"What do you want?" Frank the bartender asked, walking over.
"Whiskey," I said. I placed two gold coins on the table. "And John."
He nodded and took both coins, pocketing them and pouring me a small shot of dark liquid. He slid it over before disappearing into the back room. I put the drink to my lips but didn't imbibe.
A few minutes later, a man took the seat next to me. In his youth, John had been a sea captain, and his skin was dark and leathery from the sun. Now, he sported a bushy beard, but his sharp blue eyes were as aware as ever, especially as he took me in.
"Haven't seen you in here lately."
"Been busy," I said, putting down the glass and playing with it. "I need some stuff. Who's in town?"
"Pretty light at the moment. King's guard's been checking our shipments lately."
I snorted. Damn Felix. "I'll take light. What do you have?"
"Kieran's down at the docks, but he's leaving tonight. I hear he's got some of that sleepy powder you're such a fan of. Maybe some arrows. Couple knives. Few surprises, too."
"Then I suppose I'll head down." I placed five gold coins on the bar. "Thanks for the tip."
"I'm hearing rumors that Beswick's bringing in some Severian artisans for the summer festival," he said as I rose to leave. "Those Severians have some funky weapons." He raised his gaze to me. "That one's a freebie."
I smirked and walked away, my cape trailing behind me as I walked outside.
Felix was waiting for me, leaning against the door. "Well?"
"Surprised you didn't go in," I replied. "Trust me that much?"
"Not at all. It's just that everyone in that bar wants me dead," he said, falling into step beside me. "I don't think a mask would hide me very well."
"You're right about that," I said, although it did make him a touch more handsome in my opinion. "And on that note, quit disrupting my weapons suppliers."
"Perhaps the royal armory could provide you with what you need."
I smirked. "I sincerely doubt that, Felix. What I need is more than just a sharpened sword."
We continued down to the labyrinth of ships and crates, Felix's questions ending in favor of keeping a low profile. My target was a pirate of sorts, although his lawful to unlawful shipments ran about fifty/fifty, the lawful half allowing him access to the official docks.
"Ah, that guy," Felix said, when we came to the dock that held his ship, a large schooner with tall masts and a flag that currently bore the Forcadel crest.
"Another friend of yours?"
"You could say that." He shook his head. "I may have to stay out of this one, too."
"Just stand guard," I said, as we arrived at the wooden ramp. "Kieran likes me sometimes. But I also disrupted a very profitable shipment about six months ago. He's still a little salty about that."
Felix turned to me, and I could almost see his eyebrows go up under his mask. "Oh?"
"It's okay, I gave him a wild night, so we're even."
My partner stumbled over his feet. "Wait, do you mean you—"
"Bye, Felix." I laughed as I continued up the ramp.
There were a pair of fierce-looking Kulkans standing guard, but they said nothing as I passed them, walking toward the back office. A light shone through the window, meaning Kieran was open for business. I just hoped he had something for me.
The man himself was seated at his desk reading a leather-bound book. He was a Kulkan, with sandy hair bleached from the sun and dark brown skin. His white leather boots rested on top of his desk, presenting a very relaxed image. But I wasn't fooled.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here," he said, turning a page. "I thought I was very clear that I was no longer doing business with you."
"Don't do business with men I'm trying to take out, and there won't be any problems," I said, walking into the office.
"Beggars can't be choosers, Veil. Between you scaring off all the thieves and that infernal captain scaring off all my smugglers, it's getting harder and harder to make my money." He finally looked up at me. "And don't you dare lecture me on going straight."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said. "Because if you did, I wouldn't be able to get what I need."
"Always trying to play both sides, aren't you?" He shook his head. "Whatever you need will cost you double."
"Then it's a good thing I brought triple." I tossed the bag of gold onto the table.
He quirked a brow as he pulled his legs off the table, opening the bag. Then his sneer disappeared in favor of a grin. "Well, all right then."
