Chapter 2
The Carriage Ride
Aservant boy swept up the spilled pearls, carefully placing them in a small sack. The queen watched him do it, saying nothing as a servant girl draped another shawl around her, this one made of white linen. Soon, the room looked exactly as before, and all was quiet.
The queen collected herself and faced her audience.
Elizabeth would have expected anger or outrage, but the queen just scoffed.
“These are nothing but poisoned lies, fed to you by Fainan peasants. They lost the war, and now they can’t bear that we rule their lands.
Nothing more than commoner drivel, upset about a hierarchy that does not suit their interests. ”
The queen paused and took in each of them.
“We all know witches are up to their ears in dark magic. They cannot be trusted. The very fabric of our society would collapse if even one commoner had powers to rival the gods.” There was general nodding to this and the queen’s steely gaze softened, her expression warming.
“It seems harsh, but we must cut the poison where it lies. We all know this. We cannot allow the world to descend into anarchy. We need order and laws to govern us. We must choose hard work over spellcraft to achieve our goals.”
The tension in the air relaxed slightly as the crowd weighed the truth of her words.
“Hear, hear!” called a young lord.
The queen smiled. “Indeed. During my reign, we have achieved much. Peace. Prosperity. Rhodea has become the land of the plentiful, and we have granted a fair life for all across these lands.” After a moment's pause, the queen clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Now what is done is done. I will double the salary of every brave guardsman who saved my life tonight.”
The gathered crowd raised their fists in deference. “Hail! All hail Queen Rowena!”
The queen gave a polite smile. “The danger has passed. Now, onto dessert!”
Shaken, Elizabeth turned to her parents. “Father, what—”
Elizabeth’s father shook his head, his expression grave. Elizabeth frowned in confusion while her father helped himself to one of the fruit tarts that servants passed around on silver platters.
Her father had a few bites before he loudly declared that the party had been excellent, but it was time to retire. Her father wrapped an arm around her mother’s waist and urged Elizabeth and Charlotte to exit the ballroom first, Lady Harrison following suit.
His forced smile baffled her further.
They headed to their waiting carriage, parked behind two white and gray, dappled Percheron horses. Their footmen and horses looked sleepy-eyed and surprised to see them so soon.
“Father, why—”
Her father stopped her with a pointed look and subtly shook his head. He offered loud farewells to the other nobles leaving the ball, while simultaneously gesturing to his footmen to quickly ready the carriage.
By the time her behind hit the seat, the carriage had already started moving, and the sound of horses’ hooves echoed across the cobblestones. The adults were quiet, casting wary glances at one another, and Lady Harrison looked quite shaken.
Her father’s expression was intense, his gaze shifting to each of them with a silent warning.
Charlotte got the hint first, and began talking loudly about her plans to invite Connall and his family over for dinner. This conversation carried them until they were halfway across Calyx. Turning to Elizabeth, Charlotte said, “Lizzy! Tell me! Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Elizabeth said, dreading the inevitable conversation. A part of her clung to the hope that she would wake up tomorrow to find that it had all been a bad dream, and they hadn’t left for the ball yet.
“I heard you’re engaged! To Duke Howard.” Charlotte said, chuckling. “He certainly is rich, but ooh, I don’t envy you.” Charlotte grinned. “Though, perhaps you’ll have more than enough gold to keep you happy, eh?”
Elizabeth muttered under her breath, “I am not. Engaged, that is.”
“Elizabeth Beatrice Ashcroft. You are,” her father interjected.
Charlotte glanced between them, her smile dropping as soon as she realized Elizabeth hadn’t actually agreed to the engagement.
“And if I refuse?” Elizabeth countered, raising her chin in the air, daring him to explain why he had done this to her.
Her father glared, his face growing bright with anger. “You will not refuse. You’re getting older, and clearly, giving you the freedom to choose your own husband was a mistake. One that I have now rectified.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
Her father opened his book and pushed his spectacles further up his nose. “When you are my age, and you have children of your own, you will understand.”
She couldn’t find anything nice to say, so instead, she smiled politely and spoke through clenched teeth, “Father, may we talk later?”
Her father’s eyes never left the pages of his book. “Yes, we can talk later.”
Lady Harrison tactfully changed the subject, swiftly engaging her mother in conversation about whether she thought the musicians were better this year. Her mother responded with more enthusiasm than the subject warranted, and a lively conversation broke out, washing away the awkward silence.
Charlotte offered her an apologetic look. Elizabeth gave her a small smile, and looked out the window. It was all she could do to keep her composure.
Something brushed her hand, and she looked down to see Charlotte’s fingers giving hers a light squeeze. “It will be all right, Lizzy. I am sure of it.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wouldn’t.
Elizabeth propped her chin on her hand and stared out the window, wanting to look anywhere but at her father, who was at fault for her predicament as far as she was concerned.
They passed through the city gates and ventured far out into the countryside.
The moon was a silver crescent in the sky, and the grassy fields were painted black under the light of the stars.
The road home meandered along the cliffs that overlooked the sea, but the water in the distance was dark, only made discernible by the reflection of the moonlight on the waves.
After a time, her father said, “We should be far enough away now, Elizabeth.” He closed his book and turned to her. “What is it that you wanted to ask me back at the palace?” He blinked, his expression impassive.
How like him to pretend that everything was fine, and speak to her as if all had already been forgiven.
Elizabeth hesitated, her curiosity over what happened in the ballroom warring with her desire to avoid speaking with her father. Curiosity won, so she asked, “What was all that about? Why was everyone acting so strange?”
“We had to leave quickly, but we needed to ensure it didn’t look like we doubted the queen’s protection.”
Elizabeth struggled with his answer, searching for a way to explain the crux of her confusion. “But why did everyone act like there was nothing wrong when someone tried to assassinate the queen?”
“Because they didn’t want to start a panic, which was undoubtedly the reason for the attack.”
“Horrible,” muttered Lady Harrison. “Those Fainans have much to answer for. Sending two helpless girls to die. And for what? To make a statement?”
“Indeed,” her father acknowledged.
“Those poor girls,” Elizabeth’s mother fretted. “I don’t envy them. That was a foolish thing to do, trying to throw a knife at the queen with so many guards present. They were only girls, even younger than ours!”
“Simply dreadful,” Lady Harrison agreed.
“But … if I may?” Elizabeth paused, considering her next words with care. “How could they have hoped to succeed? You said it yourself; they were two serving girls. How could they have possibly believed that they could kill the queen and make it out of the palace alive? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Her father was quiet for a moment. Finally, he said, “I do not think that they hoped to make it out alive, and I do not think that the attack was meant to kill the queen.”
“What do you mean? They threw a knife at her,” Elizabeth said exasperatedly.
“Yes, they could have hurt the queen. If they had overcome insane odds, and we had been very, very unlucky. But I do not think the person who sent those two girls meant to kill the queen.” Her father removed his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief he procured from his coat.
“You weren’t there at the time, but the girl’s knife hardly grazed the queen’s arm.
These were no trained assassins. The whole plan was a harebrained scheme that would have never worked. ”
“Then why do it?” Charlotte asked, crossing her arms and shaking her head. She looked as perplexed as Elizabeth. “To what end? They had to have known it would mean their deaths.”
“I don’t know.”
“Hazard a guess then, Lord Ashcroft,” Lady Harrison said quietly. “I would like to hear your thoughts.”
Her father pursed his lips like he often did when considering his next move when they played chess. “I wonder … if it was a warning.”
“A warning for what?” Elizabeth asked, perplexed.
Her father met her gaze, and his throat bobbed. “To tell us that the rebels have organized.”