“I must speak with her?”
“Yes, and it must be soon. You will meet her in the Throne Room. I will be there, along with Steldor and numerous other guards, but the message will come directly to you. I can’t say for certain what it will be, but I believe that the Cokyrian comes to arrange a time and place for negotiation. All you must do is hear the message—Steldor and I can take over from there. However, if you can manage more, it might be best if our response comes from you. If she suggests a meeting, and you decide to make answer, try to give us at least three days’ time. And Alera, this is key—demand that they bring Miranna.”
I dipped my head slightly, unable to even nod, and Cannan glanced at Destari for assistance. The Elite Guard came forward and put a supportive hand on my arm, steering me into the corridor after his captain. We went down the royal family’s private stairway rather than the Grand Staircase, since the Cokyrian envoy was waiting in the antechamber, and accessed the Throne Room through the King’s Drawing Room. The Hall of Kings was lined with eerily unmoving Palace Guards in their uniforms of royal blue and gold, with the customary arc of Elite Guards to the left and right of the thrones. I noticed London was among them, as always the maverick who did not wear the requisite royal-blue doublet, Cannan and the doctor finally having allowed him to venture forth from his sickroom.
I mounted the dais to stand in front of my throne, certain I was having some strange dream. Destari took up position at my left, and the captain, clad in his black leather military uniform, went to stand at the King’s right. Steldor, likewise clad in black and every bit as intimidating as his father, especially with the King’s crown upon his dark hair, gave me a supportive glance which did little to convince me that I was capable of doing what they wanted. I wished I were dressed more regally, or at least had my crown, but there had been no chance for preparation or protest.
I tried to repeat Cannan’s instructions in my head, at least until the antechamber doors were opened by two Palace Guards, and a petite yet somehow commanding woman walked forward. She was dressed in black, as was typical of Cokyrian soldiers, and carried a sheath at her hip and a bow absent of arrows—she had been disarmed before being permitted entry. Even as she walked, Cannan held up a hand and ordered a guard to remove the pendant from around her neck, which no doubt concealed a smaller blade—the Cokyrians tended to have clever and unusual weaponry. The woman’s golden hair was but slightly darker than her skin, falling in graceful waves to her shoulders, and reminding me with a stab of sorrow of my sister.
As the messenger approached, I steadied myself, matching my breathing with every other of her footfalls. She stopped perhaps ten feet in front of the dais and fell briefly to one knee, then stood, directing her attention to me without sparing a glance for the King. I pictured my father and the posture he had assumed when the High Priestess herself had come to the palace, and purposefully mimicked it, my expression stern, my eyes focused on the woman’s face.
“Your Majesty, Queen of Hytanica,” she began, voice clear and strong, her accent reminiscent of Narian’s. “I come to you with a message from my celebrated ruler, the High Priestess of Cokyri.”
She paused, and it took me a moment to realize that I needed to give permission for her to continue.
“Then share it as she bids you,” I said, hoping my voice would not betray my nervousness.
“The High Priestess will deign to hear your pleas for the release of your princess.”
She reached into a pouch at her side, prompting several guards to close ranks, but she held up a hand to assure us of her innocent intentions. Without a word, she withdrew a long lock of curly strawberry blond hair, dangling it high for all to see, and I struggled to contain my surging emotions.
“I bring this so that you may be certain she is in our hands. To ensure her safety, you must follow my instructions exactly. Five days hence, at high noon, the High Priestess will come to the bridge and await you with her guards. She will speak, as I have, only to the Queen. If the Queen does not attend, the High Priestess will not engage in negotiations.”
There was a low buzz in the hall following this, but Cannan silenced everyone with a dark glower. Steldor stiffened, but I did not pay him any heed. My mind was working quickly, recalling what Cannan had stressed as most important, and then the approach I should take came to me, along with a profound calmness.
“Very well—I will meet with your ruler. But I will not make the journey unless Princess Miranna does also.”
The Cokyrian’s lips pursed in displeasure.
“You imperil the princess’s life by playing these games,” she warned, squeezing the lock of hair to demonstrate the risk I was taking.
“Do not tell me I imperil her life! You have brought me no assurance that she is even alive as we speak—that strand of hair could have been taken from a corpse. I will not negotiate until I have been given surety that my sister lives.”
The messenger did not respond for an almost embarrassingly long time, and I wanted desperately to look to Cannan. I refrained, both because I did not want to appear indecisive and because I feared I would not see the reassurance I sought.
“Come to the bridge and attend the meeting, Queen of Hytanica,” the Cokyrian finally said, tone intractable. “I will speak to the High Priestess and inform her of your request.”
“See that she grants it.”
The woman scowled, then fell to one knee in a final bow before stalking from the hall.
Once the antechamber doors had closed behind her, I began to tremble, all my energy leaving at once. Steldor reached out a hand to steady me, and I sank onto my throne. London came to my side, placing a hand on my arm and giving me a triumphant smile. Cannan also came toward me, his eyebrows raised in a rare show of surprise, while Steldor took his seat, observing me with a peculiar expression.
