Death's Queen (The Complete Series)

by Janeal Falor

  “Arrange to have everyone there, and I'll make it official.”

  “That's the problem—I can't arrange it now. No one will listen to me.”

  I growl in frustration and head for the door. There are too many skirts on me. The two guards still stand outside my door. “I want an audience with the most important people in this government,” I say. “Can you do that?”

  They look at each other. The one on my right says, “I don’t know.”

  “Find someone that can and make it happen.” I slam the door.

  Hopefully my furniture comes before the people do. I don't want to have a meeting in my bedroom, but I swear I won't sit in one of those chairs. It's like they purposefully gave me a room I'd be uncomfortable in.

  “May I make a suggestion?” Nash asks.

  “Only if you tell me your last name first.”

  “Will you tell me your name?”

  “I did tell you I don't have one.”

  “You were being serious?” His brows lift.

  “I was.”

  “What have people in your life called you?” He looks perplexed.

  If I wasn't so accustomed to it, I'd find it perplexing too. “Nothing, really. Sometimes girl. Nothing of any significance that I'd want to continue to be called.”

  “We should find you a name before the meeting.”

  “Is that what your suggestion was?”

  “No.”

  “Then tell me your last name, and you can make your suggestion.”

  “Zorris. It's Nash Zorris. And I most kindly advise that you use this meeting to understand the other members of government.”

  “I don't care about them.” I don't care about any of this. Mostly I want everyone to leave me alone.

  “I know. You can even let them know that, but I strongly recommend you start getting to know them. Some will be allies, but others will want you off the throne and they’ll do anything they can to make it so.”

  “They can have the throne. I don't want it.” I'm surprised I admitted that out loud, but it's more than true. If I'm going to trust someone, it may as well be this Nash.

  “The only way they can get you off the throne is if you're dead,” he says.

  I want to say that it doesn’t matter. Death would be welcome. That's why I got into this mess in the first place. Yet… someone tried to take my life, and I wouldn't let them. That has to mean that I care. Right?

  And there was something about that dream last night. Something that scared me, but at the same time I thought I should embrace. Something kind and loving. Something unlike anything I've ever felt before.

  I pace the room. Nash is thankfully silent.

  I don't know what to do.

  The pacing doesn't help. It only makes me feel more restless. What I want is to spar with someone. To fight. There's no room for that in here without moving furniture, though I do wonder if Nash would brawl with me. This is off topic and not very useful when I need to decide if I want to live or not.

  My life… it's not worth living. Not after what I've done—the blood I've spilled.

  Yet I can't bring myself to say I want to die. It shocks me. How did I come to this point?

  It doesn't matter. It’s what I need, and now that I want to live, I will cling to life.

  “What if I don't want them to kill me?” I ask.

  Nash crinkles his eyebrows together. “I'll protect you, and so will others. But this is exactly why you need to try to get to know the leaders in government. They can make or break you.”

  There's a knock on the door. I open my mouth to call out, but Nash puts up a hand to stop me. “Please. Allow me to answer it.”

  I nod, conceding to him in this. He does seem to know a lot more about how a queen should act than I do. It's not what I was trained in. What was he trained in, to know all this as a guard?

  He opens the door and speaks to someone I can't see. Once he closes the door again, he turns to me and says, “The council is ready for you.”

  And I am most certainly not ready for them.

  Chapter 12

  It's not an overly large room, but big enough to make me wary of all the people in it. About twenty men and women. I'm the youngest of the group.

  They bow as I enter. After I motion for them to rise, I want to ask Nash if this is truly the entire government. My training flares to life and I imitate them, holding my shoulders back and head high. Each of them seems like they have abundant ego to fill this palace. They remind me of my old master.

  But I don't want to think of him.

  Him forcing me in a tiny closet with glass jutting out on all sides, for hours at a time.

  Him forcing me to stab rats.

  Him tying me up until I freed myself, however long it took.

  I shake my head. I'd rather force myself to get familiarized with all of these men and women than think of him again. And that's what I'm going to do.

  I make my way to the chair Nash guides me to. Ranen sits on my right. Suck up. He should be out, finding my new chairs, instead of here. At least this chair doesn't look quite so torturous.

  As soon as I'm seated, everyone else takes a seat.

  Then they all look at me.

  What are they doing that for? Oh. I'm probably expected to lead this meeting? I motion to Nash. “This is the new Head Advisor, Nash. You will all treat him as such. If not, it will be off with your head.”

  There are several gasps throughout the room, but I don't catch who they come from. Ranen clutches at the arms on his chair, knuckles turning white.

  I should make sure he's put in his place. I motion to him. “This is my new furniture arranger. He will be going throughout the palace, making certain the furniture is comfortable.”

  There are a few more gasps but also a few titters. I refrain from smiling.

  Nash cuts in after that, and I'm grateful for his help. I don't know how to talk to these people, but he seems to. “The queen would like you each to state your name and tell her a bit about your position.”

