Chapter 29
A Norsomber fisherman was the first to make a report of the strange ships that loitered on the clouded horizon of the northern coast, unperturbed by the gales or storms that sometimes ravaged the area.
It was as if they had anchored out at sea, never coming any closer than they were when he’d first spotted them, though occasionally they would disappear for days at a time before making a return.
The information arrived through military channels, delivered by Captain Branning of the castle’s guard.
I’d heard his name, but seldom came across the man in person.
He had a unique aura about him, the bearing of a man who had seen war and came out thick-skinned as a result.
His cheekbones protruded in a way that made his face especially geometric, but in his younger years, he would have been handsome.
“It must be Korosa,” was the general attitude of the gathered council.
It was possible they’d heard of the repurposed naval ships and were gathered to observe affairs in Gallae.
I knew little of the northern nation, but it was obvious from the atmosphere that they were no ally to Antier.
It remained to be seen if they were preparing to make themselves an enemy, but if they were, diverting even a small portion of the naval fleet was a risk.
The queen tapped her fingers on the table.
“We might raise taxes,” offered Marquis Tharon. “Cover the cost of new ships.”
“Our people sustain themselves on rationed porridge and whatever they can gather from the wilds. We have even relaxed our poaching laws.” Queen Adelaide scowled.
“If you’d like to bear witness to another bloody revolt, then by all means, Lord Trefor, let it be done.
I will let you wear the crown, while we are at it, and I shall retire to some sunny place where I might lie naked in the sun with a drink in my left hand and a young, handsome plaything on my right. ”
The marquis opened his mouth, shut it, and settled back into his seat. The queen’s fingers continued their repetitive motion, nails clacking on the wood.
“It’s unlikely they’ll do anything immediately,” she said. “Their emperor keeps busy with that never-ending war on Sala, and he’s reserved a seat for the wedding. That buys us some time.”
Quinn twirled the ring around his finger before speaking.
“Your Majesty, if I may—the Korosans are being far too obvious. If they only meant to spy, they would simply send an agent to our shores. They may be expecting us to react to their presence; it’s an attempt to goad us north, perhaps to further strain our resources.
If they do intend on starting anything, they’ll want to see us weakened first. Emperor Emil has already got one war going on.
If he wages another, surely he would not act without certainty of a swift and decisive victory. ”
Queen Adelaide’s drumming stopped. “Are you suggesting we ignore them?”
“I’m suggesting that if Korosa is going to watch us, we should give them something a little more entertaining.
” Quinn leaned forward. “Theatrics. Let us take our damaged vessels from dry dock and give them the illusion of seaworthiness.
Tow those to the north with skeleton crews, fly full colors, and let their intelligence reports betray them.
Meanwhile…perhaps we might discreetly inform the Salans of the peculiar naval movement.
“As for the wedding, let the emperor find us with an impression of prosperity. Let him return believing Antier is too strong for an invasion attempt.”
The queen’s lips curved. “And if they test our illusion?”
“Then we lose nothing but wood destined for scrap, and we gain insight on their plans.”
Prince Nicolas leaned back in his seat, folding his hands on his abdomen. “Clever.”
Queen Adelaide nodded and rose. “Let us adjourn. Captain Branning, you will see to the execution of the viscount’s plan.”
The captain’s jaw set firmly. “Consider it done.”
“Alana.”
I flinched at the sudden acknowledgement, craning my head to the queen.
“Walk with me.”
I joined her as she left the room. There was no sign of Dierdre this time.
“I sometimes order her to sit in and listen to other affairs that I cannot be present for,” Queen Adelaide said, reading my mind as I searched around.
“Some family came down from Caermont requesting an audience. I told her to summarize their woes, and that I would handle them by nightfall. I cannot stand the way my cousins prattle on. How poor Dierdre suffers on my behalf.”
I smiled. “She suffers gladly. Dierdre is a loyal friend.”
“Yes.”
The queen went quiet as we passed a group of servants, briefly looking over their work as they cleaned the walls.
“The wedding shall be held at the Palace of Caermont. It is more fashionable,” she said softly. “I have already diverted a few guests there. No doubt my relatives have their sentiments regarding that decision, but Altaigne lacks the refinery necessary for a good show.”
“Does it?” I asked.
