The Orphan Queen (15 page)

“Lady Julianna.” On the other side of the room, King Terrell stood, one hand bracing him against the table. His arm trembled with the strain, and his breath came in slow, heavy gasps. “I'm glad you decided to visit me this morning.”

As though I'd been given a choice.

“Thank you for inviting me.” It wasn't hard to play the part of a nervous young noblewoman, unsure of her place in this palace. Not right now. When the king beckoned me forward, I took the offered chair. “Will your wife or son be joining us?” I asked as the footman slid my chair closer to the table.

“Francesca often has breakfast with her ladies, and I'm afraid Tobiah sleeps rather late.”

Of course he did.

King Terrell sat and signaled the servants waiting by another door. “Which is good for us, because I'd like to discuss him.”

That sounded bad. “With me?”

He nodded deeply, then waited as we were served dishes of blueberries and strawberries, with small crystal bowls of cream and sugar. There were peeled orange sections and bananas, and other fruits I couldn't identify.

“Your greenhouses must be impressive,” I said, “with such a selection.” Did anyone beyond the Hawksbill wall eat so well?

“Thank you.” He dipped a strawberry into his bowl of sugar and seemed to ponder. “The Pierce family has been collecting seeds and plants from traders for generations. Our gardeners are the best on the continent.”

“Indeed?” At last, I knew where his son had inherited his pride.

His mouth pulled into a line. “I suppose there's not much competition. Not anymore.”

With wraith covering everything in the west, no. There were countries north and south of here, and Aecor, but this sliver of land was all that remained.

I fought a surge of embarrassment at my unkind thoughts. Why should I mind?

“Forgive me,” King Terrell said. “I wanted to speak to you because you know the horrors of the wraithland. Because you know what is at stake.”

I spooned cream over my fruit and stirred, waiting for him to go on. The fruit was sweet and perfectly ripe. I hadn't tasted anything so delicious since I was a child.

“You requested to join my son's wraith mitigation committee.”

“I did. He explained the committee's position on magic and wraith.” But not what happened to the people caught using magic. How strange that I was suddenly relying on Black Knife to help me find the truth. “His Highness believes that ceasing all magic will cause the wraith to dissipate.”

“As I'm sure you were taught in Liadia. It's the same theory we've been using for a hundred years.”

“Of course.”

“In many ways, Tobiah is very like me.” He turned his gaze on the window, its curtains pulled back to reveal a late-flowering garden. Ivy-covered trellises arched in the morning sun, while hedges framed walkways and chrysanthemums and
helianthuses. Small bells and chimes tinkled in the breeze. “He is idealistic. He dreams up lofty goals. He wants to make this world better, though he's only now starting to understand the horrible things that people can do to one another.”

“I thought—” No, maybe I didn't want to ask about the One-Night War.

But the king waited, his eyes dark and tired. He looked
so
different from the king in my imagination, the one who'd ordered his army to invade Aecor almost ten years ago. The one who'd allowed my parents to be slaughtered in the courtyard while my people—and I—watched. The one who'd taken the highborn children and had them put away in an orphanage.

His current illness didn't change his past actions.

Wearing my Julianna persona like armor, I made my voice strong, curious. “He mentioned that something happened to him when he was younger.”

Terrell deflated. Though it was only midmorning, exhaustion dragged at his expression, and his skin was gray and waxen. “This is all tied up together. The wraith, Tobiah's abduction, the One-Night War.”

My stomach turned and tumbled. I couldn't eat anymore.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I'm getting ahead of myself. You know of the Wraith Alliance.”

“Of course. That's why I'm here: nobility from one of the allied countries must give shelter and aid to nobility of a wraith-affected country.”

“So long as they agreed to the terms. Which included, of course, that every participating country would immediately cease the use of magic. The Alliance was created in nine hundred
and one by my grandfather, who recognized that action must be taken against the wraith threat.”

Where was he going with this?

“I'm sure you know that not all countries were willing to give up use of magic. One of these was our neighbor to the east, Aecor, and I spent the early part of my reign urging Phillip and Angela to reconsider their predecessors' decisions.”

My parents' names stole my ability to speak. I hid my shaking hands in my lap.

“The Kortes and I were friends in our youth, before we understood the scale of the wraith problem, and the animosity between our kingdoms. If we hadn't all attended a royal wedding in Laurel-by-the-Sea, our northern neighbor, we might never have been so close.” He gave a weak chuckle and spoke toward me, rather than to me. As though he were somewhere else. His sickness had addled his brain; it was the only reason he was telling me all of this. “We always said that our children would marry and unite the two kingdoms, and the conflict between our parents would be left in the past. It was only when we inherited our thrones that we grew apart. They refused to consider that they were
wrong
, that their decisions would lead to the end of our world.”

My face felt numb, as though all the blood were draining from it. He'd been friends with my parents, and then had them killed?

I should have brought a dagger with me.

“Over and over, I tried to make them understand the importance of ceasing magic. I repeatedly sent our latest reports and evidence, and reminded them that the Indigo Kingdom wouldn't
always be between the wraith and Aecor. Just as”—the king focused on me for a moment—“Liadia could not remain between the wraithland and the Indigo Kingdom forever. But they were adamant. They insisted magic wasn't as harmful as we believed, so they would not sign the treaty.”

My thoughts spun. This was too much. Too much.

“That I could not persuade them will always be one of my greatest regrets.” His chair creaked as he leaned back. “Then, almost ten years ago, Phillip's men abducted my son.”

