Chapter Nineteen #5
I went into my room and slammed the door, fuming, thinking of all the cutting things I should have said in the moment, only to see Mieka jump up from where she had been sitting on the bed, grinning widely as if sure of her welcome. When she saw my expression, her grin faltered.
“Netta? What’s the matter?”
“Oh, apparently I’m going to marry the king,” I said. I paused for long enough to allow Baldbeak to hop from my shoulder to the back of the mirror and then threw myself face-down on the bed. “That’s been the goal all along.”
“What …”
“Yes. The king is very kindly granting us admission to the Temple’s catacombs to find my mother, so long as I align myself with the crown.
Which means marrying him, evidently. Oh, and I’m meant to heal him as well, I think.
All part of Patrick’s master plan.” I thumped my head into the thick mattress a couple of times, then turned it to the side so that I could see Mieka’s face.
“Did you know?” I asked dully. “What he has been planning?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t; I swear I didn’t.”
I looked up at her.
“I mean, I didn’t know he wanted you to marry the king,” she amended. “I knew he was loyal to the crown. I mean, we all are.”
“We?”
“We’ve talked about this, Netta. Those of us who want magic to be freed again, so that anyone can practice any kind of magic they choose. You know that. The king is the only one sympathetic to our cause.”
I sat up. “Well, I’m not part of your father’s organization, and it’s not my fight.”
“You want the Temple—?”
“I don’t know what I want! That’s the point! No one ever lets me think about what I want, or make a decision, because they all want is to … put me somewhere,” I snapped. “All that talk about getting away from people who want to control me, and he’s no better. And neither are you.”
I saw anger flare in her eyes, but she pressed her lips together. I took a deep breath.
“Maybe not you.” I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m … angry.”
A wholly inadequate word for the maelstrom of emotions I was experiencing.
Mieka hesitated. “Netta … would it be so bad?”
My head snapped up. “What?”
“I mean, I can see Patrick’s point. It would put a stop to what the Temple and Ban Morin are trying to do. And you could get your mother’s book back and find out what happened to her, which is what you’ve wanted all along.”
I watched her in silence.
“And think of what you could do for mages everywhere, if you were queen!” She was growing more enthusiastic.
“You could do so much good. Especially because you don’t use spellbooks or do anything the proper way.
Well, what the Temple tells us is the proper way.
You are the perfect figurehead for free use of magic. ”
“I don’t want to be a figurehead.”
“Isn’t it worth at least considering?”
I looked down at my hands. “I’m not sure what I want, Mieka. Aside from finding Mother, or at the very least finding out what happened to her. But I want the chance to decide for myself.”
“Patrick wouldn’t force you—”
“Why do you make so many excuses for him?” I cried. “Why are you so loyal? Just because he was kind to you when your father died?”
“It’s not just that,” she snapped. “He cares about magic. All magic, not just the kinds the Temple deems acceptable.”
“Like your father did.”
“Why do you keep bringing up my father?”
“Because you won’t hear a word against Patrick, because of what he did for your family.
” To my disgust, I felt the prickle of tears behind my eyes.
“I don’t care what he did for your father, or you.
He’s no better than Milady or Ban Morin.
He just wants to use me. And instead of seeing that I want to choose my life for myself, you keep telling me how reasonable he is and how I should really let myself be used this time because he has my best interests at heart. Do you hear yourself?”
As if on cue, the door flew open without so much as a knock, and Patrick stood in the frame, his cloak half flung about him. His face was grave, unreadable. He did not meet my eyes.
“Ban Morin’s men have reached the city walls and intend to besiege it,” he said.
His voice was low but urgent, cutting clean through my anger.
“The king’s guard are riding out to hold them.
The city will be chaos until dawn. I am going to the king—stay here and do not leave until I come back for you, do you understand? ”
I bristled, but before I could shape a reply, he was gone again, the door swinging shut behind him. I stared at the closed door, every thought rattling in my skull. A siege. The guards gone from the palace. Chaos.
This was my moment.
No one would think to stop me. Patrick was gone, the guards were distracted … The whole city was distracted. I could slip out, unseen, and go to the Pontiff. I could demand answers myself, without Patrick interrupting. My pulse quickened with the thrill of possibility.
Mieka slid off the bed, frowning. “You’ve got that look. Don’t tell me you’re about to do something foolish.”
“Not foolish,” I said, though my voice was already unsteady with determination. “Necessary.”
Outside, a warlike trumpet blared, answered by another. Mieka looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Where are you going?”