by Janeal Falor
Still, I want to know more about them. To understand them. How can I get that information?
“Tell me if you know anything about the first queen of Valcora,” I say.
“That's a different question than what we usually cover.”
I shrug.
“Don't get me wrong—I think history is important, but this seems out of nowhere. You're surprising me today.”
“Just keeping you on your toes.”
He smiles, and something about that smile makes me want to move closer.
Instead, I clear my throat. “So do you know anything?”
“Honestly, I should know a lot more about history than I do, but I didn’t go to school.” That's no surprise; only the wealthiest can afford to send their children. “There's bound to be information around the palace library if you're interested in learning something, though. I don't know how much they'll have about the first queen, since she reigned so long ago, but there should be at least something.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
He leans closer. “What's this all about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem different. Like there's something else going on that you're not telling me.”
I contemplate speaking with him about my dreams, but what would I say? It's not like magic is common; it's a distant myth, barely spoken of. He might believe me, but do I want him to know? Until I'm sure, I can't do it. “There's lots I don't tell you.”
“I really wish you would. It would be helpful to us both.”
“So you keep saying.”
He mutters something.
“What was that?”
He opens his mouth and then stops himself. “You know, I don't have to tell you unless you order me to. You're not the only one who can keep secrets.”
“At least I don't do it out of spite.”
He huffs. “You're right. I shouldn't keep secrets just because I'm upset with you. But that doesn't mean you're going to like what you’ll hear.”
“Tell me anyway. I can handle it.” Can’t be much, compared to what I'm used to handling.
“Fine. I hate that you don't share things with me. I hate this stubborn trait you have. It's all right to keep things close sometimes, but you keep everything close. You don’t tell anyone anything. How is that helpful?”
“It's not. Maybe that's the point.”
He stands, walks over to the window, and leans outside. “Don't you have any feelings? Doesn't anything affect you?”
His words do, more than I want to admit. Right down to my very core. But what good would saying so do? “I appreciate your opinion.”
“My opinion?” He laughs—a semi-hysterical sound. “My opinion? Come on. There have to be more feelings in you than that. Please, open up to me.”
I bite my lip. Feelings weren’t allowed at Daros's. Just because I'm not there anymore doesn't mean I’m suddenly able to. Perhaps it should, but I don't know how. “I'm afraid I can't do that.”
“Well, then I'm afraid I can't stay in this room any longer. I can't be held liable for what else I might say.” He gives me a final glance before clenching his jaw and leaving the room.
Even knowing secrets are meant to be kept, I wish I could have shared some emotion or thought with him.
Chapter 27
“Your new clothes have arrived, Your Majesty,” Inkga says when I enter my sitting room. “You should try them on, or look at them, to make certain they're what you want.”
“That's fine.” I don’t want to look at clothes, but I'd rather make sure I'm not stuck with more lace and layers.
“Wonderful. And the kitchen sent up a tray for you while we work.”
She leads me into the bedroom, where clothes are laid out on the bed. A tray of snacks and a cup sits on the vanity.
“They didn't send anything for you,” I say.
She looks down, her cheeks turning red. “It's not proper for me to eat in your presence.”
“Fiddlesticks. Send for another tray, same as this one. I refuse to take a bite from it until you do so.”
She curtsies. “As my Queen wishes.”
She goes into the sitting room, opens the door, and talks to someone I can't see. The gowns, tunics, and pants one the bed call to my attention. They are simple, like I wanted. Even the most elaborate gown among them is a far cry from the dresses they've been tying me into.
Inkga's feet pad against the carpet as she returns. “Do you like them?”
“What I've seen so far, yes. I do.”
“Why don't you try some on? Then you'll be able to really tell if you like them or not.”
“I am aching to get out of this dress.” I’d been strapped in the layered monstrosity since this morning.
She hums an unfamiliar tune as she moves to the bed. “Which one would you like to try first?”
I pick the simplest outfit. Black pants with a blue dress and matching belt, with spots for my daggers. I prefer to keep them hidden, but this will do. There's no point in keeping them hidden now people know I defend my own life.
Not that I want them to make the connection that I'm an assassin. The last thing I want is for anyone to know what I've done.
“My Lady,” Inkga says, interrupting my thoughts, “would you like to try this outfit on?” She points to the one I was contemplating.
“Yes. Help me take off this gown.” I wish I could do it myself, but it's impossible with the multitude of buttons in the back.
I move in front of the mirror and turn around so I can watch while she undoes the buttons. I'm not worried that she’ll want to take my life. She seems nice, but even those who seem kind have hidden agendas. She could want any number of things that don’t have to do with my death.
“How have your meetings been going, Your Majesty?” she asks.
“Still learning things about the government. I didn’t realize there was so much to it.”
She removes the top dress and starts in on the next layer. “There is a lot, and I don't understand a fraction of it.”
I keep silent as she finishes undressing me. She pulls up the tunic.
