Queen of the Unwanted

by Jenna Glass

  Mairah’s heart squeezed with yearning, but she knew she would be a fool to indulge the fantasy. “That is not among my options,” she said more sharply than she meant to. Thanks to Kailee’s tutoring, Mairah could now understand a reasonable amount of Continental, though her ability to speak it lagged far behind. And yet every other barrier to escape remained firmly in place.

  “Perhaps not at this moment,” Kailee responded. “But you are a clever woman, and you are not without friends. With a little—”

  “Don’t,” Mairah interrupted. “Don’t make me want something I can’t have.”

  “Tell me all the reasons why you must return to Khalpar. Perhaps I can help you eliminate some of them.”

  Mairah shook her head, wondering if she herself had ever had the kind of optimism Kailee possessed. She could hardly remember who she had been as a young woman. By the time she’d been Kailee’s age, she’d been locked behind the walls of the Abbey, any youthful spirit she might have possessed crushed.

  “To name them all would take far more than the half hour for which you’ve claimed me.”

  “Your escorts are one of them, I presume,” Kailee said, undaunted. “I suppose they would not allow you the luxury of refusing to return with them.”

  If there was one thing Mairah knew about Kailee from their acquaintance so far, it was that she was persistent. She was not about to drop the subject until Mairah answered her questions. “Absolutely not,” she said. “If I tried, I would be declared a traitor and condemned to death. Even if I could somehow get away from them, I am not someone capable of hiding. You cannot see my face, so you don’t know how painfully easy I am to recognize. My fate lies in Khalpar, and it is not within my power or yours to change that.”

  “And if it were within your power?” Kailee asked. “If you had the choice between being the Abbess of Khalpar or being a spell crafter at our Academy, which would you rather?”

  “It’s a pointless question,” Mairah responded, her voice coming out sharp once more despite her attempt to modulate her tone. “I do not have that choice.”

  Kailee sighed and bit her lip, tilting her head downward as if looking at the ground at her feet. She looked suddenly vulnerable, in a way she never had before, her indomitable spirit wavering. “All right, then,” she said quietly. “Let me ask you a different question: do you believe that what your people call the Curse can be undone?”

  Mairah’s skin prickled with sweat, and she was glad Kailee couldn’t see the stricken expression that had no doubt appeared on her face. She knew the people of Women’s Well suspected the true reason she was here, but she hadn’t considered how having guessed her mission might affect Kailee. How could Kailee even stand to be in her presence thinking that Mairah was hard at work trying to destroy her happiness? It made her kindness all the more remarkable. And Mairah’s guilt at having conned the memory potion out of her more severe.

  The prudent thing to do was to brush the question off, steer the conversation into safer waters. Kailee was the closest thing Mairah had had to a friend since her confinement in the Abbey, but she was part of the royal family of Women’s Well. Technically speaking, the enemy. Yet even knowing that, Mairah couldn’t allow Kailee to fear the freedoms she had finally earned would be taken away from her because of Mairah’s mission.

  She dropped her voice so low that Kailee had to lean closer to hear. “There is no one alive today who has the power to undo the Curse,” she confided. “Certain people need to be convinced that every effort is being made to do the impossible, but just because they want to believe it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

  A little of the tension seemed to ease out of Kailee’s posture, and the worried look smoothed out and became once more a smile. “Thank you. And because I feel certain I know the answer to the question you refused to answer, let me assure you that if there’s any way I can arrange for you not to have to go back to the Abbey, I will do it.”

  Impulsively, Mairah threw her arms around Kailee and gave her a hug. “I will miss you a great deal when I am gone,” she said, wishing with all her heart that it were actually possible to stay. “You have been such a good friend to me. The best I’ve had in a long time.”

  Kailee hugged her back, but even in the moment of sentimentality, her natural sense of humor came through. “I’m not sure how to take that when your last best friend poisoned you.” She pulled away from the hug and smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in the smile. “Until I came here, I had never known true friendship before.” She pointed at her eyes. “These meant that respectable families did not want their daughters spending time with me, and though there were servants who were fond of me, they were never friends.”

  “It is they who are blind if they cannot see what a treasure you are.” Mairah shook her head in frustration at how…shallow people could be. “People look at us and see my face and your eyes and they never bother to look deeper, to see us for who we really are.”

  “Exactly.” Kailee nodded. “I believe it will be better here in Women’s Well, but that doesn’t make me any more eager to lose my first ever friend.” Mairah opened her mouth to protest, but Kailee didn’t give her the chance. “Do not make the mistake of underestimating me.”

  Mairah let her protest die, for though she hated that Kailee was getting her hopes up, it was clear the girl had no intention of giving up. “Only a fool would do that. I am not a fool.”

  Kailee smiled triumphantly. “It’s settled, then.”

  Mairah shook her head, already feeling guilty for the hurt and disappointment Kailee would suffer when she realized this was one battle she could not win.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Star gave the tapestry a glare that would have melted steel, but that didn’t silence the furtive knocking that came from the door behind it.

