Cam watched her father’s face, trying to decipher the stern look he was giving. Her stomach twisted as she glanced again at the queen.
“I’m not sure what you’re expecting from us,” Mikkel added. “As a rule, we offer refuge to anyone who seeks it, but we will not go to battle in your name. I won’t risk my people’s lives over the squabbles of another kingdom.”
“I’m not asking for anything which hasn’t already been offered. I need a safe place to stay while I heal, and once I’ve recovered I will leave here, on my own, to reclaim my crown.”
“And what about your magic?” Guthry added. “What’s to stop you from putting us all under some spell? How are we to trust you won’t use your powers against us?”
The queen rolled her eyes. “Since it’s clear you have no idea how magic works, I’ll enlighten you. Magic flows through the entire body, it’s part of you as much as the blood in your veins, but it can only be channeled through your hands. As you can see,” she said holding up her bandaged arm, “I’m a little broken at the moment. The hands are the doorway for the power to escape, and until my bones mend, the doorway is blocked. The magic is halted within me, and I am incapable of doing all those things you’re so worried about.”
“Well, that settles it,” Mikkel said, standing up. “I feel safe saying you pose no danger to the Ashen people, and you’re welcome to stay in our kingdom as long as you wish. But be warned, if you commit any crimes while you’re here, or I find out you’re plotting against us in any way, you’ll be returned to the assassin hunting you. That is, if I don’t deal with you myself.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”
“That’s it?” Guthry hissed. “You’re just going to take her word? How can you ignore the concerns of your people?”
“I’ve made my decision,” Mikkel warned, his voice echoing off the walls. “It would be wise of you to respect it.”
The old man shrank away, bowing to the king. “Yes, of course Your Majesty. I’ll be on my way.”
Cam watched him slither from the room, satisfied at the grimace he had as he left. When she turned back to her father she saw the worn look on his face. The last few days had taken a toll on him as he sat through dozens of meetings with various people, each worried about the new arrival. He had stood by her decision to bring the queen to the castle, but it was clear he was dealing with the fallout when it should have been her burden to bare.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” he sighed. “I have some other matters to attend to and need to visit my library. Cam, why don’t you give our guest a tour of the grounds.”
“It’d be my pleasure,” she replied.
Mikkel tipped his head once more to the queen before walking towards the doorway. As he disappeared, Rya relaxed, taking a seat on the step leading to the throne. She rubbed her calf as she frowned down the aisle.
“I can’t believe that fowl old man is allowed to speak in that tone.”
“He’s always like that,” Cam shrugged. “But he’s been royal adviser for decades, and he feels he’s earned the right to say what’s on his mind. Personally, I think my father should have fired him a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t seem enough. If he was in my service I’d have his tongue removed so I’d never hear his voice again.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Papa rarely takes any of the stuff Guthry says to heart.”
Rya chuckled. “That’s a relief.”
Cam had checked in on the queen often since she’d brought her home, always worrying about how pale she’d grown. When the fever took hold her color turned, glowing red as her body fought against the sickness. Watching her now, Cam was pleased to see the only hint left behind was a pink tint on her cheeks.
“About that tour,” Rya smiled.
“Right.” Cam reached out and took both of the queen’s hands, pulling her to her feet. The brief touch sent her heart pounding in her chest, and the air caught in her lungs. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she held on a second longer than normal. Cam spun towards the door, attempting to hide her blushing from the queen. “We wouldn’t want you getting lost.”
Five
When Rya thought of a tour of the grounds, she expected to see the grand hall’s high ceilings, or the treasury, or perhaps the glorious gardens that flanked the front steps; she certainly didn’t expect what Cam had planned.
“Where are you taking me?” She cringed. The corridor was long and dim, with no doors along the length of it. Skinny flat windows popped out along the top, allowing the sun’s light to spill inside, but the shadows still swallowed the end of the tunnel, lost in the darkness ahead.
“I figured starting in the inner ward was the best plan. This leads from the castle to the kitchens there. We used to play down here as kids; racing each other from one end to the other. It drove the servers mad having to dodge us as they carried trays of food up for meal time.”
Rya smiled. “You must have been pretty quick.”
“I wish,” Cam replied. “My friend Thane usually won. He’s always had longer legs than me, giving him an advantage.”
“You mean he didn’t let his little princess win?”
She laughed. “No way. Where’s the lesson in that? If anything, I had to fight harder because I was the princess. There was a line of kids wanting to say they beat the future queen. I grew up knowing if I wanted to win, I needed to actually be the best.”
Finally, they appeared to have reached their destination. Cam pushed open the single swinging door and led Rya into the kitchens. A dozen people dashed between large iron pots bubbling with various broths and soups. Others peaked in on the ovens, checking the meats and seasoning vegetables. The air was heavy and sweltering, filled with the scent of spices and garlic. Rya could already feel the sweat beading on her neck as Cam stopped to pluck two rolls off a stack nearby, waving to one of the women who responded with a kind smile and a shake of her head. The princess handed Rya one of the balls of bread and pushed open the front door.
