as you’ve promised.”
“My word is law, Sienne.” The king extended a hand to help her up. She thought about rejecting it, decided that was juvenile behavior, and let him assist her to her feet. Her knees trembled so much she was afraid she might collapse, and she leaned on him more heavily than she wanted. The king regarded her closely. “Are you well?”
“I’ll be fine.” She let go of his arm and clasped her shaking hands together.
Derekian still had his eyes on her face, studying it. She wondered what he saw there. “Sienne Verannus,” he said, “shortly I will leave this room to speak to the were-creature you’ve told me about. I will give him the news that he and his people are now citizens of Rafellin. You have until I open that door to change your mind, if you wish, and I will give him different news.”
Sienne swallowed to moisten her throat, which had started to close up again. “Thank you, your Majesty,” she said, “but that won’t be necessary.”
The king pursed his lips in thought. Then he inclined his head once to her, the bow of equal to equal, and gestured for her to precede him through the door.
She knew the look on her face delivered the news before she had time to speak a word. She didn’t dare look at her parents for fear their obvious pleasure at having won would destroy her hard-won calm completely. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dianthe cover her mouth to hold in a gasp. Perrin lowered his head so his long hair obscured his face. Kalanath’s mouth went grim, and he turned away, closing his hand as if reaching for a staff that wasn’t there. Sienne saw all this in a blur, because her attention was all on Alaric. His eyes, filled with hope, went stony, and his jaw tightened. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing could make this better for any of them. Why she wasn’t crying, she didn’t know. One always wept over a death, yes?
“I assume this stranger is Swift,” Derekian said.
“Yes, your Majesty,” Sienne said. It came out as a whisper, and she cleared her throat and said, “Swift is the werebear matriarch’s cousin, and her official emissary.”
“Excellent. Swift, are you prepared to make binding oath on behalf of your people?”
“I am, sir. Your Majesty,” Swift said. He alone among her friends was calm. Well, this wasn’t a tragedy for him, if you didn’t count how Wit should have been there to make oath as well.
“Then kneel, and raise your hands, palms together.”
Swift knelt and raised his hands as directed. Derekian placed his hands on either side of Swift’s, encompassing them. “Benedict?” the king said.
Sienne hadn’t noticed the black-clad man following them. “Swift, repeat after me,” Benedict said. “I, Swift, on behalf of my people, swear fealty to Rafellin and its monarch, to obey its laws, and to serve its needs, according to the requirements of its government.”
Swift recited the words back without hesitation or mistake. For someone who kept the words to hundreds of stories in his head, one line was no difficulty.
“I, Derekian of the Fiorus family, by the grace of God King of Rafellin, accept the fealty of the werebear people, and swear to defend their lives as citizens of this country, according to them all privileges and rights appertaining thereunto.” The king removed his hands and added, “You may rise.”
Swift stood. “Thank you, your Majesty. My people thank you.”
“Thank Lady Sienne,” Derekian said. “It was her boon I granted.”
Alaric stirred. “You made her choose, didn’t you,” he said, distantly, his eyes fixed on the multicolored wall.
“I did. Do we have a problem?” Derekian’s voice was cool, but Sienne saw his fist clench, and it satisfied her to know he was a little afraid of what Alaric might do.
“I would never cheapen Sienne’s sacrifice by fighting you over it,” Alaric said.
Sienne realized her parents were standing close beside her. Neither of them touched her, for which she was grateful. Her face felt numb and her eyes hurt from unshed tears.
“I would like,” Derekian said, “to see our newest citizen in his true form.”
“This is my true form,” Swift said, “or, more accurately, we’re not more one than the other.”
“However you put it. Will you shift here?”
Sienne said, “Um, your Majesty, my parents—”
“You convinced me that humans will learn to live with Swift’s people,” Derekian said. “Do you lack confidence in that assertion?”
“No, your Majesty.”
“Sienne, what is he talking about?” Papa said.
“And—dear Kitane, why is that man undressing?” Mother added.
Sienne just shook her head as Swift finished disrobing and took a few steps away from everyone. It occurred to her that if this had all been an elaborate assassination plot centered on the king, she and her unarmed friends were in no position to defend him, and their lives would be forfeit. The thought was dull, distant, and Sienne discovered she didn’t much care if it were true.
Swift’s body distorted, and he fell to all fours, shifting into his bear form as he fell. Sienne’s mother shrieked and grabbed Sienne, pulling her away from Swift. Papa stepped in front of them both, shielding them. “What in Gavant’s name is going on?” he shouted.
“It’s all right, Papa,” Sienne said, removing her mother’s hand from her shoulder. “Swift is a werebear. They’re intelligent and not at all vicious.”
Derekian hadn’t moved. His eyes gleamed with calculating interest. “What an army you would make,” he said. “Benedict, think how we could push back the borders of the Empty Lands with their help.”
“I can think of more than one way in which they might benefit us, depending on how many of them there are,” Benedict said. “He is not large, is he?”
“He is a true were-creature, so his mass is conserved when he shifts,” Perrin said. “And he understands our speech in this form, so we should likely not refer to him as if he were not present.”
“My apologies,” Benedict said.
Swift extended both front paws and executed a perfect bow that made Sienne smile. It hurt the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t imagine having much to smile about in the coming weeks.
“Was this the rest of your job?” Papa said. “You brought this�
��this werebear here to meet the king?”
Sienne nodded. Even that was painful. “The werebears came to us for help in gaining recognition as citizens, and as people. We agreed to help them.”
“But…why you?” Mother asked. She still hovered behind Sienne as if afraid Swift, who’d now transformed back into human, might lunge for her at any moment.
“Because we have—had a reputation for honor, and because they thought if anyone could get them in to see the king, we could.” Sienne closed her eyes. “Is it all right if I say goodbye before we leave? I don’t think I can bear much more of this.”
“Sienne,” Papa said, “why did Derekian turn you down?”
“He didn’t. He let me choose. The werebears, or myself. Please. I’m so tired.”
Papa and Mother looked at each other. “Derekian,” Papa said, “thank you for your time.”
“Pontus. Clarie. I hope this signals the end of your inheritance troubles,” Derekian said, walking over to join their group.
“It doesn’t,” Papa said. “We still don’t have a suitable heir.”
Sienne, struggling to keep her tears in check, was shocked into staring at him. “What?”
“On the contrary. I think Sienne will make a fine duchess one day,” Derekian said.
“I disagree,” Papa said. “She doesn’t know the first thing about ruling a dukedom, and she’s too easily angered. She’ll make rash decisions. She doesn’t understand the law. She’s a poor choice.”
Derekian’s eyebrows went up. “She’s bright, and she’ll have you to instruct her. I see no problem that cannot be resolved.”
“But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s far better suited to the life she has,” Mother interjected. “You would never have known about the werebears if not for her. She and her friends saved your life. I’m sure there are dozens of other events we don’t know about. We have six other children, all of whom are just as capable of learning to rule a dukedom as Sienne, but none of them are going to continue to serve the kingdom as directly as she has.”
Shifting Loyalties Page 28