“Perhaps,” Emily said. “But would your father have listened?”
She allowed her fingers to run over the snake-bracelet, wondering if this was the end of her first two friendships. Alassa and Imaiqah had every right to be mad at her, even if they understood the reasoning behind her decision. She ran through it again and again, wondering if she’d made the right choice. But she’d been the only one who knew. She could not have asked them without setting disaster in motion.
“He took Paren’s betrayal hard,” Alassa said, flatly. “Paren was only ennobled because of his service to the king. My father expected gratitude…”
“Your father didn’t keep his side of the bargain,” Emily pointed out. “And that’s something you’re going to have to watch.”
“I am not in the habit of breaking my word,” Alassa said, icily. “I will not betray those who assist me.”
“Your father thought he could buy Paren off with a minor ennoblement,” Emily reminded her. “And Paren was not so willing to abandon his principles–or the people he left behind when he moved onto the Royal Mile.”
Alassa ran her hands through her hair. “I wish you’d told us. I understand why you didn’t, but I wish you had. As it was…we were surprised. If I’d known, before Imaiqah had been arrested, I could have made preparations for the day the truth came out. And maybe she would have been more careful about answering a Royal Summons.”
She met Emily’s eyes. “Are there any other secrets you’re hiding from us?”
“Not about your kingdom,” Emily assured her, quietly. “What are you going to do about your father? And your uncle?”
Alassa clenched her fists. “I’m going to have to overthrow them, both of them,” she said, grimly. “Uncle…may not be able to offer much resistance, but the noblemen backing them”–she spat–“the Noblest, can muster considerable force. More, now they’ve thrown aside the king’s controls. I don’t know if they managed to take the city or not, but either way it’s going to be a long war.”
Perhaps, Emily thought.
“Father was building up a vast army when…when I was arrested,” Alassa added, after a moment. “He’ll hesitate to strike directly at Swanhaven, when he realizes where I am, because that would mean exposing his back to the Noblest…unless he genuinely thinks he can win a war on two fronts. If not…”
Alassa stood and started to pace. “An alliance with the Noblest may seem the best option, but I can’t trust them. They would want to turn the clock back a decade in exchange for their help. And they’d probably want me to give up much of my power and marry someone of their choice and that”–her voice hardened–“I will never do.”
“I understand,” Emily said. She looked at the faint bulge under Alassa’s shirt. “What about the baby?”
“Oh, they’ll probably want to foster the child,” Alassa said. She laughed, bitterly. “I was raised by my father, who was raised by his father…that’s three monarchs who were raised by men who understood the dangers of letting the nobility get out of control. They’ll want to make sure my son doesn’t think he can bash their heads in when they get too rowdy.”
She rested her hand on her swelling abdomen. “And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that I have a strong kingdom to pass down to this little one.”
Emily cocked her head. “Do you know…?”
“If it’s a boy?” Alassa shrugged. “I never checked. I daresay I could find someone willing to check, if I wished, but…it doesn’t matter. Boy or girl, the child is the heir to the throne and no bastard son is going to take that from my child.”
Imaiqah cleared her throat. “So you will keep your agreement with the Levellers?”
“More or less,” Alassa said. “Embracing the New Learning does seem to be the only way to survive, doesn’t it?”
Emily nodded. “You’ll have men willing to fight for you. The king and the nobility will have to rely on conscription.”
“And Tam said that much of Alexis is rebelling against the king,” Imaiqah added. “Your father may be in a tight spot.”
“Not unless they have a way of breaking into the castle,” Alassa said. “My father could hold the castle, the guardhouses and the major roads…the rest of the city is immaterial. He can simply starve them into submission, if he’s feeling patient.”
“Food was already running short,” Emily said.
She thought of the huge surpluses that had been produced in Cockatrice and scowled. Who would have thought that allowing the farmers to keep most of their produce would actually improve production? Food prices had been dropping across Cockatrice because more food was actually available. But the entrenched aristocracy wasn’t willing to give up its claim to everything the farmers produced. They could hardly be surprised when the farmers didn’t grow more than the bare minimum to feed their families.
It would mean giving up power, Emily thought. But I never considered that I had the power in the first place.
“It won’t be easy,” she said, quietly. “Your father was coming unhinged.”
“I know,” Alassa said. “He was starting to crack up even before he knew about Paren.”
Emily eyed her, wondering if Alassa really did have what it took to wage war on her father. If she’d shot Randor, only a few short hours ago, the war would be over by now…no, part of the war would be over. Alassa would have inherited the crown, but Randor’s minions might have tried to keep her from the throne and the Noblest wouldn’t have recognized her claim anyway. Their decision to use Duke Traduceus as their figurehead meant they logically couldn’t recognize Alassa as their monarch. Not, she supposed, that logic and reason meant much to the aristocracy. They’d twist everything out of shape until they got what they wanted.
“We’ll be with you,” Emily promised, quietly. “But…be careful.”
“I will be good,” Alassa said.
Imaiqah leaned forward. “So…you and Cat? How did that happen?”
Emily had to smile, even as her cheeks reddened. “You want to talk about that now?”
Alassa giggled. “Is there anything else to do while we wait for the boys?”
“Probably not,” Emily said. She felt too tired to do much of anything, save sit down and wait. Her body wanted rest, but falling asleep now would be a very bad idea. “We just…we just walked out together, back at Whitehall. And then…”
She tried to put it into words, but nothing seemed to quite fit. “We ended up in bed together, after the first riot,” she added. “And then…we just enjoyed ourselves.”
“It is enjoyable,” Imaiqah said, deadpan.
Emily felt her blush grow deeper. “Yeah. But…”
She shrugged, unsure what she wanted to say. Cat had made it clear that they were nothing more than friends with benefits, although…he had risked his life to save her from the executioner’s axe. She made a mental note to ask him how he’d done it, although she could think of a couple of possible solutions. A man in a shapeless black outfit, complete with hood, could be anyone. Cat had probably found the executioner getting ready, turned him into something unnoticeable and stolen his clothes. Emily wondered if the executioner would have the sense to run, when the spell wore off. Randor would be looking for scapegoats and no one would defend a man they regarded as a legal murderer.
“His family isn’t that distinguished,” Alassa said, after a moment. “But he is clearly talented and powerful. You could do worse.”
“I’m not going to make babies with him,” Emily protested. “I…”
“Why not?” Alassa touched her baby bump significantly. “You and he would have powerful children.”
Emily shook her head, firmly. “Not now…not yet, anyway. I don’t know where things will go.”
“You have plenty of time,” Imaiqah said. “But make sure you and he both know the score.”
She smiled in bittersweet memory. “There’s nothing that makes matters worse than finding out you want one thing and your partner wants something else.”