Guardian of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  Willow struggled briefly with herself, and discretion won the day. “I’m sure whichever harem Gessala chooses will appreciate her,” she said.

  Footsteps sounded behind them. “We will leave now,” Janida said. She straightened the front of her jacket, revealing a little more skin, and added, “I had hoped to see Takjashi here. That unfortunate for us is.”

  “Because it shows they aren’t willing to listen to our request?” Willow said.

  “Indeed. They may choose to avoid us as a sign that they will follow Abakian’s lead. We must approach them more directly.”

  They took the long way around the edge of the hall, examining displays they hadn’t yet seen. Willow saw a few more Devices, none of which did anything practical. Not that she could come up with any ideas for practical Devices herself, but then she didn’t understand enough about them to know the possibilities. Kerish probably did. How worried should she be that Gessala had seen the remnants of what they’d had between them? That others might see it too? The last thing she wanted was for Janida to know Willow had been in love with her son.

  The carriages were waiting for them when they emerged from the palace. The sun was setting behind it, throwing cool shadows over the courtyard. No one spoke much on the journey back to the Residence aside from a brief comparison of notes on whom the harem sisters had spoken to, so Willow leaned back and closed her eyes and let her mind wander, soothed by the flowing sound of Eskandelic words.

  Back in the Residence, she changed into more comfortable clothes and put away the formal wear with a shudder. All right, it hadn’t been that bad except for some chafing, but it was still a reminder that she didn’t belong here.

  She crossed to the window and looked out at the ocean, which was golden in the light of the setting sun. Now that she knew where to look, she could see ships sailing away to the west, from the docks that lay beyond her sight. It seemed the Eskandelic love of beauty extended to putting their important but utilitarian activities where they wouldn’t intrude on anyone’s sensibilities. The ships were all too far away for her to see whether or not they were beautiful. They probably were.

  “Suppertime,” Kerish said, and she half-turned to see him standing in the doorway with his hand on the frame. “How was the Review?”

  “Fascinating. I didn’t really realize how much your culture cares about art until today. Do harems really choose their members based on how well they draw?”

  “Sometimes. Artistic skill reveals much about someone’s character. But there’s more to it than that—there’s personality, and compatibility, and the kind of man the Prince is…it can take months for a harem to know enough to make a decision. Or for the woman to make her choice.”

  “So who has the final say? The harems, or the women?”

  “Before the end of Conclave, the harems will make offers to the woman they believe is best suited to them. Then the woman decides whether she wants to marry that principality. It’s more complicated than it sounds. My majdran Alondra had many offers, I’m told.”

  “I heard that today.” Was Salveri the reason she’d picked Serjian Principality? Willow still couldn’t imagine sleeping with a man old enough to be her father.

  “Anyway,” Kerish said, “I wondered if you’d like to see the scholia tomorrow. Felix wants to show you the animals, and I thought you’d be interested in the Devices.”

  “I thought I was busy all day tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow the harem will sort the invitations they receive and plan their schedule for the next few weeks. They won’t need you.”

  “Then I’d like that.”

  “We might have time to see the ocean.” He sounded slightly too casual, and it made Willow uncomfortable, as if he were offering something intimate. Which he sort of was.

  “All right,” she said, just as casually. “If there’s time.”

  Felix wasn’t there when they arrived at the dining room. “He asked to eat with Posea,” Catrela explained. “I thought he might enjoy being just a child for once.”

  “And this meal is for talking,” Salveri said, as he and Janida took their seats on the fat cushions, leaving Willow and the rest to follow their example. “I have learned much today, and not all of it good is.”

  “The show trials,” Jauman said. He was a tall, thin boy of about fourteen who cared for only two things: dogs, and his fuoreno Kerish’s approval. He held a bowl of steamed vegetables above his plate, forgotten, and his eyes gleamed excitement. “Did Nanitan do well?”

  “Very well,” Salveri said, “and next year you will an adult be and see for yourself. But it is not the dogs that disturb me. All the talk was of Mahnouki’s proposed voyage. It has captured the imaginations of the princes. Promised riches, new lands…they think little of the dangers and uncertainties of such an endeavor. For the most, they see our question as unimportant next to that.”

