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

by R. J. Vickers

  Act vulnerable. “Nor am I,” I forced myself to say, curtseying as the musicians began a slow melody. “If I were, I would surely have accomplished something by now. What are we—nearly three spans into my reign? My father had probably solved half the country’s problems in the first span after he took the throne.”

  “You overestimate your father, Your Majesty. And perhaps underestimate yourself. Your curfew has certainly proved effective. I am beginning to wonder whether you have spoken the truth all along.”

  We fell silent for a moment as the dance started. I was not as familiar with this one, so I had to concentrate to match my footwork to Morrisse’s. He was evidently practiced at leading, though, so I soon found the rhythm and allowed my attention to stray.

  “I still don’t understand why you are willing to speak with me now.”

  He gave me a broad smile. “Can you not guess what it was?”

  I shook my head.

  “You—the queen of Itrea—got your hands covered in dirt and potted a heap of bulbs. It startled me.”

  “I was merely saving you—the holden king of Itrea—from doing the same.”

  Morrisse chuckled. “Are you interested in gardening, then?”

  “I’m not too fussed about cultivating particular flowers, but I love the feel of the earth, the physical exertion of digging a new bed. When I was growing up, Mother and I grew most of our own food, and I always loved planting time. Any excuse to get outside.”

  “I feel the same way,” Morrisse said, and I sensed a new depth to his voice—this was something he cared about passionately. He was finally opening up to me. “Do you feel trapped here in the palace at times, Your Majesty? The rooftop garden is my only escape.”

  “Yes. That’s exactly how I feel. I was used to running around the hills and forests of Ambervale, free and unafraid. Now I can’t even venture into the city without getting attacked. I wish we had a garden like yours in the Cheltish wing. We have a rooftop courtyard, but it’s not the same. I wish we had trees and flowers and other living things to remind me of home.”

  “You can visit our garden whenever you want,” Morrisse said, his voice husky. “Do you still think of Ambervale as home, then?”

  I swallowed. This was a painful subject, but Leoth had suggested I allow myself to appear vulnerable. Oh, Leoth. “I don’t know. I don’t even feel like I have a home sometimes. Back in Ambervale, no one accepted us—they could tell we were different, even though they didn’t know who we were, and they were terrified of me. Mother always said things would be better once we reached Baylore. But it’s just the same. It’s the same everywhere I go. No one trusts me, because of what I am.”

  “I trust you,” Morrisse said. “Two spans ago, I never would have thought I would say that, but it’s true. You’ve proved over and over again that you only want what is best for Baylore.” His hand tightened on my waist, and his eyes caught mine, dark with passion.

  My breath caught in my throat—I had not expected to win him over this quickly. Was now the time to press for his support at the next Ilkayumsday vote? No, that would reveal my true motives. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all, and see if he voted for me regardless.

  “I don’t mean to be pry, Morrisse, but I do wonder—why have you never married? You are a holden king, a man of great passion, and handsome to boot. Surely you have dozens of women chasing after you.”

  His mouth tightened, and I worried I had said the wrong thing. “I have never spoken of this to anyone, Your Majesty.”

  “Please, no need for formality. You can call me Kalleah.”

  “Kalleah.” He spun me through the other dancing couples, farther from his family. “The woman I love more than anything is not a suitable match, and my parents threatened to disinherit me if I pursued her. I have vowed never to marry unless I can be with her.”

  “Oh, Morrisse!” I felt a sudden surge of affection for him. “You are the most honorable royal I have ever met. Are you still able to see the woman you love?”

  “No. Not for years.” His mouth tightened. “My father sent her to Larkhaven when he learned of my intentions. She does not have the money to arrange transport back here.” He missed a step, and gave me a nervous smile. “I hope you don’t mistake my intentions, Your Majesty. I find you very attractive, certainly, but—”

  “Don’t worry. I can never wed. My cursed power makes it impossible.”