  The man next to Ranen starts. “Your Majesty, I am your most humble of servants.” Yeah. Seems like it. The guy has a triple chin and sounds as if he thinks he's king of another country, voice pompous and commanding. “I am Timit of the most noble house of Alek. I am Head of the Treasury and at your service for whatever you may need.”

  I'm sure he does a great job of lining his pockets, if he’s the one responsible for all the taxes on all classes. Were those the last queen's idea, or some combination of the two? As a nation, we have lots of rich mines, but as a people, most are poor. Where is it all going? I’ll have to find out. Before I can think any more on it, the next person is introducing herself.

  “I am Yuka, Your Highness. I am Head of the Arts.” Her sleek black hair is pulled into an elaborate bun, letting her green eyes stand out.

  Is she the reason there are portraits of landscapes everywhere?

  “I'm Borkus, Your Highness, of the house of Prenton. Head of Design.” He has a wide forehead and bulging lips.

  “And what do you do?” I ask.

  “I am over the court's clothing. I set trends and styles.”

  There's someone I should fire. Too much poof and layers. A thin pair of slacks suits me fine. I focus on the next person. The thinnest man here, though filled with muscles.

  “I am Jaku, Head of the Guard, Your Majesty.” His voice is deep.

  “You're the one who has to answer for the attacks on my life,” I say.

  He hesitates. “Eh…yes. I suppose I am.”

  I purse my lips and tap them with a finger. I could rail at him for letting the assassins through, but perhaps it's best not to do that in front of others. When I turn my attention away from him, I see him out of the corner of my eye, letting out a great exhale.

  “I am Kada, Head of Relations with the Queen, Your Majesty.” Though she's sitting, she appears short, with her blonde hair barely reaching Jaku's shoulder.

  Another lackluster perf
ormance. There's been almost no communication between the palace government and me up until this point. And I called this meeting. What is it with these people? “Why have you not called a meeting sooner?”

  Her gaze darts to Ranen and back to me. “I… uh… thought you didn't want a meeting.”

  I didn't, but that’s not her or Ranen’s decision to make. “In the future, you will communicate directly with me or Nash,” I say.

  Kada gives an eager nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  I focus on the next councilwoman.

  “I am Monkia. Head of Staff, Your Highness,” the older woman with gray hairs blending with her dark hair says.

  “And I am Nidon, Your Majesty. Head of Food and Commerce.” His weight rivals that of the triple-chin man.

  Another person who needs to be replaced with someone who can better accomplish the job. Though the famine is over, food isn't properly distributed. I didn’t have enough on the streets, though that might be my own doing since I was avoiding taking care of myself properly.

  “Your Majesty, I am Sidle. Head of Military.” He reminds me of Daros—thick, yet there's the impression of hidden muscles.

  I'll be avoiding him.

  In the middle of the group at the other side of the room is a peaked woman with a fringe of red hair. “I'm Mina, Your Highness. Head of Foreign Relations.”

  The assistants come next, starting with Mina’s gawky male aide. The next person goes, and the next. All helpers in one way or another.

  I've been bored for some time. It's boring to listen to so many people talk and keep track of who belongs with what name and occupation. I always had a hard time concentrating when lecture time came. Hopefully Nash can give me a few pointers later that make more sense.

  A while later, the last person finishes. He is on the left, a ways from me.

  Nash looks at me like he expects something. They all do. Only problem is I have no idea what.

  “And your name, Your Majesty?” Yuka asks.

  A memory hits me so hard, I feel like I've been slapped—Daros telling me I'm worth nothing. Not even a name.

  “That's all for now,” I say, hoping it dissuades them from asking again. I could continue the meeting, but I’ve gotten more than I came for. “You're dismissed.”

  I stand, and they bow again. I leave, and Nash follows me out. Despite the steps forward I'm taking, I feel as lost and hopeless as ever.

  Chapter 13

  That night, as I ready for bed, I notice the sleeping gown the servants brought for me fits. I dismiss them and search my drawers. They're full to brimming. Someone—or several someones—must have worked overtime to get this accomplished.

  There are frills and fluff and too much volume. One dress could easily turn into five. Whoever picked out this wardrobe has no idea what I like.

  I sit on the bed. It's too soft. The floor would be better. Still, I don't move.

  Maybe if I lie down, I won't be able to fall asleep.

  No nightmares, then.

  I could go out and about again, but I'm too exhausted. What a day it's been…

  I give in and curl up on my side. I haven’t felt anything like it before. It's like being scooped up by a cloud. Last night, I slept the night sitting up against the headboard, too distraught to pay attention to the bed, but now it’s all I can think about.

  I toss and turn, grateful sleep isn't coming yet. If I hold off till I’m exhausted, I may be able to get some rest without horrid dreams.

  Not likely, but one can hope.

  I kick the covers off, and a cool breeze inches across my skin.

  The world is fuzzy again, like someone punched me in the head too hard. Only my head doesn't hurt. The haze goes away more quickly than last time, revealing the same lady in green.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “Who are you?” she responds.

  “I don't know.”

  “Then I'm not ready to tell you either.”

