Chapter Twenty-Eight Fenlia #2
‘He was nine when he entered the cells. He had been given a royal education before that, but…there were gaps from a lack of context or understanding. We…taught him as best we could. Told him stories, tried to entertain.’ Fen cannot imagine how hard it would be to do something like that, to describe what is indescribable without comparison or understanding.
‘There’d be times when the Queen would have him come out of the cells.
Sometimes to murder someone at her behest…
but every year no matter what: one night to see the stars.
And whenever he returned, he’d tell us stories of his own.
He’d describe every colour he saw, every glorious sight.
In those nights…I think all of our favourite colours were whichever one he described. For in that moment, it was perfect.’
Cieli loves him. Fen knows this. She has seen the loyalty Cieli has towards Cat and knows that love must be involved.
But it feels deeper than that. It is not merely the love of a monarch or the love of a comrade.
Cieli loves Cat like Fen loves Elician. Cat is as much a part of Cieli’s family as Elician is Fen’s.
She has tried to imagine the Reaper cells before.
It was impossible not to after Lio and Elician returned.
She saw how it changed them both, how the same Brielle that taught Cat as a child left an impact so profound on Lio he nearly killed a man when he learned of her death.
The Reapers in Altas were not Reapers Cat knew personally, and yet, despite that, they went to him.
They understood him, wanted to touch and be near him.
‘Why do your people care so much about him?’ she asks.
‘In Soleb our people respect and honour our king, but…you love Cat. You would do anything he asked. All of you would. And have.’
‘He is our son, brother and future, Fen,’ Cieli says. ‘He’s the best hope we have.’
‘And you’d trust him over anyone? Everyone? No matter what they said?’
‘Yes,’ Cieli says, with no hesitation or doubt. ‘He is our king, now and always. Is it not the same for you?’
‘No,’ Fen murmurs. ‘It is exactly the same.’
She takes a deep breath then, finishing the last of her bread and slowly standing. ‘I’ll be back in a few hours,’ she tells Cieli. ‘I need to clear my head.’ Cieli nods and offers an awkward salute, hand over her chest. It is a kind attempt, for all it is lacking in the gesture’s usual decorum.
Fen leaves the butcher shop and makes her way down to Elena’s home.
Her former mentor has been hard at work testing potential inoculation methods.
Elena isolates herself in her lab most nights, peering at skin samples beneath her microscope and taking note after note.
Only a few days ago, Fen was horrified when she spied a mark on Elena’s arm, with a dark painted circle to indicate the original dimensions of that wound.
Elena had mixed together some kind of substance using cells from a patient before and after they were healed.
They all watched the wound’s progress with bated breath but, three days later, the cut showed no signs of infection, and Elena was more than a little persuasive when she said she wanted to try testing it on other people in the city, just to make sure.
She has been preparing the concoction ever since.
Fen knocks on her door as she enters the home. She peers in. ‘Still alive?’ she asks, only half joking. And her mentor nods without looking up from her research.
‘Still alive. There’s food in the cupboard. I missed lunch earlier, you can have it.’
‘No,’ Fen says. ‘It’s fine. I just need a few moments’ rest.’ But Elena isn’t listening. She is still working. So, Fen closes the door and turns, not towards her former bedroom in this home but to the basement and the secret passageway outside the city.
Lord Hamad has written to her. A simple, quick message, asking her only one thing: could she meet him, tonight.
She’s surprised he dared to risk leaving his home in the middle of such an outbreak, but so long as he has the resources to keep himself away from anyone infected…
he should be fine. And she, certainly, cannot infect him. She is immune.
He has asked her to meet him at an old guard outpost meant to serve as a signal tower for Crowen should enemy forces manage to push past Altas into the interior.
It takes her half an hour to reach it on foot.
Three men are standing by the door and they watch her approach without saying a word.
They let her inside without much comment, and she finds the lord sitting at a long table stacked with more food than Fen has seen in weeks.
Her stomach gurgles, but she ignores it.
Hamad smiles when he sees her. He stands and bows perfectly.
‘My dear princess, you look exhausted. Please, will you sit with me?’
‘Thank you, Lord Hamad,’ she says, approaching the table. She sits in the proffered chair to his right.
‘How are things in Crowen, Your Highness?’ he asks her. He offers her some wine, and she thanks him again.
‘The plague is spreading,’ she says. ‘We are doing what we can to halt its progress.’
‘But it’s not enough, is it?’ Hamad asks.
‘The gods have granted us a formidable challenge,’ Fen replies. ‘We do what we can.’
‘May I speak frankly with you, Your Highness?’ She nods.
‘We are concerned that Princess Adalei’s…
actions are not in the best interest of Soleb.
’ Fen gently places her cup back on the table.
She folds her hands in her lap and forces herself not to wring her fingers.
‘To allow travellers to go as they please, to offer no proper protection against this plague…are these truly the orders she has been given by our beloved king?’
Fen does not trust Lord Hamad. She does not like Lord Hamad.
Save for his relation to Rodans, she would not think well of him at all.
But Lord Hamad can be trusted in one matter and one matter alone: he likes living a life of comfort and favouritism.
He looks out for himself and his family.