  We finished the dance in silence. I feared I had pushed Morrisse too far, and he regretted revealing such deep secrets, but I needn’t have worried. When the song ended, he drew me close and whispered, “Will you meet me in the garden in three days’ time? Our Cloudmage expects it to be an unusually clear, warm day, perfect for planting.”

  “I would love nothing more.”

  We parted, but the warmth of Morrisse’s touch lingered. On my way back to Baridya and Mellicante, I glanced over my shoulder and saw him still watching me. Our conversation had affected me more than I expected—perhaps it was just the alcohol, but I truly did feel something for Morrisse. Not attraction or love, just warmth. What an odd couple we made, both unable to have the ones we truly desired.

  21

  The Traitor

  T wo days later, I entered the chamber of law to find the atmosphere much different than usual. Instead of hostile silence, my holden monarchs greeted me with nods and murmurs of respect—aside from Dennoric, of course. Morrisse gave me a warm smile, which sent guilt curling in my stomach.

  “I know I have already proposed this,” I said as I took a seat on the highest throne, “but I hope you might reconsider your decisions. The recent curfew has proved that my law enforces order and safety, while the Truthbringers’ control over Baylore results in violence and death. I propose once again that we ban Truthbringers from Baylore. Their rhetoric endangers all magic races, not just the forbidden races, and I do not want to progress further along the path of division.” I looked at Ellarie as I said this. “But I will not force this decision upon you. I have the terms of this proposal laid out clearly here, and I welcome your questions.”

  I passed the document first to Morrisse, who gave me a solemn nod. All but Dennoric read the proposal through in silence, and when Ellarie passed the parchment back to me, I could see uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Are there any questions?” the Lord Chancellor asked.

  No one spoke.

  “In that case, please raise your hand if you oppose this measure.”

  Dennoric raised his hand at once, but Pollard and Ellarie were much slower to follow suit. Morrisse smiled at me and did not move.

  “Excellent,” the Lord Chancellor said. “The law has been passed. Do you have any further proposals today, Your Majesty?”

  “No, no,” I said faintly.

  I couldn’t believe it. We were finally taking decisive action against the Truthbringers. With any luck, this would mean the end of the string of violence and prejudice in Baylore—we would be able to ease the curfew and relax the patrols, and the city would return to normal. I might have a chance at ruling properly after all.

  As the holden monarchs took their leave, I followed the Lord Chancellor to the throne room to witness the reaction to his announcement. Dennoric stalked past, looking furious, but to my surprise, Morrisse trailed along after us.

  A great number of people had assembled to hear the day’s announcement. Many had come from the town, and their whispers and mutters were tinged with suspicion. I held myself tall—they would soon have no basis for their hatred. The Truthbringers and their cruel teachings would be gone.

  “Citizens of Itrea,” the Lord Chancellor began, stepping onto the dais at the front of the room. I sank onto my throne, while Morrisse took the smaller throne to my left. “We have passed a monumental law today. Henceforth, Truthbringers are banned from the city of Baylore and may not spread their teachings within these walls. If any Truthbringers choose to renounce their position, they will be accepted within the city, but if not, they will b
e thrown out.”

  Cries of anger and surprise resounded through the throne room.

  “Her Majesty Queen Kalleah Reycoran decided to enact this law following the success of her curfew and armed patrol. The recent murders and unrest are most likely perpetrated by the Truthbringers and their followers, so this law is intended to ensure the safety of all citizens.”

  The protests rang out once more, and the crowd shifted as a man pushed his way forward. My guards formed up around the dais, several drawing swords.

  “She’s a liar and a traitor!” the man shouted. As the crowd pulled aside, I realize he was dragging a man with a cloth tied over his mouth.

  Ornan.

  I went cold. Did this man know what Ornan was?

  “Arrest him!” I ordered my guards.

  They moved to surround the man, who continued to wrestle Ornan forward, but they were not fast enough to silence his next words.

