The Fiery Crown

by Jeffe Kennedy

  Her use of my name and Lia’s title had penetrated. I put a mental finger on my running tally and sat back on my heels. The four of them stood nearby, watching me—all standing in the ocean, as it were. Lia saw me take note of it and we shared a knowing glance. Odd, to have a shared thought with her the others wouldn’t follow. Kind of nice, too. “These towns.” I gestured to one near my knee. “The numbers of buildings are accurate?”

  Lia dipped her chin. “Everything is as accurate and current as the map guild can make it.”

  “Not absolutely everything,” I noted.

  A secret smile ghosted over her lips. “Everything I allow,” she corrected.

  “And Anure knows about the reef,” I continued.

  “If he didn’t know everything before, we must assume he does now,” Lia conceded.

  Kara folded his hands behind his back, standing at attention, old habits from the days he’d served as commander of Soensen’s navy, the finest in all the scattered kingdoms, and not a ragtag fleet of fishing boats sailed by ex-convicts and starving refugees. “Her Highness has promised me charts of the tides and channels. I’d like to take out a boat and see it for myself, too.”

  I nodded permission, somewhat absently, surprised that Kara hadn’t seen what I had—that the map contained everything he’d need to know. But we all had our own ways of doing things, and I’d learned early on to respect that in my commanders. They might call me Conrí, but we had no true hierarchy. We were all on our own personal crusades, which just happened to be pointed in the same direction.

  “Learn everything you can,” I agreed, “but we’re not letting Anure come to this harbor.”

  “‘Let’?” Lia echoed in a mocking tone. She clicked over to me, not picking up her heels this time, until she stood squarely in the harbor, hands planted on her hips so the long nails arrowed down. “You’ve been going on about Anure’s unstoppable forces and vast supplies of vurgsten.”

  “It’s true,” Sondra agreed, following with more tentative steps. “The emperor began stockpiling vurgsten before we were ever sentenced to the mines. Ejarat only knows how much of it he has at his citadel at Yekpehr—except that we can be sure it will be several factors more than what we have. And I’ll remind you that we don’t even have all of ours with us. We left a lot of it back at Keiost, and that’s not including what the supply trains from Vurgmun will have been delivering during our absence.”

  “You have an active supply train from the mines at Vurgmun?” Lia asked, betraying her surprise.

  “Yes,” I told her, getting to my feet so I wouldn’t be tempted to slide a hand under her shimmering skirt, to touch her beneath as the constant craving for her whispered I should. “Vurgmun is ours. I executed anyone not loyal to our cause, and the mines are worked by free people, sending vurgsten to us so we can take Anure down. The vengeance of many more people than you see fuels our efforts.”

  “That’s why we need ships, Your Highness,” Sondra said, clearly continuing an earlier conversation. “The fastest your people have, to ferry vurgsten here.”

  Lia considered that, thoughts opaque behind eyes more gray than blue now. “The Lady Sondra says that Anure could use vurgsten to destroy the barrier reef in a moment, then sail into the harbor and destroy the city and palace without setting foot on shore.”

  I met Sondra’s eyes, nodded to confirm that had been my assessment, too. We’d always seen strategy much the same way. Of course, we were both terribly familiar with Anure and his tactics, far more than we’d ever cared to be. “He could. Would, if we let him. Though he’d make sure to extract the queen first.”

  Sondra followed the thought. “Stealth team to infiltrate and abduct?”

  “That’s what I figure.”

  Lia’s sharp gaze flicked between us. “I’m not so easy to abduct,” she reminded me, “nor is Calanthe easy to infiltrate.”

  “Even with wizards?” I asked pointedly.

  Her eyes glittered. “Wizards are not infallible.”

  “We are ineffable, though,” Ambrose noted cheerfully.

  “See?” She nodded at the wizard. “You had one and I defeated you.”

  “I know a few things now I didn’t then,” Ambrose pointed out.