  “Why do you keep coming to my dreams?” Though this is only the second one, it seems to be a thing with her.

  “I’m better than nightmares. Am I not?”

  With a sigh, I sit, hovering on something I can't see. I take a look around for the first time. There's nothing here but the colors of a sunset, blurred together like a cloud. It's a dream world, for certain.

  “What do you know of my nightmares?” I ask.

  “I know they're violent and leave you awake more than they should,” she says. “And I know keeping you from sleep keeps us from talking. I need you to sleep more. We'll progress faster if you do.”

  I don't want to sleep. Besides, I was trained to only sleep a handful of hours. “Progress at what?”

  “Are you going to start sleeping more?”

  The nightmares come to mind, and I shudder. “I can't.”

  “Then that's what we'll work on first—getting you to sleep more.”

  “Why do my dreams suddenly want me to sleep more?” I ask, trying to figure out what my subconscious is telling me.

  “It's no trick.”

  I almost ask her how she knows what I'm thinking, but then I remember this isn't real. Of course my own mind knows what I'm thinking.

  “If you're not stronger, I won't be able to hold the nightmares off. That will cause problems for the two of us.”

  “You're holding off my nightmares?” I want it to be true, but how can my imagination do such a thing?

  “With a little bit of magic.”

  I gasp. “Magic? I thought it was extinct.”

  Why would my subconscious conjure that up?

  “It isn't gone. It's almost everywhere now, from what I gather. There's a little that controls this country, though. If you think long enough, you'll know what it is.”

  Why are my thoughts taking me here? I haven’t thought of magic before.

  “Maybe you should. After all, it governs your life now.”

  “You mean the chalice? The Mortum Tura?”

  “Very good. You're a quick learner,” she says. “The Mortum Tura has magic. Its influence will grow every time you drink it.”

  How do I know all this? I could be making it up.

  “But you're beginning to believe I'm something other than you, aren't you?”

  I don't need to answer that for her to know what's going on.

  “I knew you were a quick study.”

  “Do I want to drink the Mortum Tura as often as I can?”

  “Yes, but be careful. It's a lot to take in at once.” She grows fuzzy.

  “Wait. We were just getting into our conversation.”

  Her voice grows fainter. “Which is why you need to get more sleep.”

  She fades out altogether, joining the colors of the sunset.

  Chapter 14

  After last night, I could use some good news. Everything seems foggier this morning, but I still remember the strange dream. And the one before. It's the second time in a long while that I haven't had a nightmare. No blood. No screams. No tainted daggers. Just blissful silence.

  I should be grateful, but instead I'm worried. What is holding them back? And what if whatever it is stops and they return fiercer than ever?

  There's a knock on the door, and I wish Nash was here to answer it for me. My servants are gone. My fault for ordering them away, but they were bothering me with their constant pecking at me. There's no one to hide behind. Not that I ever needed to hide behind anyone.

  “Enter.”

  Nash strides in and closes the door behind him. I haven't seen him since I left the meeting yesterday. More like ran from it. He must have sensed my mood, because he left me at my rooms without a word.

  He sits in the chair he used before. “You did very well yesterday.”

  “Well? I can't remember a thing from it.”

  “We'll work on it. The important thing is you asserted your authority in front of all of them.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I'm nineteen.”

  �
��You talk like a forty-year-old.”

  “Only to you.”

  “And why is that?” I demand.

  “Because you chose me to be your advisor. I'm doing the best I can.”

  I want to compliment him on a job well done, but I hold back the awkward words. “How are we going to work on me not remembering who is who?”

  “One person at a time.”

  “You're very helpful,” I say.

  There's another knock on the door, and Nash answers it. “It's your ladies in waiting,” he says to me.

  “Tell them I'm busy.” Hopefully that keeps them away.

  He does so and returns to his position. “Let's start with those you do know.”

  “Ranen.”

  “Good. You know your furniture master. Who else?”

  Was that sarcasm? His straight face makes it difficult to tell. I shrug, wishing I had a way to be more confident. I remember faces and degrees of mistrust I felt for them; that's about it.

  “Let's figure it out. The first person introduced yesterday—do you remember what he looked like?”

  “Yes. Three chins and wig-like hair.”

  He purses his lips, like he's trying to keep from laughing. “And his name is…?”

  “T something. Tem?”

  “Timit.”

  “All right, Timit, then.” I’m grateful they didn’t introduce themselves with their last names too. Gives me less to keep track of.

  “Anyone else you remember?”

  “Something like a Minx?”

  Again, he struggles to control the twitching of his lips. “You mean Mina?”

  “Yes, her.”

  “Good. What does Mina do?”

  “Sit far away from me?” Though I’m not at all certain.

  “She does that, but why? What’s her position? Why does she matter to the state?”

  “Because she’s different looking than the rest?” With her pale skin and red hair, she has to be memorable in some way even if I can’t remember her name.

  “She’s Head of Foreign Relations.”

  I growl. “There's no way I can remember this all. Even if I do, what's the point?”

  “The point is you do your job.”