  “It is not the princes we must sway,” Giara said, and reached across the table to take the bowl from her son.

  “No, but it may be the princes will sway their harems,” said Janida. “Who were those not allured by Mahnouki?”

  “Jamighian,” Salveri said, “which is not surprising, because Vijenci as logical as Issobela is. Though this does not mean they intend us to support. Still, they are worth courting. Haroutjian, Bokaji, Tangheli—they all will not follow Mahnouki. Also, surprisingly, Abakian. Benjedan is set in his ways and dislikes novelty. Unfortunately, Raena will not allow him to vote for us. Still, it means one vote fewer for Mahnouki, unless Adorinda can convince her.”

  “They are still names to add to my list,” Janida said, “and I think we will host a gathering for them.”

  “What of Takjashi?” said Alondra.

  “I am increasingly convinced Lucea is following where Abakian leads,” Catrela said. “They have rejected every attempt I have made at contact, and I have yet to find a way into their residence.”

  “Could I try?” Willow said, trying not to sound too eager.

  “You would not know what information to look for, and you cannot read Eskandelic,” Catrela said, “though likely you would more capable than I of entering be. No, for now I think we should act as if Takjashi an enemy is.”

  “The kind of enemy that would send assassins into another principality’s Residence?” Willow said.

  Catrela exchanged glances with Janida, who nodded. “Takjashi has strong trading ties with Tremontane,” Catrela said, “and they almost certainly knew of the pretender’s coup before anyone else did. They also a strong contender for vojenta mahaut are. Terence Valant might have reached out to them as potential new rulers of Eskandel. We must find some way of learning what they know.”

  “Then tonight is for sending invitations,” Janida said, pushing her empty plate away, “and tomorrow for accepting them. Be ready, Willow North.”

  “I will,” Willow said, and tried to feel as certain as she sounded.

  Chapter Five

  They took a carriage to the Domian scholia the next day, though it wasn’t very far from the Residence. “No sense exhausting ourselves and getting sweaty,” Kerish said, “and this is easier on Felix’s guard.”

  The guards Janida had assigned Felix were a pair of very large men armed with swords and knives who looked as though they had no sense of humor whatsoever. They wore Serjian livery, which matched what was on the pennant they’d carried with them on their entrance to Umberan: crimson and white, with a red eagle on the chest of the slim robes they wore over their leather armor. They were sweating despite not having to walk, which made Willow feel sorry for them, but she was pretty sure expressing sympathy would get her nothing except a disdainful look. Their eyes were constantly moving, watching for threats against Felix, and she had a feeling they’d only protect her if her injury or even death endangered their actual charge.

  “I can’t wait to see the animals, can you, Willow?” Felix said, and Willow once again had to tug on his shirt to get him to sit down. “He said there are jungle
cats, and wild boar, and snakes—”

  “That’s exciting, Felix,” Willow said, shuddering. “Are they poisonous?”

  Felix gave her the same disdainful look she’d imagined on the guard. “They’re venomous,” he said. “Poisonous means something you eat that is poison, and venomous means an animal that has poison in it.”

  “I beg your pardon for not knowing that extremely vital and obvious difference,” Willow said. “Now can we talk about something other than snakes? What about Devices? Can you build them yet, Kerish?”

  “I’m still learning how they work,” Kerish said. “I can imbue motive forces with source—that’s easy, it’s just like dowsing—and I’ve designed one or two. But I learn more every day. Oh, here we are.”

  The carriage passed beneath a low arch of twining green branches, inside which Willow could sense the chill of iron bars bent into hoops to give them a framework. It opened on a long avenue lined by tall, thick hedges that smelled fresh and wet in the muggy morning air, so different from the dry heat of an Aurilien summer. Later in the day it would feel like being swathed in wet cotton wool, but for now it was comfortable, if alien.

