Rissa’s one step ahead. “Come. The guards let us step outside a few times a day to stretch our legs.”
I follow behind her out of the tent, and Lu’s head snaps in my direction as soon as I’m outside. Rissa looks at the guards. “Just stretching my legs, boys,” she says with a practiced smile, blonde braids prettily woven through her hair. Even though she’s been wearing that same dress for days and has no hairbrush, she somehow still looks beautiful.
The closest guard narrows his eyes on us. “You know the rules. Only one at a time.”
“It’s alright,” Lu intervenes, looking at me steadily. “Gildy Locks will stick close. Won’t you?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly.
The soldier’s mouth turns down in displeasure, but he relents. “Circle the tent only.”
“Of course,” Rissa purrs before turning, and I follow beside her as we begin a slow circle around the saddles’ tent, the shadow of night giving us a pretense of privacy.
I’m brimming with worry, practically shaking with it while we walk in the snow side by side, her finger trailing lightly over the leather tent as she goes. I can hear the muffled voices of the saddles inside, already picking up on another argument.
“You know what I’m going to ask,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Do I?” Rissa replies coyly.
A breath of frustration winds out of me, a tight spiral that springs up in my throat. She’s not going to make this easy on me. I knew that as soon as she made me wait.
We may have gone through a traumatic moment with Captain Fane, but that doesn’t mean she’s my ally now.
I pitch my voice low, our slow, meandering footsteps matching in pace. “Did you tell anyone?”
The only light we have is a milky moon amidst ashen clouds, like cream poured over slate.
“Did I tell anyone what?” she says breezily.
My jaw tightens. “Did you tell anyone about what I did to the pirate captain?”
My question falls slowly, like the snowflakes drifting down around us. Once again, she’s silent, letting me squirm as we walk, her blonde hair going ginger as we pass by a lantern hanging on a nearby tent.
She finally answers me. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
I sag, hand over my thumping chest. “Thank Divine,” I breathe, condensation puffing out of my lips like smoke.
She turns to me and stops, cutting me off. “Yet.”
My short-lived relief stutters and stumbles, a newborn calf falling on the ground.
I watch her face, her eyes. Sparkling blue to distract from the darker depths within. “You promised not to tell,” I remind her.
“I have to make a lot of promises. Doesn’t mean I keep them.” Her tone is a bite, frothing in warning. “How does it work, anyway?”
An incredulous frown drops my brow. “You just admitted that you might be going back on your promise to me, and yet you think I’m going to tell you anything?”
She shrugs a dainty shoulder, flicking snow off her hair. “I want to know how it works.”
“How what works?”
Rissa smiles, like me doing the same thing—purposely being difficult—amuses her. “Never mind. It’s obvious that King Midas transferred some of his powers to you when he gold-touched you, and he doesn’t want anyone to know,” she says quietly, making my heart stop.
She studies my face, and I don’t know what she sees on my expression, but it makes her lips tilt up in victory.
“That’s why he refuses to gold-touch anyone else. Not because you’re his one and only favored, but because he doesn’t want to accidentally give anyone else his magic too.”
She’s speaking more to herself than to me, a confirmation that she reads from the lines on my face.
I glance around to make sure no one is around, terrified despite her hushed words. A hard lump has lodged in my throat, a graveled pebble that won’t move.
If Midas ever caught wind of this conversation...
“How often can you tap into his power?” she asks thoughtfully.
“You need to stop asking those kinds of questions, Rissa. You can’t tell anyone what happened with Captain Fane. It needs to stay a secret,” I say in a rushed, desperate whisper, eyes darting left and right.
She tilts her head, wheels churning, mind working. “You want my silence?”
“Yes,” I say emphatically.
Something flashes in her eyes—like the glint a fish sees right before they swallow the hook.
“Fine. But I want gold.”
My heart drops, because I both knew this was coming—and hoped that it wouldn’t. “Rissa...”
She looks back at me without remorse. “Secrets have a price in this world, and we all have to pay. Even the girl made of gold.”
I want to laugh humorlessly, not because she’s wrong, but because I know exactly how right she is.
I have spent everything on secrets. Coin. Time. Heartache. Precious moments. I’ve had to give up my childhood, my freedom, any scrap of happiness I’ve ever had.
Secrets, I’ve learned, cost far too much.
“I have to survive, same as you,” Rissa says steadily, voice holding no remorse. “You need my silence? I need gold. That’s my price.”
Seconds pass between us like breaths, one after another, no break between. She holds her chin up and her back straight, but I know the mark on her back where Captain Fane struck her with his belt will still be there, just like his kick to my ribs is still healing.
Yet it’s the hurts without marks that worry me the most.
I sag a little where I stand, a dejected breath passing my lips. “I’m sorry Captain Fane touched you,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I let it get that far.”
She scoffs. “I’m not doing this because he touched me, and I don’t need your pity. I’ve been touched by far worse for far longer. Besides, it’s my job as a saddle to be ridden.”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to make the offense seem like nothing. Not with me,” I tell her. “You may be a saddle, but you’re a royal saddle, only meant to be with the king. But more than that, you’re a woman who deserves to be treated with love and respect.”
