"Oh," Freddie said, "one more thing."
Samuel turned back.
"He does business with other kingdoms," Freddie said, "You asked what he did. I left that out. He's got a lot going on with Lamonte."
Ra'sha stepped into Catherine's chambers, her heart beating wildly in her chest. It was time for her to make her move, but she was afraid. She wasn't ashamed to admit that to herself. This was like nothing she'd ever done before, and she felt fear, real fear bubbling up in her chest.
"Lady Swin," Catherine said, raising both eyebrows. "What a pleasure. Please, come in."
Ra'sha stepped up to the bed. She spared half a glance at Matilyn and then said, "Princess Catherine. It's lovely to see you. I was hoping we might speak privately for a moment though?"
Catherine glanced at Matilyn. The commander seemed almost asleep in her chair, her eyes only half open. She cleared her throat. "Commander Malevus?"
"I shouldn't leave you alone," Matilyn said. She sat up straighter in her chair.
Catherine laughed. "Do you believe that the Lady Swin is going to do away with me while you're standing guard outside?"
Ra'sha glanced at Matilyn again. Their eyes met for a brief moment and then Matilyn looked away. "I suppose not. I'll give you two a few minutes then. I'll be right outside if you need me, Princess."
Catherine waved a dismissive hand. Matilyn stood up and left.
"What can I do for you?" Catherine said to Ra'sha.
Ra'sha took Matilyn's previously occupied seat, clasping her hands gently on her lap. She met Catherine's gaze. "I was supposed to be queen."
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Since I was a child," Ra'sha said, "It's all I heard. I was to marry Oliver and become queen of Terifille. Certainly you know this."
"I've heard tales of it, yes," Catherine said, "But I cannot help what was not my decision. It was King Sander's choice, in the end. Surely, you hold no grudge?"
Ra'sha shrugged, "Not against you," she said, "but you can see how I'd feel robbed of a chance of great power."
Catherine nodded, "You have my most sincere apologies for that."
"I don't want apologies," Ra'sha said. She took a breath and then said quickly, "I want a chance at the power I was denied."
Catherine's eyes widened slightly, "What are you suggesting, Lady Swin? That I step down as the betrothed to Prince Oliver? I cannot do that."
"No," Ra'sha said, "I know that you've been given your duty, as has Oliver. I've heard rumors though, that there is something afoot here in the castle."
Catherine tilted her head, "What sort of rumors?"
"Rumors that there are positions for people who seek power," Ra'sha said.
"You never came across as the sort that would be interested in that sort of thing," Catherine told her. "What changed your mind?"
Ra'sha shrugged, "I'm not immune to the ideas that power portrays. I spent years of my life dreaming of the day when I'd take the crown. I've been denied of that prestige. I want to take power elsewhere."
Catherine considered this for a moment, "You were quite close to Oliver, I assume."
"As close as we could be," Ra'sha said, "I've never felt love for the boy, no. He's easily manipulated, and quite seemingly led by the nose. I'm sure you've discovered that yourself."
For a moment, Ra'sha thought she'd gone too far. Then Catherine laughed. "Oh yes," she said, "I've certainly discovered that about him. Your father is one of the wealthiest men in this kingdom, is he not? And you will inherit a good portion of his business when he dies."
Ra'sha nodded, "My sister has no interest in the family business. I have a cousin that will share the estate with me, but most of the gold will be left to me."
"I could use someone with that amount of influence on the people," Catherine mused. "You could definitely come in handy."
Ra'sha nodded.
"I expect absolute loyalty from the people that I choose to work with," Catherine said. "I wouldn't want you to get some kind of idea about switching allegiances down the road."
Ra'sha shook her head, "You will be the queen of both Lamonte and Terifille. Eventually, you will be queen of Arinford as well, when your father takes it over. There are numerous other kingdoms that will be under your control; Serjya, Rafix, Fairenthe... all of Cartharia, if your father is successful in his plans. I would have no reason to betray you."
"My father will not be successful," Catherine said, "he does not look at the necessity of things. He runs on ideals alone. He wants to make Cartharia a better place. I want to rule it with an iron fist. Do you see the difference?"
