Death's Queen (The Complete Series)

by Janeal Falor

The talk returns to fashion, though I listen to it more than before. They are less inane than I thought they were. I see an intelligence in them, even if they’re talking about clothes.

  I never enjoyed being with a group of people before.

  It almost makes sitting here worth it.

  Chapter 31

  Stird meets me in my sitting room.

  “You have a report for me?”

  “Yes. Tido has very little family to speak of. Just a father. Everyone else died of Alamca a few years ago.”

  The disease that came with the drought. “Poruah class, then?”

  He nods. “As far as I can tell, he has no association with Daros.”

  “I hear a but in those words.”

  “But his father is deep in debt. I think he could be swayed to do whatever someone wanted if they either held the debt over him or paid off the debt for him.”

  Money can do a lot to a person’s morals. “Find any connection between who holds his father’s debt and Daros?”

  “None, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  Hmm. “How did he come to be at the palace if he was a Poruah?” I don’t have anything against them being at the palace. It’s just that most of the council are Kurah.

  “Worked his way up like others have, such as Monkia. He started out as a stable boy, worked his way up to a footman, where he became friends with one of he advisors. Eventually, that advisor needed more help in his office and requested Tido to help him.”

  “Adviser to which department?”

  “Head of Staff.”

  Makes sense that he’d advise in a staff capacity since he was working that type of job. “Very well. Thank you for your report. Get some rest.”

  He gives a curt bow and heads out of the room.

  There’s much to think about, but little time to do so. Unfortunately, it’s dinner time, with others instead of in my room. As much as I’d like to skip it, I need to show what little strength I can.

  On the way, I think of what to do with Tido. Or rather, what not to do about him. I’ll have to be extra vigilant to make certain he isn’t made ruler over my people.

  I take my place at the head of the table, and a plate is put before me. Succulent roast duck. It reminds me of the time I ate duck with Nash. I don't know whether to throw it across the room or stick a dagger in it.

  Instead, I cut a dainty bite and place it in my mouth. While it's stuck there, the council members and members of court eat. It's annoying that they had to wait for me, and now I'm stuck trying to eat in front of them. I'd much rather take a meal in my room, where I can force it down without an audience.

  But no. Affairs of the state can't be ignored, even when Nash is missing.

  My heart hurts for him. Rages for the unfairness of it all. And here I am, enjoying a dinner party, when he's probably starving. He did that too, but still needed me to be strong. But Daros needed me to be fit enough to do my job as an assassin. He has no such constraints with Nash. It’s doubtful he cares if Nash can even move.

  I put my fork down. I can't do this.

  “Is everything all right, Your Majesty?” Jem asks. She’s down a ways, on my left.

  I give her a smile I hope doesn't look too forced. “I’m fine.”

  She gives a heavy blink like she doesn't believe me, but lets it go.

  The chatter around me is inane, but I try to participate. I am the queen. My voice needs to be heard.

  “These dirty peasants keep asking for more and more,” a fat man with a squat nose and far apart eyes says.

  “They ask for more because they need more.” My grip on my fork is tight.

  “Need more,” a woman with long eyelashes says from across the table. “All they ever do is need things.”

  “Don't we all?” I ask.

  “You're the one who raised their taxes,” Squat Nose says. “You should be on our side, not theirs.”

  Either word hasn't gotten out about why I changed taxes again, or he's baiting me. Either way, I don't like it. “I won't put up with talk against the poor at this table. They need our help and consideration, not our condemnation.”

  The table goes quiet. Even the chatter clears at the other end of the banquet hall. I may have spoken too loudly.

  “We all have respect for the Poruah,” Jem says, saving me.

  “We just respect ourselves too,” Tido says, from my left.

  I thought he would care about the Poruah since he was one previously. I have an urge to whip out my dagger and stab it on the table, between his fingers. Instead, I give him a sour smile. “Does respecting yourself include blackmailing your way into a high position?”

  I stab my smallest dagger into the table next to his hand. He jerks back. My satisfaction is tainted by a faint feeling of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone so far, but it’s too late to change that now. Despite that, eating is a little easier now that I spat out what bugged me, and the rest of them follow my lead.

  Really, Daros can't have been so stupid to think I'd listen to a Head Advisor assigned by him. Unless that's what his next note is going to demand—that I follow the words of this imbecile.

  The meal winds down, and people start talking again, this time in whispers. Apparently, I am to be feared, if not respected.

  That's fine; I've given them no reason to respect me.

  I don't even respect myself.

  My end of the table stays subdued, except for my Head Advisor, who slurps and gulps his food in a most atrocious manner. Maybe the man doesn't realize he's being used. Either way, it's like having Ranen all over again, only without the hostility. But maybe that counts for something, though I don’t want it to. Not with Daros in control.

  When I finish my duck and vegetables, I realize everyone around me has been done for a while. They continued to eat scraps because I wasn't done. Jem's probably internally seething at my not noticing others. Oh well.

