“I think I can tell the difference between a tragedy and a murder.”
“And my cousin!” Ghyaneth went on, even more desperately. “If she hears of this, she may well have him killed just so I am slain in retaliation and she takes the throne in my place!”
“That’s not my problem,” Zoe said. “You are my problem, and I have taken care of you.”
Nelson had started laughing. “Oh, that’s elegant, that is,” he said, slapping his hands together. “I swear, Zoe, you have your father’s sweela mind and your grandmother’s coru heart.”
Darien looked around the room. “Are we all done here? Is everyone satisfied with the parameters of our agreement?”
Rafe took a deep breath. It was probably his imagination that he could still feel Zoe’s fingertip pressed against his skull. “I am,” he said. “I will stay in Welce or know my life is forfeit.”
Ghyaneth glared at Rafe, at Darien, at Zoe, at everyone in the room. “I am not satisfied, no, it is impossible to be satisfied when dealing with savages,” he spat. “But I will happily depart this place, and I will leave my cousin in peace. If that’s what you’re waiting to hear from me. And because I am an honorable man, you have no cause to doubt my word.”
“I believe him,” Nelson declared. “He’s speaking the truth.”
“Good,” Darien said. “Prince Ghyaneth, we will see you back to your ship and guarantee you fair winds and favorable seas until you are well on your way.”
Darien helped Ghyaneth to his feet and the room quickly emptied out, only Josetta, Corene, and Rafe remaining behind. Rafe because he was too exhausted to move, and the princesses to keep him company.
“And that,” said Josetta, “is the reason some people are afraid of Zoe.”
“I see that now,” Rafe said. “I had no idea she would go to such extremes. Or do you think it was Darien’s idea?”
“Oh, no,” said Josetta. “That was all Zoe.”
“Well, I’m not sorry you’re staying in Welce, but are you sad you’re not going to Malinqua?” Corene asked him.
He managed a faint laugh. “I’m too tired and too unnerved and too beaten up—again—to figure out how I feel about anything,” he said. “I’ll miss my brother. I’ll miss the chance to get to know my grandmother better.”
“You’ll miss the chance to be a king,” Corene said. She glanced between him and Josetta. “Although—they might name Josetta queen of Welce. And you could marry her. And then you could be king. Unless she marries a lot of husbands, and then you could be one of the kings.”
“I don’t think I want a lot of husbands,” Josetta said.
“Well, do you want to marry Rafe?”
The question hung in the air a moment while Rafe and Josetta studied each other. He could feel himself grinning, and she couldn’t quite keep a smile off her lips.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “Maybe. But I am very, very, very glad he won’t be leaving for Malinqua.”
TWENTY-NINE
Josetta had a hard time releasing her hold on Rafe’s arm once they made it back to shore and the various heroes of the day began dispersing. Naturally, the regent and the primes needed to gather so they could discuss the ramifications of the afternoon’s events, but Rafe declined to join them.
“I would like to spend a little time saying my goodbyes to Steff. And I must tell my grandmother what occurred and why I can’t accompany her back to Malinqua,” he told Josetta gently. They were standing face-to-face at the edge of the pier, holding hands, trying to ignore the surrounding turmoil of the general deboarding. “She will be disappointed—and angry, I think, with both Zoe and Ghyaneth. I will have to convince her that I am not so sorry events have transpired this way.”
“I hope you’re not,” Josetta replied in a low voice. “In some ways you’ve become a prisoner of Welce, and I would understand if you didn’t like that! But I just don’t see—”
“I don’t see many other options that would keep me safe,” he interrupted. “And since this option keeps me near you—well—I am going to consider myself lucky.”
“Josetta!” Darien’s peremptory voice carried easily over the clangor of ships and men. “I would like you to join our conference!”
She kissed Rafe quickly on the mouth. “Come with your grandmother to the dinner tonight,” she said. “If you’re up to it. If not—I’ll come back to your lodgings as soon as I can. But it might be late.”
