Innocent Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 2)

by R. J. Vickers

  “I’ll think about it.” I swirled the dregs of my hot chocolate in my mug. “Mother, do you still trust me? Or have I botched my rule so badly you would prefer Leoth to take the throne in my stead?”

  “I think you have been trying very hard, darling. You have walked into a volatile situation and have been holding on as best you can.” She glanced behind her, though the room was still empty, and lowered her voice. “Say nothing of this to your father. He always lusted after praise from his people, and while that led him to become a popular king, it also meant he lost his way completely whenever he fell out of favor. Just after your birth, for instance. If he had to face what you are dealing with right now, I think he would have crumbled under the pressure. You, however, are practiced at keeping your head high and pushing on regardless of what comes your way.”

  Mother’s words warmed me. “Thank you. I really have been pushing for the new laws, but it’s as though my holden monarchs have agreed behind my back to vote against everything I propose. They were only too happy to agree to the Great Southern Road when Leoth advocated for it.”

  “I know. I trust you will win them over eventually, however. You managed to gather enough votes to take the throne.”

  Through bribery and luck. I forced a smile.

  I had just selected a dainty little cake topped with a sliver of apple when someone knocked at the door.

  “Enter,” Mother called out.

  Quendon stepped into the sitting-room, still dressed in traveling clothes. “I was told I would find you here, Your Majesty. I would like to speak with you in private, if I may.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Thank you for tea, Mother.” It was a relief to escape the too-quiet room, the weight of her expectations. As I hastened to the door, I popped the miniature cake into my mouth.

  “I’ve just gotten back,” Quendon said softly, leading me away from the sitting-room.

  I managed to swallow the cake. “And?”

  “We captured five men from a small band of marauders. Most of the other bands were too large for us to confront without backup. We saw at least seven, Your Majesty. They have started enforcing the Truthbringers’ will throughout Baylore Valley.”

  This was getting out of hand. “I need to speak with the prisoners. Where are they?”

  “We’re holding them down in the cellars, Your Majesty. It’s not a proper cell, but if we bring backup, we can restrain them while you speak with them.”

  “Fetch the other guards who traveled with you. I don’t want word of this spreading. The Truthbringers might take this as an attack directly against them.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Quendon paused. “The other guards are downstairs, watching over the prisoners. Do you want to talk to them now?”

  “Please.”

  Quendon led me down the familiar staircase to the servants’ wing. I had of course ventured down here numerous times while sneaking into the city, but only one servant knew as much.

  Down another flight of stairs, we reached the usual lighted passageway leading toward the servants’ gate. Quendon turned off this almost immediately, leading me down toward a small patch of light at the end of a dark hallway. It occurred to me suddenly that Quendon could be an assassin, and I had been a fool to venture down here without telling anyone where I was headed. The air was stale and heavy, the corridor thick with the smell of dust and something fermented. I walked two paces behind Quendon, wishing I had some way of defending myself if it came to that.

  Then we reached the end of the dark hallway, and a pair of Weavers’ lamps threw light over the faces of a group of familiar guards. All bowed when they recognized me, and some of my fear dissipated. These were long-serving Reycoran family guards, and if they intended to assassinate me, they’d had more than enough opportunities to do so before now.

  “Your Majesty,” said a woman with black hair tied back in a tail. “We didn’t expect you to come in person.” She, like her companions, still wore a travel-stained cloak and muddy boots. They must have arrived just minutes before.

  “I need to keep this quiet. I don’t know if these marauders are taking orders from the Truthbringers or acting independently—if they are working for the Truthbringers, this might be seen as a direct strike against them. That would not sit well with the townspeople.”

  Quendon nodded. “I think you’re right, Your Majesty. And these horsemen were not just rogue gangs. They had the full support of the villages they worked near, and openly boasted of their attacks at taverns each night. At Pelek—which is where these men patrolled—we were forced to show our wrists for any mark of forbidden blood before we were allowed to stay at the inn.”

  I remembered how the people of Ambervale had suddenly taken up arms against me. Had they been goaded into action by the Truthbringers? Was that what the Truthbringers were doing—traveling around the countryside, gathering support, and encouraging violence against the forbidden races?

  “I need to speak with them. Separate whichever man seems weakest of will from the others and bring him into a different room for questioning.”

  “At once, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said.

  As soon as they unlocked the heavy wood door to the store room, the men within began shouting curses and threats. My guards moved swiftly, and I could hear a man’s boots scraping across the stone floor before he emerged into the hallway. Two of my guards hauled him into the hallway and through another door that hung open, and I followed them through. Anger pooled in my stomach—this man had tortured and killed countless innocents. People like Ornan, with no one to turn to.

  Once the first door slammed shut behind us, several of my guards joined us, illuminating this storeroom with one of the Weavers’ lamps. Stacks of barrels lined the walls of this storeroom, and the smell of fermentation intensified as we stepped inside.

  The man who stood before me was scrawny and sharp-faced, his cheeks smeared with dirt, his lip split and bloodied. His pitiful appearance did not dim my anger.

  “Whadda you want with me?” he said, voice raspy. “Who the tanner’s head are you?”