  “Yes, Anure might have the information he needs to work around those obstacles,” I added, regretting my words when she averted her gaze to look out the open arches. She wouldn’t betray her wounded heart by flinching, but this thing with Tertulyn had definitely gotten to her.

  “Let’s assume he does,” she confirmed quietly.

  Sondra raised a brow, but I shook my head slightly. I’d explain later, when Lia didn’t have to listen. “We can’t stop Anure from coming to Calanthe,” I said, working the problem aloud, pacing along the coastline away from the palace. “But we can keep him from approaching the harbor and palace. There’s too much here to risk that kind of barrage. Too much exposure. Too much potential bloodshed.” I glanced at Lia to find her watching me again, with arrested attention. At least I could give her that.

  “How will you turn him away?” Kara wanted to know, brow furrowed as he, too, studied the map.

  “Lead,” I corrected. “Not push, but pull. We’ll lure him away from here and to a battleground of our choosing. Into an ideal trap. Elsewhere.”

  “No,” Lia said with clear certainty. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I paced over to her, close enough that she had to raise her chin to keep her basilisk glare fixed on me. “If he knows your secrets,” I said quietly, “knows everything Tertulyn knows, then you play into their hands by remaining here.”

  “Nevertheless,” she persisted, “I am the queen. I can’t rule if I’m not at court.”

  “Can’t you?” I let the challenge dangle between us. “Even if it means reducing blood shed in violence?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, fully aware of my manipulation and yet without a ready reply.

  “Calanthe is more than the palace,” I offered, appealing to her reason. “What kind of queen needs a building to govern her realm?”

  With a wry twist of her lips, she sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

  Good enough. I’d win this particular battle between us. When we needed her to move, I’d make sure she did. I might be using her as bait, but I’d do everything in my power to avoid destroying her in the process. Except jeopardize the final goal.

  If it came down to that, I’d have to make sure that I’d have the backbone to sacrifice Lia, too. The trick in dealing with Anure lay in not caring about anything. He’d have no power over me as long as I cared about nothing more than destroying him. Sondra was watching me with a concerned expression, as if she knew my doubts.

  “We just need to find the right place,” I mused aloud ignoring Sondra and focusing on the problem, “and, yes, use Lia’s presence to draw him there.”

  “There’s a major weakness to your plan, Conrí,” Sondra said, then turned to Lia. “Are you certain you’re up to being bait, Your Highness? It sounds easy in theory, but that kind of thing takes a lot of fortitude and you won’t be able to change your mind like you change your gowns.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” Lia replied with enough chill that I figured most courtiers would have detected the warning and backed down. Not Sondra.

  She looked Lia up and down, lip curling. “You haven’t had to suffer at all, or learn to endure much, living here. If you break under the pressure, it could destroy us all.” Sondra looked to me in appeal, that doubt still in her eyes. “She’s a weak link, Conrí.”

  “Lia is the cornerstone of this plan because she is the one Anure will compromise his strategy for. We don’t have a choice here. I’ll protect Lia. She won’t be in a position to break.”

  “But if she—”

  “I can protect Myself.” Lia interrupted Sondra’s argument with cold precision. “My people will be My bulwark. If My pretending to be bait plays into a workable strategy to protect Calanthe from the emperor without und
ue bloodshed, then I’ll play My part. As Conrí notes, I have no choice.” She fixed Lady Sondra with an unflinching stare, then flicked a glance at me. “I’ve endured more than you know. Either of you. It’s not in Me to break.”

  “Enough arguing,” I said, my eyes going to the map. “It’s all guesswork until we find the right place.”

  “But where?” Kara asked, pacing alongside me, carefully still in the ocean. “These are small fishing villages. They’d be even more quickly decimated and invaded by Anure’s might. I’ve seen what he does to places like this.” His voice had gone even rougher as old ghosts swam up to haunt him. “Conrí, we can’t—”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. I needed him in the present—and for Lia not to be frightened any more than she already was. She’d heard, of course, given her keen attention on our conversation and on where in her realm I walked. Lia would know every detail about those fishing villages, and likely every person, plant, and animal in them—and in the waters, too. I’d like to ask her to identify what I sought, but she’d be too close, too connected to see what I needed.