And he always, always, looks for an opportunity to climb.
He speaks now, in earnest, because he already knows the answer to his question.
These are not Elician’s orders. And if Elician did not order them, then Adalei is acting on her own.
She meets Hamad’s eyes. Confirmation or denial will change the tone and tenor of this meeting. Cieli asked if she would follow her king in anything, even if everyone else disagreed. She knows his orders. She knows his command. ‘No,’ Fen says. ‘No, this is not what my brother wanted.’
Hamad’s lips twitch. He keeps his grin subdued. He reaches out and touches her hand. ‘I thought not,’ he says gravely. ‘This, all of this…it is wrong. Givers heal our sick, they always have. But this plan…relying on Alelunen medicine – I’ve heard that physician in Crowen is sawing off body parts.’
‘She’s lancing wounds to drain excess fluids,’ Fen tries to explain.
‘It’s horrifying.’ It is. She can’t deny that it looks horrifying. But it does good. Even if it feels wrong.
‘And now…Reapers roaming the land, Alelunen ones at that…’ He shakes his head. ‘It flies in the face of our traditions.’
‘I have written to Wilion d’Altas,’ Fen says. ‘I asked him to help Crown Princess Adalei reconsider her position. He refused.’
‘He is to be her prince consort once she ascends, is that not true?’ Hamad asks.
‘That’s true.’
Hamad shakes his head. He looks truly remorseful. ‘And so he chooses Adalei over our present king, when his duty is to our king first and foremost.’ Fen’s lips purse. ‘I have heard reports from across the country – the death toll is mounting almost too fast for the gravediggers to manage.’
Fen nods. ‘Adalei feared that if the cities were entirely closed and all transportation halted, famine would set in.’
‘And do you believe that?’
‘I believe famine is already upon us.’
‘Exactly right, exactly right.’ Hamad nods. ‘You have reasoned this out well, of course you have. You are your father’s daughter.’
The compliment catches her off guard. She doesn’t think anyone has ever told her that before. She almost doesn’t know what to say. ‘I…King Aliamon adopted me—’
‘Yes, but he raised you with care. Though it is not our beloved King Aliamon that I mention here but your real father.’
‘You knew my real father?’
‘Of course. Ranio Ragden – master tactician and spy. He was one of our beloved King Aliamon’s closest advisers…and a dear friend.
He served the court with distinction for many years.
You have his mind.’ Her heart pounds in her chest. She struggles not to cry at the idea.
She thinks of the few memories she still has of her father, of his great smile, his strong arms, his character.
He was a hero from her storybooks, a champion capable of cutting down great evil.
‘It is why I come to you now. My lady…until King Elician returns, Soleb must be trusted to those who will care for her properly. I do not doubt that Adalei has the right intentions, but her actions are bringing our people to ruin.’
‘There is no one else.’
‘When you abdicated your position, it was only to allow Adalei to inherit first, isn’t that right? You are still her heir?’
Fen’s mouth goes dry. ‘I…Right now I can’t lead the country. I…I need to focus on healing people and – they are my priority.’
‘Yes…you’re right. Forgive me. And your dedication to this country is without question.’ He pats her hand gently, soothingly, like a father. ‘But if you will not take this chance for yourself…you could nominate a regent.’
‘For who? There are no other blood relatives.’
‘Elician’s child.’
‘His what?’
‘King Elician has a child.’
‘No.’ Fen shakes her head. ‘No, that’s impossible.
’ Elician has never lain with a woman. He never would have risked such a thing.
For Givers to engage in any kind of intercourse with someone of the opposite sex is an almost guaranteed way to start a pregnancy.
They cannot help it; life starts at their touch.
Elician knows that. He even avoided dancing at parties, finding excuses to slip away to his room and write poems or daydream about the Moon Prince who eventually became his husband.
His husband, whom Elician has sworn to never betray.
No mistress, that is what Elician said before all of court.
And even if he did somehow engage in intercourse with someone…
there wouldn’t be enough time for a child to have been born.
She bites her lip. Did someone in Alelune take advantage of him?
Force him? Queen Alenée had wanted a child and she—
‘Before Prince Elician was shamefully captured by Alelune, he gifted a child to a woman on her way to Himmelsheim.’
‘He gifted a woman a child?’ There is something about that phrasing. Hamad gives her a very patient look.
‘He is a Giver after all, is he not?’ he asks.
‘My lord—’
‘He raised all of Altas from the dead.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘You misunderstand me, I think. It is not my intention to use this information against our rightful king – he is and always will be our good and just ruler. But I am concerned now with the status of this country in his absence. And therefore…the status of this child.’
‘His child…’ She repeats it again. Her head spins and she tries to focus her thoughts. ‘You think he made a Giver-born child?’
‘Yes. There are witnesses. And, legally, he is her father.’ Hamad smiles. ‘Legally, he has an heir.’ Fen’s suddenly very grateful she is sitting down, but Hamad’s smile is only growing. ‘They’re right upstairs…would you like to meet them?’
She would not. But she has no choice. Not now. She nods without thinking, and Hamad turns his hand over so he can take her fingers in his. They stand together, and he leads her to a mistake Elician knew better than to let happen.