He touched his forehead briefly to hers and then released her. “I’ll be waiting.”
• • •
Corene had opted out of this particular meeting—Josetta wondered glumly how she’d managed that—but otherwise the usual group convened in one of Kayle’s beautifully decorated salons. Subtle scents sweetened the air; invisible chimes occasionally drifted across the room. The temperature was delightfully cool in contrast to the muggy heat outside, and the repast Kayle had grudgingly offered was bountiful and delicious.
The primes, the princess, and the regent gathered around a highly polished table of wood and inlaid gold and reviewed the events of the day. The general consensus was that they had escaped with less damage than they could have and that the future looked promising, if not entirely free of difficulties.
“Berringey might stop all trade with Welce,” Mirti warned. “And that will have an economic impact across the provinces.”
“I understand,” Darien said. “We have discussed opening new trade routes farther west. Now might be the time.”
“We can step up our exports to Malinqua, too,” Kayle said. “That horrible empress has already ordered three elaymotives and she’s very interested in my flying machines. I’m sure she’ll be willing to make other deals with us.”
“Will she?” Nelson asked. “She was disappointed that we didn’t fall in with her bridal plans.”
“She was, but she brings a grandson home with her, which should make her happy enough,” Darien answered. “We had some private talk last night and I came away believing she is generally pleased with the results of her visit here.”
Josetta happened to be glancing in Nelson’s direction, so she caught the sharp look he sent Mirti’s way. The hunti prime nodded, and Nelson sat up straighter in his chair.
“If we’re done rehashing Malinqua and Berringey, I suggest we return to the most pressing issue of Welce,” Nelson said. “The succession.”
Kayle threw his hands in the air. “Will we never be done with that topic? First we’re to have a queen. Then, no, we’re to throw out the whole government and start over again. I don’t care. Let’s just settle it.”
“We have been a monarchy too long to throw it aside because one generation is problematic,” Mirti said gravely.
“Kayle’s right. We discussed all this,” Zoe said impatiently. “We’ve managed just fine for the past seven years, when we didn’t have a king at all.”
“That’s just it. We did,” Nelson said. “We just didn’t realize it.”
“But we didn’t have a king,” Kayle protested. “It was Darien acting on Vernon’s behalf and—oh. Darien! Oh, of course, I see that now. You want to name him king.” He nodded.
It was the first time Josetta had ever seen Darien taken wholly by surprise. “You what? Nelson, what nonsense is this?”
“It’s hardly nonsense,” the sweela prime said. He was grinning widely. “You were the de facto ruler during the last two years of Vernon’s life and the first five years of Odelia’s. I’ll tell you, watching you negotiate with Filomara and Ghyaneth gave me a whole new appreciation for your intelligence. Are you sure you aren’t part sweela?”
“Hunti through and through,” Darien snapped. “And this is preposterous.”
“I agree with Nelson,” Mirti said. “You possess every skill a king needs and you’ve had years of experience on the job. You’ve treated with foreign nati
ons, kept civil order, helped the economy flourish—and produced an heir.”
At this point in the conversation, Zoe started laughing uncontrollably. Josetta felt a smile curve her own lips; oh, this would be so much better than being named queen herself!
Darien still appeared to be shocked. “You cannot just—pick a man at random and stick him on the throne,” he said. “What about all the posturing of the past nineday? Vernon’s heritage and all that! How will you get around the requirements of blood?”
“Well, all you really have to do is persuade the primes to ratify you, and that should be easy enough,” Mirti retorted. “You come from one of the Five Families and your wife comes from two of them, so your daughter has the blood of three primes running in her veins. If we can convince Kayle and Taro—”
“I’m convinced!” Kayle exclaimed. “If that means we’re done with conversations about the crown, I’m happy to name anybody king.”
“That’s hardly civic minded,” Darien retorted.
“Taro might be harder to win over, though,” Nelson said thoughtfully.
