Matthias didn’t think that was quite correct, but he had to admit she was just as well known to the inhabitants of Mons as he was. It might take some time for them to realize what was going on in the palace. “Disbanding the council and pacifying the city with food and entertainment won’t keep you on that throne, Margot,” he said. “You still need the rest of the country, and to do that you’ll need the military on your side, which you don’t have. And what about Reniel? Don’t you think the people of Mons will object to you butchering a prince of the Church?”
“Ah!” She raised an elegant finger, wagging it at him. “In my version of the story he’s the wicked, corrupt churchman who was in Queen Danaë’s pay. As such, he’s responsible for my sister’s death, Lukas’s disappearance, and your own ensorcellment by the witch queen. Any child could see he’s guilty of treason in that case. As for Bardahlson, it’s true he’s proving to be,” irritation crossed her features, “recalcitrant. But in the end that doesn’t matter.”
“And why not?”
She leaned forward, skewering him with a vicious grin. “Because everyone thinks you’re still in Hellas. By the way, thank you for showing up here like this. You’ve saved me the cost of an assassin.” She assumed her mournful expression again. “What a shame that you’ll disappear under mysterious circumstances while on your honeymoon. I’m sure your gawky ragamuffin of a bride will come up with some story about how she magicked you here to confront me. But I can assure you no one will believe it, not after I have couriers spread my story throughout the land. After that, no one will blame me for cutting off diplomatic ties with Hellas. I may even have to declare a state of war for their treachery and conquer their pathetic little kingdom.” She turned to Verheyen with that same twisted fondness. “What say you, my darling? Would you like to become commander of the Ypresian army and crush Hellas for me?”
The chief councilor licked dry lips. “If you wish, my lady.”
She considered it, then shook her head. “No. You’re more useful to me here. Once we rid ourselves of Bardahlson, we’ll send someone nice and hulking with just enough brains to be creative in his slaughter.”
Matthias could see Schrader tense at that, and touched the man’s arm in warning. “What do you want, Margot?” he called.
She affected surprise. “Why, what I have, brother-in-law. The throne of Ypres.”
“As regent,” he pointed out. “Not queen. Even if I die, that won’t make you Queen of Ypres. You could crown yourself, of course, but even with our shared bloodline the other eight realms won’t recognize your legitimacy. And I can assure you that Queen Danaë will not sit by if you try and take the country.”
Margot’s vile amusement faded, replaced by thoughtfulness. “You have a valid point there. Unfortunate, but valid. Well, I suppose there’s only one solution. Andreas, darling, have someone fetch up that fat little churchman from the dungeon.”
Every nerve on Matthias’s body went on alert. “Why do you need Reniel?”
She sighed as if he’d asked something ridiculous. “Because he’s the one who performed your wedding ceremony with the Hellene cow, darling. That means he can dissolve it and unite the two of us in the bonds of holy matrimony instead, making me the legitimate Queen of Ypres.” She waved at the Pauwels guards around the room. “And we’ll even have our pick of witnesses. Would you be willing to give me away, Andreas?”
Verheyen looked stricken at her suggestion. “My lady, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am.” Her quicksilver mood changed again, becoming determined. “I will be Queen, as I should have been all along.”
Matthias frowned. “Is that what this is all about?” he said, trying to find his way through the quagmire that was Margot’s mind. “You’re angry because I married Hanne instead of you?”
Margot bared her teeth at him. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” she said derisively. “It’s always about you, about a man. No woman could ever want power, or position, or respect for herself. No, our very souls revolve around you, and everything we do must reflect upon you somehow.”
Verheyen shrank from her, not willing to draw her wrath.
“We share a great grandfather, or did you forget that?” she continued, spots of color burning now in her cheeks. “And if it weren’t for Bernard the Just’s shortsightedness I would be on the throne, not you.” She thumped her chest again, hard. “I deserve it, not you!”
