“I do!” I hurry to say. “But…” What can I say? I’m not sure there’s ever going to be a good enough reason for Saber.
He meets my eyes for a moment, then looks away.
“Even if I wanted to continue selling long-term, which I don’t,” I add for Saber’s benefit, but perhaps also to hear the words come out of my own mouth, “I can’t. My business model isn’t sustainable,” I say. “It was never supposed to be sustainable. The whole operation is held together with resin and twine. Eventually customers are going to run out of jewelry, and the CFO will have to hike the credit exchange rate and…and—” I breathe deeply, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth. “The nurse at the clinic told me my father’s brain has been damaged.”
Saber stands straight, away from the wall. “Does she know about the patches?”
I shake my head. “She noted the residue, but I said they were nicotine patches.” I close my eyes and give voice to my greatest fear. “Is that going to happen more, or…?”
This time when I turn my face up to Saber, he’s glaring at the wall over my shoulder, looking both angry and guilty. “It’s probably more related to dosage,” he says softly, and I remember that most of my father’s drug habit was foisted on him not by me but by Saber. Against Saber’s will, but by him nonetheless. I wish I hadn’t said anything. “There were times when I wasn’t convinced he’d be alive when I got here for a delivery.”
It’s odd to remember that Saber had a life before me, but he was involved with my father for almost two months before we met.
“I don’t blame you,” I say genially. “I don’t blame you for anything Reginald ever makes you do.”
“Doesn’t make it feel any better when I’m doing it,” he says tightly, and I clamp my mouth shut. He sighs. “Sorry, that’s not the point. You have to decide what to do with this.” He nudges the box with his foot.
“We,” I correct.
“You,” he sends right back. “In the end, I’m still Reginald’s man.”
He’s right. He can’t be caught discouraging me. He tried as best he could, in the beginning, and I mistook his warnings for contempt. Fleetingly I wonder what sort of punishment he might have faced, had I actually backed out then.
My feet start to lose feeling from the way I’m crouching, so I flop backward onto the ground, legs sticking straight out in front of me in possibly the least graceful pose I’ve adopted in years. Saber cuts off a bark of a laugh, and I smile up at him despite the feeling that my stays are cutting me in two.
“I’m tired,” I protest. Then add, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“No, no you didn’t,” he murmurs.
But the box won’t be ignored, though staring at it silently yields no answers. “When I started, I was so afraid that Justin would kill me. And I was angry,” I say, looking up as Saber joins me on the floor, sitting cross-legged. “I was so sure of what I’d seen. I wanted him to pay.”
“You were so sure? The woman he strangled? Have you changed your mind?”
My shoulders slump and I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t know. He’s told me multiple times that it was an accident and, to be honest, it kind of grosses me out to even think about it. But I did surprise him when I dropped that platter.”
Saber lets me sit in silence, contemplating this. Contemplating just how guilty I truly am, perhaps.
“Regardless, the danger is different now. I can’t imagine myself safe from Justin,” I add darkly. “But by making me his Queen, he’s made me far more difficult to simply remove. I’m not even certain he realizes it. Before, I justified everything I did because I was afraid for my life, or the lives of other possible victims. Now?” I flutter my hand at the box. “Now I’m damned if I continue and damned if I quit.” Reginald’s words from so very long ago echo through my head: If you truly think your pathetic life is worth five million euros…I don’t know what price tag I’d put on my life, but I’ve already cost Molli everything.
She can’t have died for nothing.
“Would it be so awful to stop? You could look at this entirely differently. That your confirmed role as Queen means you can’t dabble in this sort of stuff anymore.” Saber looks at me, and his eyes are filled with desperation, begging me to make the right choice this time. “You don’t need the money anymore.”
“I can’t simply stop,” I say bleakly, the truth jarring straight down my spine. “Going on a little longer feels somehow less awful than having done everything for nothing.”
“That’s rationalization and you know it.”
