The Fallen Queen

by Jane Kindred

  my eyes again, Kae stood staring at me, his face blank. Had he come

  to cut me open, as he’d done to Ola?

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  He came closer, and I tried in vain to scramble away. Ignoring my

  struggles, he released my right wrist with the key, and then my left.

  “Thank you.” I rubbed my wrists, but he said nothing. When I

  rolled sideways, groaning against another pain, he went to the basin

  and wet a cloth to dab it against my face. “Why are you helping me?”

  I gasped.

  “The baby’s coming.” He spoke without inflection.

  “I know!” I shrieked, wracked again with a contraction.

  “No, I mean it’s coming now.”

  I stared at him in confusion, trying to catch my breath, and lashed

  out in a burst of temper. “How would you know?”

  “I’ve helped deliver a child before. Though the baby died.”

  I was still too irritated to think this through. “What baby?” As the

  next pain twisted the last syllable into a howl, I remembered. Ola’s baby. Of course he’d been there. He was the one who’d killed it. I tried to leap from the bed when the pain subsided, but he pushed me back.

  “My brother,” he said. “The midwife had me count between my

  mother’s pains. Yours are less than a minute apart.”

  I remembered then that he’d been with my aunt when she’d died

  delivering a stillborn child. Uncle Lebes had been away and Aunt

  Tsirya had insisted Kae be allowed to attend her. There was little time to dwell on this. I gripped the sheets, wracked with another contraction.

  Kae sat on the side of the bed and pulled my soiled dress up out

  of the way, and I was too far gone to care. “Bear down when the next

  pain begins.”

  I obeyed, terrified, clutching his hand when the pain consumed

  me.

  “Again,” he said, and again I obeyed, sobbing.

  He stayed beside me, coaching me through what must have come

  naturally to other women. I wished it were Vasily at my side. It ought to be his large hand encircling mine while I descended each time into

  the darkness of pain, his hand mopping my brow with a damp cloth

  when I resurfaced. It ought to be Vasily who murmured comfort and

  encouraged me as the baby progressed, who promised me I’d live

  through this. It should be Vasily who saw our child take its first breath.

  But in the short intervals between each pain, I couldn’t stop

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  thinking of Ola. I imagined I was ill and suffering a terrible delirium.

  Ola was the one giving birth, and when it was done, I would be well

  again. All would be well again. And then the next pain came, and I

  squeezed Kae’s hand and screamed.

  “Almost there,” he said at last. “One more push, as hard as you

  can.”

  With a last tremendous effort, I pushed the baby into the world,

  both of us wailing, and collapsed against the pillow.

  “It’s a girl.”

  “Ola,” I whispered. “Her name is Ola.”

  A sharp object gleamed in his hand. He lowered it toward the

  baby and I cried out, but he straightened with little Ola in his arms, her pink limbs still grasping in the air. He’d cut the cord with a pair of small scissors now clamped against her stomach to stop the blood.

  “Ola.” Frowning, he studied her.

  “Let me hold her.” I reached for her, but he paid no attention to

  me. Too exhausted to put up a fight, I lay back against the pillow and closed my eyes. “Where’s Belphagor?” He would want to see Vasily’s

  child.

  “Aeval’s demon?” Kae’s voice warmed with amusement. “She

  tired of him and gave him to me.”

  I opened my eyes and tried to focus on my cousin despite the pull

  of sleep. “What do you mean?”

  “She lost interest in him. She could only derive so much pleasure

  from forcing him to go against his nature. Now he belongs to me, and

  I have less prurient interests. I merely want him to feel pain, which

  requires nothing so fancy as the accommodations my queen gave him.

  I’ve returned him to his original facilities.” He went to the door, still holding little Ola. “He’ll want to see his child.”

  “No!” I struggled to sit up. “Give her back to me!”

  “You should lie down. You still have the afterbirth to deliver. We

  wouldn’t want you to hemorrhage.”

  “Please, Kae.”

  His face clouded when I spoke his name. Ola began to cry.

  “Please let me have her.” I tried to appeal to him rationally. “I

  need to feed her.”

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  “Aeval has brought a wet nurse,” he said, and took Ola away from

  me.

  §

  Inga said nothing when she returned to clean up the mess, mutely

  waiting for the Ophan to shackle me once more. I asked after Ola, but

  she refused to answer. When she came in the morning and unlocked

  my right arm, I grabbed her wrist and yanked her down to me.

  Her eyes widened with terror. “Let me go, miss!”

  “Tell me what’s happened to Ola. Where did the principality take

  her?”

  “She’s in the nursery!”

  I let her go, and she stumbled back. “Ola has a wet nurse?”

  Inga brushed at her skirt and apron and shrugged.

  “Inga, please. I know you don’t care much for me, but don’t punish

  Ola because of it.” I needed to try a different tactic. “Would you give a message to the principality for me?”

  “Me, miss?”

  “A written note. You don’t even need to present it to him. Just slip

  it under his door. Please, Inga. There’s pen and ink and some paper in the drawer. I can’t reach it.”

