“What a shame.” Yesemia even managed to look regretful. “I think we convinced are not, this boy King to support.”
Willow managed to match Yesemia’s regretful look. “You’re right, that is a shame,” she said, and rejoiced to see Yesemia’s expression falter. “But you must do what’s best for your principality. Don’t you agree, your Highness?”
The Najarhian Prince, a thin, long-faced man probably a decade younger than Yesemia, looked startled at being addressed directly. “I…agree,” he said.
“But you want our support,” Yesemia said quickly.
“Well, yes. But not at the cost of your own needs.” Willow thought back over her lessons and pulled a name out of memory. “And Felix does have plenty of support. We have spoken to Torossian, Dekerian…Khalajian.”
Yesemia’s eyes widened fractionally, though it was hard to tell behind all her cosmetics. “Khalajian?”
“They were very vocal about Felix’s cause. Felix, you remember Khalajian Iratia, right? The nice lady with the cats?”
Felix’s eyes were round, and he opened his mouth to say something. Willow glared at him, and he just nodded.
“Khalajian is not nearly the parjenisur Najarhian is,” Yesemia snapped. “You cannot trust them.”
“Really?” Willow let a frown wrinkle her brow. “But they were very open with us.”
“Najarhian will lend you its support, but only if you reject Khalajian.” Yesemia crouched stiffly to be on Felix’s level. “You like cats?”
“I do. I like dogs better, but cats are nice.”
“You will come to my Residence and meet my cats. They will like you.” She stood to face Willow. “What say you?”
“I have your word that you will vote to support the Serjian question? And be parjenisur for us?”
“You have my word,” Yesemia said, but Willow was looking beyond her, at the Prince, who nodded slightly. It probably didn’t matter, it wasn’t as if the Prince had any real power, but Willow had a feeling he had more of a say in how things went in the Najarhian Principality than most princes. He was looking at her with a smile that suggested he, too, knew how to make Yesemia bend.
“Well…it’s true Najarhian is powerful, and Felix appreciates that. I promise he won’t forget you when he reclaims the Crown.” Willow made the bow of one just barely subordinate to another, and was relieved to see Yesemia’s returning bow didn’t claim much greater superiority to her, because showing disrespect to Felix was something Willow would be forced to confront her on, and then all her work would be for nothing.
She graciously excused herself and Felix, who was jigging uncomfortably as if he had to use the facilities. “Come with me, and we’ll find a chamber pot,” she said.
“I don’t need to piss,” Felix said.
“Felix! Where did you learn that kind of language?”
“From you. Willow, you lied to her!”
“Sort of. I implied facts that were not true.”
“…I think that’s the same as lying. The Khalajian lady was rude to me and she was mean to her cats. I didn’t like her and she said we should never come back.”
“That’s true. But in politics, sometimes you can let someone believe something’s true for the sake of getting that person to do what you want. And that’s my job as your eskarna. Najarhian Yesemia didn’t like the idea of her rival getting any benefits that she couldn’t have.”
“Oh.” Felix stopped wiggling. “So you tricked her.”
“Yes.”
“And tricks are all right?”
“Sometimes. In this case, definitely. But if Felix plays tricks on Willow he will be in trouble.”
Felix laughed. “They could be funny tricks.”
“Willow?” Alondra appeared beside them. “There is another you should meet.”
The next ones were, thank heaven, the Sarhafian Principality, one of those on Willow’s list as a powerful neutral party. They were also extremely pleasant, chatting with Willow and Felix in a friendly way, though Sarhafian Jennea, their vojenta, never thought to introduce their prince, who looked as if he’d rather be somewhere else. At the end, Willow had no idea whether she’d swayed Jennea to Felix’s cause, but at least she hadn’t made an enemy.
She turned away from making her bow to Sarhafian and nearly ran over another woman, whose brown hair was piled high on her head and looked in danger of falling down. She looked familiar. “Excuse me,” Willow said.
