Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  Arrago came to his feet. “I am. I am the same man.”

  “So you were always the kind of man who’d threaten to let a little girl starve unless someone did what you wanted?”

  “There’s simply a lot of politics...”

  Bethany laughed at him. She mockingly laughed. She could do it so well. “Politics? Good night. Majesty.” She walked through the door that divided their bedrooms. She slammed the door behind her and, a moment later, he heard the lock slide into place.

  Her use of majesty stung more than anything else that happened that night, including Edmund’s punch. Apexia forgive him, Bethany was right. He had changed in this last year. It wasn’t an immediate change, true, but it had happened. His angry threat was proof of that.

  And for what? The fear of angering nobles? The fear of being killed? He was going to die one day. Be it in his sleep, after illness, or in a battle of some form, he was going to die. Was this the legacy he wanted the archives to remember?

  He pulled out the scroll from his pocket and walked over to the small desk in the corner of his bedchamber. He pulled back the case to reveal his pen set. He signed the will. He melted his wax and pushed his ring seal into it. He’d give it to Stanley for safe keeping when he came back from the temple.

  Chapter 6

  EDMUND AROSE THE NEXT morning rather ashamed of his encounter with Arrago. He knew better than to conduct business in the wee hours of the night, when exhaustion and wine could possess the good senses of a monk into a violent outburst. He regretted hitting Arrago. He’d not meant to do that. He regretted the argument with Amber that followed hitting him, whereby she kicked him out her bedchamber, all the while little Opal cried for him to rock her.

  He stared at his reflection in his chipped mirror. He’d been feeling a bit too sorry for himself lately, and it was showing in his work. Arrago never said anything about it. He never would. In fact, he made excuses for Edmund’s laziness all of the time. And it was laziness, Edmund realized. At first, it had been learning to use another hand, and the muscle memory was still not there. But the long days of drinking unwatered wine, and foisting work on to assistants and secretaries who weren’t trained in any of this had been his own folly.

  It was time to get over himself. If Arrago would not sign the will, then he needed to amass enough of a fortune to provide Opal a dowry unmatched by anyone in the country. Then, she could at least marry into the aristocracy and would be maintained. She would be as safe as he could make her.

  Amber had been right last night about one thing, in between all of the yelling and shouting they’d done. He wasn’t going to save money by drinking it all away. He’d told her to mind her own business when she’d said that, but now in the morning light, he knew she was painfully correct. He had been drinking too much and it was affecting his moods.

  Part of him was surprised someone finally had said the words to him, and said in anger and not the hushed tones of pity he’d grown accustom to in the passing months. No, Amber’s words were sharp and harsh.

  It’s time you put that bottle down and be a man! She’d winced as soon as she’d shouted it at him, but she didn’t apologize for it. She knew she was right. What’s more, he knew she was right. He simply hated hearing it.

  Well, no more. He’d water his wine again, and drink more tea, and stop spending his nights thinking about how he wasn’t a real man anymore. He didn’t have a clue how to actually do any of that, but he knew it was time to figure it out.

  Kiner offered to train you. Bethany would, too, if you asked her. She wouldn’t go easy on you. She’d work you and not take any excuses. Why don’t you ask her?

  Amber had been pestering him to learn how to swordfight with his uninjured hand but he’d put her off. She was right again, damn her. He needed to learn how to fight again. How could he defend himself if he couldn’t hold a sword?

  He frowned at the old man staring back at him. He was barely into his twenties. Who was this haggard, scarred man staring back at him every morning? Is this how monsters were made of men?

  Edmund closed his eyes. No, he wasn’t a monster. Not yet. He was a lazy ass who’d been taking his friends’ kindness for granted for far too long. It was time to be a real man; suck up the whining, apologize to his friends, and work hard for the future of a little girl. That’s what his father would tell him if he’d still be alive. He could do that now.

  Edmund walked out of his room and walked purposely toward Arrago’s study. First stop, would be that particular apology. He’d made his way through the royal suites where he lived, and down to the offices.

