The guards at her side escorted her to the center of the room and withdrew. Selia and the Kildenreans gathered in a mob at the steps of the dais, facing her. Everyone was looking at her. They waited. She curtsied to the king.
“Princess Napralina-Victery,” said the king. He raised one eyebrow.
“No, I am not she,” she said in her careful, Kildenrean accent.
“Not Napralina?” The king’s voice was a hammer that rang against the stones.
“No, I am not, but—”
The king signaled, and Ani heard the thuds of the guards’ heavy boots approach from behind. Selia smirked.
“No, wait.” The words broke like sobs from Ani’s throat. A guard’s hand was on her shoulder, and she fell to both knees and threw her hands on the ground in front of her, as though she would cling to edges of the floor stones to remain. “Please, wait, listen to me.” The guards stood beside her now, close enough that she could feel the heat from their bodies on her back, but they did not pull her away. “Please.”
“One moment, sire.” Geric squinted against the sunlight that fell steeply through a high window and into his eyes. He took a step forward. The rays of light slipped off his shoulders and onto the ground, heavy as shadow, and his face dimmed to the light of the hall.
“Isi?” His face softened in recognition, then his mouth widened in that wonderful smile that made lines in his cheeks and brightened his eyes. “Isi, what’s going on?”
Clearly he expected her to smile back, to laugh with him and admit she was playing some clever joke. She wished she were, but just a glance at Ungolad ripped away any desire to smile. Crouched before Geric, she felt hollow and slight and wretched, and her stomach felt light enough to float up to her throat.
“Isi was my grandmother’s name, among friends,” she said. Her voice did not sound like a princess’s, rather squeaked from her throat, narrowly escaping its tightness. Geric’s eyes darkened under a frown line. She forced her gaze away from him and to the king, who watched her with barely controlled outrage. Slowly she stood, and the guards, for the moment, let her be.
“Sire,” she said, “I am Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, first daughter of Kildenree. That girl"—she pointed toward Selia without looking—"was my lady-in-waiting.”
The silence of the stone hall broke then with gasps and murmurs, but most clearly of all—a sound high and fierce that rose above the noise like a raptor’s cry—was a laugh. The other noises died away, and the laugh remained and became a lovely sound, dainty, artless, intelligent. Selia’s posture was confident and casual, and she seemed to light up prettily with the attention that focused on her. She smiled and addressed the king.
“My compatriots and I stood here in silence, Your Majesty, eagerly awaiting what word this lost bird would bear, and it has proved more entertaining than we had imagined. She is the princess!" Selia shook her head with a sympathetic expression.
“This is the little runaway I told you of, sire, the serving girl who decided in the Forest that she no longer wished to serve and slipped away in the night with one of my gowns and a bag full of coins. It would seem she still has the dress but has spent the coins—though how she managed that in just these few months might be answered only in a gambling hall or tavern. At any rate, it would seem she still does not wish to serve.” Selia crossed to Ani and put a soft hand on her shoulder with a benevolent, older-sister expression. “But really, Selia, is not crying ‘princess’ taking one step too far?”
Ani was still. She could feel Selia’s words tremble and wind around the room like a tangible breeze. They slipped from Selia’s mouth and hummed in her ears. Watch that one, Ani thought, she has the gift of people-speaking. Ani had never before felt the full force of Selia’s ability. Her ears filled with Selia’s words, her head bowed under the weight.
“No,” she said. It was all she could say.
“Come now, my dear,” said Selia. Her voice was slick like running water and low enough not to echo against stone. “Being a princess is more work than a lady-in-waiting. You should know; you have watched me most of your life.” Her smile was only for Ani, and it revealed traces of spite and anger. Ani winced. “You have told me how you have felt being consigned to a life of servitude. I sympathize. I know you feel trapped by your birth and have seen your talents go wasted by the narrowness of your occupation. To wait. To sit and wait and serve your mistress. I can understand it must be frustrating. But, princess?” She laughed so lightly, it seemed to be not an expression of humor, but a gift to the listener. “And as much as it is a burden at times, I’m not going to resign on your behalf. So, please, for the friendship we once shared, admit the truth.”
