Chapter 32
After a fitful night, Beatryce finally got out of bed. It was still dark outside, but dawn glowed at the edges of the horizon. She stood at the window, staring out into the garden. Part of her wanted to go out there and walk in the dew, to greet the day as it broke through the darkness.
But another part of her, a part that was increasingly becoming the dominant voice, the part that held the darkness she’d taken on from her mother, told her she should go straight into the vault and practice her magic. To practice until she could wield the dark arts with lethal accuracy.
It was a given that she was never going to have any kind of worthwhile power if she didn’t put in more time. She didn’t need Leda to harp on her about that to know it was true.
She hugged her arms around herself, the silk of her nightdress cool against her skin. Was it really so important to practice now that she had Elyra in her employ?
Couldn’t she just take Elyra to the meeting with Sparrow and let her eliminate the queen and whomever she brought along? That would be the easiest option.
Deep inside herself, Bea longed for the simpler days of being a princess. When her biggest worry was what gown to wear or who to invite to tea. Being queen was hard. Her mother had tried to tell her as much, but Bea had brushed such talk aside, always figuring she had time.
She never thought she’d be queen this soon.
Couldn’t she…just…give the crown back to her mother?
The darkness reared up, screeching at her that she could not. That she was queen now. That she’d spent enough time being weak and ineffectual. She had power within her grasp and she should take it.
That, above all else, she must avenge what was done to her mother.
Bea exhaled, her breath fogging the glass. She nodded. Her mother was too weak to put things right. It would be a long time before she regained the strength she’d once had. If she ever did.
It was unlikely Anyka would be queen again.
Beatryce had to accept that. She had to stop being weak. Yes, the darkness hissed. She had to find her spine and do what needed to be done. She had to burn any trace of weakness out of her soul with the fire of the dark arts.
In doing so, she would gain new strength, the darkness promised. She would be the greatest ruler in all the realms.
Other kingdoms would bow to her. They would fear Malveaux like never before.
Her eyes narrowed. Dawn burned bright in the sky. The first step was eliminating the Radiant queen. It was her obligation. Her duty. For the sake of her mother and her grandmother. With or without Elyra’s help, Beatryce was responsible for bringing Summerton under the control of the crown.
Her crown.
Bea turned and headed for the vault.
By the time she heard knocking on the office door, she’d been practicing for nearly two hours and had so far only succeeded in lighting a candle. Still, flame was flame and she was proud of herself.
She left Leda and the mirror behind and went into the office, securing the wainscoting and checking to be sure it was flush with the rest of the wall. She’d started keeping a journal and pen on the desk as a built-in excuse for where her time was being spent.
“Just a moment,” she called out. She opened the door to find Lysette standing there. “This had better be important. I was writing.”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but a footman has arrived with a letter for you. From Summerton.”
Bea almost gasped but hid her excitement. Leda had told her a true queen never showed what she was feeling unless she could gain from it. “Very well. Bring it here. And have breakfast sent up. I want tea, and porridge with berries and cream. And make sure there’s a pot of honey on the side.
“Yes, my lady. Right away.”
Bea glanced back. She couldn’t go back into the vault for a while yet. She had to see Dren, to be sure he wasn’t feeling ignored, and she had to do whatever was necessary to officially appoint Elyra as Minister of Magic. She would have to ask Wyett about that.
Which reminded her, she wanted to speak to Wyett about training Merylynn. Surely, he would help with that, wouldn’t he?
Bea left the office, locking the door behind her. She also needed to order a slate of new gowns. Ones more befitting her status. Too much of her wardrobe was suited for who she’d been, not who she’d become.
She would give that task to Merylynn. She knew the best clothiers in the village. Mistress Finefrock could make gowns for Bea, too, but she was undoubtedly focusing on Bea’s wedding dress. And it would be good for public sentiment to be seen employing local craftsmen.
Bea sighed. The wedding. That was yet another thing she had to sink her teeth into. Could she pass that off to Merylynn as well?
Possibly. It wouldn’t do to overwhelm the woman in her first week of employment.
Lastly, Bea had to visit her mother today. She had to reassure her mother that she had things in hand. That Anyka would soon be avenged.
In fact, perhaps sooner than anyone realized, depending on what the letter said.
She went into the dressing room to pull on a robe. While she was there, she decided to look through her gowns and see what she might wear today. It was really her maids’ job, but now that she was changing her style, she wanted a hand in it herself.