  Beyond the hedges Willow glimpsed the tops of white domes. From her position at the base of the hedges, they looked like they were pushing their way up through the dark greenery. At the far end of the avenue, the grounds opened up on the same kind of grass she’d seen at the place where the Review was held. It all looked beautiful, and wealthy, and Willow once again felt uncomfortable, like an imposter welcomed into Eskandelic royalty by accident. It reminded her that she was completely out of place here.

  They emerged from the avenue into a wide, grassy lawn crisscrossed by paths made of gray stone that looked as ancient as the paved streets of the city. Men and women dressed casually in multicolored robes over white or tan linen trousers and shirts and white headwraps strolled along the paths, some of them leading slim dogs, others carrying books or scrolls. They paid no attention to the carriage, which came to a stop in front of a domed building with a pillared portico that curved around its front.

  One of the guards stepped down from the carriage and passed through the opening beyond the portico that looked very dark to Willow’s light-adjusted eyes. The other put a hand on Felix’s shoulder when he would have followed. “Not yet, your Majesty,” he said in thickly accented Tremontanese.

  “Is it really likely there’s danger here?” Kerish asked.

  “We have to assume there’s danger everywhere,” Willow replied. The guard looked at her with something approaching approval. Felix sat back down.

  The first guard returned. “You can enter, your Majesty,” he said in the same thick accent, and Felix hopped down and followed the man inside. Willow and Kerish came behind them at a slower pace.

  “This is the Devisers’ hall,” Kerish told her. “Dowsers from all over Eskandel, and a few from Veribold, come here to learn Devisery.”

  “And Devisery is…creating Devices?”

  “That, and imbuing motive forces, and repairing Devices. It’s fascinating. I hope you’ll like it.”

  He was more animated than she’d seen him since the night he’d set all this in motion, and her uncomfortable feeling increased. She’d seen him dowse, and he clearly loved it, but this…this was something else entirely. She smiled, but said nothing. Anything that excited Kerish this much had to be interesting.

  The dark doorway, once Willow’s eyes adjusted, proved to open on a hall lined with doors labeled in Eskandelic script. Kerish opened the third door on the left without knocking and gestured for the rest of them to enter, then had to step back as the burly guard went through first, nearly shoving him out of the way. “Your Majesty,” he called out, and Felix and Kerish entered, followed by Willow and the other guard. Willow tried not to be annoyed. This was to keep Felix safe, and that was more important than politeness.

  The walls of the room were tiled in beautiful abstract mosaics and lined with black lacquered tables ornamented with burning gilt. All of them held small filigree boxes made of aromatic woods, some of which glowed with pale blue or white or green light. The smells from the boxes blended with each other to make a soft, subtle scent that permeated the room without being overwhelming. It seemed a perfect metaphor for Eskandelic culture in general.

  Two women in bright robes, one embroidered with purple butterflies and the other unadorned red and orange patterned silk, stood at the tables sorting through the metal objects the boxes contained, while a man stood with his fist outstretched over a circle painted on the marble floor. It was lopsided and coarse by comparison to its surroundings.

  The woman in the butterfly robe looked up at their entrance. Her eyes widened as she glanced from one bodyguard to the other. She asked a question in Eskandelic that Kerish answered briefly, then he said, “This is Willow North, King Felix’s guardian. She’s interested in what we do here.”

  “Of course,” the woman said. “Excuse that I do not speak your language good.” She beckoned to Willow, who gave the man at the circle a wide berth. He ignored her. “See, is ezdalha, gives power to surabhi.”

  The box she was sorting contained disks of all sizes, some thin as paper and others almost fat enough to be spherical, in a variety of metals, mostly copper and iron, but a few silver and gold. None of them were glowing, but the box next to that one contained the same objects and all of those glowed with a pale green light.

  “Motive force,” Kerish said, “and you remember surabhi translates as Device.”

  “And the…motive force…is what makes the Device run,” Willow said.

  “Watch this,” Kerish said. He picked up an inch-wide button made of solid gold and took it to the circle. He held out his hand, palm-up, with the button at the center. “It’s just like dowsing, only instead of the source going into a person, it goes into the motive force.”