  There are still mounds of food on the table, just not on people’s plates. Who knows what plans they have for it? I can change the waste of food. Daros might not want me to let the Poruah have money, but I can give them food.

  I call the nearest servant over. “See that the rest of this food is delivered to the poorest families in the city.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The servant snaps her fingers, and other servants rush to clear the table. Small talk remains while they do so, though I don't involve myself. Things like which painters are the best, whom to hire to have the best sculptures done, what is the newest place to buy furs, and who has the finest wines.

  At least some of the market shops will have patrons.

  A hush fills the room as a servant brings me the Mortum Tura. I feel more like splashing it on these inane people than drinking it. The First Queen said it had magic in it, but what good is it if it can't help me locate and save Nash?

  I shove the thoughts away. They'll get me nowhere.

  “Thank you for joining me this evening.” My voice rings out across the room. I meet the gazes of those gathered. A few hang on my words, but most look bored and fidget with their fingernails or linen napkins.

  I press forward, anyway. “As you know, the taxes have changed a lot in the past several weeks. I regret that I've made our economy so jumpy. I will strive to do what I can to remedy that in the future.” If only I had complete control, and Nash's life didn't hang in the balance. “While you have a tax break from the government, I would highly encourage you to consider your spending. Think about using it to help the Poruah and the Medi. The working class. You speak of buying things like paintings and wines. Those are fine, but while you're out making your purchases, please consider giving coin to the poor. To patron those in the market selling wares you wouldn't normally buy. By supporting them, we will all benefit.”

  A few say, “hear, hear,” but nearly all the people remain silent. I'm not to be a popular queen with anyone.

  I grasp the chalice by the stem and tilt the cup back. As soon as
the liquid touches my lips, a warmth fills me. By the time I've drank it all, heat runs through me like a familiar echo. As that diminishes, I’m curious about what the familiar feeling is.

  Whatever it is, it won't bring me closer to Nash.

  After replacing the chalice, I stand, and the rest of the room follows suit. I nod and exit the room, my guards attending me. I don't know what it is about this night that has me so out of sorts.

  A hot, woozy feeling bubbles inside me, stifled, yet bursting.

  I'm only too grateful to return to my rooms. Inkga is waiting for me.

  “How did the dinner go, Your Majesty?” she asks as I sit in front of her.

  She takes off my crown and sets it to the side, to be taken to the royal treasury. My neck and head immediately feel lighter. Freer.

  “I should wear a lighter crown next time,” I say.

  “There are several tiaras available that might suit you. No one has worn them in a long time, but you could get away with it.”

  I put my elbows on the vanity and my head in my hands. “The weight of the crown isn't as bad as the weight of the people. I don't know how to lead under normal circumstances, and definitely not when Nash has been taken hostage.”

  “You do better than you think.”

  I lean back so she can unpin my short locks. “It's kind of you to say.”

  “It's not kind. It’s honest. You need that more than my kindness.”

  That's probably true. “Thank you.”

  “That's what friends are for.”

  Friends.

  My eyes burn. I close them and hide them behind my fingers. She'll realize a few tears escaped, but it makes me feel better.

  I regain control of myself and stay silent while she brushes my hair. When she's finished, I pull on my night gown and climb into bed.

  “Do you need anything else, Your Highness?” she asks.

  “Yes, Inkga. I do.”

  “What is it?”

  “I would prefer if you wouldn't use a title for me when we're alone. You can call me Ryn.”

  She hesitates. “All right, Ryn. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Inkga.”

  She takes the crown and leaves the room. A moment later, Julina replaces her.

  “You know, it's really hard to sleep with you watching me,” I say.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty. It's my job.”

  “I understand. I just wish things were different.”

  “Don't we all?”

  I'm so tired I drift off with those words ringing through my head.

  Chapter 32

  The First Queen jumps forward with vivid clarity. My talks with her felt real before, but now they feel hyper-aware.

  “It's the Mortum Tura,” I say. “It's making the dreams more lifelike.”

  “Very good.” She brushes the front of her green dress like there's something on it, but like always, it's perfect. “It will connect us more.”

  “Will it help me learn magic?”

  “It will give you magic, but you won't know how to use it. You must discover that for yourself.”

  “Can't you teach me?” There has to be a way to quickly imbue magic into an object I can use to save Nash.

  “You've been thinking a lot about this. I wish it was as easy as your thoughts, but I must teach you the ways of being queen. Magic is not included. You'll have to do that on your own time.”

  “But magic can make me a better queen.”

  She lifts her eyebrows. “How so?”

  “Because I can use it to help the people.”

  “Right now, you only want to use it to help yourself. That's a dangerous thing.”

  “I want to help Nash.”

  “And in turn, make yourself feel better.”

  I cross my arms, trying not to pout. I'm better than that. “If I can save Nash, couldn't I help my people in other ways?”

  “Magic is a dangerous thing, not to be taken lightly. Too many have given into its call of greed.”

  “It makes you greedy? How?”