Zoe had dropped her head to her hands, but now she looked up, showing them a face suffused with merriment. “Oh, surely we can find a way to prove Frothen blood runs in Darien’s veins!” she cried. “I’m convinced I’ve noticed it in the past. I just wasn’t paying attention.”
Darien smiled at her reluctantly. “Maybe if we go back far enough on the genealogy charts—”
“All the Five Families are related,” Nelson said firmly. “Somewhere there will be a convenient bloodline.”
“Or marry Celia off to someone who’s related to both the Dochenzas and the Frothens,” Josetta suggested. “And her son or daughter will be related to all the primes.”
“Excellent plan!” Nelson exclaimed, beaming at her. “Kayle, you and Taro get some heirs together and start making babies.”
“I was joking,” Josetta said. “Celia might want to find her own husband.”
“It doesn’t matter who Celia wants to marry because she’s not going to be heir to the throne,” Darien said firmly.
“Oh, I think she will,” Nelson said. “There might be a few details to clear up—”
“A few!” Zoe wailed, still laughing. “Here’s one you haven’t thought of! Whoever marries the king or queen gives up all their own property rights. But I’m prime and I can’t give up my property. And if my daughter is queen, she can’t be prime after me—”
“Well, you can have another child, can’t you?” Kayle said. “Or three or five or eight.”
“Yes, of course, but the land—”
“We will have to figure out how to account for the property,” Mirti admitted. “The laws were written to prevent the crown from gathering too much power—to keep a king from marrying all the primes, for instance, and controlling the elements as well as the throne. But we can come up with some kind of amendment. Perhaps we simply don’t allow Zoe to be named queen. These are our laws, after all. They are here to serve our purposes.”
“But—” Zoe started.
“As Nelson said, there will be many details to take care of,” Mirti interrupted. “But the solution itself feels right. It feels solid. I vote in favor of Darien Serlast as king.”
“As do I,” Nelson said immediately. “Kayle?”
“I already said I was in favor of it! Yes, yes, I say yes! But what about Zoe?”
Everyone in the room looked at Zoe, who was still trying to compose herself. Josetta saw her pat her cheeks and bite her lips before she reached over to take Darien’s hand.
“The day I met you, you invited me to come with you to Chialto to marry the king,” she said, keeping her voice reasonably steady. She was still smiling, but the expression had grown tender instead of hysterical. “I knew fairly quickly that I didn’t want to marry Vernon—but I did want to marry you. As coru prime, I agree with the others that you would make a splendid king. I vote in favor of Darien Serlast, too.”
• • •
After the day’s exhausting events, no one was particularly interested in one last lavish state dinner, but no one wanted to send Filomara off without a formal farewell. So they compromised with a modest buffet in one of Kayle’s smaller dining rooms, and anyone who wanted a chance to say goodbye to the Malinqua contingent had a chance to do so.
Rafe sent his regrets, but Steff was there. He stuck close to his grandmother all night and seemed to be listening carefully whenever Darien or one of the primes stopped to talk to her. Josetta thought he might be practicing to be a prince, but he seemed to be enjoying the apprenticeship. It took her a moment to identify what seemed different about him, but eventually she realized that he was dressed in Malinqua clothing, more fitted and formal than the flowing tunics and trousers the Welchins wore. It made him seem taller and older somehow.
“I’ll miss Steff, won’t you?” Josetta said to Corene as the two of them sat together at the end of the table and finished their meals.
Corene lifted her eyes and studied the young man across the room. “I’m not sure I know him well enough to miss him.”
“Really? I’m surprised. I thought you liked him.”
Corene shrugged. “I’d miss Rafe. I know him better.”
“I wonder how Steff feels knowing that he might never see his brother or his father again.”
“Well, of course he can see them,” Corene said irritably. “He just has to come back here for visits. And Bors can sail out to Malinqua anytime he wants. It’s Steff’s own fault if he gets so caught up in his new life that he forgets his old one.”
