Chapter VIII
VIII Brooch
Caliane
“I’ve come to poison you, my dearest Mother,” I say from the threshold, carrying the tray in front of me like an offering. “Sit up and eat. Everything’s seasoned nicely with cowbane just for you.”
Sarah muffles a gasp of shock behind me, and Magnar snorts in amusement. Idrina grumbles something intelligible under her breath, but she sits up in her chaise longue.
“Have you found my brooch?”
“I’m looking.” I place the tray in her lap and put the fork in her hand for good measure. “You must eat it all or the poison won’t work. Eat a few bites, you’ll get explosive diarrhea. Eat everything—you’ll blissfully rest in peace.”
“Very funny.”
Idrina jabs the fork into her mashed potatoes and chews a mouthful. Once she swallows, she levels me with an accusatory glower.
“This is barely tepid!”
“It would have been warm if you ate it the first time. Sarah, take a few hours off until evening, will you? I’ll sit with Mother.”
“Mother.” Idrina huffs with derision but pierces a piece of meat with her fork. Magnar sits down nearby, picking up a book from a stack on the table. Idrina throws him an angry look.
“And you, son? Have you found your dead father’s remains yet?”
“It would help if you told us who else knew about those jewels,” Magnar says with a sigh. “I, for one, did not. You never wore them in front of me.”
Idrina swallows another bite, and I relax, seeing her appetite is back.
I tell myself to remember that the next time my mother-in-law refuses to eat, I should tell her the food is poisoned, and she’ll shovel it in her mouth without abandon.
Oh, mad Agnidari. I wouldn’t have them—and her—any other way.
“Yes, and I never let you in our bedchamber when we fucked,” Idrina says, making me choke on a breath. “Some things are between a wife and her husband, whether he’s dead or alive.”
“If you put it that way, I admit I’d rather remain ignorant,” Magnar says, nodding. “But you haven’t answered my question. Does anyone you’ve seen in the last few months know about those jewels? Think hard. I know your memory is just fine.”
Idrina huffs in annoyance. “No one even visits me here! Who was I supposed to tell? You, your clawless wife, your knights, or the nurse? You’re the only ones who could have reached in the treasure box anyway. Look for yourself.”
She points at a shelf high up under the ceiling. A small ladder stands underneath, and I understand Idrina must have used it to reach the box. She’s shrunk in old age, though she remains taller than me when she stands.
As if hearing my thoughts, my mother-in-law cackles. “Well, apart from your wife. She’s too short to reach. See? You did good, after all—picking a weak tiny wife who won’t steal anything valuable. Well done.”
I snort with helpless laughter, and Magnar rolls his eyes, his fangs peeking between his lush lips. “Everything in this keep belongs to her, though. She can’t steal it, it’s hers.”
“Not my brooch.”
We sit with Idrina until she cleans her plate, learning no new clues about the possible thieves.
Magnar requests his mother’s permission to check the box and the shelves around it, but he comes up empty.
We leave together after ringing for a servant to get the tray, and go to join the kids outside while Idrina naps.
It’s a gloriously sunny day, and the gardens are beautiful, though the northern wind blows in the chill of autumn.
We visit Raduna’s greenhouse, not the one where he took me yesterday, and eat fruit straight from the trees. I keep thinking about the missing brooch. If I didn’t turn every pillow and cushion in Idrina’s rooms myself, I’d be convinced she lost it.
Alas, that’s not what must have happened.
“Mommy, why are you worried?” Nisha asks, climbing into my lap when I sit on a bench by a blooming shrub surrounded by butterflies.
“Oh.” I smile, smoothing her hair that got ruffled from running outside.
“It’s just that we can’t find Grandma’s brooch.
You probably haven’t seen it before—it’s silver, and Grandma misses it a lot.
I’ve been looking for it, but no luck so far.
She can’t sleep and doesn’t want to eat, and I’m afraid she’ll fall ill if this goes on.
But don’t worry. We’ll find it and make Grandma better. ”
Nisha follows a brilliant purple butterfly with her gaze, looking thoughtful. For a girl of four, she’s extremely well-spoken and intelligent. She started speaking at the age of almost three, instantly in complete sentences and in both languages, mine and Agnidari.
“Mom, if someone told you a secret, is it all right to tell others if keeping the secret is hurting somebody?” she asks seriously, turning the gaze of her silver eyes on me.
I startle, a cold shiver crawling down my back. I haven’t felt this way in a long time, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is.
“It’s our little secret, my prize.”
I clear my throat, willing the sudden chill to go away, but of course, it can’t be shoved aside so easily. Once the memories come, they need to pass. Pushing them away only makes them stick.
“Um. It’s a difficult question for me to answer,” I say truthfully, looking up. I catch Magnar’s eye, and he must see my distress, because he hurries to us at once. Nisha turns in my lap to embrace him, and he sits by my side, pulling her into his lap.
