Ally of the Crown

Home > Fantasy > Ally of the Crown > Page 21
Ally of the Crown Page 21

by Melissa McShane


  His mention of the Irantzen Temple sparked a line of thought. “Maybe you can help us, sir,” she began.

  “You might as well call me Great-Uncle, even if you’re not really my niece,” he said. “So long as we’re keeping up appearances.”

  “All right…Great-Uncle…we came across something neither of us understand. With your knowledge of Veribold, possibly you can identify it.”

  Sebastian stood. “That’s a good idea,” he said, and went into the bedroom.

  “Something you picked up on your mysterious trip, but not a secret you need to keep from me?” Great-Uncle said.

  “It’s this,” Sebastian said, returning with the bag of tokens. “Everyone we encountered had the most extreme reaction to it. Do you have any idea why?”

  Great-Uncle took the bag curiously and opened it. His eyes widened. “Sweet merciful heaven,” he whispered. “Where did you get this?”

  “Then you recognize it,” Fiona said.

  “It’s—” He closed the bag and held it clutched tight in one hand. “Tell me where you got it.”

  Fiona and Sebastian exchanged glances. “This is no time for being coy,” Great-Uncle said. Looking at him, Fiona couldn’t remember why she’d ever thought him harmless; his blue eyes bored through her like icy spears. “Tell me.”

  “We found it among the possessions of the minister of foreign trade, Gizane,” Sebastian said.

  “She shouldn’t have it either,” Great-Uncle said, in a low voice as if talking to himself. “She must have stolen it, but how?”

  “What is it?” Sebastian asked.

  Great-Uncle transferred his freezing stare to his grandnephew. “This,” he said, “is one of Veribold’s oldest and most sacred relics. The Jaoine Stones are a key part of the ritual surrounding the Election. Without this, Veribold cannot elect a ruler.”

  “That can’t be possible,” Sebastian said. “How do you know it’s not a fake?”

  “No Veriboldan would dare make a copy of these. And no Tremontanan or Eskandelic would know how.”

  “Gizane might do it. She’s ruthless and opportunistic, as far as we can tell.”

  “She’d have to enlist help to craft them, and it’s unlikely she could find five people with the requisite skills who are equally ruthless and opportunistic. You said you’d seen extreme reactions to the Stones—few Veriboldans will have actually seen them, but everyone knows what they look like. It would be like trying to fake the statues in the Zedechen Bethel.”

  Fiona stared at him. “But…why would Gizane have it?”

  “She must have thought to influence the Election somehow,” Sebastian said. “When you consider where we found it—”

  “Then you haven’t heard,” Great-Uncle said, rising to pace in front of the fireplace. “Gizane left for Veribold a week ago. She’s a candidate for Election.”

  Fiona choked back a laugh. “I wish I could see her face when she realizes these are missing,” she said.

  “This isn’t anything to laugh about,” Great-Uncle said. “You have to return the Jaoine Stones to the Irantzen Temple immediately. The Election is only ten days from now. If Veribold can’t elect a ruler, it would be disastrous.”

  “For them,” Fiona said.

  “For all of us. Tensions are high between Veribold and Tremontane. It wouldn’t take much to turn that into outright war. And without a ruler, Veribold will be at the mercy of whatever factions its government fractures into. But…”

  “But what?” Sebastian said.

  Great-Uncle looked horribly conflicted. “Possession of the Jaoine Stones by anyone but an Irantzen priestess is punishable by death. Even if you were restoring what a thief took, you would be the ones executed. And it’s unlikely they’d believe you weren’t the thieves. But they must be returned.”

  “I’ll tell Mother. Let her find a diplomatic solution.”

  “Genny can’t know about this. She’ll use it as leverage to attack Veribold, either physically or politically. The balance of power would swing so far it wouldn’t be visible anymore.” Great-Uncle’s hand closed tight on the bag again. “Damn. You would bring trouble home with you, wouldn’t you?”

  “It’s not our fault,” Fiona protested. “We—” She closed her mouth on the truth about Douglas North.