She outright laughs at me this time—head tilted back, creased eyes pointed at flakes that fall from the sky. She lets the sharp coldness land on her face, snow dropping into her open mouth and salting her blonde hair.
I cross my arms in front of me, gloved fingers holding on like I can contain my roiling emotions. “What’s so funny?”
Rissa shakes her head and starts walking again, forcing me to match her steps. “After all this time, you still think those things are real?” she asks.
We pass by the guards and Lu just then, which is good, because it gives me an excuse to hesitate before answering.
Do I? Do I think those things are real?
If Rissa had asked me this question a couple of months ago, I would have answered straight away that Midas loves me. He always has, since the moment he rescued me.
And yet…
My king loves me.
Indeed. Loves you so much he keeps you in a cage.
That crack in the glass is back—the one that formed when I thought Midas was giving me to King Fulke.
The splintering crack is creeping out, like the web of a spider, silk-thin strands spreading, imperfections in the clear love I’ve always had for him. It’s getting hard to see through it. But is that my fault? Am I letting Commander Rip get to me?
“Love and respect exist,” I say quietly, just as we round the side of the tent again.
I might be a confused mess right now when it comes to Midas, but my parents loved each other. I don’t remember much, but I know that.
“Maybe it does for some,” she concedes, her voice also softer now, sadder. “But it doesn’t exist for women like us.”
Her confession is spoken to the horizon, words for the clouds to soak in and
rain down.
“We’re beautiful and pleasing to the eye, meant to fuel a person’s lust, meant to play a part. But we don’t get true love, Auren. And the only women in Orea who have respect are the ones who sit on a throne. Even then, they’ll always be secondary to their male counterparts. You should know that by now.”
“King Midas—”
Rissa cuts me off. “King Midas is just that, a king. And kings love one thing above all else. Power.”
The pessimism seeping from her tongue is a strong poison without any antidote.
“Gold, Auren,” she reiterates quietly, barely taking a step. “If you want me to keep your secret, I want gold.”
“I can’t make you gold.” I rub at my eyes, watching the hems of our skirts brush through the thick snow.
Her shrewd attention refuses to leave me. “So you can tap into his power but not very often? That makes sense. You clearly exhausted yourself the other night. I thought you were going to pass out after you gilded the captain with his pants stuck around his ankles.”
“I very nearly did.” Only pure adrenaline and fear kept me going.
She thinks quietly for a moment as we do another lap, passing Lu and the guards. My escort gives me a pointed look, letting me know my time is dwindling.
“Can King Midas tell when you’ve used his power?” Rissa asks.
“Shh!” I say hurriedly, looking back to make sure they didn’t hear. None of them are looking our way. Lu is too busy gloating that she won the round, while the other two are grumbling about beginner’s luck.
I relax slightly as we round the corner, though her lack of discretion is unsettling. “You should’ve carved a piece out from Highbell Castle if you wanted gold so badly,” I mutter.
“Do you have any idea how often the guards inspected every inch of that place?” Rissa scoffs and looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I’m not a fool. The few saddles who ever dared to take a single, tiny piece were always caught. Always. And believe me, their fate wasn’t worth it.”
I swallow hard, my mind conjuring up all sorts of punishments. I never considered what inspections Midas must have put into place to ensure no one stole anything from inside the castle, or even pieces of the structure itself.
“The gold you get me has to be new, completely separate from anything the king owns or touches. Turn the damned spoons gold, I don’t care. Just get me enough.”
The idea of smuggling gold to her fills my stomach with unease. “Enough for what? What will you do with it?”
“Buy out my employment.”
She answers so quickly and succinctly, it’s clear that she’s been thinking of this for a while. “But...the royal saddle contract is incredibly high. You’d need—”
“A lot of gold to buy it,” she finishes for me with a nod. “I’m aware. That’s where you come in.”
I shake my head vehemently. “There’s no way you could have that much gold without raising suspicion. The king would find out.”
“He won’t if I do it right, which I will. Believe me, I have no intention of getting caught and having my head on a golden spike.”
“This is ludicrous, Rissa.”
“It’s not completely unheard of for saddles to be given extra coin if they’ve pleased the rider enough,” she says. “And I’ve been tipped before.”
“But—”
She waves me off. “It’s simple. Whatever golden bits you give me, I’ll trade for coin. I’ll buy out my contract when I have enough. If the king makes inquiries, I’ll explain that I’ve been saving every extra bit of coin I’ve earned over the last seven years. I’ll even say that Captain Fane himself was so pleased with my performance that he gave me a hefty sum,” she smirks. “The king will believe it. I’m his best saddle.”
I can’t argue with her confidence, because it’s true. She’s been with Midas for years, and she’s the best, most poised, most seductive saddle I’ve ever seen.
“I’ll finally be my own master,” she whispers, stopping at the back of the tent. Her voice rings with the clarity of deep-seated want. I can tell right then that there’s no hope of trying to talk her out of this.