Matthias held himself still. What had begun as intelligence and ambition in his sister-in-law had somehow degenerated into a white-hot jealous mania without him noticing. “You have always been welcome in the palace, and your counsel has been respected and valued,” he said, working to keep his tone even. “But you cannot expect me to marry you and make you Queen. Even if Reniel was willing to dissolve my marriage to Danaë, I have no reason to put you in her place. Especially as it’s obvious you’ll have me killed as soon as it’s convenient.”
Still glowering, Margot steepled her fingers. “All right, then. Here’s a reason why you should marry me,” she said. “If you don’t, I’ll destroy everything you love, starting with Lukas. He’s still at the abbey on Atredes Island, yes?”
Matthias went cold. “You knew where he was?”
“I know ever so many things, Matthias. I can make sure his death is protracted and very painful. And then I’ll go after his little bastard daughter.” Her eyes narrowed. “Little Luna. She takes after Lukas, don’t you think? And yes, I know she’s being fostered in the cow’s palace. The Haansens were more than kind enough to give my men the entire story of your visit to that wretched little mining village. The thing is, it’s much easier to get inside a palace than you think.” She gestured to her family guards. “No one can watch all the servants all of the time. Eventually my people will get to her, and they’ll make her father’s death look like a sweet dream by comparison.
“And once I’m done with her, I’ll go after your precious little witch queen.” Margot’s smile returned, the rictus grin of a skull. “She rides in an open chariot, doesn’t she? All it would take is a single arrow, or perhaps an explosive loaded with Hellene Fire. Wouldn’t that be ironic, an Aqua mage burning to death as an unquenchable fire roasts the flesh from her bones?”
The horrible image of Danaë twisting in a sheet of fire, screaming in agony, burst through his mind. “Stop!” Matthias barked. “Damn you, stop this!”
And just like that, Margot’s rictus smile turned sweet as honey. “You’re the one who can stop it, Matthias. Divorce Danaë, make me Queen of Ypres, and I swear to you that I won’t touch any of them. If you behave yourself, I’ll even let you live.” She made a moue. “Granted, you’ll spend the rest of your life under confinement, but I’m sure you can find something useful to do with your time.”
Matthias fought the urge to leap on the long table, fling himself at the slim figure and choke the life from her. Each Pauwels guard held a pila, the heavy spear that could pierce armor. Even with Schrader and the other men at his back he’d be dead before he reached her. Calm. Keep calm and think.
As knowledgeable as Margot claimed to be, she was missing one vital piece of information, and that might be enough to buy him time.
He let his fury and frustration show, tinged with a very genuine fear for his family. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll marry you. But if you think I’m sharing a bed with you—”
Margot’s laughter pealed through the room. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she chortled. “That’s what Andreas is for. No, all I want from you is your ring on my finger and the Ypresian crown on my head. You’re more than welcome to sleep alone for the rest of your life, I assure you.” She turned to her paramour, pouting. “Darling, haven’t you fetched me our traitor yet?”
Verheyen jumped to his feet. “I didn’t want to interrupt you, my lady,” he said, snapping his fingers. The two palace guards that had opened the council doors stepped forward. “Fetch Patriarch Reniel from the dungeon,” he ordered.
The guards saluted and left. Matthias glanced at the soft morning light just slanting through the room’s stained glass windows. By his best guess, two hours had passed since the Matins bell had rung. If Danaë made good on her threat to send reinforcements, they would be arriving in the storeroom now.
Mentally he started a countdown to when the guard returned with the news that Reniel was gone.
****
Danaë stepped through the mirror, touching the pocket tied around her waist with its tiny burden. Clothing styles in Hellas differed from those in Ypres, but the outfit she now wore—dark skirt, white chemise, dark blue bodice, white kerchief over her hair—was close enough to the general style used by the palace’s female servants to pass a cursory inspection.
The cavalryman, who introduced himself as Hans Baert, gave her outfit a critical eye, then handed her an old broom. “Carry this, majesty,” he said. “My mother used to work in the palace. She always said that people never look twice at a busy servant.”