  Inga looked at the drawer, considering it at least.

  “If you’re afraid of the queen… ”

  In an unconscious gesture, the chambermaid touched the edge

  of the yellowing bruise beneath her eye. “It’s Her Supernal Majesty

  who’s afraid you’ll hurt the baby.”

  “Why would I hurt my own child?”

  Inga stepped back to be certain she was out of my reach. “You

  killed your family, miss.”

  “No.” Tears swam in my eyes, my emotions too raw after the birth

  to cover the despair. “I didn’t kill them. Now Ola is all I have.”

  Inga bit her lip and went to the drawer to get me what I’d asked

  for, though she still hung back. Perhaps she thought I’d change my

  mind and stab her with the pen.

  Dearest Cousin, I wrote, hoping to appeal to the part of him that clung to the role Aeval had invented for him. Though I do not deserve your kindness, I beg you to have mercy on me, the sister of your dear,

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  departed Omeliea. If our childhood bond means anything to you at all, I implore you to give me word of Ola, your niece and ward. I wish only to be certain she is safe and in good health.

  I handed the note to Inga, who seemed pleased now to be part of

  some intrigue, and waited.

  Kae arrived that afternoon, once again the man I’d met in the

  garden. I reminded myself I was dependent on this charade. I must

  pretend he was innocent of the violence against my family and that I

  was guilty of it if I was to have any hope of seeing Ola again.

  He smiled at me pleasantly and brought a wooden stool to my

  bedside to si
t. He seemed unaware he’d been attendant at the birth.

  “Cousin.” He took my hand, and I forced myself not to jerk it away. “I received your note. It pains me to see you so distressed. You mustn’t

  think about the child.”

  “I’m her mother. Even a madwoman feels for her own offspring. I

  only wanted to know, is her wet nurse adequate?” I lowered my gaze.

  “My mother expressed her milk for Azel when he was too weak to

  nurse, and I have plenty. Perhaps if Ola needed it… ” I worried I had

  made a mistake in giving her my sister’s name; his face rippled with

  unpleasant emotion whenever I spoke it.

  “You mustn’t concern yourself with such things. My queen has

  provided for the infant. You must prepare for what’s to come.” His

  expression approximated compassion. “The demon was wrong to hide

  you from justice. Aeval was beguiled by him for a time, believing that keeping you among us was kindness, but the people deserve a sense

  of finality to the terrible tragedy you visited upon us a year ago.” He focused on my fingers locked tightly in his. “She’s decided on a public execution. You’re to be beheaded for your crimes.”

  Tears poured down my cheeks. “Please. I know I don’t deserve

  your mercy—”

  “Nor shall you receive any. It is out of my hands.”

  “Ola is in your hands. She is right across the hall from you.”

  His eyes darkened. He shook his head and tried to pull his fingers

  from mine.

  “I beg of you, Cousin. Let me be her wet nurse. For the love you

  bore her namesake.” I knew I risked provoking another fit of his

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  madness, but I was desperate. “Let me give my child the only thing I

  can before I’m taken from her, as my sister never had the chance to

  give to her own.”

  Kae’s face drained of color. He tore himself from my grip and

  jumped back, knocking over the stool. The commotion brought the

  Ophanim, ready to defend him.

  “Please. For your Omeliea.”

  Kae stumbled to the door and fled.

  I wept into my pillow, my arms aching for the child I would never

  hold, berating myself for my foolishness in baiting him. If only I hadn’t spoken of Ola. If I hadn’t said her name, I might have persuaded him.

  I cried myself to sleep and was awakened later when the door

  opened. Inga, come to shackle me. I didn’t roll over until a soft coo

  startled me. Kae stood holding the baby—clean and pink, and wrapped

  in layers of infant’s lace. I sat up, and he placed her in my arms and unlocked my other wrist so I could hold her properly. Her hair was a

  pale golden red. I loosened my clothes to feed Ola for the first time.

  The waiting milk was abundant.

  “You don’t deserve this,” he said coolly. “This is only for Ola.” I

  nodded, uncertain whether he meant my sister or my child. “I’ll bring

  the baby once a day. The rest, her wet nurse gives her.” He pulled up

  the stool once more and watched Ola nurse. “Aeval won’t be pleased.”

  “Don’t tell her,” I murmured, stroking Ola’s hair, amazed this

  little person had come from me.

  “She looks nothing like your Belphagor,” he said after a moment.

  “She’s an Arkhangel’sk. Of which we should all be glad.” He brushed

  the baby’s tiny hand with his finger, and she grasped it. “The demon

  wanted to hold her. I refused. Can you imagine? He might have given

  her fleas.”

  “You could let him go. After I’m… when I’m gone. Hasn’t he been

  punished enough?”

  “Which infraction do you suppose he’s been sufficiently punished

  for, my dear cousin? Hiding a dangerous fugitive or defiling a member

  of the supernal Host?”