  “I know. You can’t tell me.” Great-Uncle blew out his breath. “I suppose you could leave it secretly on the doorstep of the Veriboldan embassy, but you’d be condemning someone else to death.”

  “We can’t go back to Haizea,” Sebastian said. “We left just steps ahead of the Jaixante guards. And forget about getting into the Irantzen now the festival is over. There’s just no way.”

  “Don’t we have to try?” Fiona said.

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her. “I don’t see why.”

  “Because it’s our fault the Jaoine Stones left Veribold. If we hadn’t taken them—”

  “If we hadn’t taken them, Gizane would have done heaven knows what with them. We might have spared Veribold a worse fate.”

  “Even so.” Fiona stood to face him. The weight of her guilt over her lies bore down on her, but she felt as if the burden had begun to lift. “We seem to be the only ones who can do this.”

  “Fiona,” Sebastian said, “this is madness.”

  A knock sounded on the door, startling Fiona. She’d almost forgotten there was anyone else in the palace but the three of them. “Enter,” Sebastian said.

  A servant in North livery opened the door. “Her Majesty would like a word with you, your Highness, Lady North,” she said.

  “With regard to what?” Sebastian said.

  “Her Majesty did not confide in me. She asks that you come immediately.”

  Sebastian glanced at his great-uncle, who still held the bag of tokens. Great-Uncle casually set them on the mantel. Well, that was as safe a place as any, though Fiona cringed inside at the idea of leaving them lying around. Taking them along when they went to see the Queen seemed like a really bad idea, though. “I’ll speak with you more later,” Great-Uncle said, just as casually, and left.

  Sebastian offered Fiona his arm. “Mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” he said.

  It might do her good once in a while, Fiona thought, but she took Sebastian’s arm and left the room.

  The servant led them to the far end of one of the halls and opened the door on a tiny sitting room, dimly lit by actual candles rather than Devices. No fire was laid in the fireplace, and the room was freezing. Gooseflesh rose up on Fiona’s bare arms, and she drew closer to Sebastian for what warmth he might provide. The room was filled to bursting with little porcelain statues of shepherdesses, glass balls containing models of Aurilien landmarks, jeweled eggs on stands, and other knickknacks. Fiona caught the eye of a particularly sappy shepherd dressed in knee breeches and carrying a beribboned crook and controlled a shudder. She couldn’t imagine anyone being comfortable in this room.

  The Queen sat on a sofa covered with petit point designs that were indistinct in the low light. She still wore the gown she’d worn at supper, a sky blue satin confection similar to Fiona’s, but layered in white lace that must have taken a dozen women a dozen days to tat. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing at a sofa facing hers. Fiona sat, and discovered the cushion was rock-hard and bumpy as if it had molded itself to some long-ago sitter’s bottom. She shifted, but found no comfortable spot. Beside her, Sebastian fidgeted as if having the same problem. Fiona gave up and folded her hands in her lap. She wasn’t about to be the first to speak.

  The Queen waited for them to stop wiggling. Her expression was bland, giving nothing away, though Fiona thought, from the way her hands were clenched into fists in her lap, that she was impatient. “So, you intend to travel south tomorrow,” she said.

  “Yes. I want us both as far from this mess as possible,” Sebastian said.

  “Don’t try to ride your high horse over me, Sebastian. You’re as much involved as anyone.”

  “Only
because you deceived me, Mother.”

  The Queen smiled, a cynical expression that chilled Fiona more than the room. “I gave you the information you needed to know, when you needed to know it. Unless you think you’d somehow be exempt from the storm that would come if Douglas’s secret was revealed?”

  Now Sebastian’s fists were clenched. “Did you call us here to gloat, or did you have something else in mind?”

  The Queen’s smile fell away. “The documentation you brought has been destroyed,” she said. “The witnesses have been…taken care of. One loose end remains.”

  “Gizane,” Sebastian said. “She’s out of your reach. You can hardly send your assassins into Veribold after her.”

  The Queen didn’t rise to this bait. “No,” she said. “But I can send you.”