He led me down into the belly of the ship, where boxes and crates were stacked against the hull and attached by thick leather straps.
"I'm so glad we're not fighting," Kieran said, walking toward the back. "Because I have some wonderful new things to give you. I met with a very creative Nestori witch."
"Don't call them witches," I said with a shake of my head. The Nestori were one of the last remaining groups that practiced the old ways, religious and mystical arts from before the four kingdoms had been formed. Most thought it nothing but smoke and mirrors, but I'd seen enough to know that at least some of what they did was real. And even if it wasn't, they knew more about plants than anyone else I'd ever met.
"Fine, a creative Nestori medicinal," he said with a roll of his eye. "Either way, she gave me some doozies. Your favorite knockout powder, of course. And your flash-bangs. And look at this." He handed me a small button-like mushroom and a pair of spectacles with a green tint. "Put on the glasses."
I slid them over my nose. The mushrooms now glowed iridescently, and every few seconds, sprouted little puffs of green spores. When I took the glasses off, the spores were invisible, and the mushroom a dull gray color.
"What is this?" I said, putting the glasses back on. "And how would I use it?"
"You could smoke it—craziest night of my life, I'll tell you that," he said with a wave of his hand. "But the Nestori told me that these mushrooms like to attach to stuff. And these spores last for up to five minutes, which means that if you attached the mushroom to someone's cloak…"
"You could follow them," I said slowly. "Those Nestori just come up with the best ideas, don't they? I'll take ten."
"Ah, these are expensive," he said. "You may have one."
I grumbled and put the mushroom into my satchel. "What else do you have?"
There was a reason Kieran was worth the trouble. He provided me with a cornucopia of options—powders, arrows, a new set of knives that I could more easily hide under my dress, and a slingshot with pellets that could glue a man to a brick wall for an hour.
"You always have the best stuff," I said as I added all my new trinkets into my slingbag.
"So you've said." He rested his hands on my hips, and I forced myself not to stiffen. "Any chance you want to see more of my stuff before I leave?"
I smirked and leaned into him. "You just want me to take my mask off this time."
"What can I say? I want to know what your forehead looks like." He pressed feather-light kisses to my neck. "I already know about the rest of you."
I spun in his arms, offering him a coy smile. "If you come back with more mushrooms, I might be obliged."
"Oh, you drive a hard bargain, Veil," he said, running his finger across my bare cheek. "Can I get a taste of the merchandise?"
I leaned in close, so close we were almost touching, and whispered, "Next time, pirate."
Then I left him.
Chapter 11
After replenishing my supplies, I wisely took Felix's advice and returned to the castle. A light drizzle had started, which usually put a damper on street-level criminal activity. And more importantly, I was to be front and center at a pair of funerals, on display not just for the Council but the entire kingdom. I needed to be at my best.
When I awoke, the drizzle had turned into an all-out deluge, with dark gray skies and the occasional flash of lightning. Beata lacked her usual spark, her eyes downcast as she set my breakfast dow
n. She dressed me in a long-sleeved black dress with gray petticoats and white lace at the wrists and collarbones. She brushed and braided my hair, winding it around the back of my head. Then she rested the delicate gold band atop my dark hair, pinning it with several hair pins.
"I hope it's not out of place, but…I am sorry for your loss," she said, her cheeks turning pink once she stood back to look at me. "It's never easy to bury a loved one. And your brother was very loved."
I took her hand gently and squeezed it. "You are absolutely not out of place. Thank you."
Rain pounded on the carriage for the short ride from the castle across the market square to the church. Felix was silent on the ride, his dark eyes faraway and glassy. Instead of his usual blue and white uniform, today he wore a black velvet tunic with the Forcadel colors on his breast. It made him look more severe than usual, and I missed his mask and stubble.
The carriage ride was short, and Felix held an umbrella over my head as I stepped out. A roar of cheers erupted from onlookers. I barely got a chance to see the crowd before Felix was hurrying me inside the church.