  “I think I liked it better when you two were fighting,” the maid muttered under her breath, though Ellin was sure the woman was secretly pleased the marriage negotiations had resumed—albeit with a frustrating lack of progress.

  Ellin gently took the hairbrush from her maid’s hand and set it on the dressing table. For all that relations between them had thawed of late, this was the first time Zarsha had come knocking on the secret door since their fight, and she found herself ill prepared to meet him in such intimate circumstances. It was scandalous enough to be allowing a man into her bedroom at night, but to let him see her in her nightdress suggested a different kind of intimacy altogether.

  Not that he hadn’t seen her indecently clothed before, although on that occasion she had let him in only because she thought it was Graesan at the door—and Graesan’s attempt on Zarsha’s life had so outshone the impropriety that she’d barely noticed.

  “If he’s to be my husband, then I suppose there’s no harm in letting him in,” she said reluctantly.

  “I should advise you against it,” Star murmured as she went to open the door, “but I haven’t the heart.”

  “Nor the hypocrisy.”

  Star gave her a mock glare. Ellin grabbed her dressing gown and wrapped it around herself as the door opened.

  Zarsha was still dressed in his evening best—a doublet of granite gray over black breeches, so somber that if he were not a man of Nandel, she’d have thought him in mourning. Once upon a time, she’d found the austerity of his color choices off-putting, just as she’d found his blue eyes cold. But the two of them had shared so much over the past year or so—both the good and the bad—that she now saw the inherent warmth of the man behind the colorless trappings. Even when those blue eyes looked troubled and he did not flash her his customary smile. He bowed to her, and he even gave Star a respectful nod.

  “Forgive me for disturbing you this late,” he said. He shifted uncomfortably, looking strangely hesitant for a man who always made such a great show of confidence. “I shouldn’t…” He huffed. “I’m sorry. I
’ll let you get some rest.”

  Ellin and Star exchanged a puzzled look as Zarsha bowed again, seeming for all the world like he was about to walk right back out.

  “You don’t honestly think I’m going to let you leave after that,” Ellin said dryly, freezing Zarsha in his tracks.

  “If you do,” Star added unnecessarily, “then you don’t know our lady as well as you think.” She stepped neatly in front of him, firmly drawing the bolts on the secret door and settling the tapestry back in place. She turned to Ellin. “I’ll just wait in the sitting room until you’re ready.”

  Ellin gave the maid a grateful smile. There was very little chance anyone—except Zarsha—would disturb the queen at this hour of the night, but just in case, it was nice to have Star on watch. Ellin wasn’t sure how vulnerable the reputation of an unmarried queen might be, but she had no wish to test it. Zarsha cast one longing look at the secret door as Star slipped out, then sighed and turned back to face Ellin.

  “I really shouldn’t have come,” he said, and there was a flush of what looked like embarrassment in his cheeks.

  “Well, you have come, so it’s a little late for regrets now.” She gestured toward the chairs by the fireplace. “Now sit down and tell me why you’re here.”

  It all came out sounding rather more peremptory than she’d have liked, but it was hard to know how to act around this awkward, uncomfortable version of Zarsha. In any case, he did not seem to mind her tone, crossing to his habitual chair and sitting with a little bit more stiffness than usual. Holding her dressing gown tightly closed, she took her own seat, tucking her scandalously bare feet as far under the chair as possible and hoping the drape of her nightclothes would keep them from view.

  “I’m being a selfish ass,” Zarsha confided, and a hint of his usual smile flashed briefly across his face before disappearing once more.

  Ellin smiled more broadly, unable to resist teasing him despite—or perhaps because of—his obvious discomfort. “You consider this remarkable in some way?”

  He drew himself up to his full height and shook his head. “You wound me, Your Majesty.”

  “And yet I am the one set to perish of curiosity. I can’t imagine what has made you so…unlike yourself.” Considering all the scandalous and uncomfortable conversations they’d had in the past, she had no practical guess as to what might ail him now.

  Zarsha folded his hands together in his lap, his thumbnails rubbing idly against each other. He visibly steeled himself before speaking. “My—” He cleared his throat. “Princess Elwynne, who may or may not be my daughter, apparently suffered a bad fall while playing on the battlements.”

  Ellin gasped in sympathy, and against her better judgment, she reached out and touched his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Is she all right?”

  Zarsha sighed heavily and seemed to relax all at once. He met her eyes, and the relief in his gaze was impossible to miss. “She will be, though she has a couple of broken bones.”

  “The poor thing,” Ellin said, even as she realized that Zarsha’s unease had been caused by fear that her jealousy of his former lover might make her less than sympathetic. She’d have taken offense at the idea, if she weren’t so well aware that she’d deserved his caution.

  An ugly thought speared through her, and her breath caught in her throat. “Are you sure it was an accident?”

  Zarsha winced, but nodded. “Reasonably sure,” he said, though she heard the doubt in his voice. “As cold and cruel as my uncle can be, I don’t believe he would harm a child. But still…The timing is disturbing.”

  Right after the marriage negotiations had resumed, he meant. “You think your uncle may be trying to warn you of the price of defiance?”