  A throat cleared behind him. He turned and it was Arrago. “Hello, Edmund.”

  Edmund gave a curt nod, unsure if he should call him by name or rank. It wasn’t out of spite, but rather out of simply not knowing how best to smooth out the wrinkles in the situation. He didn’t have the chance to speak first, though.

  “Edmund, look, I want to apologize for last night. I should not have threatened Opal. I wish I could justify my words, but I cannot. Please forgive me.”

  A weary sigh escaped Edmund as the simple words sucked the wind from his sails. Of course, Arrago knew how to be the better man. It was why he was going to be one of Taftlin’s greatest kings. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  “It still hurts,” Arrago said dryly. Then, he quirked a smile. “But not as bad as Bethany’s lashing last night.”

  Edmund snorted. “Amber shouted at me for three quarters of an hour, easily.”

  “Maybe we both deserved it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Listen, I want to speak to Stanley and Rayner about the will first, if you are willing to wait,” Arrago said. He raised a hand to stem off any objections. “I am wondering if there is a better way to handle it, than by exception. Perhaps we could do what Cul does, and pass a law allowing women to control their own dowries. That way...I don’t know any particulars. I just want to be even with it.”

  “I understand,” Edmund said. It surprised him that he meant it. Things had not been easy with Arrago since after the war, especially once he learned about Apexia’s grace upon them. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”

  “Bethany says I deserved it, and she says she’s never wrong.” Arrago offered his hand. “We should talk when I get back.”

  Edmund accepted the hand and shook it. “Agreed.”

  BETHANY MARCHED ABOUT the stable grounds and shouted at servants, guards, and knights alike. No one was where they were supposed to be, and no one was moving as fast as they should be. At this pace, it would be a month before she managed to get out of this place. The supplies to relieve Castle Gree hadn’t even been loaded on the carts, let alone the extra armour and weapons they’d need for the journey.

  “What are you standing around for?” Bethany shouted at two maids who’d stopped to giggle. At their wide-eyed stare, she shouted, “Get back to work!”

  They hurried off, though shouting at the servants brought several disapproving looks from those around her. “If you want me gone and out of your hair, hurry up!”

  Behind her, someone clapped. She whirled around, prepared to deliver out a helping of wrath, only to deflate. Rose and Darien stood there. Darien wasn’t the one clapping, as he was afraid of her and his nose probably still hurt. Rose, however, didn’t have the same fears of Bethany as others her age and rank, and she clapped with a big grin on her face.

  “Oh, it’s you two. What do you want? I’m too busy to babysit.”

  Rose gave Bethany a disapproving look that she had to have learned from Amber. Rose had grown up a lot since the onset of the war. Darien, less so, but he was still figuring his way. He’d not betrayed her. What’s more, he’d protected her, even though he’d been injured. She respected him more for that.

  Rose signed quickly with her hands. Bethany only followed part of it. Soldier’s tongue was centuries old, and she’d known plenty over the years who’d taken up signing by necessity or from trauma. Rose had taken it up
because of injury, though Bethany wondered if trauma more than injury affected her. Her tongue hadn’t been completely removed, and she had enough that she could still eat and occasionally comment on the taste of food or the texture. But she never even tried to speak those comments.

  Bethany chastised herself. The girl had found her own way to talk in a way that didn’t hurt her.

  Bethany’s wandering mind and Rose’s swift hands meant Bethany had lost most of context of what Rose was saying. “Rose, Rose! You gotta slow down. I’m rusty. Can you start over?”

  Rose replied by doubling her speed.

  Bethany growled, “Smart-ass little shit.”

  Rose chuckled and bumped Darien with her elbow. He blinked, coming out of his trance of staring at the asses of the maids.

  “Right. Sorry. Lady Bethany. Majesty,” he said. “The Dowager, the duchess, and Miss Paverly are returning to the palace.”