Queen Adelaide ignored the question. “Your role will change soon. You’ll be Queen Alana, and I shall step down to become an advisor. The leadership I train you for will soon be balanced with the trials of motherhood.”
The thought struck me like a bolt. Until now, I hadn’t put any thought into such expectations. It was monumental enough that I’d be expected to sleep with the prince—the king, by then—but to carry a child?
My throat tightened, and my stomach threatened to rise up through it. All around me, the walls lilted.
“I shall be grateful for your advice,” I managed, though my voice was hoarse. “And all the happier not to lose you to a warm island, a drink, and a pretty boy.”
The queen snorted, a sound rarer than gold. It gave me the necessary courage to make my next statement.
“I’ve never been less ready for anything in my life. To be queen, to be a wife, to have children?”
“Oh, but I see greatness in you, fair Alana,” said the queen. “You will undoubtedly face your share of hardship from your heritage, but I’ve been watching you. It will take no time at all for you to become a beloved queen.”
We went down a flight of stairs, the queen’s dress trailing long behind her. Ordinarily Dierdre would lift it for her, and I wasn’t sure whether to bend and assist, but Queen Adelaide insisted I keep astride for conversation’s sake.
“I always wished for a daughter.”
I turned. “Is that so?”
“After Nicolas, there were many times I struggled to conceive.” Her eyes were dark. “Perhaps the Duke of Greene was onto something. Maybe my blood is weakened from the very same pedigree others would shame you for lacking.”
I’d heard similar stories of my parents’ patients. I couldn’t begin to imagine the despair.
“Have that sorceress bless your womb,” the queen said, and I nearly leapt from my skin.
She knew? How long had she known? Did she know about me? It was too casual an acknowledgment of what could easily be a death sentence in other circumstances. I parted my lips to refute the statement, but was cut off before I could begin.
“Please. Florence was at Pontarena when I visited as a young woman, and she hasn’t aged.
” Queen Adelaide’s lips quirked at the corner, then she continued.
“Our court is no stranger to tragedy. Your friend, Lady Maeve of Sunhill, lost a child only a year before you came and hasn’t tried again since.
A number of women have shared the same fate.
And I…I rejected the offer to have my womb blessed when I married Elias.
I was too mired in Gallaean tradition. If only I’d listened to him. ”
Recovering from the fact that she knew what Florence was and seemed perfectly unfazed about it, I registered the full sadness that wore on the queen. Beneath a face of white makeup were fine cracks of grief, of nights spent weeping and days spent losing herself to mourning.
My body moved on its own, fingers extending toward her.
It was a breach of the protocol driven into me since my arrival, the smallest of treasons, but I didn’t stop.
My fingertips barely grazed the silk of her glove when Queen Adelaide withdrew.
Rather than hardening, the queen recognized the gesture’s intent and smiled faintly.
“I have a daughter through you,” she stated, stopping in front of the forbidden wing that led to the royal quarters. “You may call me Mother, once you are wed.”
What had I hoped for? To comfort the queen with only my touch? But the thought remained that I might be some relief to her; that through marriage, she gained something life in all its cruelty would not grant her. “I would be honored to do so, Your Majesty.”
Queen Adelaide inclined her head and turned down the wing. She disappeared behind a large set of gold-plated doors which led to a room that would one day be mine. The corridor was once again silent, save for the occasional murmur that echoed out from various chambers.
I swallowed, then went to find Florence. The least I could do was let her know the queen had found her out.
“She really suggested that?”
Florence sat at my table, clutching her black mink cloak. She was curiously unperturbed until I told her about the womb-blessing. Now those long lashes of hers batted with amazement, and the sorceress leaned back against her seat.
“You’re not worried?” I asked. “She knows what you are.”
“She does. Not all Gallaeans are superstitious; her view on magic is likely a controversial one after her marriage to King Elias,” replied Florence. “Still, to say you should seek blessing…it is not unheard of among royalty, but it surprises me to hear it from her.”
I really hated to ask, but… “What, pray tell, does a womb-blessing entail?”
“It’s a ritual that ensures the prince’s seed takes. I can do it for you, but I’ll need to make the necessary preparations. It will require me to travel for a time.”
I fought to stifle the memory of my invasive introduction to the Lord of Night.