"An iron fist would certainly keep people in line better," Ra'sha said. "If you do not believe your father to be successful, what will you do?"
Catherine shrugged, "I have ideas on how to handle him," she said, "I'm not planning on sharing those so soon. If you want to serve me, I will allow it, if only because you seem to be the sort to share my particular methodology when it comes to Prince Oliver."
"Thank you," Ra'sha said, "I won't disappoint you."
"I call the people that work for me my Left Hand," Catherine told her. "You operate in secret, out of the limelight. You may never get glory or honor, but you will have power. Does that satisfy you?"
"Does power go hand in hand with revenge?" Ra'sha asked. "I want to even out the injustices that were done to me when my power was denied."
Catherine looked her over and then laughed again, high and tinkling, "I like you," she said. "We're going to be great friends."
Ra'sha glanced briefly at the door. She knew Matilyn would be on the other side, waiting for them to finish. She forced a smile to her lips, trying her best to hide her revulsion. "Indeed, we are."
Matilyn waited patiently outside the door for Ra'sha to appear. When she did, Matilyn flashed her an uneasy smile. "How'd it go?"
Ra'sha met her gaze, and then carefully stepped closer, "She believes I will aide her. We can't talk now. She'll become suspicious if you don't enter soon. Come over later. I'll tell you everything."
Matilyn nodded, watching Ra'sha walk away. She stepped back into Catherine's chambers. "What was that about?"
"She wished to speak to me about the wedding," Catherine said loftily, "Can you believe it? She's actually jealous of me. I wouldn't have thought it."
"Jealous?" Matilyn repeated, "Of you? Why? Because you're going to marry Prince Oliver?"
Catherine nodded.
"She'll get over it," Matilyn said. "Though if she's showing her jealousy so openly, perhaps that does point to the Swin family as the attackers. I'll look into her more closely over the next few days."
"Whatever you feel is best," Catherine said. She seemed to dismiss the matter then, sinking back into her pillows. "Now, what are we going to do about my wedding?"
"The king is still not comfortable with moving forward with it," Matilyn said. "But your father is getting impatient. King Sanders knows he will have to allow it to happen soon. There will be hundreds of guards present, of course, and you'll never be left alone."
"Except for in my marriage bed," Catherine said with a lift of her eyebrows, "Unless, that is, you wish to watch us consummate the wedding?"
"I think I can do without that," Matilyn said, "But there will be guards outside your doors. I know it is not very romantic, but we cannot take any chances with your life."
Catherine nodded, "I suppose I can understand the necessity of that. Though Oliver can protect me. He's an excellent swordsman from what I've heard."
Matilyn shrugged, "Perhaps. We're not willing to take chances."
"When will the wedding happen then?" Catherine said, "Is there a date set?"
"Not yet," Matilyn said, "We thought we'd celebrate your birthdate first. It is soon. The people will have a chance to see that you are fully well and healed and have the chance to celebrate you. Then we will have the wedding."
Catherine let out a long suffering sigh. "Of course. I suppose it wouldn't hurt
to show the people that I am still perfectly capable of being the queen they deserve."
"Indeed," Matilyn said. "And after the wedding, once we know you are safe, Commander Frien and I will return to Lamonte."
"I bet you can't wait," Catherine said with a smirk. "No, don't deny it. You hate being here."
Matilyn frowned, "I actually quite enjoy it here," she admitted, "The weather is quite nice, and the city people are some of the nicest I've met. Terifille would not be a bad place to settle down."
Catherine shook her head, "You want to return to the war, though."
"I do," Matilyn allowed. "That much is undeniable. I want to help your father and his vision for Cartharia. As does Commander Frien."
"I remember when the two of you couldn't stand to be in the same room," Catherine said, "What changed? You seem so close now."
Matilyn didn't like speaking to Catherine. She felt dislike rise up in her throat. She swallowed it back down. It was better to be polite now than to risk the princess's wrath later when time was of the essence. "We share the same views. It's impossible to stay angry with a person who believes in the same ideals."
