by Rebecca Rode
I’d gazed many times at the Hughen palace high above the city, wondering what it looked like on the inside. I’d imagined an array of elegant, colorful art and woven rugs, all framed by regal stone walls. But the reality of it all had me staring in wonder. Intricate wood carvings were everywhere—the ceiling patterns, the wall moldings. Every inch of it was an incredible work of art, and servants walked right past it all like it was nothing. The cost of the ornate carpets themselves could have fed a city.
We passed through the kitchen, which boasted a massive window and no less than six stoves. The divine smell of baked goods permeated the air around a dozen cooks hurrying about in heavy aprons. Exhaustion was written on their faces. With tomorrow’s festivities, I doubted they could rest anytime soon. They didn’t even seem to notice the four brilliant chandeliers over their heads.
Magie set a furious pace, marching us through the palace like she was the queen herself. She looked back often to issue a sharp command to keep my eyes down or stop walking like a man. Aden chuckled at the latter.
We soon passed a giant set of gilded doors, one of which had been propped open. I peeked through and stopped with a gasp. It was the largest room I’d ever seen and the most luxurious by far. Nearly every inch of the walls were windows, each lined in drapes long enough to catch a sea wind. The floor was inset with dark and light woods mirroring each other in an intricate floral pattern. It made the Majesty’s architecture look like toddler’s play. Great golden chandeliers shaped like gulls lined the edges of the ceiling, all leading toward the pillars centered at the back wall, where a massive blue tapestry covered the wall above a tall throne.
“Don’t gawk,” Magie hissed. “You’re supposed to be a servant, remember?”
I couldn’t speak. That room could fit the Majesty within its walls. The extravagance of it all, the attention to detail—I’d just experienced an entire side of life I never knew existed.
Aden leaned over. “I could spend a full day explaining the symbolism of everything in that room.”
His breath warmed my ear. I grinned at the pleasant tingle. “Sounds like the perfect day.”
Servants scuttled past despite the late hour, carrying decorations and flowers hurriedly gathered for the ceremony. Few looked in our direction. It wasn’t until we turned a corner to the main hall that we ran into soldiers.
There were eleven of them, all with varying shades of white-blond hair, standing around and teasing the Hughens as they worked. Their laughter died as we approached. Aden lowered his head. I focused on their pale faces, watching for any sign of recognition. But there was only amusement.
“A bearded Hughen servant?” The shortest one chuckled. He wore a set of impressively curly eyebrows to match his mustache. “Does your king know of your disobedience? Oh, right. He’s dead.”
His companions laughed. Color had risen to Aden’s cheeks, but to his credit, he kept his head down and continued to walk past.
“The hair itches as it grows in, but the ladies love it,” the guard called after Aden. “Who’s that lovely little maid you’ve got there? Haven’t seen her before.”
Aden increased his pace, and I trotted to keep up. We were nearly to the corner.
“Hey, girl,” his companion called out. “He’ll never please a pretty thing like you. Come back later and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
We turned the corner. Aden’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll show him an axe to the face,” I muttered. As if Aden needed another reminder that his father was dead.
We climbed the servant staircase, which was still fancier than anything I’d seen before, and turned into the royal living wing. Aden grew increasingly quiet with each step. Magie’s frown deepened.
Finally, she turned to face us. “Rasmus ordered the family’s wing sectioned off. No Hughens are allowed. If the guards don’t believe our story, we’ll be thrown into the dungeon and beaten.” She didn’t say what we were all thinking. It would be far worse for Aden if he were discovered.
“You don’t have to do this, Magie,” Aden said. “You may return to your quarters if you’ve changed your mind.”
She huffed. “And leave the rightful king to deal with the guards alone? I should say not.” The woman whirled about and stalked down the hallway, looking almost insulted. We hurried to follow.
I knew instantly which door belonged to the queen. It was gilded like the ballroom doors, except the design was different. The carving was heavier near the bottom and boasted a haphazard pattern of swirls, like an ocean with foaming waves. It had been meticulously painted in green and blue. A bird coasted above it all with wings spread.