“You handled yourself very well,” the captain praised. “I’m impressed.”
“Never a doubt,” London added, his pride evident.
Cannan glanced around the Throne Room at the dozens of gathered guards and seemed to decide that we needed a more private place in which to talk.
“We have much to discuss,” he said, motioning to the strategy room on the east side.
Cannan, London, Destari, Steldor, Casimir and I stepped down from the dais and moved toward the indicated room. Halias, who like London had been given leave to return to duty, took it upon himself to accompany us. Cannan also gestured for Galen, and the young Sergeant at Arms hastily complied. Once inside, everyone took a seat, and the captain closed the door to block out the babble of those still in the Hall of Kings. He came to the table, once more in charge.
“Now that we have our meeting, we must try to anticipate what the Cokyrians will demand and what concessions we would be willing to make. We must also decide who will represent us at the meeting.”
“Alera must go,” London declared, before anyone else could speak.
“No, she won’t,” Steldor interjected, an edge to his words that made me uncomfortable.
London did not appreciate the interruption and continued as though the King had not spoken, failing to recognize his sovereignty and giving him no opportunity to argue his point.
“It is imperative that we meet the Cokyrians’ most basic demand. The High Priestess is not bluffing. She will not engage us unless the Queen is present.”
“Do you truly believe she’ll jeopardize the negotiation because we do not comply with a request that we know does not come from her? The Cokyrians have respected our culture in the past and have never requested our Queen. There’s only one Cokyrian who would make a stipulation like this, and the High Priestess has good reason to want him happy.”
Steldor obviously believed that Narian had been the one behind the demand, and I experienced a strange flutter in my stomach at the thought that he would almost certainly be in attendance. While London had said I needed to attend, I suddenly wanted to attend. My thoughts and feelings about the young m
an were so confused, and seeing him would be a chance to find out who he had become. The fact that the request had been for the Queen meant he knew I was married, and I realized that Narian might likewise be confused about me.
I expected a hush following Steldor’s pointed comment, but Cannan did not allow it.
“It may be that the demand comes from Narian, but whether it does or does not, we must act in the way that will best ensure Miranna’s safety. We can’t take the chance that the High Priestess will be true to her word, especially when accommodating the request is relatively simple.”
“You’re right,” Steldor said through gritted teeth, making the decision as a king and not a husband. “She’ll have to come with us.”
Cannan, London and Destari shared a glance, which went unnoticed by Steldor, but I could sense a change in the mood in the room, like the men were bracing for a coming storm.
“It will only be necessary for one member of the royal family to attend. There is no reason to endanger both the King and the Queen.”
The room itself seemed to hold its breath in response to Cannan’s statement, waiting to see if the fiery temper for which Steldor was famous would erupt.
“I am going,” Steldor asserted, staring at Cannan in disbelief. “Father?” he prompted when the captain merely met his gaze, his opinion apparent.
“I’m not going,” the King concluded. He sat back, and I sensed he was trying not to show how much this development bothered him. As a military man, he wanted to be involved, but on some level, he knew Cannan was making sense.
The captain moved on, ready to leave this prickly issue behind.
“London will act as our negotiator at the meeting,” Cannan said, and I knew the deputy captain had already assumed this would be the case. “The issue that remains for us to consider is what the enemy may demand and what we would be willing to concede.”
“Nothing,” London immediately asserted. “We can give them nothing.”
“But what about Miranna?” I burst out, terrified that the others might agree with him. “We must do something to help her!”
London looked at me with unsettling sympathy before he turned back to the captain.
“Nothing we give will ensure Miranna’s return. The Cokyrians are ruthless—everyone here knows this. We could sacrifice our very kingdom, but once they had it, they would feel no obligation to uphold their side of the bargain. The Overlord would kill Miranna regardless and laugh at our folly.”
I gasped, horrified, but no one contradicted London’s assessment of the situation. It was Destari who finally replied.
“If the Cokyrians do indeed bring Miranna to the negotiation meeting, there’s no alternative but to try to rescue her.”
London nodded. “Yes. If she is brought to the meeting, we’re going to need a plan. Halias and I will undertake that task.”
The captain nodded, bringing the discussion to an unsettling close, at least from my point of view, for even the long-awaited negotiation with the Cokyrians seemed to bring my sister no closer to coming home.
I was excluded from the following meetings, which, I was informed, were strategy-focused. Though hope that my sister would return had dwindled, my faith in the men who were planning her rescue ironically had not. Cannan and his deputy captains could seemingly never fail.
During this time, Steldor was incredibly moody. He seemed to blame me for the fact that I had been requested at the negotiation. This probably stemmed, in his mind, from my great mistake—if I had not gotten involved with Narian, my presence would not have been demanded by the Cokyrians. His irritability over Kitten’s name, or lack thereof, also continued. All in all, I made a point of rolling my eyes at him when his back was turned, just to keep myself sane.
On the day before the scheduled talks with the enemy, in the early afternoon, London came to my drawing room and explained what my role would be.