"Are you sleeping together?" Catherine asked sweetly.
Matilyn sighed.
"No, I suppose not," Catherine said, "Though I did hear a rumor about a young woman here in the castle. I can't recall her name exactly. Lenelle? Lissa? Something like that. Refresh my memory."
"I don't wish to speak of my intimate relationships," Matilyn said.
"I will someday be your queen," Catherine said, "That was not a request."
Matilyn sighed, "Her name was Lynelli."
"Aha," Catherine said, "I knew it started with an L. Tell me, what drew you to her?"
"She was very bright," Matilyn said. She felt her old embarrassment and shame over the Lynelli fiasco rise up. Since the night outside her bedchambers, she hadn't seen any sign of the girl. It seemed like she'd finally moved on.
"Yes," Catherine said, "I suppose she was."
She went silent then, for which Matilyn was grateful. She wished it had been Samuel here this night, instead of her. She had no wish to continue to speak to Catherine. None at all.
Matilyn knew it was wrong to so strongly dislike the daughter of the Good King. Certainly the girl had good qualities; if she disliked her, she also respected her. Catherine was intelligent, and quite good at controlling situations. If she was another person, a person with a softer disposition, she'd make a good ruler herself.
Still, the manipulations and the deceit caused Matilyn quite a bit of unease. She had no real idea how they were going to stop her and Oliver from their plans to assassinate the king. Their closest resource was Ra'sha.
She hated involving the other woman. She knew it wasn't fair to ask; that it could be dangerous, deadly even. She hadn't seen any other option though. Ra'sha had seemed fine with the plan anyway.
Matilyn still needed to speak to her father. She had no idea how she'd convince Aaron to allow his daughter to set sail for Lamonte; especially since it seemed like she was the one being groomed to take over the family business.
She could understand the woman's urge to get away though. Matilyn had always wanted to travel when she was younger too. The war had given her an excuse to do that, but she always felt as if she would have left at some point anyway.
For the first time in awhile, her mind turned to Penny. They'd planned on traveling together, when they'd been dating. They'd talked about getting married and then visiting different kingdoms, experiencing more of the world.
Matilyn felt a sudden, sharp pang of loneliness. She knew she could find company in the castle. She didn't want that, though. She wanted what she had with Penny. It hadn't been all about the romance. There had been a solid base of friendship too, and that wasn't something easily found.
"Do you miss her?"
Matilyn was so startled by this question that for a moment, she thought Catherine had been reading her mind.
"Lynelli," Catherine clarified, "Do you miss her?"
"No," Matilyn said honestly. "Not at all."
Catherine studied her for a long moment. Then she smiled. "No," she agreed, "I don't suppose you would."
THIRTY-FIVE
More in Sorrow than in Anger
PENNY AND CHRISSA RAN BACK THROUGH THE streets, avoiding other people who had come out. There were dozens of homes on fire throughout the street; not just small fires either but roaring flames that engulfed them fully.
"What happened?" Chrissa called over to Penny, her eyes wide. Penny thought the young woman looked close to panicking. She couldn't blame her. The last time there had been a spread of fires was during the original attack on Valishna.
"I don't know!" Penny called back. She could feel her own heart thumping wildly. "Let's get to my house!"
Chrissa nodded, speeding up. Penny had to try and keep up with her. As the two ran, they noticed the rest of the city hurrying around as well. There were some that were hurrying to their own homes, and others that were panicking like Chrissa.
Letting out an oof Penny tripped and landed on the ground, skinning her chin. She looked up to see Chrissa glance back, hesitate, and then stop. The teenager hurried back and offered a hand down.
"Thanks," Penny said, pulling herself to her feet.
"Let's go," Chrissa said in response, tugging at her hand.
"Where are you going?" the question came from a Lamonte soldier. He had stepped out from one of the shops beside them, "What's the hurry, ladies?"
Penny nearly cried out in shock. She checked herself at the last moment though, thinking of her companion and then offered the soldier a smile. "It doesn't seem as if it were a safe time for a lady to be in the streets," she pointed out, "Surely you could understand."