  I’d discovered this over and over when dealing with locals sympathetic to our cause. As much as they tried to be objective, they loved their homes—or some aspect of them—too much to sacrifice what they needed to in order to win. And Anure had an uncanny knack for knowing what people cared about, ruthlessly using that against them. Maybe the emptiness in his soul made him sensitive to what lay at the center of other people, I didn’t know, but we’d won as much as we had so far in part by outsmarting him in this. He predicted what we’d try to protect; we stopped the locals from saving it, and circled behind Anure’s forces.

  I, of course, had nothing left I cared about, so that made it easy for me to throw tasty morsels into Anure’s maw to chew and hopefully choke on while I cut his throat from behind. Lia’s problem was that she cared too much about all of it. If I asked her what part of Calanthe she’d serve up to occupy Anure, she’d refuse any piece of it.

  So, I’d do it for her. She’d asked for my brutality and ruthlessness in service of her realm. I’d give her exactly that. Still, I found I couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

  Kneeling down again, I followed the lines of currents with a fingertip. “I need more time to study the map,” I told them. “You all have things to do—go do them.”

  Sondra sighed gustily. “Every time. Told you so.”

  “I’ll have food sent up,” Lia said.

  I ignored them both and focused on solving the problem. That kept me from thinking about anything else.

  6

  The excruciatingly long day over at last, and even later than usual, I nearly dragged myself to my chambers. After leaving Con in the tower, I’d made countless decisions, been in one meeting after another, placing ships under Kara’s command, cajoling shipmasters into giving up their charts, and soothing anxious courtiers who caught wind of the discussions. Being queen isn’t all issuing commands and expecting obedience. I only wished.

  Every moment of the extremes of the day radiated up from my blazing feet through my aching spine to lodge in a fireball at the base of my neck. As soon as Nahua—most junior of my ladies and therefore last in my escort—shut the doors, I collapsed onto a chair. The gown and its accoutrements could go hang now. I was ready to be divested of my armor. I might have lost Tertulyn, but Calla and my other ladies had been serving me for long enough to be familiar with the evening routine.

  Orvyki unpinned the crown without a word, setting it in its niche. Zariah steadied the wig, then worked to detach the glue that held it in place on my scalp. Nahua snipped the major laces holding the gown in place, relieving some of the constriction. Calla pulled the shoes from my feet, and the stockings with them, while Ibolya removed the silk sheaths on my arms and all of my jewelry, but for the orchid ring, of course. They worked rapidly and with quiet efficiency—and without any of the ritual or chatter of the morning dressing.

  They lifted me gently to my feet to remove the gown, and it seemed we all let out a long breath when they cut the laces of my corset. It would be some time yet before my ladies could divest themselves of their own formal gear—unfair, as they dressed before I did and so stayed in theirs longer. A colder woman than I would be unsympathetic and say it was their own fault, that they needn’t dress as formally as I did, but I knew their positions and reputations at court depended heavily on their keeping up proper appearances. As their queen did, so must they do.

  Calla slipped the dressing gown over my naked body, easing me to sit again, and Ibolya pressed a glass of brandy into my hand. I sipped, savoring the burn as it hit my jangling bloodstream, soothing my nerves and relieving some of the pressure at the base of my skull. Removing the wig and crown had helped with that, too, and the cool evening breezes on my bare scalp felt delicious after my sweltering costume. Zariah and Nahua worked on each side of me, using cotton soaked in solvent to remove the glue, then following with a honeysuckle-scented salve. Calla soaked off the jewels from my face, and the fake eyelashes, while Ibolya and Orvyki did the same with my nails.

  The other three worked efficiently tidying my discarded gown, putting away the jewels and wig while Calla and Ibolya removed the last dregs of makeup from my face and exposed skin. The alcohol in their tinctures cooled my skin even more, and the pleasingly redolent lotion followed with luscious salving. They’d already set out the letter of thanks I’d give the Glory in the morning, so I signed that. Everything else could wait until the following day.

