“And I suppose this is why you kidnapped the children,” Ven said, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows lowered. He looked formidable.
Good thing I’m not easily intimidated, Merecot thought. “Obviously. If I wanted you to visit, I would have sent an invitation. But I want you to abdicate. It seemed to me that required more incentive.”
Hanna and Ven both began to shout again, but Merecot ignored them. She fixed her eyes on Queen Naelin. Naelin was the one she had to convince. And Naelin was quite clearly considering it.
“You don’t want to be queen anyway,” Merecot said directly to her. “Do this, and I can guarantee you the life you wanted, safe with your family in whatever home you want. I will keep you safe for the rest of my days. Daleina as well. And I will sign whatever treaty you want to bind my successors to keep you all safe as well.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Ven said to Naelin. “If you abdicate, you give up all the power the spirits gave you when you were crowned. You’ll have no more power than you had before—and that may have seemed like a lot then, but now the spirits know who you are. They’ll all hunt you. Queen Merecot can’t keep you safe from all the spirits of Aratay. No queen is powerful enough to keep a former queen alive for long.”
“Except me,” Merecot said. This she could say with easy confidence. “Would you like proof? I can introduce you to the former queen of Semo, who is alive and well and here in the castle.” She signaled to one of her guards.
Rising, she signaled to her guards, who escorted Jastra inside. The old queen had been waiting in the next room. Most likely with her ear pressed against the wall, eavesdropping. But Merecot was grateful for her nosiness now, because it allowed her to prove her point.
Bent over her cane, Queen Jastra hobbled into the room. She clasped Ambassador Hanna’s hand. “I’ve long wished to meet you. The reputation of your academy has spread far and wide. You’re an inspiration to all.”
“An honor to meet you as well,” Hanna said, and bowed.
Jastra greeted Ven and then Naelin. “Please believe Queen Merecot. She has the power to protect me, as you can see. These days, I can scarcely summon a fire spirit to warm my cold toes. Yet Merecot is able to defend me from their wrath.”
Merecot knew that wasn’t precisely true—Jastra had just as much power as she did prior to claiming the crown—but a little exaggeration wouldn’t hurt here. And it was true that only Merecot’s protection kept her alive. A queen gained many spirit enemies during her lifetime, and Jastra had lived a long lifetime.
“You could have a life of peace and quiet,” Jastra told Naelin, “if that’s what you wish.”
“That’s all I ever wished,” Naelin said. “And if it were only me, I would abdicate in a heartbeat. You’re right—I never wanted this. All I want is my family, together and safe.”
Merecot could hear the unspoken “but.” She waited.
“But Daleina will never agree,” Naelin said.
And that was it. With that one simple statement, Naelin doomed Merecot’s plan. Merecot tried not to let the depth of her disappointment show on her face. She’d known intellectually that it had been a long shot, but in her heart, she’d been hoping that Naelin would say yes, of course, she’d convince Daleina and all would be well.
But if Naelin wouldn’t even try to convince her . . .
“Are you certain?” Merecot pressed. “If you went back to her, knowing the scope and urgency of the situation, knowing that your children and the children of Semo need this to happen, and you tried to convince her . . . Surely she would listen to her co-queen?”
“Unlikely,” Ven said. “Daleina considers ruling Aratay to be her duty, her purpose.”
Merecot knew that. Still, she’d allowed herself to hope. “Ambassador Hanna . . .”
“I must agree with them,” Hanna said. “Abdication is not an option.”
Merecot glanced at Jastra, who gave her a small nod. At least the old queen avoided saying, “I told you so.” It had been worth a try. I suppose I’ll need Jastra’s plan after all. Pity.
It would have been nice to avoid murdering anyone.
Chapter 18
Ambassador Hanna drank the tea, which despite Queen Merecot’s assurances that food in Semo wasn’t made with rocks still tasted like rocks. She wished she were in her roost at the academy, where students were in awe and a bit afraid of her. Instead she was playing mediator to two very different and equally headstrong queens.
I should be retired, she thought, soaking in my golden years in a quiet midforest village, far from politics, responsibility, and risk of violent death. Queen Merecot always seemed a few seconds away from a toddler’s tantrum, and Queen Naelin had already destroyed part of Aratay with her emotional needs. I’m too old for this.
She leaned forward as Naelin and Merecot launched into another argument about abdication and said, “Perhaps we should break here for the day. Now that the topic has been broached, the prudent choice is to retire, rest, and consider the matter before continuing. Queen Naelin has had a long journey, and I admit that my stamina is not what it used to be.” She gave a rueful chuckle, entirely faked—she wasn’t tired, but she was getting a headache from the tension in the room.
Both queens scowled at her for the interruption.
“Rest, reconsider, and meet again tonight, perhaps over dinner, with the children,” Hanna pressed. “Queen Naelin can use the time to familiarize herself with Semo, and Queen Merecot . . . I’m sure you have much that needs your attention.”
Slowly, Merecot nodded. Her shoulders sagged—only minutely, but Hanna saw it. She’s tired. Worried, perhaps. Even afraid. Hanna couldn’t imagine Merecot ever admitting fear, but she must feel it. Even from what little Hanna could sense with her limited power, she could tell the spirits in Semo were a breath away from disaster. The land felt like a pot about to boil over and scald anyone close enough to be burned, which was just about everyone in its borders, and possibly some beyond.
Ven pushed back from the table. “The ambassador is right. If you keep at it now, you’ll just piss each other off.”
“That too,” Hanna agreed, wincing slightly at the champion’s lack of tact.
“Very well.” In a swirl of jewel-laden skirts, Merecot rose and swept across the throne room. “You’ll be escorted to your rooms,” she said over her shoulder. “Anything you need, simply ask the guards—I’ll be assigning them for your own protection, of course, as well as to make sure you don’t run around murdering people or stealing from the royal treasury or whatever.”
“Your hospitality is extraordinary,” Naelin said dryly.
“It is,” Merecot said, “as is the trust I’m demonstrating by allowing you here. Don’t abuse that trust.”
Ven was fingering his sword hilt. He just can’t help himself, Hanna thought with a sigh. Champions always thought every problem could be solved with a blade. “So we’re to be treated like prisoners,” Ven said.
“Nonsense,” Merecot said. “Go where you want. Do what you want. Just remember you’ll be watched, and don’t do anything stupid. If you’re tempted, simply remember your children are under my protection.” She exited with that threat hanging there, and her guards swooped in to drag open the massive door in front of her before just as swiftly shutting it behind her.
Naelin let out a small, humorless laugh. “If she’d left any faster, I’d think she didn’t like me.” She stood beside Ven as a man in red and gold hurried through the doorway and across the vast room to them.
The man bowed twice. “Your Majesty, I’d be honored to escort you to your rooms. We’ve prepared the baths for you and your companions, and we are at your service.”
“You can escort us to my children,” Naelin ordered.