  He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “I truly believe it was an accident. But she could have died, just the same, and it’s made me realize just how much faith I’ve been putting in my own judgment.” He opened his eyes and sat up straight once more, his jaw set with determination.

  “Just because I believe he would not harm a child doesn’t mean I’m right. It is unspeakably arrogant of me to act as though my beliefs are facts.”

  “But what else can you do?” she asked gently. “I’m sure Prince Waldmir has guarded against the possibility that you might want to spirit the child away, so you have no way to protect her other than to try to give him whatever he wants.”

  Zarsha nodded, his face uncommonly grim as he reached out and took both her hands and looked into her face imploringly. “The only other thing I can do is make plans for what to do if I’m wrong.” His hands squeezed hers a little more tightly than was comfortable, but she didn’t complain. “If something should ever happen to me,” he said gruffly, “might you be willing to help my daughter?”

  Ellin was momentarily struck speechless—not so much by what Zarsha was asking of her, but by the thought of something happening to him. They’d spoken about the dangers of his secrets, but she’d taken his assurances at face value and never considered the possibility that Waldmir might decide to kill him after all.

  “I think I am safe,” he continued, “and I think Elwynne is safe. I don’t mean to be alarmist. But that fall…” He shivered. “The poor child doesn’t have a friend in the world besides me, and I can do next to nothing for her.”

  Ellin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the racing of her heart. Later, she would think about what it meant that she’d been so paralyzed with fear at the thought of Zarsha’s death. But for now, she would try to concentrate on more practical concerns. “What is it you think I can do for her?”

  “I will cancel the arrangements I’ve made to release any information that might put her legitimacy—and the legitimacy of Waldmir’s rule—in question. As long as she is still recognized as his daughter, you can offer him a future husband for her here in Rhozinolm, and tell him you will provide her dowry.”

  “She’s only four!” Ellin protested.

  “But it is not unusual for a child of a sovereign to be promised well before she reaches marriageable age. Surely you can find some nobleman with a young son whom you can tempt with a dowry. And if that nobleman should prefer that Elwynne be raised in Rhozinolm, that would be all the better.”

  “But…why would Waldmir agree to such a thing?”

  “The moment I am gone, she ceases to be of any value to him. He feels no paternal affection toward her, and she is nothing more than a weapon he can use against me. He will throw her away like so much refuse, sending her to the Abbey—unless he has a better alternative. Without the need to torment me, I expect he would be happy enough to send her to Rhozinolm. He would never have to see her again, and he would be spared the shame of having his daughter sent to the Abbey.”

  She regarded him in silence for a moment, until he reluctantly added, “And if he still does not agree, you can admit that I told you I might be her father. And that I shared his other deep, dark secret, as well.”

  “So basically, you want me to blackmail him on your behalf.”

  “Basically,” he said with a pale imitation of his usual grin.

  She met his eyes, moved in unexpected ways by his request. “You would forego your revenge entirely for the sake of a girl who may not even be your daughter,” she said.

  “Of course I would,” he answered immediately. “What good does revenge do a dead man?”

  She flinched, her heart skipping a beat at the thought. “But he will not act against you,” she said with more certainty than she felt. “You are merely feeling vulnerable because of the child’s accident.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. But I would rest easier if I knew she would be taken care of.”

  “Can we bring her here anyway?” Ellin asked wistfully, although she already knew the answer.

  Zarsha rubbed his face as if weary. “I truly wish we could. But as lo
ng as I live, she is his leverage against me, and he will not give her up. Even if I promised never to reveal what I know, he would never trust me if he did not have a hostage.”

  The pain in Zarsha’s eyes made her heart ache, as did the thought of a helpless little girl trapped in the custody of a man who despised her for no good reason. It was unthinkably cruel to hold an innocent child responsible for the sins of her parents. Not to mention that Waldmir might be her father after all.

  “Will you make me that promise, Ellin? I know it’s a lot to ask—”

  Ellin interrupted him with a scathing look. “I know I reacted poorly to what you told me, and I will freely admit that I entertained some irrational jealousy, but unlike your uncle, I would never hold it against a little girl who had no part in it. I will put some thought into how I can best help her. And once you and I are married and Rhozinolm’s alliance with Nandel is solidified, we will find a way to bring her here—or at least get her away from Waldmir—without you having to die to make it happen.”

  Zarsha rose from his chair and came to kneel at her feet, taking her hands in his. He bent and kissed the back of first one hand, then the other, the touch of his lips against her skin making her whole body tingle, though he was not attempting to be seductive.

  “You are more than I deserve,” he murmured as he looked up into her eyes.

  She met his gaze and was surprised by the flush of heat that suffused her. Her body thrummed with a sensation she had not felt since the days when Graesan shared her bed. And for the first time, she allowed herself to admit that this marriage of theirs—should they manage to make it happen—might be about more than just those trade agreements.

  * * *

  —

  Mairah settled on the floor as comfortably as possible beneath the sheet she had draped over the writing desk. Thanks to the success of her test with the seer’s poison, she no longer had to spend her nights frantically trying to secure her position as abbess, but since she did not want Norah to know about that success until the last possible moment, she had to keep up the charade.