  I was beyond ready to be done with this one.

  “Will there be anything else, Your Highness?” Calla asked, and I opened my eyes to see the five of them in formation before me, Calla at the point of their triangle. Since I’d accepted that Tertulyn had gone forever, I supposed I should add another lady to ease their burden and bring their complement back up to six, but that could go on the list for tomorrow, also. Perhaps the day after.

  “No. Thank you, all, for your exacting care,” I replied. “You may be excused.”

  They smiled, still deferential, but their relieved delight at imminent freedom showed through. Some would retire, some would visit the Night Court, some would indulge in other recreations. They all curtsied—except Ibolya, who hesitated. “Would You like one of us to stay and keep You company, Your Highness?”

  She asked because Tertulyn would have stayed, I realized. To discuss the day, or to offer me relaxation before I slept. It hadn’t been a question since my wedding to Con, because he’d been there when I retired, ready to resume our exploration of the aspect of our marriage that actually worked.

  It was a mark of my exhaustion and distraction that I hadn’t made note of his absence. But he wasn’t near, I realized. True, I couldn’t sense Con specifically, but he made such a dense impact on the environment—everyone else noticed him—that I could usually find him fairly quickly. Not this time. “Where is Conrí?” I asked.

  Calla threw Ibolya a look, a reprimand for calling my attention to Con’s absence. As if I wouldn’t have noticed my empty bed.

  He hadn’t attended court when I convened it again—no surprise there—nor had he shown his face for my various meetings and appearances, nor for formal dinner or the meetings after. None of that had been unusual. Still, he’d been so determined to talk battle strategy, I’d expected him to confront me at any moment with more demands and questions. I’d found myself a little disappointed not to be able to use some of the tart remarks I’d prepared, and then I’d gotten caught up in the whirl of all the pressing matters that needed my attention.

  Still, he’d promised to attend me if he didn’t have more important things to do, and I’d believed him. Besides, he’d insisted from the beginning on sharing my bed and chambers, and no matter how things stood between us politically, he’d been prompt and enthusiastic about those marital duties.

  What could be absorbing his attention? Surely not the map still.

  I cast about with my mind, finding a passing bat. I
t flew closer to the map tower for me, confirming that it blazed with torchlight, and the large, dark form of a man crawled on the floor within. “He’s still in the map tower?”

  Good Sawehl—Con had been at his task for more than half the cycle of day and night. No wonder Sondra had commented so drily on Con’s tenacity when invested in study.

  “We’ve kept Conrí supplied with food and drink, Your Highness, as ordered,” Calla said in a soothing tone. “And he has attendants to see to his needs. You can rest easy.”

  I should let it go. Confirm to my ladies that they were dismissed, leave Con to his obsessions, and get the sleep I needed. I knew, however, that I wouldn’t rest easy without him there. Such a short time for me to become accustomed to his presence—and to the passionate release I found in his arms. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to burning away the accumulated tension of the day in the fires of sexual abandon.

  I didn’t want it from any of my ladies. I wanted him. And I wanted the sweet release of being myself, the way I could be when we were naked and alone together. I’d come to depend on it, and I’d never sleep now.

  Ibolya watched me with alert readiness, Calla with wary exhaustion of her own. She’d taken on Tertulyn’s duties on top of her own and deserved the time off.

  If only I’d realized before they undressed me, I could have visited Con in the tower and coaxed—or commanded—him to come back with me. Too late for that.

  “Your Highness,” Ibolya said, stepping forward and breaking the precise line of their formation, “I’d be happy to stay and keep You company. Or if You prefer to visit Conrí, I will help You dress again.”

  The other ladies, even Calla, painted on bright and accommodating smiles, nodding and murmuring their agreement. They served me well, making the effort at enthusiasm. It would take at least an hour to dress me to my usual level, and then they’d have to wait up to undo it all yet again. Ibolya was good to offer herself, but it would take even longer for her to get me dressed without help.