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move.

“It was because of the Wraith Alliance again. I wanted them to sign. Their representatives were unreasonable. They refused to outlaw the practice of magic in Aecor, even though they knew the consequences. When I tried to force them, making sure they knew they were surrounded by allied kingdoms, my son was gone—taken by Phillip's General Lien. Tobiah was only eight years old.”

I wanted to ask, “Why would General Lien take Tobiah?” and a million other questions, but I couldn't make the words come. His words paralyzed me.

“I'm not proud of what happened after. The Kingdom of Aecor is gone. Phillip and Angela are gone. Their daughter, Wilhelmina, is gone, in spite of my orders to spare her, along with the other noble children. Their children deserved mercy, and I would have given them a home, but they never made it to Skyvale. I searched for them for months, without success. Princess Wilhelmina was killed in the chaos, and the children were lost. But I got my son back.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “You did.”

And I'd always wonder what might have happened if
my
actions had been different that night.

“That was the One-Night War, the night the Indigo Army arrived in Aecor City and rescued my son. It was the worst night of my life since we lost my first son, Terrell the Fifth.”

But the Indigo Army hadn't rescued Tobiah.

I had.

“My life is quickly coming to an end, Lady Julianna. I know you noticed my illness when we first met.”

“Yes.”

“When I die, I want to know I've left my kingdom a better place than when I inherited the crown. In some ways, I think I've succeeded. Crime is lower. The economy is better. People seem more hopeful.”

Terrell saw only the Skyvale with elaborate balls and gardens and greenhouses with the best fruits on the continent. Only the Skyvale inside the Hawksbill wall.

“But crime and the poor economy and hopelessness were symptoms of the real problem: magic and wraith. Those things, I've done very little to deter. My son is trying, though, and I must believe he will succeed where I have failed. But he needs someone like you to teach him about the world beyond these palace walls, because, in hindsight, I've done him a disservice by keeping him so close ever since his abduction. I hired Academy professors to come to him, instead of sending him to school. Tobiah graduated well, of course, but was never permitted to experience the equally important social aspects of an education.”

Well,
that
explained a lot about the crown prince's attitude.

“Tobiah is a good young man,” said the king. “And he will be a good king one day. I'm afraid that, though I have the best
physicians in the Indigo Kingdom treating me, I won't be here much longer. As such, I cannot stop the wraith. Tobiah might be the savior of future generations, but if he's to succeed, he will need someone to temper his blind enthusiasm. An adviser. A friend.”

Tobiah and I had used up all our friendship during the One-Night War.

The king seemed to have talked himself out; we spent the rest of the meal in silence, breaking it only to comment on the breakfast I could no longer taste. When I was excused, a footman guided me to one of the public areas of the palace, and then left me alone with
debated
and
confidential
just across the hall.

I waited until the way was clear before I slipped into the wraith mitigation committee chamber and shut the door behind me.

A banner of sunlight streamed through the window, so I didn't need to turn on the gas lamps to see the map, which still hung on the wall, unchanged from yesterday. I followed the bands of color across the land, dragging my fingertip from the far end of some long-forgotten kingdom fallen to wraith, all the way to the western border of Liadia. Plains and rivers and forests and fields: all caught in the haze of wraith.

It would be the Indigo Kingdom's fate.

And Aecor's.

Tobiah was right: something
did
need to be done. But what? Could halting magic really change anything at this point?

I shook off the thoughts. I was here to work, and quickly, before anyone caught me.

“A lake?” I murmured. A small body of water near a border village was circled, but it didn't look like there was anything special about it.

I took note of the coordinates and the surrounding area before heading to the desk. There was nothing useful, though, not in any of the drawers or files, or even in the locked false bottom.

Just as I was slipping my lockpick back into my shoe, the doorknob rattled. Should I hide? A noblewoman like Julianna would never huddle under the desk. I hurried to stand in front of the map again, just as the door swung open.

“My lady?” Clint Chuter paused when he saw me.

I'd posed with my hands behind my back, my shoulders straight, and my head cocked at a contemplative angle. My expression was a mask of sadness and nobility as I looked at him. “Captain. How nice to see you.” I offered a forced-looking smile, as though trying to hide my grief. “My apologies, if I'm not supposed to be in here. I was just looking at Liadia.”

“Oh.” He left the door open as he came to stand beside me. “You must think about it often.”

I allowed my voice to break. “Every moment.”

He gave me another minute before he said, “I'm afraid this room will be needed shortly.”

So please leave
was the implied conclusion to that sentence. “Of course. A question, first?”

“Certainly.”

I pointed to the lake in Liadia. “What does this mean?”

“Wishful thinking.” He shook his head. “It's only a rumor, and not a reliable one. It's nothing for you to worry about.”

I bit my cheek to keep from frowning. Clint was supposed to be the one who liked me. He thought I was
delightful
. If he wouldn't tell me, no one here would.

“Thank you for your time, Captain.” I gave a small curtsy and quit the room. Clearly, no one was going to
tell
me what was out there, and there'd been no information in Tobiah's desk. But I wasn't discouraged. I
would
learn this secret, even if I had to go to the wraithland to do it.

IN OUR APARTMENTS
, Melanie was reclining on one of the sofas, a book in hand.
A History of Mirrors
, read the cover in gold foil. There were ink smudges on her fingers, and her braid was askew. She'd been hard at work.