“Yes, Your Eminence?” Nimbus replied.
“How many people could we fit in this hall?”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then pursed his lips. “Perhaps a hundred if they do not mind squeezing together.”
“I think if faced with freezing to death, they will not mind.”
“You will open the throne room to the public?” Gallsworth asked, stunned. “How will you conduct the business of the empire?”
“This is the business of the empire, and no, I am not going to open the throne room to the public.” She looked at Nimbus. “I am opening the entire palace. I want the gates opened at once. Line the halls, corridors, even the chapel. I want every square inch used. There will not be a single man, woman, or child left in the cold as long as there is any room to spare. Is that understood?”
“Absolutely, Your Eminence.”
“Furthermore,” she said, turning to Gallsworth, “I want a study done of the city to locate any other sources of shelter that could be utilized. I don’t care how hallowed or privileged. This is an emergency and all space is to be used.”
“You’re serious?” he said, amazed.
“I will not have my people dying on my doorstep!” she declared in a raised voice that left no room for question.
Guards looked up, concerned by her unusual outburst. Servants appeared nervous and several noticeably cringed. The city administrator did not. He remained straight, his eyes focused on her own. He said nothing for a moment; then his lips began to move about as if he were sucking on something, and finally he began to nod.
“Very well,” he said. “I will begin to look into the matter, but I can tell you right now where there is a large unused space. The Imperial Basilica of Aquesta has the capacity to house perhaps a thousand and at present is home to no more than eight individuals.”
“If you knew this, why did you not say something before?”
“I would never presume to fill the house of god with poor, filthy peasants.”
“Then what in Maribor’s name is it for?”
“The Patriarch will not be pleased.”
“Damn the Patriarch!” Modina barked. “Nimbus—”
“At once, Your Eminence.”
“Why are the two of you not asleep?” Modina asked, entering her bedroom to find Mercy and Allie wide-awake.
Modina insisted that Allie stay in her room as part of her initiative to free up as much space as possible. When Allie asked for Mercy to join them, Modina could not refuse. Now both girls were in their nightgowns, wrapped in blankets, facing the darkened, frost-covered window. At her question, the girls looked at her and then quickly wiped their cheeks.
“Too cold,” Mercy replied unconvincingly, and sniffled.
“It’s freezing,” Allie agreed. “We couldn’t even play outside today.”
“Even Mr. Rings won’t set foot out there.” Mercy glanced to where the raccoon was curled up near the fire.
“It is very cold, isn’t it?” Modina said, looking out the window at the starry sky. The night was always clear when the temperature was frigid.
“It freezes the water in your eyes!”
“It makes my ears hurt.”
Modina put her hand to the frosted glass—the same window she had spent so many hours kneeling before. It was like ice to her touch. “Yes, the cold is troublesome, but it might just be the miracle we need.”
“We need it to be cold?” Allie questioned.
“Well, if Mr. Rings won’t go outside, I don’t suspect anyone else will want to be out there either.”
“You mean the elves?” Mercy asked.
“Yes,” she replied. She didn’t see the point in lying.
“Why do they want to kill us? Allie is an elf, but she doesn’t want to kill us, do you?”
Allie shook her head.
“I don’t know why,” Modina said. “I’m not certain anyone knows. The reason is likely very old, too old for anyone to remember.”
“Will they—will they kill us when it gets warmer?” Allie asked.
“I’m not going to let them. Your father isn’t going to let them either. Is that why you were crying? You miss him, don’t you?”
The girl nodded.
“And you?” Modina looked at Mercy.
“I miss Arcadius and Miranda. She used to put me to bed at night, and he would tell me stories when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, I think I can help with that. I know a story—a story that a dear friend once told me when I was feeling very bad. So bad, in fact, that I couldn’t even eat. How about we get more wood for the fire, curl up in my big bed, and I will tell it to you?”
She watched the two padding about in their bare feet, collecting armloads of split logs.
The empress smiled.
Everyone commented on how gracious she was for taking them in and sharing her personal chambers. Although, there were some who thought that it was a political ploy—that her generosity was extended to make it impossible for any duke to suggest such indignities were beneath him. This was not the reason, only a convenient secondary benefit. Modina did it because she had promised Wyatt she would look after Allie, and she meant to fulfill that oath. As there was no separating the two girls, Modina inherited twins. Having done so, she realized that even if Wyatt returned that night, and the winter melted to summer and all the problems with her kingdom were swept away by some miracle, she would still want the children to live with her. Carefree laughter was something Modina had not heard in a great while. She had stared out her window at a free blue sky to avoid the gray world of grim-faced men. Now a bit of that sky bounced within her chambers. They reminded her of Maria and Jessie Caswell, childhood friends who had died too soon.
She tucked the girls in and lay beside Allie, stroking her hair.