  “This man is an Extractor!” The intruder shook Ornan, who did not resist. He sagged in the man’s grip, eyes foggy; I wondered if he had been drugged. “Do you see his uniform? He works for Queen Kalleah. Your queen has been harboring Extractors within her palace! Men she consorts with, promising power in exchange for killing innocents at her bidding.”

  As my guards grabbed the man’s arms and dragged Ornan away from him, I got a better look at his face. I stiffened—he was one of the guards I had stationed outside Wistin’s room. He was the traitor.

  “Take this man to the city cells!” I called out over the rising thunder of voices. “He has entered Baylore Palace unlawfully and seeks to undermine the government.”

  One of my guards stuffed a handkerchief in the man’s mouth, and another three marched him off, though the assembled townspeople grabbed at them and tried to block their way.

  “You can’t just arrest that man!” a white-haired man bellowed. “What if he’s telling the truth?”

  “Yeah! Prove he ain’t no Extractor, or we want justice!”

  As more shouts resounded through the throne room, the crowd began to push forward, heedless of the swords pointed their way.

  “Stay back!” I rose and gathered my skirts, preparing to flee before the crowd overwhelmed my guards. Morrisse remained seated, pale with shock.

  “Let’s see that man’s wrist, then,” a woman shouted. “We can see if he spoke the truth.”

  It would make no difference whether I allowed it or not—the townspeople would be convinced of my guilt either way. Ornan sought me out with his foggy eyes, and I nodded. Clumsily, he pulled up his left sleeve to reveal the X-shaped brand marking him as one of the forbidden races.

  A collective gasp passed through the hall.

  “It’s true!” a woman yelled. “Queen Kalleah has been harboring demons!”

  “That man who died in the palace,” Morrisse said softly, “the one who was found over a game of cards. Was that his doing?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m certain of it.”

  “Queen Kalleah didn’t know I was an Extractor,” Ornan mumbled, shaking his sleeve back down. “I snuck into the palace unaided.”

  “Liar!”

  “Murderer!”

  The throne room descended into chaos. The townspeople shoved their way forward, flailing fists at Ornan, and a towering, barrel-chested man slammed him to the ground.

  “Take him to the city cells,” I shouted over the roar of noise. I hoped he would be safe there.

  As my guards struggled forward, the townspeople began kicking Ornan; his yelps of pain rose over the shouting.

  Once the guards managed to pry the attackers off Ornan and haul him to his feet, the enraged mob turned on me.

  “She’s a monster!”

  “Demon!”

  “We can’t keep letting her get away with this!”

  A hand seized my wrist, and I flinched. But it was just the Lord Chancellor. He grabbed Morrisse as well and hauled us forward, until my guards were able to close around us as well as Ornan. Then, swords unsheathed, my guards shoved their way to the doors, hustling us along at the center of their tight knot. Ornan was barely conscious—I hoped he would be safe in the city cells. I had promised to protect him, and instead I had thrown him into a pit of snakes.

  When we reached the quiet of the entrance hall, I broke into a run, two guards at my heel. If my enemies had infiltrated the Cheltish wing, I didn’t know who they would attack next. I needed to make sure my supporters were safe…and I needed to deal with Wistin.

  22

  Ten Thousand Names

  B ack in the Cheltish wing, I asked Quendon to lead my guards in a search of the entire wing, including the servants’ quarters, and question any guard who had been employed for less than three spans.

  “Leave Wistin’s room out of it,” I said softly. “I need to speak with him myself.”

  I found Mother poring over trade agreements with Larkhaven in my study, and she frowned when I burst in on her.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Do you remember Ornan, the Extractor we granted sanctuary to?”

  Mother’s brows drew together. “Please do not tell me he has been discovered at the scene of a murder.”

  “No. But a guard just dragged him forward and announced to the entire assembly what he was. That guard had been working in our wing—our enemies must have planted him there. I’m afraid we have other spies among us.”