Four guards stood outside the doors. They straightened at our approach, gripping the pistols at their belts.
Magie didn’t slow. She marched right up to them and stood there expectantly. “Well? You’d best have an explanation for this.”
The guards frowned down at her. The tallest of them wore a yellow beard that ended in actual ringlets. He pushed the others aside and stared her down. “Ye looking to get yerself shot?”
Magie pointed at Aden and me. “They roused me in my sleep and dragged me here to style the queen’s hair for the wedding. At this time of night. Just how long does the khral think it’ll take me to curl a woman’s hair, I ask you?”
The guards looked at one another. Pretty Guard scowled. “We’ve received no orders—”
Magie slapped her hands together. “Well, that’s just wonderful. You can style the queen’s hair yourselves, then. I’m sure you’ll do it to the khral’s satisfaction. I’m returning to my warm, soft bed, and if you dare rouse me again, I’ll stab you in the eye with a hairpin. And you’d deserve it, scaring an old woman half to death in her sleep.” She spun on her heel and shoved past us.
“You will not defy the khral’s wishes,” I called out, following her cue and running to block her way. “You’ve sworn the oath. You may not return to your bed until Her Highness is ready for the ceremony.”
Aden, finally understanding, grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the door. Magie thrashed in his arms, looking very much the grumpy maid. Three bewildered guards scurried to open the door while the fourth looked on.
We were nearly through the doors when the largest thrust his broadsword in front of us. “Wait. Is that really the queen’s maid?”
“Yes, sir,” one of the other guards said. “She’s tended the wench every day since my post here.”
He gave a sharp nod. “Search them first.”
His companions began patting us down, digging through pockets and feeling at our hair. I was glad I hadn’t tried to bring my axes. Then they stepped back. “No weapons, sir.”
The guard grunted and opened the door. Then he motioned us quickly inside.
The doors closed behind us.
Magie gave a relieved sigh, but my eyes were locked on Aden. He hurried toward a door at the other end of the room, barely giving his surroundings a glance. His face was drawn and somber as he threw it open and pushed inside. I hung back. This moment was between him and his mother. I forced myself to examine my surroundings instead.
No less than six gaslight lanterns lit the sitting room, which was decorated in a series of familiar blues and foamy greens. A large white shell gleamed prominently on a side table. I wasn’t the only one here who loved the sea.
Magie stood by the door Aden had just entered, looking as hesitant as I felt. A moment later, she motioned to me. “Come. Her Majesty has summoned us.”
The second room looked similar to the first except for the tables along the wall, displaying pair after pair of elaborate, feminine footwear. A heavy wardrobe stood open next to the window. A woman with long, wavy brown hair sat in a chair opposite the wardrobe, her face covered by a dark veil. She wore a black dress, though the beautiful satin was torn in two places. With her regal manner, she was precisely what I’d imagined the queen of Hughen to be.
Aden knelt at her side, grief heavy in his
eyes. Then he began to motion quickly. “Mother, this is Laney, Captain Garrow’s daughter.”
His daughter. I’d never heard that introduction from my father’s own lips, but it felt exactly right.
The woman watched me, then lifted her hand to return the gesturing motion. Her fingers moved in a rapid, deliberate manner.
Lands. The Hughen queen was deaf. Why hadn’t I known that particular detail?
She signed for a long moment. Aden shook his head and began again before she’d finished.
“She says he’s in danger here,” Magie said, moving to stand beside me. “That they’ll kill him too and he should have stayed away. He says he will always come.”
“She hates veils,” Aden muttered, more to himself than anyone. He hesitated, then reached up and yanked the veil off his mother’s face even as her fingers moved to stop him.
We stared. I’d heard that the queen was a beautiful woman, with soft, gentle features and perfect skin. But it was hard to see all that now. Colorful bruises covered her cheeks as if a painter had used her as a violent canvas. The only recognizable feature was her eyes, a fierce and intelligent gray. Aden’s eyes.