Outside, the cool autumn air washed over her, brushing away the stuffiness of the kitchen. The girls walked through the inner ward, tearing off pieces of their rolls as they talked. While Cam chatted about the various buildings, Rya watched the people going about their days. Young couples were lounging on benches, teasing each other with coy looks. Children played in the streets, bouncing balls off the sides of the homes, or squealing as they chased one another through the alleys. Around another corner, a group of women cackled while exchanging gossip and beating the dust from their rugs.
“Most of the people who work within the main walls live here in the inner ward,” Cam explained. “It’s a tight community, but it’s only a small percentage of our population.”
“A number of your subjects live in the woods themselves, don’t they?”
“Yes, the woodsmen make up a great portion of the Ashen, but there’s also Wynlis Port. It’s grown quite a bit in the last few decades, nearly tripling in size.”
They continued their walk and a light breeze swept across Rya’s bare shoulders. The queen raised her hand, running it through her cropped hair and sighing. Cam’s words became distant and muffled, driven away by the memory flooding her mind.
She’d been running for days, struggling to keep moving, but as her body fought against her she decided to take rest in a small inn. The last of her gold clanked together in the leather pouch as she handed it to the keeper, her face hidden behind a thin shawl she’d managed to keep with her during the trek. Once upstairs, she found the accommodations to be nothing more than a bare mattress on the floor, a chamber-pot, and a kettle resting over a pile of ash. In the corner sat a small plate, flies buzzing around the remnants of the last tenant’s festering meal. In a fit of rage, she kicked at the brass chamber-pot, sending it clanking across the wood floor and bouncing off the wall. Without thinking she balled her hands into fists, the pain from her freshly shattered bones shot through her fingers and she cursed as her thumb went
numb.
Rya fell onto the mattress, exhausted and infuriated, and found an agreeable spot to sit between the lumps and various stains. She leaned over and peeled off what remained of the thin leather shoes she’d been wearing, rubbing the sore spots left from the worn away areas. When she looked up she caught her reflection staring back at her in the metal of the chamber-pot and she winced. It was wide and distorted, stretching her face into an odd shape. Despite the warped face mimicking her scowl, there was no mistaking who she was; she’d always be the Black Queen.
She couldn’t remember making the decision, but she could still feel the weight of the knife as she plucked it from atop the discarded plate. Her teeth grinded together as she forced her injured hand to wrap around her hair, biting back the scream wanting to escape her lips. With the other she began sawing away, watching the dark brown curls litter the ground at her feet. As the last clump of hair fell free, she sank back onto the mattress and wept.
The sound of water brought her back to the present, and she looked up to see Cam’s worried face staring at her.
“Are you alright?” She asked. “You look—I mean, do you need to rest? You just woke up, maybe this has been too much.”
“No,” Rya answered. “I’m just a little light headed for a moment, no need to worry, Princess.” She could feel the edge of her hair brushing the base of her neck, suddenly aware it was no longer uneven and jagged. That too had been cared for while she slept.
“If you’re sure,” she nodded, leading her into the courtyard. “And you can call me Cam—just Cam.”
The queen smiled. “This is a beautiful place, Cam.”
The grand fountain sat in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by paving stones. It was made of white marble, and water spouted from the top of a six-pointed crown which capped the third tier. It then flowed over the lower two ledges before splashing into the basin below. A light mist hung in the air around it, catching the sunlight and turning it into faded streaks of color suspended above.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Cam smiled, taking a seat on the fountain’s wall. “Something about the rushing water makes me feel peaceful. I come here whenever I need to get away from everything else.”
“I can see why,” Rya replied, taking a seat next to her. From the corner of her eye she could see the princess staring at her.
“I’m sorry.” Cam looked away, her cheeks turning pink. “You look so different than what I remember. We met once, while I was in the Isles, but it was nearly three years ago. I know a lot can happen in that time, it can change a person.”
“Yes, it can.” Rya smirked. “For example, you’re not the spindly girl you were back then.”
“I’m surprised you remember me at all. You were so busy, I can’t imagine making much of an impression.”
“I remember everything from the week Gerrod died,” she sighed. “The advisers told me it was my duty to sit on the throne and entertain anyone wishing to mourn the king’s passing. I was forced to sit in that chair for days while people, one after another, came in with their tear-stained faces howling over his death. As if any of them knew him at all.” Her words trailed off, and she frowned at the anger boiling inside her. She took a deep breath, calming herself before continuing. “I remember you and your father coming to offer condolences.”
Cam nodded. “We had been moving through Trava and Papa said we needed to pay our respects.”
“I’m sure you know your father is one to stand out among a crowd,” Rya joked. “I remember laughing at the look on my soldiers’ faces as he walked in, towering over them all. And there you were right next to him, walking with as much grace and confidence, as if you were the same size. It made the advisers nervous; they weren’t accustomed to a girl being so bold.”
“They obviously hadn’t spent much time with you,” Cam laughed. “I’m sure they wouldn’t even notice now.”