The soldier folded his arms, staring at her, "The city of Valishna is a wonderful place for all to live under King Sullivan." The menace in his tone was unmistakable.
"King Sullivan--" Chrissa started to say heatedly but Penny elbowed her quietly.
"King Sullivan is of course a great man, but we aren't speaking of the city itself," Penny gestured around, "There are fires. Even the king is not flame-retardant."
The soldier blinked and followed her gesture with his eyes. The surprise was amusing on his face, "The hell is going on?" he drew his sword.
Chrissa drew in a sharp breath but didn't speak.
"Well?" He looked between the two of them, "There's a lot of fires in the area and here you two are running like you're the ones on fire. Seems pretty suspicious to me."
"I don't know what you're talking about. There's fires. Of course we're going to run," Penny said quietly. She tried to step in front of Chrissa but the girl moved with her, keeping herself in view. She folded her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels.
The soldier looked between the two of them, considering. He raised his eyes to the fire again and then lowered them onto Penny, "I'm not sure I believe you. Either of you." His gaze flicked to Chrissa, "You see, there's been a lot of odd incidents like this going on lately. Know anything about that?"
"You're being ridiculous," Penny snapped. She had adopted the same tone she'd heard her father use, and her mother, and any other person who felt they were entitled. It was a tone suggesting they were above talking to such people. "We were merely on our way home and we saw the fires and then I tripped and now you're stoping us."
Smirking, the soldier took a step closer, "Maybe that's so," he conceded, "But I doubt I'd be a good follower of King Sullivan if I merely let you go without questioning. That could be a huge liability. After all, you could be antagonists of peace."
Penny narrowed her eyes, "The only one who is disturbing the peace here is you. I would suggest you get back to work, soldier, and figure out what is causing those fires."
Without a warning, the soldier struck out, hitting Penny across the mouth. She stumbled back in surprise, her hand lifting to wipe her mouth. She was bleeding.
"I w
ill not have anyone talk down to me," the soldier said in a dangerous tone, "I'm here, promoting equality and peace, while you are no doubt one of the wealthy, holed up in your home, making it more difficult for innocent people to find food or medicine."
Penny felt the flicker of anger leap up inside of her. She struggled for self-control. Despite her attempt, she spat out, "Because hypocrisy is the true promoter of equality. Allowing the wealthy to keep there money and positions so that they give you the gold to slaughter innocents."
The soldier's face turned red with anger this time but instead of sticking Penny again, he took a step towards Chrissa. The teenager met his gaze, her own expression devoid of emotion.
"I think I'll take your little friend here for questioning," he leered, "Maybe once the two of us have had some fun, you'll be more open to talking."
Penny made another move to step in front of Chrissa, "Don't you dare touch her."
"Penny," Chrissa said softly, "Move."
"That's right," the soldier said, "Move. Your little friend here obviously has no qualms about it."
Penny glared at him and then turned to glare at Chrisms. The look in the young woman's eyes caused her to take a step backwards out of surprise.
The soldier stepped forward, making a swipe at Chrissa's arm. She allowed him to tug her forward, against him. He gripped a hand to her butt and yanked her tight.
Before Penny knew what was happening, his eyes opened wide in shock and he let out a moan. A second later, he slumped in Chrissa's arms. She shoved him off of herself. In her hand, she was clutching the long, seated dagger that Penny had seen Mike give her. It was covered in thick blood.
Penny reacted instantly, grabbing Chrissa's arm and yanking her forward. The teenager looked dazed, staring down at the body. "Chrissa! Come on! Let's get out of here!"
Shaking her head to clear it, Chrissa darted after Penny. The two of them didn't stop until they reached Penny's estate.
Alicia met Penny at the door. She gave a half-curtsey and smiled. Since George had come into the house, she had been much less shy. Penny had come to enjoy her energetic manner. She refused to have anything to do with the resistance but she had come to know almost everyone personally; something Penny was very pleased by.
Revolution (Cartharia Book 2) Page 37