“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping a soft kiss on my brow.
“No.” I smile with difficulty, but being able to tell him the truth is freeing, and some of the numb coldness drains from my limbs. “Um, Nisha, would you ask Daddy what you asked me? I think he’ll know the right answer.”
She watches me closely, then turns to Magnar and repeats her question. He stills, giving me a quick, sharp look, and I know he understands my reaction and is worried, just like me.
“Has someone entrusted you with a secret, Nish?” he asks after a moment, his voice perfectly composed.
“Yes. It’s important.”
I hide my hand in the skirts of my dress and clench it, grounding myself with the pain of nails digging into my skin. Magnar smiles, and if I didn’t know him so well, I wouldn’t notice the hidden tension around his eyes or the watchfulness brewing in their silver depths.
“I understand. But it’s also important to keep people from hurting, wouldn’t you agree? If a secret is hurting someone, I think the best choice is always to reveal it so the hurting person can be helped. But that’s what I would choose. What do you think, Nish? You get to decide for yourself.”
Oh gods, I want to claw at them both and demand my daughter spill the names of all the people who made her keep secrets so I can execute them one by one. I won’t even ask Raduna, I’ll just slit their throats myself and watch life gurgle out of their bodies.
My breath comes fast and shallow, my fury and fear mixing into a hot, livid mess in my chest. The only thing that keeps me under control is Magnar’s cool gaze holding mine long enough to communicate his intent without words.
Trust me.
“I mean, I don’t want her to hurt,” Nisha says slowly, putting her thoughts in order out loud. “And I know how to help her, and—and I think I did something wrong. I didn’t really think it was wrong before. Um. Will you promise not to take away dessert if I tell?”
“I promise,” I say at once, barely controlling my voice. “No punishment for you, whatever it is.”
Magnar sighs and nods his acquiescence, and Nisha plays with strands of his long hair, thinking it through. I am so tense, I’m ready to explode and slaughter half my court with my measly little knife, but I force myself to wait. At last, my daughter nods.
“Grandma showed me the brooch and all the other parts of Grandpa. She told me to keep it a secret, but you said she’s ill. I hope she won’t be angry I told you.”
“I’ll strangle her,” I hiss under my breath, all my fury honing into a sharp edge aimed at Idrina.
Nisha looks up at me, startled, and I force myself to take a deep breath and smile.
“Oh, but Grandma didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, looking contrite. “I did. I… I have her brooch. I wanted… I wanted to meet Grandpa, but he hasn’t come out yet.”
That surprises me enough to break my litany of violent thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Grandma said she feels he’s close when she holds the brooch,” Nisha explains seriously. “I thought he’d come to visit me, too. I keep it under my pillow.”
Suddenly, I want to howl with laughter. Relief hits me with the force of a siege hammer, and I shake in my seat, swallowing reckless sobs of hysteria. Magnar looks at me, then at Nisha, who fidgets anxiously in his lap, and motions Khay over.
“Nish, you’ll get your dessert after supper as promised,” he says. “But we have to give Grandma her brooch back, all right? Let’s do it now.”
They leave, and Khay sits down by my side.
One look at my face tells him enough, and he folds me into his embrace.
I wait until I’m sure Magnar and Nisha are out of earshot, then release all those sobs, howls, and pent-up tension.
Khay curses under his breath and pulls me into his lap, and I think I soak his shirt right through with tears and snot, but he doesn’t complain, just holds me closer.
Once I’m calm, he strokes my hair soothingly, and I hover in a numb, cool, but not unpleasant space, where everything feels detached and meaningless. All my will to live went right out with the hate and fear, but it will be back, I know. This has happened a few times before. I’ll be fine.
“What was it?” he asks quietly, pulling me closer when I slide down his lap.
“Keeping secrets.” I smile ruefully, my voice hoarse but steady. “I didn’t think… I thought I was past this, Khay. But when Nish said someone told her to keep a secret, I just… I could barely sit there. All I wanted to do was kill them all.”
Khay huffs with amusement. “Of course. You’re an Agnidari queen, my lady. Slaughtering those who hurt your children is your prerogative. But she wasn’t really hurt, was she? Because Magnar was calm, and if something bad happened, he’d slaughter people right with you.”
“She’s fine. It’s just… a silly thing, you know? I feel so stupid. My reaction was exaggerated.”
He sighs with something like exasperation. “It’s not stupid. Sure, the thing right now was stupid, but it wasn’t really about it, was it? You suffered because of something very not stupid from the past. So don’t talk like that.”
Raduna and Arvi, who were picking peaches in another greenhouse, come in.
As soon as they see us, they drop their baskets and surround us, their arms closing around me and Khay.
I sigh and let go of everything, letting my knights hold me, and all the nightmares crawl back into their holes, a little smaller, a bit more subdued.
Will they come out again? Probably. But each time I’ll take away some of their power until they have none left.