She found a pale rose silk gown, the skirt embroidered in deeper rose and shades of green so that the fabric looked like it was covered with flowering vines.
Bea found the bell sleeves and plain bodice becoming.
She could wear a few ropes of pearls with it, along with her pearl circlet and earrings.
She pulled the gown and hung it on the stand, then went back to sifting through the racks. She’d removed three dresses, one of which she intended to give to Merylynn, when Lysette returned.
“Pardon me, my lady. I went back to the office thinking you’d be there. I have the letter. Breakfast is on its way up. Would you like to take it in the dining room or on the terrace?”
“The terrace.” Bea held out her hand.
Lysette gave her the letter.
Bea gestured to the gown she’d hung. “The pearl set with that and find slippers that will work. The gown on the bench is for Merylynn. The gowns on the floor are to be discarded. Send them to Mistress Finefrock for dismantling.”
“Yes, my lady.” Lysette curtseyed, then went to work.
Bea took the letter onto the terrace and sat at the table. She broke the seal with her fingernail and unfolded the paper.
Her mood changed as she read. By the end of the letter, she was fuming. She stood up, letter in hand. “How dare she. How dare she try to dictate what I do. Where I go. How we meet. I bring her an offer of peace and she does this?”
Bea glared at the letter, about to mutter the words that would hopefully set it alight and turn it to ash, when the door opened and breakfast was brought out.
She smoothed her face and tucked the letter against her side. Sylvia had accompanied the footman.
She curtseyed. “My lady, Councilor Merylynn is here.”
Bea nodded. “Send her out.” There was enough food for both of them. As usual, the kitchen had sent more than was required, an effort to please her, undoubtedly. She had no plans on eating any of the pastries they’d sent. Although she might have a piece of the bacon.
“Yes, my lady.” Sylvia left.
The footman stood by the door. “Would you like me to serve, my lady?”
“No, you may go.” She didn’t need servants hovering around her while she was in this mood. She sat, tucking the letter under her leg, and spread a napkin over her lap. She poured her tea, added honey to it, and stirred.
Merylynn came out. “Good morning, my lady.”
“No, it isn’t.” Bea jerked her chin at the other chair. “Sit and help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Merylynn took a seat. “What’s happened?”
Bea pulled the letter from underneath her leg and tossed it over.
Merylynn opened it and read. She shook her head as she set it down on the table. “The nerve.”
“That’s what I said. All her talk about peace, but clearly, only if it comes on her terms. Hypocrite.
” She took the lid off her bowl of porridge and drizzled honey over it.
More honey than she might normally, but she was too angry to care about such things at the moment.
She gave it a stir, then poured cream in.
“How are you going to respond?”
“I don’t know. Obviously, I’m not going.” Bea spooned berries over the porridge. When Merylynn didn’t respond, she looked up. Her friend had a strange, almost euphoric expression on her face. “What?”
Merylynn leaned in. “Bea, you’ve been invited into Summerton. There’s no better way to get closer to the Radiant queen than in her own castle.”
Bea frowned. “Of course there’s a better way. On neutral ground I’ve chosen where I won’t also be surrounded by her royal guards.”
Merylynn took a pastry from the plate Bea had yet to touch. “You really think she won’t be surrounded by her royal guards even on supposedly neutral ground?”
Bea swallowed the bite of porridge she’d just taken. “I suppose so. But going into the heart of Summerton and killing the Radiant queen would mean my death, too.” She shook her head. “I’m not sacrificing myself. That would be pointless.”
Merylynn’s eyes narrowed. “I still think there might be a way to use this opportunity.” She refolded the letter and set it aside. “At least something good has come out of this.”
Bea couldn’t imagine what Merylynn was talking about. She lifted her teacup. “In what way?”
“You’ve got the letter.”
The tea was good but needed more honey. She added some. “And?”
“And it had to have come from Sparrow’s own hand, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure she has a scribe just as my mother does. Who, I suppose, would be my scribe now. Or perhaps I need to hire another. Regardless, she must have someone.”
“But surely that’s her signature. No one would have signed the letter but her.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but why does it matter?”
“Bea,” Merylynn said, eyes gleaming as though she had a secret to share. “You heard what your new Minister of Magic said last night. All she needs to visit someone in their dreams is something that had once been in their hands. Wouldn’t the letter qualify?”
Bea went still. “Oh. I…” She understood why Merylynn looked the way she did. Bea smiled, too, almost giddy with understanding. “I believe you’re absolutely right.”