Aden growled and tossed the veil aside. “What man beats a widow and calls himself a king?”
Magie signed his words, then interpreted the queen’s furious reply. “I’d share my bed with the devil himself if it meant safety for my children. Any mother would.”
“Rasmus will feel every blow he inflicted upon you.” Aden raised his head stubbornly, his hands a storm of motion. “No, more than that. He’ll suffer every drop of blood he tore from Father and every tear he’s caused this kingdom. And then he’ll feel it all over again.”
“He only has a few hundred guards in the palace,” Magie broke in, speaking for herself now, though slowly so she could sign her words. “But Rasmus sent for more troops just hours after the king’s assassination. They’ll be arriving soon, not to mention the guests for the ceremony. I’ve heard rumors that Rasmus also sent for men to occupy the noble houses. They’ll be bringing their own servants and slaves. To say we’re outnumbered is a monumental understatement.”
“What of our military force?” Aden asked, his voice rising as his hands moved. “Surely Varnen didn’t convince them all to turn. Some of them must be loyal.”
Aden’s mother began signing again, and Magie spoke the words. “Varnen kept detailed records of who was loyal to the crown and who could be persuaded to his own ends. He sent the most loyal abroad. Any who remained were burned in their beds the night of the feast. We lost sixteen bunkers in a massive fire. If there were survivors, they fled.”
A chill gripped my spine. That explained the smoke earlier.
Aden gritted his teeth. “Mother, do you know what happened to Mael? Could he possibly be alive?”
There was pity in her eyes. “I wish for that as well, my boy. But we mustn’t cling to false hope. If he were alive, Rasmus would have used him against me too. We need to accept that he’s dead and move on.”
“I fear Her Majesty is correct,” Magie said, looking pained as she continued her signing. “There is nothing to be done. The wedding is in just a few hours, and then the union of our two nations will be announced. Hughen will soon become a province of Messau once again.”
Aden’s jaw clenched. “Not as long as I draw breath.”
The room fell silent.
I stepped in. “Your Majesty, how long does Rasmus intend to keep your daughters in the dungeons?”
Aden frowned and signed my question. The queen’s hands moved vigorously.
“The girls will be released after the wedding.” He paused as her hands grew still. “But if I free them, Rasmus won’t have any leverage over you. You won’t have to marry him.”
The queen stared at him, her expression dark. Then she began to motion again.
“You’ll never get to the dungeons unseen tonight, let alone free them,” Magie interpreted. “But the ceremony could serve as a distraction. With so many important guests coming, Rasmus will wish to put on a show of power. He’ll draw guards from below.”
“Leaving the girls under minimal security,” Aden mused. “But that wouldn’t save you from marrying that monster, so it isn’t an option.”
They fell silent. The open wardrobe caught my eye. In the center was an ornate red dress. A heavy white veil hung beside it.
“Is that the wedding gown?” I asked, walking over to it.
Aden signed my question, and the queen nodded.
“Red,” Aden muttered. “Seems fitting.”
I fingered the cloth. It was fine, far nicer than any I’d seen. This dress had to cost more than a ship. I wondered what it would be like, wearing soft material like this all the time.
I picked up the veil and held it toward the light. The folds were too thick to see through very well, although it made sense now that I’d seen the queen. Rasmus wouldn’t want his distinguished guests to be shocked by his bride’s beaten face.
“Who will be attending the ceremony?” I asked.
“I don’t rightly know,” Magie said, speaking for herself now. “At least one foreign vessel arrived yesterday, and I saw two others the day before.”
That didn’t make sense. It would have taken the invitations weeks to travel to their respective targets, then several weeks more for the guests to arrive. Had Rasmus planned this takeover so far in advance? What if something had gone wrong?