"How do I look?" I asked, sweeping my hands along my hair to smooth down any flyaways.
"You look beautiful," came a withered old voice from my left.
Mother Fishen beamed down at me with watery brown eyes and a kind smile that accentuated her wrinkles. She'd been the spiritual leader since my grandfather had been king, and had baptized me in the church we stood in as a babe. My heart fluttered at the sight of her, my words silenced by reverence and nerves.
"My sweet child," she said, taking my hands in hers. "I'm so sorry about your losses, but it is wonderful to have you back with us."
"Thank you," I whispered.
Felix had resumed his spot in my shadow. "We've got to get you seated. You'll have a moment with…with them, if you like."
I nodded as the doors to the main church opened wide. A soft murmuring followed me as I walked through the pews, head held high. I focused my gaze on the ornate carvings at the front of the chapel. My black skirt swished against my legs but was soon drowned out by the whispers. I didn't dare look at them, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing I'd heard them. Instead, I lowered my gaze to the two open coffins at the front of the room, bathed in an ethereal light that seemed impossible based on the cloudy, rainy day outside.
I kept my gait steady until I reached the bottom of the steps to the dais. Then, I pulled my skirt and ascended the stairs. Up close, the coffins were ornate and beautiful, surprising considering the short notice of the funerals. I stood between both caskets, clasping my hands behind me.
There they were, my father and brother. Faces I hadn't seen in five years, faces I'd done my best to forget. And yet, looking at them now, I was struck with an overwhelming nostalgia.
I felt Felix's presence behind me and turned my head. "Can you give me a moment?"
He nodded and walked to the front pew, standing at attention with the rest of his guard. I gazed past him at the rest of the cavernous church, filling with citizens of Forcadel. My people.
I turned back around, exhaling slowly to calm my racing heart. My father's coffin lay to my right. His beard was grayer than I'd remembered, his skin pale. At his chest, his hands clasped his sword hilt, the length of it ending around his knees. And the crown atop his head was the same he'd worn when I was a little girl, bejeweled with red and green stones. Did he ever consider that he'd be buried in the crown when he wore it?
The simple gold band around my head felt heavy.
I turned to my brother's coffin, taking another step toward it to clear my head. His face seemed out of alignment, his skin too pale. His fingers were clasped gently over his chest. I didn't dare touch him, knowing that there would be no life there. If I concentrated, I could still hear his booming voice as he chased me down the hallway when I was a girl. A phantom chill skated up my spine as I recalled how he'd throw me over his shoulder and carry me through the garden like I was a sack of potatoes. His scent, a mixture of cologne and musk, wafted past my nose, replacing the overbearing smell of flowers.
I rested my hands on the casket and allowed a tear to fall. I had been furious at him for so many years, but now, looking at him, I felt a mixture of grief and something else. Regret, perhaps?
"Brynn?" Felix's soft voice asked. "Are you ready?"
I nodded, wiping my cheek quickly and leaving the coffins and my heavy thoughts behind. We continued toward the front of the church, past the pulpit where the priest would give the eulogy, to the carved seats against the wall. Felix unlatched the gate around them and I passed through, moving to take the seat to the right.
"Ah, Brynn," he said. "Yours is the main seat."
I stared at it for a moment, memories of long holiday services and fidgeting next to my brother and father pulling me back into a lull. But I forced myself to sit in the chair, ignoring the uproar of voices in my mind telling me it wasn't right, it wasn't my seat. But it was. Now.
I loosed another long breath and lifted my gaze out onto the church. Rows upon rows lay before me, spreading farther and wider than I'd even though possible in this place. And not just one floor; three tiers of audience tilted down before me.
And every single seat was filled.