  Mother pushed the stack of papers aside and stood. “You’re right to worry. I can question the rest of our court and see if they have seen anything suspicious.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a sigh. “And I want to interrogate the guard as well. I’ve ordered him sent to the city cells for now, but we can bring him to the palace once this quiets down.”

  Mother nodded. “Yes, of course. That’s another thing—the disappearance of that nursemaid strikes me as suspicious. I wonder if that is related.”

  I froze. “Surely not.” My voice sounded strangled to me; I hoped Mother did not notice.

  “Anything unusual is worth investigating just now. And I hope you will do your part as well.”

  Before I could respond, Mother swept from the study. I remained glued in place for several more minutes, heart racing, breathing shallow.

  At last I wrenched myself away from the study. If I wanted to keep that awful secret hidden, I had to deal with Wistin now. I could not afford to delay. I needed to win his trust so I could get the truth out of him; if he was in league with the Truthbringers, he might know who my enemies were.

  While a dozen guards stumped around the Cheltish wing, wrenching open doors and interrogating anyone they found in public spaces, I slipped around the corner and hurried down the winding hall to Wistin’s room. The guards outside stepped aside and let me pass without question.

  Wistin was lying back on his bed, hands behind his head, but he sat up abruptly when he saw me.

  “Your Majesty! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to speak to someone,” I said softly, endeavoring to sound frightened and vulnerable. “Someone handed Ornan over to a crowd of angry townspeople just now, and I’m worried you might be next.”

  “Bloody Varse,” Wistin said, eyes widening. “What did they do?”

  “They—they attacked him. He was badly hurt, and now everyone thinks I was using him as an assassin.” I sank onto Ornan’s vacant bed, its cover bunched in one corner, and let my shoulders round forward. “I’m afraid, Wistin. I feel cornered. I don’t think I’m going to keep my throne much longer.”

  “Your Majesty—Kalleah—” Wistin smoothed his hair, eyes sorrowful. “I don’t know what to say. I wish I could do something to help.”

  “Just having someone to talk to is helpful. No one else understands what it’s like to have this accursed power. Even my mother has no sympathy for others like me.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, Your Majesty. Here I am, cowering in a windowless room, afraid to face my enemies, while you have to stand before th
em day after day.”

  “I don’t know if I still have the courage to do it. Should I step down, Wistin? Should I hand the throne to Prince Leoth?”

  “No,” he said with sudden vehemence. “Everyone knows Prince Leoth will give the Truthbringers free rein. I wouldn’t survive a minute on the streets once they take over.”

  I sniffed. “I know. But am I doing any better? Ornan was your friend, and I’ve failed him. I don’t even know if he’s going to live. He was badly injured when my guards took him away.”

  “Plagues. Ornan was such a kind man. He didn’t deserve this. But neither do you, Your Majesty.”

  I rubbed my eyes, trying to hide the questions racing through my mind. I could not figure Wistin out. He did not betray any sign of guilt or hidden motives; was someone else responsible for Misha’s death? I couldn’t hurt him before I knew for sure.

  “Is there anything I can do to ease your burden, Your Majesty?” His eyes were gentle, the corners of his mouth tight with concern.

  “I don’t know. Your presence eases my mind, though. Would you be willing to join me for dinner a few nights from now?”

  “Gladly, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you, Wistin. I’ll send a guard to fetch you when everything is prepared. And don’t worry. I promise to keep you safe.”

  My words tasted like ash on my tongue.

  * * *

  Several hours later, an urgent knock sounded at my door. I had been hiding out in my suite with Baridya, Deance, Cal, and Mellicante while guards searched the Cheltish wing; at the knock, we all scrambled to our feet and clustered around the door.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Saniya.”

  I yanked the door open so fast she jumped back a step. “Sorry,” I said. “But what are you doing here? Has something happened?”