“If I stop all at once, my customers will go into withdrawal and it’ll be obvious what’s been happening,” I argue. “I can claim to have been duped by my supplier, but I’m not confident in the outcome.”
“And what would they do? Dethrone you?”
I remain silent. There would be social consequences, certainly. But I can’t tell Saber the real reason I can’t stop yet: if I quit selling Glitter, Reginald will take Saber back.
A little longer. That’s all I need.
“Come on, Dani,” he whispers. “Be better than this.”
I curl up, resting my arms and head on my popped-up knees. “I used to think I was a decent person. I’m not sure I am anymore. No, don’t,” I rush to say before Saber can protest. Before I can find out if he was going to protest. “I thought that because I was doing this for good reasons, I could do it without becoming…tainted. But I have. It’s like blackest ink, and you can’t touch it without getting stained. At this point, I’m mostly afraid of how much worse it will get before I can finally be through.”
Saber says nothing, just reaches over to run his fingers along my neck, massaging gently.
“So I…keep going,” I say, and his fingers tense on my neck. “But I try to limit my damage. I don’t take new customers, and I start to spread the word that I’ve reached maximum production capacity. When it’s gone, it’s gone.”
“You’ll be stampeded every time you get a delivery if you say that. Just a warning.” Saber’s tone is sharp, and frustration pours from him like waves.
I hang my head. “I don’t know what else to do. If I can’t stop, at least I can keep it from growing. Maybe it’ll help some of the users cut back,” I add in a mumble, not really trying to disguise my wishful thinking.
“Maybe.”
“And I can sell less and less product each week. Force people to use it more sparingly. I don’t know that there’s a better way.”
Saber nods, acceptance rather than agreement. “Let’s be off, then,” he says, offering both hands to pull me up. “It is your day to be seen.”
“It’s funny,” I say, looking down at the white box. “I got into this mess to take control of a fate that was galloping off without me. Now I’m less in charge than ever.”
Saber reaches an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me as he places a kiss on my brow. “I know. But let’s be honest; it’s not funny at all.”
SABER FOLLOWS DOCILELY behind me, playing his role to the hilt as I wander up and down the hallways of the palace, to the accompaniment of murmurs and even a few calls of “Your Majesty!” The tourists, of course, not the residents. I’m no longer permitted to escape the palace on Wednesdays, not really. I can take a stroll outside, but I may no longer flee far into the gardens for hours at a time to escape the gawking of our visitors. I am to be gawked at. And this first Wednesday, everyone wants to see me.
Everywhere I go, people drop into low bows and curtsies. I barely catch sight of someone’s face before it turns toward the floor. No one talks to me, no comforting smiles. I’m lonely. How wrong that feels when I’m surrounded by dozens of people at any given moment. Saber’s presence helps, but I can’t even touch him lest I betray our relationship.
Lady Mei joins me and links our arms as I’m traversing through the public salons, and a smile curls on my lips. I’
m more glad of her company than I expected.
“I heard you have new Glitter—is it true?” she asks, and my smile melts away. Of course. “I have mine from this morning, but Kata sent me for some for her. I paid Lady Sesay already.”
“Certainly,” I say distractedly, blinking away the sudden sting of tears as I hand her some eye shadow. “Look, new colors,” I add, then want to clamp my hand over my mouth. I’m trying to breed less excitement over the makeup, not more.
“Oooh, I love this,” Lady Mei says, glancing down before slipping the canister into a pocket. “Can I get one of these for my payment next week?”
“Certainly,” I say with a tight smile. Lady Mei squeezes my hand before spinning off to join her cousin.
Lord Aaron sidles up beside me and places my hand atop his arm, saying nothing—he’s a dark cloud of moodiness by my side, but I find my fingers squeezing his arm anyway. Dark cloud, yes. But he’s my dark cloud.
“How’s your friend?” I whisper, darting a glance back at Saber, still trailing behind me.
