Daleina had never wished for anyone to go into the untamed lands before, but once Naelin crossed, the spirits of Aratay should relax again and resume paying attention to the land. There was still so much to heal! Winter was coming fast.
Confident her spirits were heeding her for the moment, she finally addressed the others in the room. “I’ve received a message from Queen Merecot, confirmed by Ambassador Hanna,” Daleina reported. Hamon already knew this, but the information was new to Garnah. “Queen Naelin is bringing the excess spirits into the untamed lands. She’s nearly there.” The spirits had congregated around a strip of barren land—that part of Aratay had the most barren patches, thanks to Naelin forcing so many spirits to die fighting the Semoian spirits when her children were taken. Keeping a hand on the pillar, Daleina turned to face Garnah and Hamon.
Hamon smiled at her, and she let the warmth of his smile wash over her. It was the one steadying force in her always-tilting world. She could trust his love. I can’t trust Naelin’s grip on her spirits and, if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t trust my own grip to ensure Aratay’s spirits do not attack. The very truth of the situation was enough to drive a weaker person to tears, but Daleina was by no means weak. And with Hamon by her side, his quiet strength adding to her own power, she had a confidence she hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
“Then it’s almost done,” Hamon said.
She nodded. “Nearly, but I’m not lowering my guard until it is.”
His smile shifted into a frown. “You’ll need to sleep at some point. You’ve barely gotten any rest. You won’t be any good to Aratay if you collapse.”
Garnah was staring at her son. “You are such a mother hen.”
“I’m her healer, Mother. It’s my job.”
“You’re a nag, that’s what you are. She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself. Let her sleep when she wants to sleep.” Garnah then frowned at Daleina as well. “That said, you should sleep more. You have vicious circles under your eyes. People will think the spirits have been punching you.”
“Figuratively speaking, they have. But they’ll be calmer once Queen Naelin has crossed the border.” She quickly explained what occurred in Semo, and Naelin’s solution.
Garnah absorbed the news without changing expression. “She does have style.”
Daleina felt her lips quirk into a smile, and then she felt a jolt of rage from the west—she quickly shouted with her mind, Calm! Peace! Do no harm!
The spirits snarled, but subsided. Her hands had tightened into fists as her previous confidence dissipated. It was going to take constant vigilance until she felt secure about the fate of her people. She uncurled her hands and massaged them. Her nails had dug half-moons into the flesh of her palms. Crossing to her, Hamon took her hands in his and rubbed them.
“Suffice it to say, this information is not to be shared,” Daleina said, “at least until she’s left Renthia. After that, I’ll issue an explanation—I’m sure her spirits have been seen, and people must have questions.”
“Sounds as though you have it figured out,” Garnah said. “So how do I fit in?”
“Once the spirits are in the untamed lands, it should be over. Semo should be safe. Aratay should be safe. Queen Merecot should have gotten everything she wanted and have no more reason to threaten Aratay.”
Cocking her head, Garnah narrowed her eyes. “But you don’t think it’s over. Again, though, is there a reason I had to climb all those stairs?”
“Because she asked you to, Mother.”
Cutting off whatever clever retort Garnah had, Daleina said, “Because I need to be sure, for my people’s sake. I am inviting Queen Merecot to Mittriel for a peace summit. If all goes well, we’ll sign treaties ensuring there aren’t any more invasions or murder attempts.”
“And you want me to . . .”
“Make sure there aren’t any murder attempts.” Holding up one finger, Daleina sent her mind spinning west to slap down another earth spirit who was trying to burrow beneath a foreign spirit. Leave them alone. She then drew her attention back to Garnah. “Hamon was right: I’d like you to be my adviser for Queen Merecot’s visit.”
“You mean your poison tester,” Garnah corrected. “The new title is appreciated, but—”
“I mean adviser,” Daleina said. “If I may be blunt—”
“Oh yes, I love blunt!”
“You and Merecot share a lack of morality. You may be able to read her better than I can. Predict her next move. If she comes, she’ll have ulterior motives—I want to know what they are, and whether they pose a threat to Aratay or to me.”
Garnah blinked. “You have style too, Your Majesty.”
Hamon began to speak. “Daleina, my mother can’t be trusted—”
“You love me,” Daleina said to Hamon.
“Of course.”
“Well, as much as you hate it, Garnah loves you, in her own way. If I die under her watch, you won’t forgive her. She wants—spirits, needs—your forgiveness. I can trust her in this.”
Hamon nodded. She could tell he wanted to argue with her, but she could see he also knew she was right. “I’ll never trust her. But I trust you.”
Gifting him with a smile, Daleina turned back to Garnah. “I’ll expect you to be at my call throughout the entire visit. You may use whatever means you wish to observe.”
“You want me to spy on her?” Garnah said, delight in her voice. “Your childhood friend? A neighboring monarch with whom you’re trying to forge an alliance based on mutual trust? Oh my dear, has the crown corrupted your sunny optimism at last?”
Daleina elected to let the “sunny optimism” comment lie. “She is my friend. And I do love her and will always love her. But I don’t trust her.”
“Wise,” Garnah said. “Those we love can betray us the most.”
Hamon murmured, “You’d know all about that.”
“That hurts,” Garnah said, her voice barely registering she knew what the word “hurts” meant.
Daleina squeezed Hamon’s hand to silence him. She knew it was asking a lot of him, to allow his mother so close to her. But she also didn’t need the two of them to bicker about this. She respected that he disagreed, but now wasn’t the moment. Now she just needed everyone to do their jobs, and his job was to support her, plain and simple.
Not that it wasn’t a risk, of course—the Queen’s Poisoner could have her own agenda—but Daleina felt certain she was reading the woman right. Garnah was unscrupulous, but she also loved Hamon, in her own way, and she was desperate for Hamon to see that. Daleina was offering her a chance to prove herself. “Will you accept?”
“Is there a catch?” Garnah asked.
“My word is final in any decision.” To be as clear as possible, she added: “That means no murder unless I say it’s necessary.”
Garnah nodded as if this were a normal request. “Always good to include an ‘unless.’ Exactly when do you expect Queen Merecot to arrive?”
“I have already sent a message to Champion Havtru with instructions to deliver the invite in person with all the appropriate pomp and circumstance so that it’s clear it’s an official invitation,” Daleina said. “Of course, Merecot may fear a trap and say no.”
“That would be sensible,” Garnah agreed. “Is Queen Merecot sensible?”
“Not in the slightest,” Daleina said. “She’ll come.”
Garnah grinned wolfishly. “Then I accept.”
Daleina held out her hand, and Garnah knelt on one knee and kissed Daleina’s knuckles. If Merecot came with death in her heart, Garnah would ferret it out. Daleina was certain of it. And if she comes with hope instead . . . I’ll greet her with open arms.
Standing, Garnah dusted off her skirts and adjusted the feathers on her hat. “Oh, this is so exciting! And here I thought all royalty was noble and boring. I am so very pleased with my Hamon’s choice. Hamon, you should marry her before she discovers how noble and boring you are.”
“Thank you for your advice, Mother,” Hamon said stiffly.