Against the Reign Page 5

  To my great relief, the court members leave with Ferrant. I mouth a thank you to him and he bows his head to me before he leaves. Ward is beside me.

  “That was….odd,” he says.

  “But lucky for me. I’ll worry about the court tomorrow. Where is Marguerite?”

  “She had to check on Monroe. She’ll be back.” Ward glances behind him and grins. “She is quite a good dancer.”

  I look at him sideways, trying to hide my smile. “Ward? Are you blushing?”

  “No! I’m hot from the dancing!” he protests loudly, putting his hands on his cheeks. I don’t believe him, but I let it slide. I can see Vian at the table and he still looks miserable.

  “I’m going to get my brother. Look around and see if Liam is here,” I say.

  “Invited the buffoon did you?” Ward throws the same knowing smile to me I was just giving to him.

  “Shut up and find him!” I shove him aside. His laugh follows him as he disappears into the crowd. I go to Vian.

  “Little brother! You haven’t danced all evening. Nor have you touched your food.” I note the still-full plate in front of him.

  “I don’t feel like doing either,” he says, his eyes down. I lower my enthusiasm.

  “Come on, Vian. I know things have been dark, but they don’t have to be. I’m the queen now! This castle will be much more fun with me taking over. Don’t you think?” The look in his eyes when he finally looks at me sends a shiver through me.

  “Ginny, you’re forgetting who you are. You are the queen. The queen of a kingdom that’s in danger. Our parents are dead, Ginny. You should be looking for those who are responsible.”

  “We are, Vian. Ferrant is organizing the army and tightening security. We’ll take care of that. But tonight we can still have fun.”

  “What about today, Ginny? You deliberately ignored several people who needed your time. The mayor of Lanvista is here, for example. He came here to discuss the taxes in his town.”

  So that’s the bad behavior the court was complaining about. Still, I can’t help but to grunt. “What do I know about the taxes in Lanvista, Vian?”

  “Then you ask questions, Ginny! Lanvista underpaid their taxes several years ago and were punished with higher rates. They have more than paid their dues, yet they are still being highly taxed. Residents are moving to other towns. Pretty soon crime will go up and they will become another Thumbstole.” Vian shakes his head. “You must remove their punishment.”

  I sigh heavily. “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, okay? Come on, Vian. Let’s have fun tonight.”

  Despite my pleading eyes, he rises and steps away. “I’m going to retire. Good night, Ginny.”

  My heart sinks as I watch him leave the room. I slump against the table and down a glass of wine, wishing things were different. Being queen isn’t nearly as much fun when Vian is upset. Especially when he’s upset with me.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “What?” I snap, but then brighten when I see the messenger from this morning. “Oh, yes! Did you reach Liam?”

  “Yes.” He bows and hands over a letter. “He sent me back with this. I apologize for the delay.”

  “Fine. Go and enjoy yourself,” I tell him. Looking somewhat surprised, he bows again and hurries away. Servants usually don’t join in royal parties, but I’m not partial.

  I unroll the parchment and read quietly to myself, “To the Queen of Newrock, whom I know as Ginny: I am sick to hear of the murder of your parents. Having been in your place, I know what you are feeling right now. I must warn you: there is something evil in the kingdoms and I vow to find out what it is and put a stop to it immediately. No one else should have to go through this.

  “Ginny, I cannot come to see you now. My uncle has informed me that I am to be wed. To whom he has not revealed, out of safety for our kingdoms. But this means that I, too, will be taking the throne soon. How in an instant our lives change. Please be careful, Ginny.”

  A numbness washes over me for the second time in the last few days. I put the letter down so I can drink another cup, the liquid settling in a heavy sense of hopelessness. When I slam the cup down and lean my head on my hand, my eye catches something on the letter. Next to my name in the last line is what I thought was an ink smudge. But I see now that something was written and then scratched out. Putting my face right up to it, I can see what the word was.

  There, the line used to read, “Please be careful, my Ginny.”

  “I don’t see him anywhere. What’s that?” Ward and Marguerite are back. My frown deepens.