  “Shit,” Bethany muttered. She didn’t have time to organize these people. She saw a stablehand smoking a pipe on top of the haystack. “Kid! Get away from there with that before you burn the palace down!”

  The kid dropped his pipe on the ground, right on top of a dried little pile of hay. One of the other men pushed him out the way, grabbed the pipe, and stomped over the hay before brushing it apart with his boot. He slapped the kid in the back of head. “Sorry, Majesty. I’ll have a talk with the boy.”

  “Good,” Bethany said. “The last thing we need is a fire while we’re gone. Can the two of you organize Paverly? I’ve not even seen her since I’ve gotten back and a brief hello-goodbye isn’t what I want. And I’m quite busy.”

  Rose nodded. She signed: Would you like me to bring them to Amber? She can help find settle them into rooms. Did you want Paverly to have rooms near Amber’s?

  “Check with Amber and the housekeeper. I don’t know how any of that is assigned and I’d rather not step on any toes.”

  Darien snorted. At Bethany’s glare, he cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

  “While I’m gone, I want you both to keep an eye on things. Deal with any small issues, but make sure Brennus or Kiner knows about them. Don’t bother Edmund unless you have to. The same with Rayner and Stanley. Leave them be to run things. If there’s any trouble, do whatever Kiner tells you to do. Keep an eye on Prince Henry.”

  “Are you expecting trouble?” Darien asked.

  Bethany shrugged. “I’m always expecting trouble.”

  Rose signed: Everyone says you’re paranoid.

  Bethany gave her another shrugged. “Well, I hope it all goes well, too, but I’ll be easier if I know everyone home is taken care of while I’m away.”

  Rose smiled at her. Home?

  “Well, who would have thought either of us would end up living here?”

  Rose shook her head, but she was still smiling.

  “It turned out okay in the end, didn’t it?” Bethany asked.

  Rose nodded. It is a good life.

  Darien, for his part, frowned and said, “It’s cold here. The food’s terrible, too.”

  “The food’s not that bad,” Bethany said. “Stick with fish, bread, and potatoes if you’ve never sure, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I miss olives,” Darien said.

  “Everyone misses olives,” Bethany added.

  Rose signed that she hated olives.

  Bethany laughed. “Well, not everyone in Taftlin is as refined as us, Darien. I’m hoping to buy a couple of barrels of cured ones to bring back.”

  “Oh, that would be delicious,” Darien let out an oddly dreamy sound.

  Arrago approached them from the distance. Bethany’s stomach tightened into knots. They hadn’t spoken since their argument the night before.

  She cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me.” She heard Darien snicker behind her and Bethany turned to see Rose signing excitedly to him. She gave the young women a very rude gesture, which made Darien blush and Rose grin. Rose made an equally rude gesture back in reply, and then giggled more. Kids. They grow up fast.

  Bethany ignored the whispering as she walked to close the distance with Arrago. By now, the entire palace grounds no doubt knew of Arrago and Edmund’s fight. She’d even heard about Edmund and Amber’s fight from the royal suites’ chambermaids who were lurking outside her bedroom to gossip. And then, when they discovered her in her own bed and not in Arrago’s, she was sure that got added to the gossip.

  “Good morning,” Bethany said cautiously.

  “You were up before dawn,” he said. “I didn’t get to see you.”

  She shrugged. “There’s a lot to do. Did you need something?”

  “Bethany, I don’t want to fight.”

  “Did you apologize to Edmund?”

  “Yes,” Arrago said, heat creeping into his voice.

  “Fine,” Bethany said. She hated this kind of crap. “Look, I’m busy. We can talk later.”

  “No, we’ll talk now, I think,” Arrago said. “You’ve been bossing me around since you arrived in Taftlin. I’m used to it from you by now, but you can’t keep behaving like this. I’m your husband, not one of your soldiers. You have to talk to me sometimes.”

  “I’m too busy for this right now,” she snapped.

  “You’re always too busy.”

  “Oh, grow up,” Bethany shot back.