  Nothing happened. Willow waited. She was used to this. Nobody could see source unless it was being used by an Ascendant, and only a dowser—well, or a Deviser—could sense it. Kerish said to him it was like a melody of chimes.

  “Oh, sorry,” Kerish said. “This is Gomelia, and that’s Pelara, and this is Lorjezi.” He indicated, in turn, the butterfly-gowned woman, the other woman, and the man. “Pelara and Lorjezi don’t speak Tremontanese.” He said something in Eskandelic that included Willow’s name, and Lorjezi briefly focused on Willow, nodded, then returned to staring at his fist, which glowed dark blue. Willow smiled at him out of politeness, but her attention was on the button in Kerish’s hand, which had started glowing a deep gold that was almost a visual representation of the burning Willow sensed from the metal.

  “We don’t know what causes the different colors,” Kerish said. He sounded distant, the way he always did when he was working with source, as if his attention were divided. “It’s not like with Ascendants, where the color of the source is a reflection of the kind of magic they have. It’s one of the things they investigate here.”

  “That seems, well, practical,” Willow said, and Kerish smiled.

  “Aesthetics is important, but so is logic and reason,” he said. The button’s hue was becoming lighter, still yellow-gold, but bright. Lorjezi’s fist radiated a pale blue now, and he opened his hand and revealed a button smaller than Kerish’s that glowed with pale blue light. He said something to Kerish, who replied in that same distant voice, then asked a question. Lorjezi nodded and walked away. “We only have three sources, and those came from far away,” Kerish continued. “What they do here, in this room, is study motive forces, not just to figure out the colors thing, but to see which materials work best to contain source. And then the motive forces go to other…you’d say ‘study groups,’ for using in Devices. Mostly lights, because the scholia wants to light all of Umberan by Device, but there are other artistic and scientific uses.”

  “Can we see the animals yet?” Felix asked.

  “I want to see the Devices first, and then we can look at as many animals as thei
r keeper will let you,” Willow said. “So be patient.”

  “I’m good at being patient. I just don’t like to wait.”

  “Don’t forget we have something special to show Willow,” Kerish said.

  “Oh! I did almost forget. You’re going to love it, Willow!”

  “What is it?”

  “A surprise. A big one.” Felix grabbed her hand. “Let’s go see it now!”

  Kerish spoke to his colleagues briefly, then started to offer the brightly glowing button to Willow before remembering himself and tucking it away in a pocket in his robe. “It’s just across the hall.”

  They repeated the dance with the bodyguards before Willow and Felix were allowed to enter. This room was far bigger than the other, with a domed ceiling supported by arches and a floor tiled in a random pattern of browns and reds. Pedestals topped by slabs of carved mahogany made a pattern of their own across the floor, their plinths spaced six or seven feet apart. Most were empty, but a few held gold or brass or silver Devices, not enough to leave her feeling drunk, but enough that she could feel them even from the doorway.

  “These are the prototype Devices,” Kerish said, taking Willow’s elbow and gently urging her into the room. “Devices that were approved by the Magister for their beauty and artistic value. He has the final say on which Devices are allowed to be reproduced, or put on public display, or purchased for private use. It’s important that Devices meet a high standard, since in a sense they represent our country. Go ahead, look around.”

  Willow moved to the nearest pedestal, trying to ignore the itchy feeling its copper-sheathed neighbor gave her. It was a framed picture on an easel, but made of hundreds of tiny pieces of wood, all shades from pale blond to black ebony, with an intricate weave of fizzing silver and tingling brass concealed beneath it. The mosaic of wood depicted a jungle scene, trees with drooping branches and exotic flowers and vines looping through the trees, all of it so realistic that if it hadn’t been obviously made of wood, she could almost imagine it was moving. Then she caught her breath. It was moving, the pieces shifting slowly so the trees moved in an imperceptible wind. A bird swept across the scene, disappearing into the foliage. One of the vines turned out to be—Willow shuddered—a snake. She watched in fascination until the thing completed its cycle, then said, “It’s amazing. Is this what all the Devices are like?”