  I pinned him with my furious stare. “I am Queen Kalleah.”

  The man flinched away from me.

  “And you have been attacking innocent villagers,” I said coldly, biting back the urge to strike at him. “This sort of rampant violence is unlawful within Itrea.”

  The man whimpered. “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you? They say you’re the Destroyer come back to smite us.”

  “I am no such thing. However, I do not forgive those who harm innocents. If you wish to avoid a gruesome death, you will answer my questions.”

  He whimpered again.

  “Who are you working for? Have the Truthbringers put you up to this?”

  “No, th-they—” He gulped and tugged at the two guards restraining him. Both were far more solid than he, so he barely moved. “They came ’round a few spans back. Maybe even a year. Said this country’s gone rotten on the inside ’cause of the demon-spawn.” He cleared his throat, a strangled sound. “The forbidden races, like. Said if we got to ridding our towns of ’em, Varos would save us from their evil.”

  “Varos.” I stared flatly at him. “Do you believe in the Whitish gods?”

  “I didn’t know nothin’ about them ’til the Truthbringers came ’round. But them Truthbringers, they’re from Tabansville. The folks up there still follow them Whitish gods, and Varos rewards ’em with boun’iful harvests and pure water and lots o’ children. We’ve had a few years o’ bad harvests, prolly ’cause Varos don’t like them forbidden races ruinin’ the land. Makes a lot o’ sense, see.”

  “And you thought this was justification for brutal murders.”

  “It’s the only way, see.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Had to get rid of ’em somehow.”

  He spoke of it so casually. My hands curled into fists at my side, my pulse hammering in my ears. If I could, I would strangle him now. No—I would sit in this room with him and dr
ain his life force away.

  It took a great effort to drag my thoughts back to the interrogation. He had said the Truthbringers were from Tabansville…where was that? I thought it was on the coast, north of Larkhaven. If only Baridya were here; she might know if the Truthbringers’ claims were accurate. “How many of you are there?”

  “There’s five of us.”

  “No,” I snapped, “I was referring to groups like you. How many of you are out there trying to round up the forbidden races?”

  “I dunno, do I? Most of ’em don’t go ’round much. We was in Pelek, and we saw two other groups comin’ by a few times.”

  “Does everyone in Pelek agree with what you’re doing, or do you have to keep your work hushed up?”

  “Nah, we’re real popular. Everyone thinks them Truthbringers had the right idea, y’know?”

  Varse-damned bastards. “I see. Thank you for speaking with me. I will spare your life—as long as you continue to obey my orders.”

  The man nodded quickly, his shoulders rounding.

  “Keep him here for now.” I figured he was less likely to rebel if he remained isolated and afraid. “Quendon, come with me. I have a few more questions I want to ask you.”

  Leaving the other guards watching the prisoners, Quendon and I started back toward the stairs. Even now, I felt the overwhelming urge to punch something.

  “There are a few things we heard that I think you’d like to know,” Quendon said as we turned into the lighted main passageway.

  “Such as?”

  “We might want to speak in private, Your Majesty. I don’t know how much of this information is sensitive.”

  “I see.”

  We hurried up the stairway into the servants’ level of the Cheltish wing, and from there up the next flight of stairs onto the level where the king’s study lay. I really should claim it for myself now—the private office in my suite was not an appropriate place to take visitors.

  With any luck, it would be vacant now. I pushed open the door without knocking, and my heart sank when I saw my father writing something at the desk.

  “Kalleah,” he said when he saw me. “And Quendon—what are you dressed that way for?”

  My parents would discover what I had done eventually, so I may as well tell them the truth now. “We have received reports of violent gangs attacking the forbidden races all around Baylore Valley. I sent Quendon with a small force to see if he could stop them.”

  My father let out a breath through his teeth. “I see. Quendon, would you please fetch Ammeline? We would both appreciate a full report.”

  With a bow, Quendon retreated.

  “Once again, you act behind our backs,” my father said quietly. “What do you hope to achieve by this?”

  “I intend to protect my people. Especially if no one else will. The forbidden races have as much right to live outside the city as anyone else.”

  “So you risk the stability of your kingdom to protect those most hated by your detractors.”

  “I will not apologize for what I have done. It was right, and I don’t care what my detractors say. Why am I sitting this throne if not to protect those who the Truthbringers seek to destroy? And if I start allowing them to get away with this, how long before they turn on the rest of the magic races?”

  “Kalleah, that is—”

  “Oh, and Father, I will require the use of the king’s study from now on. I believe there are several vacant rooms on this floor you can use for your new study.”

  His reply was cut off by the arrival of Mother and Quendon. I felt a twinge of guilt at forcing my father from his study, but in truth, I should have taken it over when I first stepped into power. If even my own parents kept seeking to undermine me, I had to fight back. I had to claim every aspect of my rule.

  “What is this about?” Mother asked, taking a seat beside me.

  I sat as well, though it made me feel inferior to Father in his high-backed wood chair. “Quendon has a report for us on recent events outside Baylore. After receiving word that roving horsemen were attacking the forbidden races around Baylore Valley, I sent Quendon with a force to see if they could stop the violence.”