  “Would you prefer I didn’t come? I wouldn’t want to ruin you little adventure. Lady Bethany gets to be the hero again. Couldn’t have the awkward king ruining the show.”

  “That is not fair. This isn’t about me, Arrago.”

  “Everything is about you,” Arrago snarled. He muttered a bunch of words she didn’t understand and stormed off.

  A moment later, she heard footsteps crunch behind her. She turned to see Rose cringe and Darien attempting to look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Don’t either of you have something to do?”

  Rose signed: Not really.

  Bethany glared at her. “I remember when you weren’t so lippy. I liked you better than.”

  Rose signed: It’s Darien’s fault. He’s a very bad influence.

  “Hey! Lady Bethany Majesty, honest, it wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything. Rose is lying. She’s a liar.”

  And as Bethany walked away, Darien followed her to assure her that, no, he was not a bad influence on Rose and that, yes, he was a very good elf. Because that’s what she needed after a fight with Arrago.

  Chapter 7

  ENCOURAGED BY HIS TALK with Arrago and his own shame from the night before, Edmund walked through the palace’s royal suites with two servants in tow. They had all of the maps, agreements, treaties, contracts, and everything else he could get from the archives pulled together under short notice.

  He’d even called for the Archivist to bring whatever he had in his vaults. Calls were put out for more of these agreements, even if just verbal. King Daniel didn’t keep any records nor make any agreements, fool that he was, but his father had plenty plans either in place or working. Edmund wanted them all. Too much knowledge was lost during the war and it was time to rebuild.

  In his own hand, Edmund carried a large ledger that contained information about rents collected on royal lands. Tucked under his other arm was a much smaller ledger contained the detail of his new estate and property that Arrago had given him, plus the deeds of inheritance now that most of his own family was gone. When he was done with his job for the day, he would consult Lord Rayner about how to improve upon his own estates, which were sadly neglected. Rayner offered help and, if he was to be completely honest with himself, Edmund needed a father still. Rayner was grumpy, contrary, and argumentative, and he made Edmund feel like he was back home, before the war, with his father still alive.

  For the day, though, Edmund would first concentrate on the royal lands. Some of the properties had been sending in their rents on time, but many in the north and along the eastern borders were not. It wasn’t overly surprising with the war, but the war was over a year gone now. They had be
gun slowly building up the tax system once again, forming a strong network from Winter Palace to Castle Gree. They had not yet discussed their next approach and direction. Along with all of the instructions Bethany had given him, he could use this as an opportunity to offer up some suggestions. Lord Rayner had said it was time to clamp down on these estates again and he wanted to help.

  It was possible, Lord Rayner said, that they had no rents to collect, be it because the staff were dead or the tenants killed in the fighting. It could be that they were collecting the rents, but not sending them for fear that the roads weren’t safe. These weren’t properties that could rebel, since they were owned by the king himself; it was just a matter of putting the organization back into place.

  Edmund added that to his workload, along with Bethany’s request for assistance. It all tied together in his mind. Crumbling palaces, half-built projects, abandoned properties, vacant estates.

  In a moment of surprise, Edmund realized he’d not even paid taxes yet on all of his properties. He didn’t even know how much he had to pay, or if there was back-owing from during the war. He really had to speak with Rayner now.

  But, first, a social visit.

  The corridor in front of him was partially blocked by round tables spread off to the side. Amber organized four maidservants, who carried every colour of fabric imaginable. He passed his books to one of the footman, who jostled his load to ensure a grip.

  “Bring all this to my study. Wait, is there a table somewhere in the royal wing that can manage the large map? Somewhere secure?”

  The shorter footman, whose name Edmund couldn’t remember, said, “The queen’s residence.”

  He frowned. “Oh, you mean the original queen’s residence?”

  The man nodded. “Miss Amber has requested that the servants begin moving personal items from the Dowager Queen Olivia’s personal residence. The goal, if I understand correctly, is to move Ambassador Lady Lendra into the royal residence, as Her Majesty does not wish the chambers herself.”