Movement toward the front of the room caught my gaze. Katarine walked to the two caskets, a vision in black. She reached into the casket and held my brother's hand, flinching as her skin touched his. Her lip trembled, but she didn't let much more emotion show than that. Having been around her a few days now, even that small show was enough. What might happen behind closed doors, when she finally let that stony wall fall away?
My words about her not mourning came back to me in full force. Hers was a look of a woman trying hard to keep it all together—and terrified for what tomorrow might bring. Guilt bubbled up from the back of my mind. I had her fate in my hands, and I'd been careless about it. Looking at her now, I saw her for what she was.
She caught my gaze, and I gave all I could, a half smile. She nodded in my direction, turned and walked back to the pews.
Fishen ascended the stairs to her pulpit, pausing only for a moment to wink at me before finishing the climb. The chattering in the chapel quieted. The architecture carried her soft voice to the upper echelons of the church.
"Good morning."
"Good morning." The swell of voices rejoined.
I scanned the room for others I recognized, and my gaze landed on the Council. They looked every bit the somber, desolate group, with Vernice dabbing her eyes and Octavius blowing his nose. I wished the culprit would jump out at me.
"Today is a very sad day," Fishen continued. "We are grieving the loss of our great king, a king who was, to many, a father figure. A man who led us into prosperity. And his loss, so suddenly, has left us all adrift. But to lose Prince August so soon after…"
Katarine ducked her head into her hand then straightened.
"For me, the loss of both King Maurice and Prince August is personal," she said. "Maurice was a young prince when I ascended the ranks, and I was the lucky priest who brought August into our church when he was born. I cried like I've never cried before when I heard the news."
To my right, Felix shifted, quickly wiping his cheek before resuming his attentive stance.
"But there is cause for celebration," she said. "For our princess Brynna-Larissa has returned to us from her studies across the great sea."
At once, I felt every eye in the room swivel toward me, and I wanted to dissolve into a puddle. Even as my palms began to sweat, I kept them resting comfortably on the chair that wasn't mine. This was the kingdom's first look at me, and I wasn't about to disappoint them.
"I have seen in her heart. She loves this city, has bled for its people. She will make a fair and just ruler, and carry on our many beautiful traditions. If you will join me in a prayer so that we might send our good wishes to her to find courage during this troubling time."
The congregation
bowed their heads, and my chest constricted.
"Dear Mother, please look down upon Princess Brynna as she takes the mantle of queen. Please guide her to make wise decisions. Help her see the greater good as she makes proclamations. Give her the strength to lead us further into divinity and prosperity. Keep Your hand upon her, oh Mother, and keep her safe. Amen."
"Amen."
The ceremony continued with the more religious aspects—a reading from the scriptures, a song of prayer, a long, emotional tribute from Garwood, more reading, and finally, a song that lasted ten stanzas longer than it should have. Then, finally, the service was over, and people shuffled from their seats.
"Can we go now?" I asked Felix, working my numb butt on the seat.
"Receiving line," Felix said, nodding to the line of people queueing up.
"Am I to receive everyone?" I said with a whine. There were probably thousands there.
"No," he said with a little chuckle. "Although it would be funny to watch you squirm. You'll receive the Council and a few others."
The Council came first, pausing at the caskets first. One by one, they bowed their heads and dabbed their kerchiefs against their eyes. Then they continued their procession toward me.
Vernice was first, the tip of her nose red as she reached her hand to me. Felix nodded imperceptibly, and I took it, squeezing it awkwardly from behind my gate.
"I forgot just how young the prince was," she said. "Tis a pity Katarine was not with child."
"Yes," I said. That would've solved everything. "Pity."
She left me, and Octavius took her place. He was already three sheets to the wind, the pungent odor of whisky flowing from his breath.
Felix must've noticed him because he nodded to Coyle and Octavius was shuffled away. Garwood and his husband took his place, both wearing stiff collars that accentuated their cheekbones.
"Your Highness," Garwood said, disdain dripping in his tone. "You look most uncomfortable on that throne."
The City of Veils Page 8