“Of course,” the woman said, and at the sound of her deep, somewhat scratchy voice, Willow remembered where she’d seen the woman before. Sahaki Beppinda, formerly vojenta mahaut and Mahnouki’s puppet. Why was she here?
Willow quickly made a respectful bow and saw Felix do the same. “Thank you for accepting Serjian Principality’s invitation, Sahaki Beppinda,” she said.
“We interested in the Serjian question are,” Beppinda said, which made Willow take a quick look around. Beppinda was standing alone, though Willow could see the prince, Sahaki Karalhi, in conversation with Kerish on the far side of the room. “A daring proposal, Eskandel’s fortunes to Tremontane to tie.”
“Not to disagree, but Eskandel’s fortunes are already tied to Tremontane,” Willow said. Beppinda was positively dripping with gold necklaces and she was starting to feel scorched. “The ploy of the pretender to steal the Crown of Tremontane just made it more obvious.”
“You are correct,” Beppinda said, startling Willow. “Tell me, young King, why should Sahaki support you?”
Felix faced her down without a hint of fear. “Because it’s right,” he said.
“Right is not enough, when it politics is. What does it benefit us?”
Felix glanced up at Willow, who said, “Felix will build up ties between Eskandel and Tremontane. You’ll have better trading positions and lower tariffs. And I’m sure you’ll find a huge market for, um, surabhi in Tremontane.”
“You speak for him? He cannot King on his own be?”
“Felix is still a child. I am eskarna for him until he’s old enough.”
“His regent?”
“Probably not. His guardian, though.”
“A thief as guardian? That daring is.”
“I suppose. I haven’t really thought about it,” Willow lied.
Beppinda nodded. “Sahaki will vojenta mahaut be,” she said. “This true is. And I will remember this conversation.” She bowed, an abbreviated bob of superior to inferior, and walked away.
“Is that right? You’ll still be my guardian once I’m King?” Felix asked.
Willow replayed the conversation in her head and cursed. Then she looked more closely at Felix, at how hopeful he was, and the world rearranged itself so quickly she felt dizzy. “Felix,” she said, squatting down to be at his eye level, “I will stay with you for as long as you need me. That’s a promise.”
Felix’s face lit up with a smile. “I’m glad,” he said, and threw his arms around Willow’s neck. Willow hugged him back, not caring who might be watching. She felt no fears about making that promise, no uncertainties. The Willow she’d been a month ago wouldn’t have been so cavalier about tying her fortunes to one small boy. Of course, the Willow she’d been a month ago had been lonely, suspicious, and obsessed with her work. She saw Kerish watching them from across the room, smiling, and discovered she didn’t miss that Willow at all.
“Willow North,” said a familiar voice, and Willow stood up to find herself facing Hajimhi Fariola and a short man who stood close beside her. Probably Prince Giaveni. “And this is Felix Valant.”
Felix bowed to her. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” he said.
“This is Hajimhi Fariola, Felix,” Willow said, “and the Hajimhi Prince, Giaveni?”
Both Hajimhis nodded politely. Fariola said, “We thank Serjian for the invitation. It pleases us with you to speak, young man. You claim to be King?”
“My father is dead, and that means I’m King of Tremontane,” Felix said.
In a q
uiet voice, Giaveni said, “Why do you not rule, then?”
“Because my uncle killed my father and tried to kill me. He wants to be King.”
“We have no proof that you Felix Valant are,” Fariola said.
“Well, I am.” Felix’s voice trembled.
“What proof would you accept?” Willow said, putting her hand on Felix’s shoulder to calm him.
“Terence Valant would say if it his nephew is,” said Fariola. “Return the boy to him, and we shall see.”
“Terence will kill him if he gets his hands on him. As to his identity, you have my word and that of Serjian Kerish.”
Fariola ignored her. “What did they promise you, child, this lie to tell? Riches? What would please a boy your age enough the King to pretend to be?”
“I’m not pretending. I am the King.” Felix’s voice was quavering noticeably.