  “Liam isn’t here. He’s getting married,” I state simply.

  “Tonight?” Ward asks, a look of shock on both their faces.

  “Not tonight, but soon. A political marriage it seems.”

  “Then your hunch may have been right,” Marguerite says. “Windem has a princess. I don’t know anything about her. She could be five years old, for all I know. But what if she’s of age? If Windem and Etigan have formed a marriage alliance….”

  She doesn’t need to finish. If they have formed a marriage alliance, Newrock is doomed. And no doubt Liam’s uncle wouldn’t tell him who he’s wedding until it’s too late to change it. He most likely knows we’re friends. Liam is right.

  There is something evil in the kingdoms.

  Eleven

  The party lasts well into the night and by morning Della can do nothing to wake me. At least for a while I was able to escape feeling anything, but everything comes back in the morning with a pounding headache. The crown she places on my head feels like it’s pushing me down, and I suddenly realize escaping it won’t be as easy as downing a cup of wine.

  When she finally leaves I reread the parchment from Liam. I can’t decide what to do with this new information. Although I could easily call a meeting with the court, something is nagging at me not to. I need someone I trust completely, and I can only think of one person. I leave my room and hurry to the infirmary.

  Joannes, our castle’s resident physician, bows when I enter. “How are you doing, Your Majesty?”

  “Fine. How is Rayner?”

  “Doing better. His wounds weren’t deep and he’ll recover. The spirit, however, will take more time.”

  I nod and slowly approach the bed. Rayner is propped half-way up and his eyes are closed. At first I think to leave; I don’t want to wake him. But his eyes open when I approach and immediately glisten. Then a startled look, and he attempts to bow his head.

  “Don’t! Please, don’t hurt yourself!” I command and he stops.

  “I shouldn’t be here, Your Majesty.” His voice trembles, thick with sadness. “I vowed to give my life for the king. I failed him. I failed the crown. I was knocked unconscious with the first blow and when I came to, it was too late.” He chokes and I shake my head.

  “You didn’t fail us. It’s….” I can’t finish my sentence. It’s what? Okay? Going to get better? There aren’t words for grief. I clear my throat and continue. “What did you see when you came to?”

  “The carriage was on fire. All the bodies were burned. It was the sword in my shoulder that woke me. They put me on one of the horses to return with the crowns.” The words fall out his mouth like bile and he grimaces.

  “Who were they?”

  “I don’t know them. But they were dressed in Windem’s colors.”

  I imagine the maroon-coated soldiers and frown. “We’ve been speculating on motive.”

  “So have I. But I have come up with nothing. Windem had no motive to kill your parents.”

  “What about land?”

  “Windem has no need of land. Their king has it in abundance. He has need of nothing. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Is the princess of Windem of age?”

  “She is older than you, Your Highness.”

  I inform him of the message from Liam. “Do you think they could be forming an alliance?”

  “It sounds plausible. But there is one big stone in that path: the
king of Windem has never been friendly with the king of Etigan, neither the former king nor the present. I can’t see him handing over his daughter, unless some credible threat has been made. And Etigan doesn’t have the manpower to defeat Windem in battle.”

  “Something is wrong,” I say quietly.

  “It appears so. And I fear for the safety of you and Vian.” Rayner winces and his eyes close, his body pressing against the bed. I can see Joannes hovering, meaning I should leave. I speak quickly.

  “I suggested talking to Windem. I want to speak with them face-to-face.”

  “That could be very dangerous,” Rayner says, his eyes reopening slowly. “But then again, it could solve everything.”

  “It’s a chance I have to take. Better me in the fire than the entire kingdom.” I surprise myself with my own words. Did I really just say that? But then I rethink it: better me than Vian is what I meant to say. Still, I can tell my words brighten Rayner’s mood.

  “Has a message been sent?”

  “Ferrant was going to take care of it. I’ll check.”

  “Let me write it, Your Majesty. I will make sure the message is just right, if Ferrant has not already.”