The image of the young princess was as clear in Rya’s mind as if it were yesterday. She had been all limbs and thin as a rail, not like now. She could tell, even with the loose tunic she wore, Cam had grown into the curves of a young woman. Her round, childish face had thinned out, sharpening her nose and chin. Her shoulder length hair had grown longer, and the strands of blond were twisted into a braid that reached the middle of her back. The only feature remaining the same were her eyes; the color of a storm over the sea and as piercing as a dagger.
“How old were you when you came to see me?” Rya asked.
Cam thought for a moment. “It would have been just past my fourteenth birthday.”
“Only two years younger than myself. Funny how such a short amount of time can mean so much. One of us was still an innocent child, and the other a new queen.”
“Time might make a difference when you’re younger, but the effect fades as you age. There’s not much that separates us now.”
Rya looked over at the girl and a flutter in her stomach caught her by surprise. For a moment, she thought the light breakfast she’d consumed was going to reappear, but seconds later the feeling had passed, and Rya was left confused.
A stampede of small feet broke the moment and she looked up to find a thin boy charging at the pair of them. His pale-yellow hair bounced with each step and a smile stretched from ear to ear, revealing the gap where his front tooth should be. As he got closer he slowed down, skidding to a halt just before crashing into their knees.
“Are you the witch?” He asked, still beaming.
“Eirik,” Cam gasped. She grabbed the boy by the arm, yanking him to her side. “I’m so sorry, it seems my brother has forgotten his manners. I might have to beat them back into him.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” he replied. He squirmed, trying to free himself from her grip, but kept his eyes on Rya. “I’ve never seen anyone with magic before. I had to get a look at her.”
The queen placed a gentle hand on Cam’s arm and she released him. The boy took a small step back and looked Rya up and down before shrugging.
“It doesn’t matter, she’s not a witch. She’s too pretty.”
“He’s rather charming,” Rya laughed.
“It’s true,” he added. “Everyone knows people with magic are old and ugly. It’s in all the stories, that’s how you know to stay away from them.”
Cam smacked her forehead with her hand, hanging her head in embarrassment.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Rya whispered, luring him closer. “Anyone, at any age, can have magic within them. It’s born inside you as you take your first breath, and it’s there until your last. It’s up to the person themselves to harness the energy and make it work for them.”
“So—” the boy said in a hushed voice, “I could have magic?”
Rya giggled. “I’m afraid if you did, you’d already be showing signs at your age. But then again, it’s always possible.”
“It’s true then, you have powers?” He asked. “Can you show me?”
The queen nodded, then cupped her hand and dipped it into the fountain. The boy watched with wide eyes as the water she’d scooped out began to float and twist in the space above her palm, shaping itself. When it had finished, a blast of cold air shot upwards and the water turned solid, falling into her fingers. With a triumphant grin, she handed him a perfect rose made of solid ice, her joy made even greater by the look of wonder on his face.
“This is for me?” He gasped, hardly able to speak.
“Not all magic is bad,” she replied. “Remember that when you hear people talking.”
“I will.”
Rya patted him on the head. “For now, let’s keep this little gift a secret alright? If lots of people knew I could make you a rose, they might want one themselves, and that would make it less special.”
The young prince nodded in agreement, then took off with a grin, cradling the ball of ice in his small hands as he ran up the castle’s steps. Rya couldn’t contain the smile on her face, even as Cam’s glare burned into her.
/> “If you have something to say,” the queen sighed, “you might as well just say it.”
“You said you couldn’t do magic. You lied. You said the break in your wrist wouldn’t allow you to use your powers, but that’s obviously false.”
“What I said,” Rya clarified, “was I’m unable to do the things the old man was babbling about. I’ve been training my powers since I was a child, and a little trick like I just did takes almost no effort at all. Now, putting an entire castle under a spell, or setting a forest on fire, is a different story entirely. If it makes you feel any better, freezing that water did leave my arm aching.”
Cam crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at her feet. Another feeling struck Rya, one which was as equally foreign as the first. She swallowed, hoping the sick feeling would pass as quickly as the other, but it didn’t.
“Look,” Rya huffed, “I promised to be on my best behavior and I meant it. I really do owe you my life for what you did in the forest. I don’t know anyone else who would have saved me.”
“That’s not true,” Cam replied, relaxing her arms a bit. “I’m sure most people would want to help a damsel in distress.”
“Not when they find out they’d be helping the Black Queen. I know what people think of me, and I know if it weren’t for you I’d be dead right now so—thank you.”
Cam put her hands back at her sides, her fingers grazing Rya’s. The brush of her soft touch sent a shock through the queen’s hand, and her mind scrambled to find something to say, anything to distract her from the princess’ skin on hers.
“I didn’t realize Mikkel had any other children,” she said. “I thought the queen passed away years ago.”
“Seven, to be exact,” Cam answered. “My mother died giving birth to Eirik.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m blessed with wonderful memories of her, but when I think about it, I get sad for my brother. He won’t have any of that. He’ll have to grow up never knowing his mother.”
The Poison Within Page 3