Danaë took the broom. It would make a decent blunt weapon if necessary. “Your mother is a wise woman.”
Baert smiled briefly, then sobered. “Are you sure you have to be here, majesty? The king won’t like the idea of you heading into danger.”
It was a point both Ife and Reniel had made, the patriarch with great force. All someone had to do was open the bottle. It didn’t require the services of a mage.
But Danaë had insisted on going. “Lady Margot’s actions are an attempt to overthrow the authority of the throne,” she said, repeating what she had said on the other side of the mirror. “My throne. As Queen of Ypres, that is something I will not stand for, and I intend to make this very clear to her.”
There was another reason, of course, but she had to wait until they ran into the palace guard to put it into play. And then hope it worked.
“Very well,” Baert said, gesturing for her to follow him. They made their way down the corridor, passing the entrance to the dungeon. The door creaked behind them.
“Halt!”
They turned. Two of the palace guards were behind them, swords drawn. Danaë grabbed Baert’s sword arm before he could draw his own weapon. “Don’t,” she hissed.
“Majesty!”
Shaking her head at him, she lifted her chin and gave the guards her best imperial glare. “How dare you address me in that fashion?” she snapped, pushing her kerchief back. Her dark curls sprang forward, with the deep blue lock visible. “You will greet your queen with proper respect.”
Both guards’s jaws dropped. “Y-your majesty,” the second guard stammered. “What are you doing here?”
“Providing support to your king, who was wrongfully relieved of his authority by Lady Margot Pauwels,” she sniffed.
“But she said—” The first guard broke off, scowling. To her dismay his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. “Milady, you need to come with us.”
“Before you do anything you will regret, allow me to remind you of one very important fact,” Danaë said, praying that the palace guard was still faithful to Matthias. “With my marriage to King Matthias, I became queen of Ypres. And the declaration of regency only mentioned the king’s incompetency, not my own.” She wondered if Margot noticed her error, or had assumed that Matthias would return alone. “Which means that I am the reigning monarch in Ypres at this moment. I call upon your loyalty to the throne to aid me now and support King Matthias. Lady Pauwels is attempting to overthrow your king, and I plan on stopping her.”
It was the real reason why she had to come. Only she had the power to command the palace guard to obey her and support Matthias against Margot. Whether or not they would do that was another matter entirely. My love, I hope your guard is loyal to you, otherwise this is about to get challenging.
The palace guards exchanged a look, and the first one licked dry lips. “Majesty,” he said, “Lady Pauwels said that you’d killed Queen Hanne with magic. That you were trying to kill the king with it as well.”
“Don’t be a fool!” Baert snapped. “Queen Danaë wouldn’t do such a thing!”
She held up a hand and Baert subsided. “Queen Hanne was killed by a bespelled mirror that was sent to King Matthias as a present, yes,” she said. “But it was Lady Pauwels who arranged to have it sent to them, not I. I love King Matthias with all my heart, and I swear on my family’s honor that I would never hurt him.” She swallowed her terror for him and took a breath. “Gentlemen, think. I stand here with a single soldier, one of your own cavalrymen, at my side. If I wanted to kill the king, or Lady Pauwels for that matter, wouldn’t I have a platoon of my own soldiers with me? Better yet, wouldn’t I have sent them on while I stayed in Hellas where it was safe?” She shook her head. “I am risking capture, injury, and execution because I know Lady Pauwels means to kill my husband, your king. I do not intend to let that happen. Now, will you show your loyalty to your king and help me?”
Another long, complicated look. Finally, just as Danaë started to ready a defensive spell, both soldiers thumped their breastplates in salute. “We’re loyal to our king, majesty, and to you,” the second one said. “What are your orders?”
She ignored the looseness in her knees. There would be time to collapse from relief later. “Tell me what’s going on in the council chamber, and don’t leave out a single detail.”