Since the failed coup there’s a tense awkwardness between the major players in each faction, and Lord Aaron is caught in the middle. I haven’t heard from him, but whether that’s a matter of melancholy or politics, I can’t yet guess. Sir Spencer usually joins the younger crowd for games in one of the salons where he and Lord Aaron can make secret puppy eyes at each other, but I haven’t seen him all day. I suppose the only thing worse than being the puppet leader of a hostile corporate takeover is being the puppet leader of a failed corporate takeover.
Lord Aaron’s smile wavers for only a moment, but I catch it. “Afraid,” he says bluntly. “Your lord husband hasn’t rained down any consequences yet, but you know he will.”
“I can speak to the King,” I offer, even though the thought of going to the King and pleading for his enemy fills me with aching trepidation.
“I’ll pass along the offer,” Lord Aaron says in a whisper. He hesitates. “Until then, perhaps it’s best you know that Lady Cyn is decked out in a rather garish display of finery and is making sure her supposedly private conversations are being overheard by every tourist in the Hall of Mirrors.”
I close my eyes and take a slow count of five before whispering, “She means nothing—her power disappeared the moment His Royal Husbandness said I do.”
“You truly think that?”
I turn, facing him. “I think that because it’s true.”
Lord Aaron isn’t known for being hedgy, so when he hesitates, I give him a pointed look and fist one hand on my hip until he relents. “If it were anyone other than her, and if His Majesty were actually treating you like the Queen, it wouldn’t matter. But neither of those is the case.”
My hand falls from my hip, and I don’t catch my dropped jaw for several seconds. “What do you mean, he isn’t treating me like the Queen? I’ve been doing the lever since before we were wed! If this is about—” I break off and draw him closer, strolling over to an empty alcove. “If this is about the fact that we haven’t consummated our marriage, I hardly think that applies, and moreover—”
“That’s not what it’s about at all, Dani. Lud, what a turncoat you must think me to be.”
I squeeze his arm. “Not in the least, hence my surprise.”
His feathers resettle, and I try to get my own to do the same. I have few enough allies these days; I can’t afford to jump down the throats of the ones who remain. “Who is the most famous royal member of the court of Versailles ever?” he asks.
“Marie-Antoinette, I imagine.”
“Precisely. The Queen. And why, pray tell? Why not the King, who built this place to begin with?”
“Because they chopped off her head?”
“Untrue.” He hesitates. “Not the head-chopping part, but I completely disagree that it’s the reason she’s so famous. Try again.”
I think about my answer as my eyes sweep along the line of rooms, keeping an eye on Saber as he’s summoned from group to group, to hand out Glitter. “She was beautiful. And scandalous.”
“And she didn’t hide it. Never did anyone try to take her place. Why? Because it was impossible. She shone at every moment—she personally made certain of that. No one could have looked into a crowded room and not known which lady was the Queen.” He pauses until I give him my full attention. “If Jeanne Poisson had been around one generation later and had gone for Marie’s husband instead of her father-in-law, no one in history would have even heard of the infamous Madame de Pompadour. Why? Because no one—not even that famous mistress—could compete with Marie-Antoinette.”
I know my face is pale, even though I’m quite certain frightening me wasn’t the intention of Lord Aaron’s rousing speech.
“Lady Cyn wants to be the Madame de Pompadour of your court. You can step down and let her, or you can be Marie-Antoinette.”
“I don’t want to be here at all,” I say in a small voice.
Lord Aaron narrows his eyes, far more seriously than I’m accustomed to. “There was a time when I didn’t want to be here either. But despite all our efforts, here we both are. We have to watch out for each other and for ourselves.”
I look down at the carpet, despising the truth.
“You’ve had a setback; I’ll not deny it. If you’re still looking for a graceful exit from the Palace of Versailles—and it sounds like you are—I can promise you’ll never get one without power in court. If you lose that power before it’s even truly yours, you’ll never get it back. That’s what will happen if you let Lady Cyn eclipse you, especially in these honeymoon days of your reign.”