“Stop it,” Willow said.
“Or do you have a family in Tremontane that will benefit? Eskandel does not like a fool to be made. Speak truth now and we will understand.”
“It’s true,” Felix said. “I mean, that I’m the King. I don’t tell lies.”
“I do not believe you, boy.”
“Stop it,” Willow shouted. Peripherally, she was aware of people turning to look in their direction, but she was so furious she didn’t care. “Is that your idea of repaying hospitality? Tormenting a little boy? If you want to attack someone, Fariola, maybe you should try attacking me and we’ll see what you get.”
Fariola’s smile was disdainful. “You cannot bear questioning? I think the truth should withstand my inquiries. It seems it does not.”
“Those aren’t inquiries, that’s just you being nasty. You want to know the truth? It’s what we’ve been saying all along. This is Felix Valant, he is the true King of Tremontane, and Terence Valant is a usurper who would love for you not to support Felix because that will keep him on the throne. You even know Terence has asked for Eskandel to return him, which more or less proves Felix’s identity. But I suppose if you’re stupid and arrogant enough to cling to your ridiculous theory about how this is all a hoax, you’re stupid enough to believe Terence is the rightful king.”
Fariola’s smile vanished. “You dare,” she said hoarsely.
“I dare,” said Willow. “Hurt Felix again, and we’ll see what else I dare.”
Prince Giaveni put a hand on Fariola’s shoulder and said something to her in Eskandelic. She shrugged him off and without another word strode off in the direction of the door. Willow watched her go, realized her hand was still gripping Felix’s shoulder tightly, and released him. Gradually, a few other women, one of them Gessala’s curly-haired lover, detached themselves from the crowd and followed Fariola, with Giaveni bringing up the rear. The room was as silent as if it were empty.
“Willow?” Felix whispered.
“What?”
“Is she going to vote against us?”
“Probably.” Willow patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper.”
“Can I use the facilities now?”
Willow took his hand. Every eye in the room was fixed on her. She held her head high and led Felix away in the direction of the chamber pots. So she’d just thrown away the support of one of the most important parjenisur on her list. So what?
She stood in the hall outside the tiny chamber, waiting for Felix, and kicked herself mentally. That had been monumentally stupid. Fariola’s words couldn’t hurt Felix—well, that wasn’t true, words could be weapons, but it wasn’t the kind of hurt that mattered. And yet the memory of facing her down was so satisfying…no, she shouldn’t have done it, she should have found a way to deflect Fariola’s attention from Felix and gotten them both out of there as quickly as possible. Why had Fariola done it? Was she looking for an excuse not to support Felix? Willow kicked the wall. Hajimhi was still on her list of possible assassins, and this pushed them all the way to the top.
They returned to the grand chamber to find conversations had started up again, and Willow grabbed herself a glass of dark red wine and drank deeply. She didn’t want to get drunk, but a little wine might loosen the tension in her muscles.
“May I have some wine, Willow?” Felix asked.
“Not tonight. Maybe some other time.”
“That was a rather spectacular show,” Kerish said, startling her into fumbling her glass. “Sorry. I can’t believe you let me sneak up on you.”
“Apparently I’m failing at a lot of things tonight.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. I was too far away to hear most of it, but Giaveni looked like that explosion was planned.”
“I still should have been more self-controlled. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Janida.”
“Probably that—”
“Excuse me,” said a deep voice, and Willow turned to find an elderly gentleman at her left elbow. His white hair was thick and bushy, like his eyebrows, and his eyes were a startling blue in a deeply tanned face. “I wish the young King to meet. Jamighian Vijenci, and may I introduce our vojenta, Issobela.”
Another name from her list. Willow stood frozen momentarily, but Kerish bowed, managing to nudge her discreetly with his elbow, and that broke her out of her daze so she could bow as well. “You speak with great ferocity,” Vijenci said.
“That’s a really polite way to put it,” Willow said without thinking, and both Vijenci and Issobela laughed, surprising her.