Then it hit me. Aden had raced across the ocean to deliver his message to LeZar in Ellegran, but the man had been traveling to Hughen. Were there other important guests standing by as well, waiting for the grand scheme to take its course?
Had the entire world known about this plot except for the Hughen royal family?
“I want the girls released as much as you do, my Aden,” Magie interpreted, watching the queen’s hands, “but it’s too dangerous for you to stay. If they capture you, the kingdom is truly lost. Gather troops to help free your sisters, then we’ll worry about taking back the crown.”
“Rasmus is too incompetent to rule his own country,” Aden said. “He won’t get his filthy hands on ours, not even for a day. And I’ll die before I let that man touch you again.” His voice softened. “Father sent me away to survive so I could make things right. I’m not leaving until the kingdom is ours.”
The queen frowned, her expression pleading. Her hands moved more gently this time.
“What your father wanted doesn’t matter anymore,” Magie interpreted. “Oh, dear.”
I touched the dress fabric again, deep in thought. There had to be a way to defeat a man like Rasmus. The Elena way required an army we didn’t have, and defensible as the palace was, we’d likely fail even then. Was there a smarter strategy? Something that struck deeper than a weapon?
Rasmus had crafted this takeover down to the very last wedding guest. Once the world’s highest rulers acknowledged him as Hughen’s leader, the conquered people would be forced to fall into line. Rather than defeating the nation city by city as his father had done, Rasmus had simply slaughtered its king and invited his friends to a fancy celebration party—with bodies on the gate as badges of honor.
Appearances were very important to Rasmus. A show of power, the queen had called it.
“We don’t have to kill Rasmus,” I said. “We just have to humiliate him in front of the right people.”
I lifted the veil to my face and turned toward the mirror. My features were completely indistinguishable through the fabric. Then I grabbed the dress from its perch and held it up, examining the image in the glass.
“Be careful with that gown,” Magie said, frowning. “I’ve no time to scrub it.”
Understanding dawned in Aden’s expression, and his eyes went round in horror. “No. Absolutely not.”
“What?” Magie’s gaze was still fixed on the dress as if worried I would drop it.
Aden strode over and yanked the dress from my hands. “Laney, I know what you’re thinking, bu
t it’s beyond dangerous. It’s insane.”
“He won’t know it’s me until the end,” I said. “It’ll give you and your family plenty of time to escape. I’ll wait until the last minute to reveal myself, and when I do, his guests will see him for the fool he is.”
Aden was shaking his head. “Laney, Rasmus wouldn’t stand by and watch you tarnish his reputation. He’d run you through in a blink and execute every Hughen in the room out of anger.”
“I won’t give him the chance.”
“You won’t have a choice!”
The room went quiet as everyone stiffened at Aden’s shout. Magie froze her hands in the act of interpreting our argument for the queen, looking panicked. Aden closed his eyes to gather his composure.
There was no sound from the sitting room door. Either the guards hadn’t heard, or they weren’t suspicious about a screaming servant.
“They will kill you,” Aden finally said, his voice lower this time. He handed the dress to Magie, then grasped my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes. “Laney, you are the bravest, most incredible woman I’ve ever known. But I just got you back, and I’m not letting you go again. We’ll find another way.”
“Aden.” I placed my palm on his cheek. “There is no other way. And you aren’t letting me do anything. I’m a sailor. I come and go as I please, and I’m doing this because I want to. What choice do we have? Let your mother marry him and hand over your country?”
“Laney—”
I motioned toward his mother, who watched us from her chair, expressionless. “You see those bruises? Those are just the beginning, if he lets her live at all. She’ll be a prisoner the rest of her life.”
“And you’d be dead,” Aden snapped. “We’ll send a servant instead.”
“Elyss is too thin, assuming we could even sneak her inside, and there isn’t exactly an abundance of Hughen maids about tonight. Even if you found someone else who was willing, would you hinge your family’s safety on her? You need a girl who isn’t afraid to stand up to Rasmus.”
He pulled away. “I refuse to discuss this.”