It’s all too easy to hate Lady Cyn for everything she’s done in her efforts to outshine me over the years. When I had no power to speak of. I hate the idea of her succeeding at anything, much less beating me. But she’s been playing a completely different game all along—she, the game of court intrigue, of hierarchy and influence, and I, the game of commerce and misdirection. I admit, I’d thought myself rid of her. But something else he said catches my attention. “My reign?”
“Your reign,” he repeats. “Through all the drama, I think you’ve forgotten that you’re not simply an unhappy seventeen-year-old newlywed. You’re the joint ruler of a small, fabulously wealthy country. You are the Queen, Danica.”
It’s splendidly obvious, of course, but Lord Aaron is correct—I haven’t thought of it in quite that way.
“You have rights. You have privileges.” He pauses, then rushes on. “At the very least you’re owed the use of the crown jewels. And you should be wearing some every time you step out of your boudoir.”
I very nearly fall off my heels. “Crown jewels? Lord Aaron, what in the world is Lady Cyn discussing?”
He sighs dramatically. “She’s trotted herself out decked in likely every piece of jewelry His Highness has ever gifted her, and is acting as though they were presented to her only in the last few days. I happen to know the bracelet she’s wearing was given at her coming out as a generic royal gift. I remember seeing one like it in your own collection.”
I refuse to let aggravation at him show on my face, but I do raise one eyebrow. “Is this all truly about Lady Cyn out-sparkling me?”
“You’ve been so focused on amassing euros that you’ve forgotten the most important currency in Versailles isn’t euros. And it isn’t Sonoman credits, either.”
“It’s the favor of the King,” I say, hating the way his argument is starting to gel.
“His, or the proxy favor of those who have it. And if she’s the lady who has the King’s favor, then who doesn’t?”
Ice runs through my veins. “Me.”
“Does history even remember Jane Shore, Madame du Barry, Elizabeth Blount, Louise de La Vallière? No. The only mistresses anyone remembers are the ones who became Queen.” He pauses. “Or the ones to whom a timid Queen yielded her power.”
“I don?
??t care about being remembered. I don’t want to be remembered.”
He’s already shaking his head. “Don’t cede your power—”
“I don’t care about power!” I snap in a rigid whisper.
“I know you’re angry with the King, but Danica, what’s the last thing Lady Cyn did to you, purely from spite?”
The blood drains from my face. “She told the King that Saber was carrying drugs.” Getting Saber back softened my memory. I can’t afford to be soft anymore.
“And the fallout from that? He could have died, Dani. And what if they’d found them on you? It would have blown everything. In fact, Lady Cyn’s single word in the King’s ear could have destroyed your entire escape before Reginald had a chance to do it himself, and thrown you in jail instead of Saber.”
My heart races as I connect more dots. If Saber hadn’t been imprisoned, Lord Aaron would have hacked Saber’s and my way out of the palace instead of getting me into the prison. Ultimately, if Lady Cyn hadn’t tattled on Saber, he and I would have escaped the night before the wedding.
In the end, Reginald still betrayed me, but without that variable, Lady Cyn could have single-handedly toppled everything I’d worked for.
“Unintended consequences, perhaps,” Lord Aaron continues when I say nothing. “But imagine what she could do if she were trying to truly ruin you instead of just get the King back. Now imagine she has the power of the court behind her.”
“It would be a disaster,” I whisper.
“Besides,” Lord Aaron says with a grin, “isn’t there some part of you that wants a little revenge for years of bullying?”
Not caving to his humor, I sigh and lean against a pillar. “I’m too young for this.”
“Marie-Antoinette was only fourteen when she wed. Queen Victoria of England was your age.”
I roll my eyes up to meet his. “I wasn’t being literal. Can’t I whine without critique?”
“Only if you’re going to do something about it.”