Corene seemed determined to be more than ordinarily contrary, which made Josetta think her first guess was right. Corene liked Steff more than she wanted to admit. Josetta changed the subject. “Have you talked to your father since the meeting with the primes? Has he gotten over the shock of being nominated king?”
Corene’s expression grew even more remote, and Josetta wondered what was wrong now. “Not yet, but I’m sure he’ll get used to the idea quickly enough. It only makes sense, since, of course, he’ll make an excellent king.”
“And he’s already been doing the job for seven years.”
“And he’s already produced one heir,” Corene said with heavy emphasis.
Which was when Josetta figured it out. “Wait. Of course. The primes didn’t even think of that! Darien has two daughters! That makes him an even better prospect!”
Corene’s dark eyes were unreadable; she seemed to be struggling to speak in a light voice. “It doesn’t matter if my pretend father or my real father is sitting on the throne, no one seems to think I should be the next one in line,” she said.
“I think Nelson and Mirti were just so focused on the fact that Celia is related to three primes,” Josetta said awkwardly. “They weren’t thinking about Celia so much as the bloodlines.”
“And my blood is always wrong.”
“Corene—”
Corene stood up abruptly. “It’s all right. I’m getting used to being the one nobody ever remembers.”
Josetta jumped to her feet and caught Corene’s arm. “I remember you. You’re my sister. You’re my closest friend in the world.”
Corene wrenched away and opened her mouth as if to spit out a recrimination, but then she hesitated, and the bitter line of her mouth softened. “And you’re the best sister I could have ever had,” she said. “I’d miss you if you sailed hundreds of miles away.” She leaned forward to kiss Josetta on the cheek, then practically ran from the table, through the room, and out the door.
Josetta stared after her, then wended her way to Zoe’s side. “I think you should check on Corene when you get a chance. She seems to be having a rough day.”
“It’s been a strange one for all of us,” Zoe agreed. “I, for one, am ready for it to be over.”
“Well, I’m going to mak
e my goodbyes to Filomara and leave,” Josetta said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Darien wants to leave for Chialto no later than noon. We’ll send the elaymotive to pick you up.”
“Oh no,” Josetta said, smiling. “I’m not going back to Darien’s house. I’m heading to the shelter. And to my own life. And not even Darien will be able to change my mind.”
When Josetta presented herself to Filomara, the empress was passably gracious and claimed she had enjoyed getting to know her. “Come visit Malinqua sometime,” Filomara invited, keeping Josetta’s hand in hers for a moment. “You’d like it, I think.”
“Perhaps I will,” Josetta said.
“I’ll introduce you to all my nephews,” the empress said with a speculative glance. “Maybe you’d like one of them more than you expect.”
“I like your grandson Lerafi,” Josetta said. “Is that good enough for you?”
Filomara laughed and dropped her hand. “Maybe,” she said.
Josetta turned to Steff, standing in Filomara’s shadow. “I hate to see you go, but I wish you all the best in your new life,” she said, giving him a hug. “Come visit us often.”
“I’ll try,” he said. “Take care of Rafe.”
“I’ll try.”
Josetta knew she should make a quick round of the room, bid farewell to Darien and the primes, but she simply couldn’t stand any more polite conversation. She slipped out of the room and through the cool high-ceilinged corridors of Kayle’s house, stepping out the front door into night air that was still dense and sticky with heat. Instantly, Foley was at her side.
“Heading back to the lodgings?” he asked. “Do you want to walk or shall I find an elaymotive?”
“It’s not that far. Let’s walk.”
They had traveled about five blocks in companionable silence when she realized Foley was her only guard. “Did Darien send Caze and Sorbin and the others ahead with Rafe, then? Or—”
“He’s decided the prince is safe,” Foley confirmed. “The Berringese boats sailed out of the harbor as soon as the tide was favorable, and the regent truly believes Ghyaneth will abide by his promise.”