The Queen's Price

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Lucivar stood on the flagstones outside his eyrie and watched the sun rise. There were mornings when he enjoyed standing here watching the lights go on in the village of Riada—and watching the sky fill with light. There were other mornings—like this one—when he was damn well going to kick someone’s ass for dragging him out of bed at this hour for what amounted to a pissing contest instead of a real threat to his home or the people under his hand.

His only satisfaction, for the moment, was knowing that Daemon had been awake long before a chilly psychic tap on an Ebon-gray thread had rousted Lucivar out of bed. Two witchlings had scampered off in the wee hours of the morning, heading for Ebon Askavi to have a chat with Witch, and should reach the Keep anytime now.

Lucky for the girls that Witch no longer had a physical body. When Jaenelle had been alive, she had not been friendly first thing in the morning.

The eyrie’s front door opened. Marian came out holding mugs of coffee.

“Is someone in trouble?” she asked, handing him a mug.

“Probably,” he replied.

“Our children?”

“Oh, I’m sure at least one of them had a hand in whatever has Daemon stirred up so early in the day.”

“It would be smarter to let him get enough sleep before dumping trouble on him.”

Lucivar laughed softly. “It would have been smarter if they hadn’t started the trouble in the first place, but since they did start it, I guess this is another day we start early.”

“Do you want breakfast?”

Lucivar drew her to him and gave her a warm kiss. “I’ll get something at the Keep once the witchlings . . .” He didn’t see a Coach arriving at the Keep, but he knew the moment the Sapphire set foot on Ebon Askavi. He handed the mug back to Marian. “Looks like I’m heading there now.”

“Bring them here after their audience with Witch. You won’t want to be in a Coach very long with girls that age until they have time to settle.”

“Yeah.” At least there were only two of them. Of course two, full of girl drama, could make a man feel like he was dealing with two dozen.

Before he stuffed them into a Coach for the return journey, maybe he should find out if Daemon really wanted them back.

Blowing out a breath, Lucivar stepped away from Marian, spread his wings, and flew to Ebon Askavi.

Keeping one hand around Zoela Queen’s arm to prevent her from bolting back to the Coach, Grizande pounded on the door. Big door. She wondered if there were still beings in the Realms that needed a door that size. Best not to think of that right now, since she didn’t know what actually lived in this mountain.

She banged her fist against the door a second time before it opened silently.

She stared at the Seneschal. Human, but in a way that had Grizande’s hackles rising, had her claws flexing.

The Seneschal stared back and said, “Yess?”

When Zoela Queen remained mute, Grizande growled, “Zoela Queen needs wisdom from Queen who is more than a Queen.” She shook Zoela Queen’s arm. “Show coin.”

Zoela Queen held out the coin she’d been clutching all the way to the Keep.

The coin vanished. The Seneschal turned and said, “Follow me.”

Given how long it took them to reach the part of the Keep that she remembered from the last visit, Grizande figured she must have chosen the wrong landing web. But she’d guided the Coach to the only landing web that had a beacon she could detect, so maybe the landing web near the Queen’s part of the Keep was only for Warlord Princes like Yaslana and shielded against everyone else.

It didn’t matter. They were here, and Zoela Queen could ask for wisdom.

As they approached that ornate metal gate, a door opened. Grizande sniffed the air. Food. There had been food in that room the last time she was here.

“Wait in there for the Queen,” the Seneschal said. She looked at Zoela Queen. “With me.”

Grizande watched them until they’d walked past the metal gate and Zoela Queen’s Opal power and the strange feel of the Seneschal’s power vanished.

She hurried into the room, hoping for food.

The door closed behind her. Ebon-gray power filled the room, eclipsing Grizande’s sharp interest in the serving dishes that covered the table.

A sight shield faded. Lucivar Yaslana gave her a lazy, arrogant smile. “Hello, witchling. You and I are going to have a chat.”

Now that she was there, facing Witch, Zoey didn’t know what to say. It had seemed so important to ask someone outside the Hall for advice. Maybe she should have walked down to Halaway and asked the Queen who lived there. But what if that was where these bad instructions were coming from? Someone was adding them, and she couldn’t see how it could be anyone who wasn’t close enough to know what was going on at the Hall.