“I can get this part myself.” I snatch it from her hands.
“But, Your Majesty, how am I going to be of service if I don't help you dress.” She twists her hands together.
“I'm certain you can find ways to make yourself useful.” I slip on the blue dress that is high on my neck with a decorated “V.” It comes to my knees. I place on a double brown belt across my waist. It has a strap that goes over one shoulder as well. A fourth belt is slung across my hips with a sheath. I place some of my daggers in the belt. My dress is short enough I can reach the daggers strapped to my thighs. This is great. “Who designed this?”
“I helped our lead seamstress with it.”
“You did?” I raise my eyebrows at her.
She blushes. “Yes.”
I glance in the mirror. The outfit is striking. What I described I wanted and more. I don't know how to tell her that, though. The words want to come to my lips, but I fall awkwardly silent.
I'm saved by a knock on the sitting room door. Inkga answers it and comes back with a tray. She sets it on the vanity next to the other one.
“Let's drink to my new outfits,” I say.
“But you haven't seen them all.”
“If they're anything like this, I'm more than pleased with them.” I pick up the closest cup.
After hesitating but a moment, Inkga raises the other.
“To a wonderful new wardrobe.” One that will make it much easier to climb out of my rooms whenever I want. And to keep weapons on me at all times. I put my cup to my lips. As I'm about to drink, I smell something metallic.
I react before I know what I'm doing. I drop my glass and smack Inkga's away from her face. She wrinkles her eyebrows at me. “Is there something wrong, My Queen?”
“My drink was poisoned, I wasn't sure if yours was as well. Did you drink any?” I bend down to pick
up the cup. There are remnants of the liquid in it.
“I did.” Her face is deathly pale.
Hoping she's so white because of my words, I lift the cup to my nose and take a good whiff. Poisoned, like mine.
“Sit,” I say as I scramble for the packet of poisons I keep on me at all times. Usually I use them to dress up my daggers, but there are also a couple of antidotes in there.
Inkga slumps over and falls to the floor before I can catch her. Blast.
“Guards,” I yell.
I keep my movements sure and steady as I reach for the pouch hanging about my neck like a necklace. The door to the sitting room bursts open, and Wilric and another guard I don't recognize crash into my room, swords drawn.
“She's been poisoned, though I'm certain it was meant for me.” As I talk, I loosen the strings of the pouch and rummage around until I find the right antidote. “I’m in no immediate danger, but I want you to question who made these trays of food.”
I force the antidote into Inkga's mouth and roll her onto her back to help her swallow it. I watch her throat as Wilric says, “We can't leave you when your life might be in danger.”
“I can take care of myself,” I say.
“Yes, Your Highness, but I insist on staying with you.”
“Then send the other guard.”
Inkga finally swallows. Did I get it to her in time? It's a brutal, quick-working poison. I roll her onto her side. “Get me—”
Before I can finish, she vomits all over my new pants. Better that than her dying.
“Too late. Go find the culprit before they escape,” I say when the guards continue to stare at me. “And send a healer.”
The guard I don't recognize runs from the room. Thankfully. Inkga heaves again. Wilric keeps glancing about the room, his sword at the ready. Despite not trusting him, part of me does feel safer, though I keep my wits about me.
Inkga's eyes flutter. A tension I didn't know was there falls out of me.
“What happened?” Her words are slurred.
“You were poisoned.”
She groans. Having been poisoned by Daros with this exact same one, I know how she feels. It's a venom I never built an immunity to because it’s not possible to do so. And you must work quickly against it if you're to live. Daros said I had to know what it was like when I failed to kill my first rat.
I shove the unbidden thoughts away. They'll do no good now.
I grab the closest piece of cloth from my bed, not caring that it's one of my new tunics, and help clean Inkga up with it. She groans again.
“I need some untainted water for her to drink.” I cup the back of her head.
“Sorry, Your Majesty, but I can't leave you,” Wilric says.
I huff. “Surely you don't want Inkga to die.”
“Of course not, but I can't leave you either.”
Thankfully, a servant comes running in. “What's happened?”
“Bring me a glass of water. Make sure you get it fresh from the tap and hurry as fast as you can,” I say hoping she’s trustworthy. I have no other choice.
She scurries from the room.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Inkga.
She moans.
“It's going to get better.” I hope.
After a moment, she leans over and vomits again until she's dry heaving. I wish I knew more of how to help her. I only know the basics of healing.
A woman strides in the room. “What am I needed for?”
“Who are you?” Can't be too careful. I haven’t seen her before.
“I'm the healer, Your Majesty.”
“This woman has been poisoned with Argula. I've administered the antidote, and a servant is bringing water.”
The healer's eyes grow wide. “How did you have the antidote?”
I scowl. “There are more important things going on.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” She hurries over and takes my position in front of Inkga, comforting her better than I could through her dry heaving.