  I consider this. “Yes, I think you should. But it may be too late. I’ll check with Ferrant and let you know. Rest, Rayner, and get well. I need your help.”

  I leave him to Joannes. As I make my way through the halls, my head filled with mixed thoughts, a guard approaches me and bows low.

  “Your Majesty, I have a matter you must settle.”

  “Go on.”

  “The man we apprehended at the ceremony—he is being held in our dungeon. What punishment do you seek for him?”

  “Hassal?” I ask, a mix of surprise and joy running through me. “You have him here?”

  “Yes, awaiting your decision, Your Majesty.”

  “Perfect.” I can’t help but smile. “Lock him in the stocks until further notice. I will pay him a visit shortly.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.” The guard hurries away and I chuckle. Today will have at least one good moment.

  Ferrant finds me next and tells me the mayor of Lanvista awaits me in my father’s study. Inwardly groaning, but knowing I must fill my promise to Vian, I head there. I enter and greet the mayor, a man who is balding and quite well-fed. After he bows and expresses his condolences, plants a kiss on my hand, and bows again, I escape to sit behind the desk where my father sat. A chill sweeps through me. I never sat on this side. I was always on the other side, sitting hunched over with my eyes to the floor, listening to my father yell about some heinous act I had committed, waiting for my punishment so I could hurry away. Things look different from this side of the desk.

  The mayor has a slight limp as he walks to his chair and takes a seat at my request. He launches into a well-rehearsed speech about the taxes in Lanvista, and I nod and make appropriate noises of interest. However, about five words in, my thoughts drift.

  The mayor’s coat has maroon stitches, and my thoughts are suddenly whisked to Windem. I wonder what the princess looks like. She could be tall, like Liam. They’ll marry and have many children, no doubt, securing the Etigan line for years to come. I know Liam is yearning to change the reputation Etigan has, and with him on the throne, no doubt it will. I wonder if his betrothed is happy about the arrangement. Will she love him? What if she despises him?

  I snap back at Ferrant’s overly loud cough. The mayor looks slightly perturbed and I wonder how long he’s been staring at me and waiting for a reply. I clear my throat, put a hand to my mouth to cough, and clear my throat again.

  “What was that last thing you said?” I hope he doesn’t realize I missed the whole speech. By the look on his face, I’m guessing he does.

  “I invited you to come to Lanvista to see the town for yourself. It is a fine town with many fine residents,” he repeats.

  “I believe you. I will come. But you must understand I have many distractions right now that I must attend to first,” I say.

  “Of course, Your Majesty. But I hope you will make Lanvista one of your priorities,” he says in a last-ditch effort to save his town.

  “Yes, I will see to it. My brother thinks highly of your town, so I will.” I finally make the right comment. The mayor’s face brightens and he looks pleased. Everyone loves Vian.

  Ferrant escorts him out and I take my leave to go visit Hassal. Several guards escort me since the stocks are in the middle of town. As we exit, I pick up Ward and Marguerite so I can get the most of the enjoyment.

  Hassal is bound by his head and hands in the stocks, looking annoyed, but mostly bored. His face twists greatly, however, when he catches sight of us. I stand so my body creates a shadow over his face, wanting to know he can see me clearly.

  “I suppose you brought tomatoes to throw at me,” he says, almost sounding amused.

  “No, Hassal, you know I don’t sink to your level,” I say.

  “We really should have a painter come make us a portrait. It would look nice hanging in the castle,” Ward says.

  “Except I wouldn’t want to stare at Hassal’s face every day when I walk through the halls. No, the memory will serve me well.” I chuckle.

  “How long do you plan to keep me here?” Hassal asks. “I do have a mother and three sisters to support. Will you let them go hungry while I’m humiliated here in the hot sun?”

  “Yes, and I suppose you are supporting a mother and three sisters when you spend all your wages on mead and pick on helpless women in the alley?” I accuse and his face tells me I’m right. “Do you even have any sisters?”

  Hassal’s hands flop in the secure holes. “No.”