It had seemed so important, but the closer she and Grizande had gotten to the Keep, the more doubts had formed, chewing away at the certainty that this was what she needed to do for herself and the other Queens. But it had been only a slap on the hand. All right, the slap on the face had not been good, but it seemed so trivial now, when she would have to explain it to the Queen.

“Does Daemon know you’re here?” Witch asked.

“Maybe?”

“ ‘Maybe’ as in you left a note on his desk explaining that you and Grizande were going to the Keep? Or ‘maybe’ as in someone saw you leave, and you hoped the person would make a comment at breakfast about you going off in a Coach to some unknown destination? Or ‘maybe’ as in you did tell someone where you were going and asked them to convey the message after you had enough time to reach the Keep but before Daemon summoned all the Warlord Princes in Dhemlan to search for you?”

Zoey blinked. “He would do that?”

Witch stared at her. “You have a Sceltie who is your special friend.”

“Yes. Allis.”

“Does Allis know where you are?”

“She was still asleep when I left.”

“Uh-huh. Well, my darling, there is good and there is bad. The good is that it won’t be Daemon who bites you for not informing him of where you were going. The bad is that you have interfered with a Sceltie’s ability to look after you, and you will have to grovel for several days before she stops being offended by this lack of understanding on your part. And until she stops being offended, you will not go anywhere without her knowing about it.”

“Anywhere as in . . . ?”

“Anywhere.” Witch took a seat on the sofa opposite Zoey’s chair. “Now that we have settled that much, why are you here?”

“You’ll think it’s foolish.”

“Anything that drives a Queen to come here and request an audience isn’t foolish.”

Zoey started with the students’ first meeting with Lady Dumm and continued up to the meal where the stench drove everyone out of the dining room but improved Dumm’s manners—once she’d been aired out sufficiently to be allowed back indoors. A few days after that, the first additional instruction was added to the Territory Queen’s tasks. A punishment that was supposed to be done out of sight of the instructors or senior staff—and definitely out of Prince Sadi’s sight.

“If the Queen doesn’t follow the instructions, doesn’t do this other thing, her whole court will be punished,” Zoey said. “Ordering your people to lightly slap three people’s hands seemed a small thing compared to having everyone punished.”

“And then?” Witch asked quietly.

“And then the instructions changed. Two people would slap hands, and one person would slap three people on the face. A light slap, but still.”

“Did you give the order?”

Tears filled Zoey’s eyes. She nodded. “I gave that order to Prince Raeth. I—I’m not sure if he did it. He was so angry.”

“Did you think he wouldn’t be?”

“If I revealed these extra instructions, everyone in my court would be punished, but nothing in the instructions said my people were at risk if someone else reported these unjust disciplines. I’d hoped Raeth . . .”

“None of those boys have worked with you long enough to hear an unspoken command,” Witch said. “You did Raeth a disservice by not making it clear to him that you wanted him to report this because your hands were tied. That said, I would be very surprised if Daemonar wasn’t told about this and hasn’t, in turn, told Prince Sadi.” A pause. “What is the Queen’s purpose?”

“To be the moral center of her court and, by extension, all the people in her territory,” Zoey replied.

“What is the Queen’s duty?”

“To rule with honor, strength, and compassion because her will is the law. To protect her court so that they, in turn, can protect the rest of her people.”

“What is the Queen’s price?”

Zoey hesitated, unable to recall anything in the lessons about a price. And yet, didn’t everything have a price?

“You stand for the land and the people you rule,” Witch said quietly. “You stand against what you know is wrong, no matter who gives the command. You stand and fight, no matter the cost to your court or to you. Especially to you. There is no such thing as a small wrong, Zoela. Not when you’re a Queen. That’s how the taint begins.”

“But we don’t know who is giving those orders.”

“If you don’t understand by now who isn’t giving those orders, you have no business being at the Hall or dealing with Daemon Sadi.” The words came out icy and sharp.

“We’re supposed to copy out the orders and burn the original paper. We’re trying to acquire an original to give to Prince Sadi because Jhett thinks he might be able to draw some information out of the paper and that’s why the Queens were told to burn the original instructions.”

Witch nodded. “Wood and stone remember. Daemon would be able to pull enough information from the paper to have a sense of who wrote the orders.”

Zoey stared at her hands. “We thought it was a test for the Queens.”

“Not one that Daemon devised, but yes, it was a test.”

“And we failed. The Queens failed.”

Witch smiled. “You haven’t failed yet.”