Selia was offering her the release of all trouble, the loosening of tension, a salve for fear. It could all end peacefully. Resolution, is not that what she wanted? Ani struggled against the sound of her voice, shaking her head to free it from her ears, to shake it from her hair, where it tangled itself and whispered relentlessly, Tell the truth, resign, and tell truth.
“No,” said Ani. The word was like a stone on her tongue. “I mean, yes, I have told the truth. I am who I say I am.”
“Enough of this.” The prime minister strode down the steps of the dais. He turned to the king, his short cape lifting with a snap. “Sire, we waste time here on this runaway thief while there are pressing matters of war.”
“War,” said Ani. The word awoke her senses, and her head lightened. “You started all of this, Selia, in the Forest. The guards, you murdered them. She murdered them all, sire, she and Ungolad and the others. And I ran, so she could not kill me, too. I have been hiding these months as a goose girl. I have witnesses who saw these men try to kill me just as they killed my guards.”
Ani spared a glance for Geric to see if he believed her, but his face was somber and unreadable, like that of a guard on duty.
“Now, dear, don’t be silly,” said Selia. “All my guards are right here.” She gestured to the eighteen men behind her.
“No, the others. Where are Rashon, Ingras, Adon, and the others? And, and Radal, and Dano. Poor Dano, who looked up to the warriors as to older brothers and only ever carried a dinner knife in his belt, and"—her voice broke—"you killed him anyway. All of them, sire, all.”
Ani looked at Selia’s eyes for the first time. “Except Talone.”
Selia started to shake her head, then caught herself. Ani flashed a hopeful smile.
“You did not know that, did you? That he survived your slaughter? Sire, I beg you to ask my escort Talone. He is just outside the gates. Your guards would not admit him, but he stands ready to testify to you that what I say is true. He was there. He witnessed the massacre in the Forest.”
The Kildenrean guards looked at one another and murmured softly until Ungolad silenced them with one quick, slight look. Selia blinked.
“Ah, Talone, your cohort. Is he still with you?” Her voice lost its sweetness and almost betrayed real anger. Her lips curled slightly as though she would spit. “Of course, you would not be so brazen as to make these claims unless you had a false witness to improve the odds. He is so fickle, however, I would not have guessed him to stay with you since the Forest, once you lost your coin.”
The prime minister rustled his cape again. “Sire, the young prince is tired from the hunt, and this Kildenreans spy’s lies are none of his concern. I recommend he be saved from this raucous tedium.”
Ani looked over at the young prince. His face was pinched and white, and he tugged the bottom of his tunic with the self-consciousness of a boy who is growing too fast for his clothes. Again the thought of marrying him troubled her, but his sweet, boyish face invoked her pity as well. Knowing what she did, she could not abandon him to an unwitting marriage to the likes of Selia.
The king roughly wiped his brow. “Yes, I grow rather tired of it myself. Would that I had youth as an excuse to withdraw.” He waved a hand, and two guards, neither one Geric, began to escort the young prince from the room.
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“Wait,” said Ani, afraid she was not being taken seriously, “shouldn’t the prince stay? After all, this is the matter of his bride.”
The prime minister laughed with scorn. “You see, Your Highness? She doesn’t even know what she’s saying.” He turned to Ani with an arch in one eyebrow. “The princess, of course, is betrothed to our elder prince, Geric.”
“Geric?” Ani felt as though all the wind had left her lungs, and she said his name with her last squeak of breath. “Geric is the prince?”
He met her gaze, his lips tight and thoughtful.
“You are?”
He nodded. His forehead was worried with lines, and while he stared at her, she found it hard to look away. She did not want to. She was afraid she was losing, losing the war and losing the fight for her name, and now, painfully, she realized she was also losing Geric.
“Isi, are you truly Kildenrean? Truly Anidori?”
“Yes, I am, I swear, I—”
The king grumbled. “What’s all this, Geric?”