  “Lying to the queen? Hmm. That might buy you an extra day here. Luckily, we ran into Hob the Beggar on the way here and he promised me he’d make sure you’re kept fed and watered.” I turn with a chuckling Ward and Marguerite to go back to my guards.

  “Think you’ll be sitting on that throne long, Ginny?” Hassal yells to us. He receives a lash across the back from the punisher, but it doesn’t stop his sarcastic laughter. I turn back. He spits in the dirt and grins. “They hate you, you know. There’s a bet in the alley going for how many days you’ll last ‘til someone overthrows you. Rumors of trouble in the castle are spreading like wild fire. People are talking about fleeing to Kensar.”

  I try not to let it get to me; after all, I already know I’m disliked in the kingdom. But I don’t need Hassal rubbing it in. He laughs, spits again, and glances at the castle.

  “Yup, only a matter of time, they say. Newrock’s days are numbered. Long live the queen!” Hassal yells the last part, earning another lash from the punisher.

  “Come on, Ginny.” Ward is at my side, gently tugging me away. A crowd of people from the village has gathered and I can see them whispering, murmuring to each other and pointing. I get the sensation that Newrock is falling apart, and I’m helpless to stop it. I give in to Ward’s tugging and hurry away.

  “Hey! Queen!” Hassal’s voice follows us as we go. “Any chance you’ll break down tomorrow? Tomorrow is my day in the bet that you’ll fail!”

  Twelve

  Although there is another town official waiting to see me when I return, I have Ferrant send him away and barricade myself in my father’s study. Marguerite has to go back to get Monroe, but Ward drops into the seat opposite the desk and pulls an apple from his pocket. The joy I felt earlier is gone, replaced by the pounding headache, thanks to Hassal’s rant. I lean back in my father’s chair and put my feet on the desk and close my eyes.

  We’re given only a moment’s peace when a rough knock forces me back to reality. Before I can even answer, the door swings open and Ferrant enters, flanked by several men in battle gear. My guards hurry to my side, surrounding me in alarm as we await Ferrant’s news. Ward scrambles from his seat to stand back in the corner, taking his place as a servant under Ferrant’s gaze.

  “What is it?” I ask, not even sitting up.

  �
��I see you are relaxing, my lady. It’s good to see you resting well.” Something in Ferrant’s voice tells me his pleasantries are far from pleasant. I furrow my brow.

  “What do you need, Ferrant?” I hope he’ll read the tone of my voice and leave.

  “I come with a message, Your Highness.” He bows his head as he speaks. Mocking me. I glance at the guard on my right; his expression says he feels the same way.

  “From?”

  “From His Lordship, the reigning King Regent of Etigan.”

  I frown deeper. “A wedding invitation no doubt?”

  “Something of the sort.” The smile on Ferrant’s face can only be described as a smirk and it sends a creep down my spine. I take my feet off the desk and sit straighter.

  “Go on then.”

  “King Ulric,” Ferrant begins, but I cut him off.

  “The King Regent Ulric,” I correct him, suddenly feeling a need to defend Liam’s future title. Ferrant’s expression darkens, but his smirk widens.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness. The King Regent Ulric has requested an audience with Your Majesty.”

  “He’s here?” My back goes even straighter.

  “Yes. Shall I see him in?”

  “Of course.” I can’t imagine why Liam’s uncle would be presenting a wedding invitation himself. I glance at Ward. He casts a worried look in my direction before looking back to the door.

  Ulric walks into the room slowly, taking his time, since a king is never made to rush. He is tall, like Liam, his features gently reflecting his nephews. His dark hair is peppered with gray beneath his stunning crown; the golden crown laced with emeralds that used to decorate the head of his brother, Liam’s father. He’s wearing emerald robes over fine clothes, and as he enters he is careful to let the robe hang open so I can see his emerald-encrusted sword on his hip. He runs a hand casually down his bearded chin while surveying the room, shaking his head slightly as if not impressed with what he sees. I’m not surprised; Etigan is known for its greed and wealth. I’m sure our castle leaves much to be desired.