  “Through its power. Just like I didn't want power-desperate queens, so I don’t want you to be overcome with greed-inducing magic.”

  I think about that a moment. “Once, a servant told me Deedra became sad and cruel. That all queens do. Am I doomed to become this way?”

  “Only if you let the power go to your head—if you cut me out of your life and go for your wants instead of the needs of your people.”

  Which I’ve done twice, for Nash and his family. I push the thought aside for now.“How can I cut you out of my life? You're here most of the time when I sleep.”

  “Doesn't mean you have to listen to me. If you recall, you did a fairly good job of shutting me out when we first met, even if you still spoke with me.”

  I do recall. I wish I opened up to her sooner and let her assist me.

  “There's still more you need to open up with and let me help. I can only do so much if you don't share things with me.”

  I purse my lips.

  “You can be upset with me all you want. It doesn't change the facts. I can assist you with so many things if you let me.”

  “Can you find Nash?”

  “You need to let him go.”

  I clench my teeth. There's no reason to let Daros go on torturing him.

  “Except that you need to do what's best for the country and people.”

  She's right. “I can't handle knowing what they're doing to him.”

  “Same thing they did to you?” Her head is cocked to one side.

  I don't want to talk about it.

  “You never do.”

  I hate that she can read my thoughts, but I don't even care that she read that one.

  “It's part of the deal. I help you—I can read your thoughts. It's not something I can turn off.”

  “What did people think of you when you were their leader?” I ask, to change the subject.

  “I know what you're doing.”

  I shrug.

  “To answer your question, some people liked me, and some hated me. It's the way of being queen.”

  “Did they like you or hate you for good reason?”

  “Depends on whom you ask.”

  What type of queen was she? What rules did she make? What lives did she change, for better or worse? “How long were you the queen before you put yourself into the Mortum Tura?”

  “Long enough to know what's best for the people is not always what they want.”

  That was no answer.

  “Now you know how it feels.”

  I scrunch my nose.

  “You show too much of your feelings for a queen.”

  “It's just you and me. What does it matter? You know my thoughts, anyway.”

  “Most of them, not all. You keep so much hidden. Besides, now is a good practice for later.”

  I want to argue, but it would prove her point that I show too much emotion by getting upset over it.

  “Very good. You're learning. But our time is running short. You need to remember what I say. Your country—your people—come first.”

  It's hard to remember that when Nash is being tortured.

  I wake with my hand on my throat, as if my own hands are against me.

  The First Queen said that going for my wants instead of the needs of my people would leave me power hungry and cruel. Is that what I'm doing, following the will of Daros? Keeping Nash above all else?

  Is that making me a bad ruler? Obviously, yes. I’ve known this, but thinking it so bluntly makes me sick.

  Chapter 33

  The first thing I do is talk to Jaku alone. I’m armed, in case he is the traitor, but I’m beginning to trust him. “What happened last night?” I ask.

  “No one came.”

  “How can that be? You and I were the only ones who knew it was a trap.”

  “My only guess is someone is watching your room and saw me go inside.”

  I growl in frustration. This is not the answer I wa
nted. I wanted to catch Daros and be done with this. Of course he would probably send someone else in his place, but that person would hopefully have led us to him.

  I excuse Jaku and think. As much as I want to change, I worry I'm making the wrong choice. Nash is first in my life. My people should be first in my country. How do I make the two work together?

  I'm not sure I can.

  My stomach revolts. I breathe through my mouth to contain myself.

  A knock sounds and a servant enters to remind me it’s time for a meeting with my ladies-in-waiting. I go to them, and they get straight to talking, but it’s hard to pay attention.

  “Your Majesty?” Jem asks. “Are you all right?”

  “I'm fine. Continue.”

  “We were wondering how we can be of service, my lady,” Inyi says.

  What can they do? What can anyone do?

  There's a low hum of noise I can't pinpoint, but I ignore it. “Tell me, what was discussed between the ladies-in-waiting and other queens?” I'm still not sure I understand what their use is. I've had a couple decent conversations with them, but nothing groundbreaking.

  “The words exchanged between previous queens and their ladies-in-waiting are unknown,” Suyla says. “What goes on between the queen and her ladies is kept secret.”

  And then the queen passes away, and the ladies try for the Mortum Tura, either to become the next queen or to die. “Then how do you know what to discuss with me?”

  “We were taught to follow the lead of the queen.” Suyla's fingers drum on her skirts like they aren't used to being idle.

  I shouldn't have taken away their sewing projects, but they drove me crazy with their constant handwork.

  The buzz grows louder. “I know what you can do for me. See what that noise is.”

  Suyla's eyes grow wide. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I want to know what that racket is.”

  She stands with a scowl on her face. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The rest of the ladies-in-waiting watch her go out before turning their focus back to me. What do I say to them? That I want them to leave me in peace to get some sleep? That I want to rush around searching for Nash? Probably something more practical. I open my mouth to speak when the door bursts open. Suyla is there with Afet, and she's huffing for breath.