Geric addressed the king, but he kept his eyes on Ani. “I knew this girl, before, as a goose girl.”
“You called her Isi,” said the king.
“Yes, that’s what she—that’s what I thought her name was.”
“And did she ever claim to you that she was the princess?”
“No, but—”
“Oh, sire,” said Selia with a sigh, “clearly she was trying to use the prince to win her little game.”
“Mmm,” said the king. Geric looked at her again, and the new doubt in his eyes hurt her like a slap.
“Sire, there are other matters that beg your attention,” said the prime minister.
“The war,” said Ani. She felt a new urgency to convince them, and she watched Geric’s face anxiously as she spoke. “It is her idea, the war. Kildenree is not plotting. There is no conspiracy. She invented it all to hide her bloody deeds.”
“Sire,” said the prime minister.
“Please listen to me. Geric, you know me. You must believe that what I’m saying is true.”
The prime minister huffed. “This is obviously a Kildenrean spy sent to thwart our endeavors.”
“She is a fraud,” said Ani. “All she says is a lie.”
“Sire, don’t let this yellow-haired wench craft doubt on our war.”
“Enough!" said the king. His face was red, and his eyes were on Ani.
“Sire,” said Geric, putting a hand on his arm, “we should listen to her.”
At Geric’s words, Selia frowned.
“We have listened enough.” The king shook off his son. “This girl announces herself as Napralina, then she says she’s Anidori, then you call her Isi, then she’s Selia. It appears that she’s also that goose girl who curtsies so prettily and was found spying around the royal stables last winter. Whoever she is, she’d better decide quickly so we know what to engrave on her tombstone. I smell treason.” The king stomped down the stairs and stood before Ani, his eyes searching her face for answers. “Anidori, my dear.”
Ani opened her mouth to answer.
“Yes, my lord,” said Selia.
“What’s the punishment for treason in Kildenree?”
Banishment, thought Ani, but Selia will not say that, and she noted that Selia’s eyes sparkled while she thought.
“My lord,” said Selia, “it is a grave crime and thus a public castigation. To be placed naked in a barrel full of nails and dragged through the streets by four white horses, I believe.”
A phantom pain prickled down Ani’s skin. She could not speak.
“You believe?” said the king. “Be sure. We’ve heard enough. She’s not our citizen or our concern. I’m seriously considering leaving her in the dungeon here until this war is through and I’ve a free moment to deal with such nonsense.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that, Father,” said Geric. “No one has proved she’s done anything criminal.”
“It’s wartime, Geric,” said the king. “I don’t need proof.” He stood up and gestured to the guards to carry her away.
“A moment,” said Geric with a staying hand. “As you said, she isn’t your citizen or your concern. Leave the girl here with her compatriots, and together they can arrive at a suitable resolution. Maybe the reminder of what her punishment might be will encourage her to tell the truth.”
“Fine.” The king looked at Selia. “Send for my chief guard in an hour. If you haven’t convinced her to tell the truth, we’ll lock her up until we’ve time for this.”
Ani looked at the Kildenrean guards. They were all smiling.
“No, Geric, you don’t understand them,” Ani said. “Please don’t leave me.” She followed the king and Geric to the door. The guards held her back.
“It’s for the best, Isi,” said Geric. He studied the room a moment, his eyes scanning the faces of the Kildenreans, before frowning and turning away.
“No,” she said as Geric and the king exited the room. “Don’t leave me here with them. They are murderers.” She tried to pull away from the two guards holding her arms and let her shouts chase down the corridor after Geric. “Come back, please!”
All the king’s guard were gone but her two captors. She turned to them, clinging to their tunics.
“Don’t leave me,” she said, sobbing, panic wretching her gut. “Please. Just you two stay.”
Ani would not let go, so one pushed her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet as they exited, closed, and locked the door behind them. She ran to the door and banged with her fists, calling after the guards, begging them to come back, to just ask the king and he would give them permission to guard her, ask the prince and come back. After a while she stopped banging and tried to hear over the sound of her own heaving breath if there was anyone on the other side of the door. Nothing. Silence.