“When we go to the bridge, you will be under heavy guard. You will come forward with Cannan, Destari and me, along with other select guards, but will not need to say anything. It must simply be known to the High Priestess that you are there. Then Destari will escort you back to your carriage, and Cannan and I will handle the rest.”
“I can ride a horse,” I said, thinking of the fierce, confident women of Cokyri and how they would view a queen who arrived in a carriage.
London ran a hand through his hair, considering me.
“My riding lessons have continued,” I murmured, anticipating some kind of rebuke. I was grateful when he merely shrugged.
“As long as you have the ability, we should take advantage of it, if only for convenience’s sake. Will you need a pair of breeches?”
“No, I have a pair that will work.”
“And do they fit?”
I suspected his mind had gone to the baggy breeches I had been wearing when he’d found me at Koranis’s estate.
“More or less,” I confessed with a blush. “They are borrowed from Baelic’s daughter Shaselle.”
“In any case, you may need some that will fit the occasion better,” he said with a cock of his eyebrow, having figured out who had been taking me riding. “I’ll send a seamstress to have you stand for measurements—I suspect they’ve never designed trousers for you before.”
The corners of my mouth lifted at the sparkle of humor in his eyes, but strangely it was then that I began to feel the anxiety that would plague me all night. London must have sensed my sudden unease, for his next words were more serious.
“You have already proven yourself a much stronger person than expected, Alera. I have absolute faith that you will represent us well.”
London’s words were heartening. He had confidence in me, and I had confidence in him. No matter how frightened and uncertain I was, London would not let me fail.
Deeming his job done, he gave a curt nod, then headed toward the door.
“I’ll tell Cannan about the breeches,” he tossed over his shoulder with a classic smirk before he disappeared from sight.
Almost within the hour, London returned with two seamstresses, who took my measurements and showed me some bolts of cloth. Having no opinion on the style or fabric of trousers, I left the decisions to them. I could tell that they found their task to be quite unorthodox; on the other hand, it presented an interesting challenge. When they had fussed with me to the extent necessary, they gathered up their materials and left, promising to deliver the breeches in the morning. London had waited, gazing politely out the window while the women worked with me.
“I saw Temerson today,” he stated casually enough as he turned to face me, but I knew his remark had not merely been conversational.
“How is he doing?” I asked, stung by my own selfishness, for I had not given a thought to the young man who had been—who was—courting my sister.
“He’s no worse than anyone else in this mess, but he’s no better, either. He’s terribly worried, but because he’s not in the palace, he’s received less information about the situation. I brought him up to date, for which he was very grateful.”
“Thank you for that.”
“I shall take my leave, then. Try to sleep. Tomorrow will be taxing.”
After London’s departure, I joined my parents in the dining room, but my churning stomach allowed me only a few bites of the evening’s meal. Steldor wasn’t present, but I was too distracted to wonder where he was or what he might be doing. When I at last retreated to my quarters, I saw Casimir standing by the door, a sure sign that the King was inside. I slipped into the parlor, wary of my unpredictable husband and not wanting to have an argument on this of all nights.
Steldor sat in one of the leather armchairs near the hearth with a mug of ale, looking as if he desired to be alone. Deciding it was best not to disturb him, I crossed the room with the intention of retiring and leaving him in peace, but he called to me.
“It will be dangerous tomorrow,” he said, staring into the embers of the fireplace. “It wasn’t just
because of Narian that I wanted to go in your stead.”
“I know. I’ll be careful.”
He turned to me, and I waited, thinking there was something more he wanted to say, but whatever it was, he couldn’t quite give it voice.
“Good night then,” he finally murmured, returning his attention to the fire.
“Good night,” I echoed, entering my bedroom with a prayer that the night would be followed by a good day.
CHAPTER 14
GAMBLE
I DID NOT FEEL TIRED THE NEXT DAY, DESPITE my restless night. I got out of bed as the sun was rising and paced my room, listening to the sounds of Steldor’s departure, knowing I had much time to squander. Sahdienne arrived an hour later with my breakfast, assisting me to dress in a simple skirt and blouse and fashioning my hair into a long braid down my back. The shirt of my choice was simple but elegant, and I planned to wear it along with a rich royal-blue-and-gold cloak embroidered with the crest of the royal family.
I dismissed my personal maid and moved into the parlor to pick at my food and wait for the servant who would deliver my breeches. After another hour, the girl brought the garment, and I replaced my skirt with the trousers, content with the fit and pleased with my overall appearance. I gave Kitten a quick hug before hurrying toward the door into the corridor, clutching my cloak. As I grasped the latch, I realized that I had forgotten something and reentered my bedroom to kneel before the trunk that sat against the far wall, slowly lifting the heavy lid. The official crown of the Queen rested before me atop a plush cushion, and I carefully picked it up, then went to the mirror and positioned it on my head for the first time since the coronation. Satisfied that I looked as a ruler should, I tore my eyes from my reflection and ventured into the corridor where Destari waited for me.