  24

  “What?” Fiona exclaimed, forgetting she was talking to her Queen.

  “You’re out of your mind,” Sebastian said. “I’m no assassin. You can’t force me to do this.”

  “You are the one who keeps using that word,” Queen Genevieve said. “I have said nothing about killing anyone.”

  “But that’s what you mean,” Sebastian said. “There’s only one way to ensure witnesses won’t talk. Were you the one who killed Miss Tippetts? How much blood do you have on your hands?”

  “I refuse to justify myself to you,” the Queen said. “The North family has ruled Tremontane for eighty years. I am not going to allow a freak magical talent to destroy Willow North’s legacy. That means doing whatever it takes to protect this family.”

  “Willow North’s legacy? Do you really think she’d approve of what you’ve done?”

  “She killed the pretender Terence Valant herself. She knew all about the greater good.”

  Sebastian took Fiona’s hand and squeezed. “It’s irrelevant. I won’t do it.”

  “As it happens, Sebastian, assassination was not what I had in mind.” The Queen smoothed her skirt over her knees. “Gizane can’t reveal what she knows about Douglas without implicating herself, and now that she has no evidence, she is no longer a threat. Or, I should say, no longer a personal threat. She is very much a threat to Tremontane.”

  “You mean because she wants to be Veribold’s Queen?” Sebastian’s grip on Fiona’s hand tightened, not painfully, but enough that she wished she dared remove it.

  “I have had my agents investigating her for months. Our friend Gizane is a very busy woman. It turns out we are not the only ones she has blackmailed. She has manipulated her way into a number of noble houses, compelling them to do her bidding. I had no idea Tremontane was so full of corrupt, venal people.” She smiled, a thin, humorless smile. “She has also manipulated the Election to ensure her victory, or to give her a strong edge, at any rate. And once she has won, she will bring Veriboldan troops against Tremontane.”

  “How is that possible?” Fiona asked, and immediately regretted drawing the Queen’s attention. Queen Genevieve focused on her sharply, as if she’d forgotten Fiona was in the room.

  “She has suborned the Countess of Harroden,” she said. “I am still gathering information, but it seems she has convinced Clarissa Barrington to allow Veribold’s troops free passage into Harroden in exchange for land and titles in Veribold. I am certain seeing me humiliated influenced Clarissa’s decision, but Gizane’s promises have been extensive. Gizane’s goal is to extend Veriboldan territory to the Snow River. If she succeeds in taking half of County Harroden, she will certainly attack Eskandel next.”

  “Then build up Harroden’s defenses,” Sebastian said. “Oust the Countess. Even if Gizane becomes Queen, she won’t be able to attack Tremontane.”

  “I have my reasons for allowing Clarissa to believe her treachery is still a secret. If I act against her, Gizane will change her plans, and now that she’s out of Tremontane, my resources for learning those plans are limited. I have no reason to believe Gizane will give up her dream of conquest just because one avenue is closed to her.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m certainly not in a position to stop her.”

  “You are if you’re my envoy to the Election,” the Queen said.

  Sebastian laughed. “Mother, we left Veribold two steps ahead of the Jaixante guards. You want me to walk back in there, pretending nothing is wrong? That’s insanity.”

  “A diplomatic envoy has protections even the Jaixante must acknowledge. No one will challenge Prince Sebastian North, or be so crass as to accuse him of theft.”

  “So you say. I think the Irantzen priestesses are exempt from following those rules.”

  “They will be too busy with the Election to take action against you.”

  Sebastian’s grip on Fiona’s hand tightened further. “And what exactly do you propose I do?”

  The Queen smiled that crooked, humorless smile again. “Use your initiative. You brought that documentation out of Veribold—I have faith in your abilities.”

  “You can’t force me to do this.”

  The smile widened. “Shouldn’t it be your patriotic duty?”

  “There have to be alternatives.”

  “There is no alternative. I have gone over this problem for weeks, Sebastian. Preventing Gizane from being elected Queen of Veribold is the only way to prevent war. And, incidentally, save this family. Think of your sister.”