I step back, watching the scene while still keeping an eye on my surroundings. Moments later, the servant returns with a glass of water. The healer directs Inkga to drink it, only to have it come back up again.
“More water,” the healer barks at the servant.
Confident the situation is under control and that Inkga will live after going through a tough couple of hours, I head out of the room. Wilric follows close at my heel. Before we get very far, the guard who left to check on things comes running up the hallway, his face pale and Nash at his side.
When he gets to us, I ask, “What is it?”
Nash looks me over, but stays silent.
“Your Majesty.” The guard bows. “I'm afraid the culprit is dead.”
“What?” How can that be?
“He killed himself before we could get to him.”
“How?”
“He hung himself in his room. His roommate found him moments ago after he disappeared from the kitchens.”
I narrow my eyes. “And how do you know he was the culprit?”
“He left this note.” He hands me a parchment with a bow.
I read it, struggling through the words and sloppy penmanship.
* * *
I refuse to live under such a queen. With her dead, someone new and better can reign. Tell my family I love them.
* * *
I thrust the note back at the guard trying not to think of the words about me. “See to it his family gets this.”
“I'm glad you're safe, My Queen,” Nash says.
I give him a curt nod, and I storm back to my room to check on Inkga. Even knowing she'll be fine, I can't help but worry about her. I worry about myself too. I want to know who's coming after me. Mostly, though, I hate that Inkga's life was put at risk because of me.
Chapter 28
The palace seems smaller than when I first came. It's still huge, but less of a maze and more of a giant building. I wander through it as my guards follow until I come to a new room. A library. Perfect. Just the place to learn about the first queen.
I point at the entrance. “Stay here,” I say to my guards, Eldim and a familiar woman I don’t know the name of.
“Let me make certain it's safe first, My Lady,” Eldim says.
“I'm perfectly safe going in myself.” I make my words crisp.
“But I must insist on checking it first.”
Hmm. No coward then. Plus, Inkga was poisoned. It doesn't hurt to have someone else look. Unless it’s a trap he’s setting up. I can handle myself if it is, though, and if it will appease him… “Very well. But make it quick.”
It only takes him a minute to comb through the library and return. “The room is empty. There are still windows that could be used for an attack, though. I think it best that we remain with you.”
“You will remain here.” I leave them without another word. There's bravery, and then there's just plain being annoying.
The library smells very old. Musty, and like books. I savor the scent I've not had many chances to come across but always associated with happy memories. I may have found a new place to hide out if I can get away from learning things long enough.
I wish Nash was here to tell me more about the library since the librarian desk is empty. Sometimes I forget he used to only be a guard. Maybe he knows nothing of this place. I'll have to remember to ask him next time I see him. If we can get over the fight we just had, that is.
I run my hands across the books at my height, though the shelves fill the walls all the way to the ceiling. There's a ladder to reach the top books, but I go around it. What secrets do these books hold? Is there anything like mine? Or are they common knowledge to everyone but me?
I know so little about this country I'm the leader of. It wasn’t in my training. Nothing was, except imitating, obeying, and killing. Perhaps becoming a shadow too. I learned plenty of things, but not outside of what Daros wanted me to know.
I move through books and boo
ks and more books, searching the titles for… I don't know what. Something about a history of the country. Perhaps the founding of Valcora. Anything that would hint at the first queen.
I come across a section of books that deal with the history of this land. I wonder if any of them contain information on the Mortum Tura and its chalice. Where it came from? How it works? Information to back up what the first queen told me, if she is the first queen.
Though if the answer was in a book, I suppose it would already be known. If someone read it. Maybe it's here and it hasn't been read in so long, everyone forgot it. I hope for the latter.
I skim through book after book, wishing reading came to me more easily. It would make this process go a lot faster.
I find nothing useful. A book on how all of Valcora is in a large valley. How pure mountain water gets to Valcora's lands. When the last invasion was—which I glance at, to find it was over five hundred years ago, when this book was written. It doesn't tell me about the first queen, though.
More books fly through my hands. History of Economics. History of Farming. The history of our language. More and more books, but nothing that looks just right.
Then I find an old, tattered book. Something the likes of which is unlike anything else around it. I'm afraid I'm going to break it just by opening it, but I do so anyway. There's no reward with out taking a chance.
Inside, the very first thing I see is a picture of her. The First Queen. She's not as crisp as she is in my dreams, but it's definitely her. Even the green dress is the same.
She's real then.
And with the fact that I haven’t seen this image before makes it all the more real. It's numbing. Terrifying. All too real.
But I must press on.
I search the text before and after her picture, hoping to find something that will tell me more about her. Let me know her name. Something. But there's nothing there. Nothing at all.
Instead, the book talks about the forming of Valcora. How travelers came long ago from some distance and found this land that was shielded by the mountains and decided to make it their home. It speaks of them and what they were like. How they struggled to make the land into a country they could live in. That their families could belong to.