  I was about to tell him Belphagor wasn’t the father, that he’d never

  touched me, but I bit my tongue. If they knew it wasn’t him, they’d

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  seek another demon to punish. Belphagor had sacrificed everything to

  keep me safe, trading, as he’d told me, the humiliation he now endured once more for a less painful method. I hadn’t understood him then. I’d seen only the privilege and comforts Aeval had given him, and hadn’t

  considered what price such a creature must have exacted for them.

  And I had spoiled that sacrifice, so that my own might keep Vasily safe.

  If Vasily were also lost, Belphagor’s suffering would be for nothing.

  “Besides,” said Kae, oblivious to my internal conflict. “I’ve already

  made him pay for the privilege of seeing his daughter.”

  I waited, saying nothing while I listened to the soft sounds Ola

  was making.

  “Aeval procured an antique implement of correction from the

  world of Man,” he said. “It’s quite unique: a sort of long whip on the end of a baton. It ends in a brass ring, followed by a hook of hard-cured leather.” He smiled, swinging Ola’s fist. “Your demon has a

  thick hide and he isn’t one for making noise, but I don’t think he’d ever encountered anything like the knut before.”

  I shuddered and drew Ola closer to protect her from his words.

  “Aeval says it was used on criminals as a means of execution. One

  hundred lashes or so are apparently fatal.”

  “You didn’t kill him?” I cried. I pulled Ola’s hand from his finger.

  “Where would be the fun in that?” He looked at me as if I’d said

  something absurd. “I stopped at fifty lashes. From the first, he couldn’t even count them aloud. I had to do it for him,” he said with disdain.

  “You’ve never heard such screaming.”

  “Please stop,” I said, feeling faint.

  “I daresay some of those tattoos on his back will never be the

  same.”

  “Please, Kae.” Tears ran down my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, cousin. Have I offended your delicate sensibilities?”

  He stood and pulled Ola away from me. “I think the baby’s visit has

  been a bit too much for you.”

  As he left me, Inga entered and curtsied to him, though he paid

  her no attention. “You’ve held the baby, miss,” she said with a smile, and then saw I was crying. “There now, miss.” She wiped at my eyes

  with her apron. “Don’t spoil your pretty face. The baby isn’t going

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  anywhere.”

  “But I am,” I said. “I’m to be executed.”

  Inga herself teared up at this. “I know, miss. And I think it’s quite

  unjust.” She reached across me to restrain me once more. “If I thought it might be seen to be an accident, I’d forget to lock these one night.

  But I don’t see how you’d get past the Ophanim, and I’d be beaten for

  it if you tried.”

  §

  I was afraid I had seen the last of Ola, but the following evening

  Kae brought her to me once more. He clearly wanted an audience for

  his torment of Belphagor, and so I let him talk, knowing he’d take Ola away the instant I objected.

  He shared lurid details with me I didn’t wish to know: how he’d

  immobilized the demon’s feet with wooden braces and whipped his

  soles until they were in shreds, because he couldn’t administer further blows to Belphagor’s back until the previous healed; how Belphagor

  had debased himself in begging for mercy; how Kae had left him

  standing, wrists chained overhead, so that Belphagor
had to choose

  between resting his weight on his beaten soles or hanging all his weight from his arms. I couldn’t imagine where my cousin had learned these

  techniques or these appetites—if he was my cousin anymore.

  Kae came each day at the appointed time, and I had a precious

  hour with Ola while he regaled me with his unpleasant accounts. At

  the end of one of these visits, I asked why he wished to inflict such pain on Belphagor.

  “Why?” Kae rocked Ola against his shoulder. “Because he was

  insolent. He never bowed before me, nor used the proper address. He

  does now.” But in his eyes, I saw another reason. He hated Belphagor

  as he hated himself, both pawns of Queen Aeval.

  §

  At the end of the week, Kae took Ola from me and announced

  my execution was to take place tomorrow. I stared after him when the

  door closed. I’d seen Ola for the last time and hadn’t known it until

  she was gone.

  If this night was to be my last, I would not sleep. A steward

  brought a tub for my final bath in preparation for the execution, and

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  afterward Inga styled my hair and pulled the curls back from my face

  with a pair of combs purloined from my mother’s dressing table. I

  asked her to help me change into a gown from the pile Belphagor had

  brought. I would show them I was still a grand duchess of the House

  of Arkhangel’sk, not some wretch they’d broken.

  I’d lost much of my pregnancy weight, but my bust was much fuller

  than it had been, and so I chose a gold brocade that had belonged

  to Maia. We were the same height, but she was curvier than I. The

  ritual of dressing gave me the illusion of dignity, and the tightening of the corset beneath my breasts as Inga tugged the laces was strangely

  calming.

  Out of kindness, Inga shackled me only by my right arm when she

  prepared to leave so I could sit and look out the window for the last

  time.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” She put the key into the lock, her eyes damp.

  “You were only unkind to me the once, and I don’t fault you for it. I’ll look after little Ola as much as I’m allowed. You mustn’t fret for her,”

  she added. “Her Supernal Majesty dotes on her.”

  “Thank you, Inga,” I said, though her words were little comfort.

  Inga hesitated, looking at the door. “I might stay a little longer if