  “That’s a low blow, Mother.”

  “But a telling one.”

  Sebastian sighed. “Send someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. You said you have agents. Send one of them.”

  “Only the diplomatic envoy can get close enough to the Election to reach Gizane, and I would insult the Veriboldan government if I sent someone of low rank, which my agents are. Stop whining and accept this.”

  “I’m not whining. I genuinely—”

  “Do it, or I annul your marriage.”

  Fiona sucked in a startled breath. Sebastian said, “What?”

  “You heard me. You should never have married without my permission. If I judge your union to be against the best interests of the North family, I can have it annulled. And I guarantee your continued refusal will qualify as against our best interests.”

  Sebastian’s grip was painful now. For a moment, Fiona’s heart beat more rapidly. Then she remembered they weren’t married. The Queen’s threat had no force. She wished she could remind Sebastian of that.

  “You wouldn’t,” Sebastian said, but he didn’t sound certain.

  “Try me,” the Queen said. She sounded utterly certain.

  Don’t give in, Fiona thought.

  Sebastian let go of Fiona’s hand. “I suppose I have no choice.”

  “You really don’t,” the Queen agreed. “Be prepared to leave in two days. The Election starts soon, and you’ll need to be there when it begins.”

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Sebastian said, rising. Fiona followed him, struggling a little to rise from the uncomfortable sofa. “I do this, and you leave us alone.”

  “You’re still a North, Sebastian.”

  “Right now I wish I wasn’t,” Sebastian said. He left the room without further argument.

  Fiona followed him, once again having to run to keep up with his long strides. He walked like he was trying to conquer the ground he trod on, like a man pushed to his limit. She couldn’t tell if he had genuinely forgotten they weren’t married, or was just angry at being manipulated. She wished she dared speak to him, but even though the halls were empty, they were still public, and Fiona didn’t think this was the kind of conversation they should have where anyone could hear.

  Sebastian slammed open the door to his suite and flung himself on the sofa, making it scoot back a few inches. Fiona closed the door quietly behind her. “You realize that’s a threat with no meaning, right?” she said.

  “To annul our marriage that doesn’t exist? Yes, I realize that. But how depraved do you have to be to make a threat like that?”

&n
bsp; “Or desperate.”

  “Or both.” He ran his hands through his hair, disordering it. “I guess I won’t be coming to Umberan with you, after all.”

  His casual words, so lightly said, left her feeling bereft. “No.”

  “I’ll send Holt with you. You shouldn’t travel alone.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of doing so. I traveled alone for months before I met you.”

  Sebastian raised his head to look her in the eye. “Nevertheless.”

  It irritated her that he could so casually dispose of her future. An idea glimmered into life. “I don’t want to go to Umberan.”

  “Well, you can’t stay here. Mother might think to make you a hostage against my good behavior.”

  The idea was growing, taking hold of her and filling her with confidence to replace the bereft feeling. “Then I’ll go to Veribold with you.”

  “Fiona, that’s absurd!” Sebastian shot to his feet and took a few steps toward her, taking her by the shoulders in a tight grip. “This isn’t your fight.”

  “I owe a debt I need to repay. It sounds as if you can get me close enough to do so.” The thought of being able to make something up to Hien, whatever that might be, bolstered her confident feeling.

  “This isn’t going to be simple. Whatever Mother thinks about diplomatic immunity, if we’re caught interfering in the Election, they’re not going to let us off. You know better than I do what kind of punishment that would entail. I can’t let you do this.”

  “Well, I’m not staying here. And it will look strange if you go to Veribold without your new wife. I’m sorry, your Highness, but this is how it has to be.”

  Sebastian released her and turned away. “This isn’t your fight,” he repeated, but less certainly.

  “We’ve come all this way together. I don’t see how it’s not.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “I should have returned you to Ravensholm the instant we knew you weren’t Lucille.”

  It was like a punch to the jaw. Fiona drew a few calming breaths, then said lightly, “Really?”

 

‹ Prev