She stood against it for a few moments, her forehead pressed on the polished grain, breathing against its closeness, feeling her breath touch the wood and bounce back to her face, hot and quick. A cold chill raced down her back. Behind her, the room was still.
Chapter 21
The one door was closed, the few high windows shut out any wind. Ani closed her eyes. There was no air stirring the tiny hairs on the back of her hand or passing across her neck. She felt no movement of any kind, save her heartbeat in her fingertips pressed against the door—a fast beat, the kind drummers played for their sorcerers when the trick reached its climax. At last she turned around.
They were all watching her, carrion crows perched on a fence, Selia the wild hunting cat in yellow. Selia stretched out a finger and motioned Ani forward.
“Away from the door,” she said softly. “I would rather no one heard us just now.”
Ani turned and leaned her back fully against the hard wall, letting her body soak in that last feeling of safety. Selia spoke a word, and Redmon and Uril grabbed her elbows and carried her to the far end of the room. Ani cried out but doubted anyone in the corridor heard or cared. They dumped her on the dais steps.
Selia stood over her. Ani stared at the hem of Selia’s dress where the slant of light from a high window slashed it. The yellow was almost too bright to see, and she squinted, filtering the light through her lashes. She wondered if Selia would speak again and tangle her mind in words. She heard whispering and looked up. Ungolad stood close to Selia, his arm tight around her waist, his lips on hers.
“We have won,” Selia said, and kissed him again. Ungolad caught Ani’s eyes and leaned over her. One of his braids slapped her cheek.
“Little bird,” said Ungolad, “the king sounded convinced, hmm? Aren’t you proud of our Selia for thinking of such a diverting execution for you so quickly?”
“It seems you need the king’s army to kill me, as you were so easily overwhelmed by two sleeping geese.”
Ungolad pulled her arms and forced her to stand, and a thorny pain tore at her half-healed wound. She would not look at his eyes. She could feel the heat of his breath a
nd of his anger on her cheeks.
“Why do you not crawl, little princess? Why do you not beg?”
“I hear you have been hiding as a goose girl all these months,” said Selia. “A shame you had to stoop so low only to be killed now.”
“Not so low,” Ani said. “Where is Yulan?” She felt bitterness like a hot wind prickle the skin of her face, and she wanted to hurt Selia somehow, see her composure fail.
“Where is Yulan?” said Selia in a mocking voice. “You think to surprise me? We heard of your little stunt from Ishta.”
“Ishta,” said Ani. “Last I saw, Ishta was bleeding on your bedroom carpets, though perhaps his body has already been found.”
Selia seemed to see Ani’s dress for the first time and recognize it from her wardrobe. She covered her mouth and muffled a scream of frustration. Her face flashed and reminded Ani of the tantrums she threw as a little girl. She has not grown up, thought Ani, after all this time. But the girl calmed herself with eerie speed. She dropped her hands to lift Ani’s chin and look in her eyes, speaking softly.
“These months have been really, really wonderful for me, Crown Princess. They truly have. I want you to know that. I have always known what I wanted, since I was a little girl, and you helped me to achieve it.” She kissed Ani’s forehead and caressed her cheek with her thumb. “Thank you. And thank you for coming back. My one last wish, even when I thought you were dead in the woods, was to let you see me being you and doing it better.”
Ungolad watched Selia, her every word fascinating him. He caressed her arm and murmured something low. Selia’s attention did not waver from Ani.
“But unfortunately you did cause one little bother. The king is unquestioning, but my betrothed, my prince, seemed to have some doubts because of your convenient acquaintance. He seemed to resolve them there at the end, but I want to be sure. I spent months working to own his heart, and I don’t wish to go through that process again. So, dearest, here is the plan. When they return, you will confess to the king that you made it all up and in fact are my serving girl, and in turn, I will talk him down from the crime of treason. You will live. If you like, I will even let you return to your little goose herd. Agreed?”