“You are like najabedhi, fierce in defense of her young,” Issobela said. She was younger than the Prince, with blond-streaked brown hair and warm brown eyes. “Hajimhi Fariola should have known that.”
“Please don’t judge Felix by my bad behavior,” Willow said. “I lost my temper, and I shouldn’t have.”
“That true is,” said Issobela. “When it a question is, one must controlled and cautious be. You are young and I think you have not learned this lesson.”
Willow’s face burned as if the vojenta’s bracelets were pressed against it. “I’m sorry.”
Vijenci and Issobela exchanged looks. They were the kind of looks only long-married couples could produce. “We impressed are at your loyalty to your King,” Vijenci said. “You care for him more than for politics. That unusual is, here in Eskandel.”
“I’m only involved in politics out of necessity. I hope to leave them behind as soon as possible.”
“Abandoning your King?”
“Never.” Willow felt Felix’s hand creep into hers and she clasped it tightly. “I look forward to the time when the Crown is restored to Felix and he can go back to learning how to be a good King, and I can just be his guardian.”
Again the knowing looks passed between vojenta and Prince. Then Issobela said, “Will you be as fierce in your defense of his Crown as you are of his person?”
“They’re sort of the same thing right now, so yes, I will.”
“Then Jamighian will support Serjian in its question,” Issobela said, loudly enough to draw attention from nearby guests. “And we will bring our allies to your cause.”
A murmur went up that spread outward from them to the farthest reaches of the chamber. “Thank you,” Willow said, giving Issobela and then Vijenci a low, respectful bow.
“It may not be enough,” Vijenci said in a low voice, pitched to carry no farther than the five of them. “Mahnouki’s question has captured the imaginations of many princes, and some of those have great sway over their harems. But we will add our voice to yours, and pray heaven it will suffice.”
“Thank you,” Willow repeated. “We’re both very grateful.”
Vijenci gave Willow an amused look. “Our youngest son is but a few years older than the King,” he said. “We hope, if we were gone, that he would find as fierce a protector as Felix has in you.”
“I hope it never comes to that,” Willow said.
Vijenci and Issobela bowed to Felix, then to Willow and Kerish. “Good fortune to you,” Issobela said, and then they were gone.
“I remember they weren’t going to vote for Mahnouki, but I had the feeling that didn’t mean they would vote for us.” Willow drained her almost-forgotten wine glass and handed it off to a passing servitor. “How much longer do we have to be here?”
“I haven’t even looked at the people,” Felix complained, nodding at the nearest human statue, a muscular young man painted a deep violet.
“Let’s look around, and hope no one else wants to talk,” Kerish said, taking Felix’s other hand. They probably looked like a little family, the three of them, and the thought made Willow uncomfortable. She almost let go of Felix’s hand before realizing she was being stupid. So what if it looked like she and Kerish—that they were—she gripped Felix’s hand a little more tightly and held her head high, daring someone to make an issue of it.
Either Willow’s explosion, or the surprise declaration of support from Jamighian, deflected anyone else from approaching them. Willow managed to steer Kerish and Felix away from Janida, who had the look of someone biding her time and would no doubt have much to say to Willow that Willow wasn’t interested in hearing. They stood by one of the statues and watched it move, so slowly, and argued in a friendly way over what it depicted. None of them could agree on anything except that the man was running in extreme slow motion.
Eventually, the crowds began to thin, and Willow’s tension returned. But Janida only said, when she finally approached them, “It time to return is.”
Felix fell asleep on Willow almost before the carriage began moving. It was close to midnight, so that made sense. Willow stroked his hair and yawned. “I hope Janida waits until tomorrow to yell at me.”
“If she hasn’t yelled at you yet, you’re probably safe until morning,” Kerish said.
“Maybe she won’t yell at me at all. Maybe it’s not as bad as I remember.”
“Oh, it was bad. I hope you never rip up at me like that.”
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