Rissa’s eyes glitter. “Freedom, Auren. I’ll finally have freedom, and you’re going to help me get it.” She takes a deep breath in through her mouth, like she can already taste it. “You help me buy myself out of the royal contract and ensure I have enough coin left over to start fresh somewhere new, and I’ll keep your secret. Forever.”
“That’s a hefty price.”
“It’s a fair price,” Rissa counters.
“Some would say that you should keep my secret out of loyalty.”
“I’m only loyal to myself.” Her tone holds no guilt, no shame. But can I really blame her? In this world, giving loyalty to anyone other than yourself is dangerous.
“I don’t want to have to tell your secret, Auren. But I will do whatever it takes to gain my own freedom.”
With the look of unrelenting determination on her face, I have no doubt in my mind that she means it. She will do whatever it takes, and despite the fact that it puts me in a horrible position, I find that I’m not angry at her. I want to help her.
I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me.
“Fine,” I finally relent, and Rissa’s sharp inhale reveals just how much she was hanging on my answer. “Don’t breathe a word of this, to anyone, and I’ll get you your gold. One payment. Enough to buy your freedom and start fresh. Nothing more.”
“When?” she asks, eyes alight with impatience.
My mind whirls, trying to think of what I can do, how to do it. No one can know. Especially not Midas.
“I can’t turn anything gold now. When we’re back with King Midas, I can do it then.”
“Why? You need to touch him to recharge?” she asks with a coy tilt of her head, fishing for more information.
I give her a flat look. “When we get to Fifth Kingdom, Rissa. That’s the best I can do. Take it or leave it.”
Two beats pass between us, and then she nods. “Deal.”
We walk back to the front of the tent in silence, passing the guards one last time.
“Time’s up,” Lu tells me.
“We’re done,” Rissa assures her with a friendly smile.
But that smile fades when she stops quickly in front of the flaps, nearly causing me to run into her. I jerk to a halt, blinking at her in surprise.
Her voice drops quieter again, and she pins me with a fierce look. “As soon as we get to Fifth.”
I nod warily.
I can tell she’s reading my expression, my body language, weighing my words, double checking that my promise is sincere. She’s close enough that I can feel her breath on my cheek, her own face lit up from the campfire beside us.
“Don’t go back on your word, Auren,” she murmurs to me, a dangerous fire in her voice—one that I helped to spark. “If you do, I’ll make a better deal with someone else.”
She turns and slips into the tent without another word, leaving me in the snow, stuck to sweat in the middle of her promised threat, wondering which of us will end up burned.
Chapter 18
QUEEN MALINA
The atrium is my least favorite room in the entire castle.
I liked it here once. When it was full of the plants that my mother tended, when the air was brimming with soil and flowers and life.
Now, it’s a tomb.
Hundreds of plants, all dead, all stuck inside their gilded caskets. With the open dome ceiling made entirely of glass windows, there’s no escape from the gleam as the gray, cloudy daylight filters in.
Every plant I walk by is a memory.
My mother’s fingernails lined with soil, her smile when she placed shears in my hand. The way she hummed as she walked, aisle by aisle, watering every rosebush and sprout.
I loved it then. Now, it makes my skin crawl.
Of course, as the ruling queen,
I’m forced to come here more often. As luck would have it, it’s always the one room that visiting nobles want to see.
Lady Helayna stops, skirts brushing against the perfectly arranged tulips, some of them still drooping slightly from the weight of their petals.
Eyes gleaming, black hair perfectly shiny and swept up into a loose bun, this pristine countess belongs to one of the wealthiest families in Sixth Kingdom, and now, she’s the head of it. A rare position of power for a woman in a strong family.
“This is extraordinary,” she says, her eyes holding wonder as she looks up at the solid gold fountain.
I try to see it from her viewpoint, her fingertip dragging across the stagnant ripples. The water’s descent is frozen in time, the continuous stream like golden curtains.
At the bottom well of the fountain, there’s a splash that will never settle, water that will never again be clear and cool, or pure enough to cup your fingers in and drink. Water that once spewed from the top is now caught in a graceful arc, solid gold rivulets as thick as my arm.
“So perfect, Queen Malina. So utterly captivating.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it, Lady Helayna. I should have invited you to Highbell ages ago.”
“Yes, well, I’m so glad for the time to do such things now.” She smooths the front of her black dress, my eyes following the movement.
“How are you faring?” I ask as I purposely start leading her away. The wind has begun to howl outside, snow battering against the window panes like the angry fists of ghosts. Further proof that this room haunts me.
Lady Helayna fidgets with the gauzy fabric that’s tucked into the high collar of her dress. The mourning veil will be worn over her face for a month, only to be taken off in the confines of her home or in the presence of royalty.
“Oh, I’ve been managing, Your Majesty.”
Our heeled footsteps echo in the large space, and even though all I want to do is run out, I manage to lead her away at a respectable pace. Although, when she stops at the vines draping down the wall, I clench my teeth.
“I imagine it’s been very difficult since your late husband’s passing,” I say gently, cupping her elbow in a show of remorse, when really, I do it to pry her away, to keep her walking.
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