  Mother threw me a sideways glance—all of us except my father knew it was Ornan who had brought word of the attacks. “I see. And what has come of it?”

  “Quendon captured five of the men responsible, but he learned the problem is much worse than we first suspected. And apparently he has other news to share.”

  Quendon inclined his head. “I do, Your Majesty. We traveled as far as Valleywall—though we didn’t find any signs of the horsemen past the Elygian River—and when we stayed for the night, we heard interesting things. Valleywall is responsible for the finest metalworking in Itrea, and their smiths trade constantly with Baylore and Larkhaven. Apparently, though, trade with Larkhaven has all but stopped. Communication from the coast has cut off, and a few merchants who were due to return haven’t arrived. The supply of goods from the coast has dried up as well—they’re running low on salted fish and wool and even wood.”

  “That is deeply concerning,” my father said. “Many thanks for bringing word. You may wait outside, and we will summon you if we have further questions.”

  Once again, my father acted as though he were king. I clenched my skirts, shoving down anger. Quendon’s report was concerning. I had to focus on that.

  “Perhaps you made the right decision after all,” my father said once Quendon was gone. “I hate to think how long it would have taken for this news to reach us otherwise.”

  “Do you think Larkhaven has broken away without telling us?” I asked. “Why would they do that? I thought they promised to wait until I had a chance to negotiate with them.”

  “I was surprised when you chose to send Leoth to begin work on the Great Southern Road,” my father said. “We may need to consider the possibility that Leoth has betrayed us. He could have sent word to Larkhaven ahead of our emissary, and who can guess what lies he might have told the governor?”

  8

  The Truthbringers’ Plan

  N ot again. My father said something else, but his voice seemed muffled. Reeling, I dredged up everything Leoth had said about the Great Southern Road. I had believed him. After everything, I had still believed him. He had acted differently when we discussed the project—serious, straightforward, the mocking tone and cruel smile gone.

  What if the whole thing had been a setup from the start? We rarely communicated with King’s Port—Ricardin might have been a pretender, dressing as flamboyantly as he did to match our expectations of a pirate town’s fashion. Had the entire proposal been designed to rip Larkhaven from Itrea?

  But that didn’t make sense. Leoth had indicated he would use any means necessary to keep the country together if he took the throne. Surely he was not so vengeful he would destroy our nation simply to punish me. Unless he had been lying about that as well. And if the Truthbringers were involved, why the plagues did they want to destroy Baylore’s major trade route? If they sought to gain power, surely they preferred to control a functioning economy, not one crippled by the loss of our only port. It made no sense.

  “Kalleah?” my father said.

  I blinked, realizing he had asked me something. “Pardon?”

  “I asked if you knew anything more about this. Did you ever speak with Leoth or Ricardin about the Great Southern Road project in private?”

  I had, but I had learned nothing useful from it. I shook my head.

  “It seems unlikely, but there is a chance both knew from the start that Larkhaven would react poorly to the project. The whole thing could be nothing but a farce. Leoth and Ricardin might be in Larkhaven now, setting up a new capital to rule the coast. If Leoth pretended to negotiate with Larkhaven on your behalf, he could convince them you sought to destroy their city by undercutting their trade.”

  I gripped the seat of my chair, pulse racing. I had no idea what to believe, who to trust. If Ricardin had betrayed
me as well, who would turn on me next? Baridya? Deance? Cal?

  No. I had to trust my friends.

  But Leoth…I had been a fool to send him away. I needed him close, where I could keep an eye on him. Even after his first betrayal, I had trusted him with the wellbeing of our kingdom. I was a fool.

  “We are lucky no one else knows of this yet,” Mother said.

  “Indeed,” my father said. “There are two courses of action we must take now, before word spreads. First, I must speak with my brother. Olleack is not an accomplished liar—if I question him in a roundabout way, without letting him know what we learned, he might let something slip. And after that, I should travel back to Larkhaven to see if I can remedy the situation. It might be a simple misunderstanding, or a road blockage that has slowed trade. We must keep this quiet until we know what is happening. I will take an armed force and a few messengers with me, so I can send word as soon as I arrive. The messengers take just a few days to travel from Larkhaven to Baylore, far faster than any merchant caravan.”

  “Good,” I said slowly. For once, I was very happy to let my father take over. He was clear-headed in a crisis, and thankfully did not know the extent of my relationship with Leoth. He didn’t realize I had already been betrayed by my rival. “And what should we do in the meantime?”

  “We need to manage the situation regarding the recent murder,” Mother said. “If you insist on keeping Calden by your side, you must convince the city he is not guilty. Put him under constant guard, night and day. Tell him to refrain from using his power until the situation has calmed down.”

  “Ammeline mentioned you might hold small gatherings among the courtiers as well,” my father said. “I think this is a wise plan. When people have only rumors to go on, they can quickly turn you into a monster. But once they have a chance to interact with you, they will realize you are as human as anyone else, and merely trying to do an effective job. A touch of spectacle never goes astray either. Surprise and delight each group with what you arrange, and courtiers will be lining up to participate in the next gathering.”