****
The Pauwels guards had taken charge of Matthias’s men, stripping them of their weapons and herding them into the far corner of the council chamber. Schrader was with them, face blank but his eyes sharp and watchful.
Matthias had been seated in the chair to the left of his own usual spot, but not before a stone-faced guard had stripped him of his sword and dagger. He folded his hands on the polished wooden tabletop, evaluating possible scenarios. Margot losing what was left of her sanity and ordering his execution. His men deciding on a suicidal bare-handed attack in his defense. Danaë making good on her threat and a troop of Hellene hoplites bursting through the chamber door.
The one thing he refused to consider was marrying Margot. And not just because Reniel was no longer in the palace and unable to annul his marriage to Danaë. By giving into that demand, even if it was a sham marriage, it felt like betraying Lukas, and Hanne, and everyone else who had been fallen prey to Margot’s ambition.
Margot still sat on the throne, her long, elegant fingers drumming on the tabletop. Now she stopped, getting to her feet and pacing. “Where in the gods’ names have those fools gone?” she demanded. “It can’t be that hard to pull a fat man out of a cell…”
She trailed off, eyes moving back and forth as she began to put the pieces together. “I didn’t ask you how you got into the palace, did I?” she said to Matthias. “Much less with eleven men in tow. I know the palace guards are fools, it’s why I brought my own men from home, but even they can keep a party of twelve from breaching the walls.”
“My guards aren’t fools,” Matthias said, pitching his voice so that it could be heard both by Schrader’s cavalrymen and the two palace guards at the door. “But any good homeowner knows how to get into his own home, even if it isn’t by the front door.”
She focused on him now, eyes lit with black amusement. “A secret entrance? I know all four of them, Matthias. They’re guarded by my men even as we speak.”
“Five.” Every minute he bought with a lie was a minute longer that his men lived, a minute closer to Danaë’s troops making their entrance. “There are five secret entrances, Margot. One is known only to the king. You never heard about it because, well…” He lifted one shoulder. “You’re not the ruler, are you?”
A pulse leapt in her throat. “I think I’ll make you sleep in a kennel,” she said after a long pause. “I’ll have one of the rooms in the royal wing stripped of everything except a kennel, a bowl of water, and some hay on the floor. You’ll be kept in there naked when I don’t need you for appearances. It’ll be very cold in there this winter. Perhaps a few months of suffering through freezing temper
atures will make you more appreciative.”
“This is how you would treat your king?” Matthias wished he could risk a look at the palace guards. The Pauwels men, they were loyal to Margot, undoubtedly promised wealth and positions of power in her new reign. But the palace men would follow Margot because the royal council had granted her that authority. If they could be convinced that she was unbalanced, that put two more men in his pocket. “You would torture me because I know things you don’t?”
“That is the point of torture, you know,” she snapped. “And you’re the one who’s making me do it. But you can have a comfortable room, clean food and reasonable entertainment if you tell me where this fifth entrance is.”
He made a show of considering, drawing out the moment as long as possible. “I swore my father an oath that I would not pass that information on to anyone other than my heir. And while you may become my wife today, that does not make you my heir.”
He winced when she grinned in triumph. “Oh, so all I have to do is wring it out of Lukas, do I? Fine. I’ll have his scarred carcass brought back here and get it out of him. He’ll talk to me. He loves his Auntie Margot.” She leaned on the table, a sultry look blooming on her face. “Shall I tell you just how much he loves me? Or for how long? He’s never been your heir. I took him to my bed and made him mine long before you ever thought to teach him kingly secrets.”
Matthias’s gorge rose and he forced it back down. “I know you raped my son.”
“Rape?” she sneered. “He enjoyed it. All young bucks do, even if they don’t have hair on their balls yet.”
He took in Verheyen with a brief look. The chief councilor was staring at Margot now in dull horror. He would have seen the elegant lady at parties, the courtier speaking with noblemen and wealthy merchants, the politician wrangling to strip a rightful king of power.
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