“When you were banished and your titles were stripped away, that was all they were allowed to call you. The king’s daughter. The people have watched your suffering, Maia. They have resented your father’s treatment of you. The mayor is even now rallying the citizens to rescue you and proclaim you queen throughout the land.”
Maia wrinkled her brow. “I do not even know him. Why is he so eager to help me?”
Collier smirked. “Because Simon and I told him that the king had abandoned the city to be destroyed by the armada. And then we told him of what had transpired in Muirwood. Believe me, people here have heard nothing of what happened on Whitsunday. Much of court is corrupt, but not all. They resented the king’s treatment of you and were ready to depose him even before they knew the truth.”
She shook her head, dazed. “They were truly ready to depose him?”
He nodded and grinned. “I told you before. The people cannot abide him. They resented his treatment of your mother, not to mention his attitude toward you. While there were no tears shed over Deorwynn’s execution, once word got out about your impending death, the people went mad with rage.”
“I told the king about your father’s fate and Crabwell’s grab for power,” Simon said. “There is chaos in the streets. I have reports that the Earl of Forshee has fled the city. Many of the other earls have left too. The army was divided and sent to different parts of the country to prepare for the invasion, leaving the heart of the kingdom unprotected.”
Maia nodded somberly. “What of my friends? I am worried about Suzenne and Dodd. Have they escaped? Were they harmed?”
Simon shrugged apologetically. “The outer wall has been breached, but the inner one is still under siege. We have no word from them or about them, but do not be hasty in your concern. Anyone seeking to win your favor would know to protect them. Do not give up hope.”
She was restless to hear news of her friends, but she realized it was inevitable for word to travel slowly amidst such tumult. Gathering Collier’s hands in hers, she entwined their fingers and gazed into his eyes. “What would you advise?” She looked at both men. “I confess, part of me longs to return to Muirwood and seek the Aldermaston’s counsel.”
Collier shook his head firmly. “This is not a moment to flinch, Maia. How can I put this gently? The Medium has delivered this kingdom into your hands. It is yours by right. It is yours by grace. It is yours.” He squeezed her hands. “And your people need you!”
Maia was shaking all over. It felt as if a great door was closing in her life and another even larger one was opening. The path ahead was vast and unpredictable. But her husband spoke true; she had been born for this. She understood the need to create calm immediately, to give her people hope.
How quickly her situation had changed. She had gone out into the greenyard expecting to be executed—she had even knelt before the block and bared her neck. Now, before the day was even done, the people in the streets were hailing her as their queen.
She felt a gentle murmur in her heart and realized that her destiny was just about to unfold.
To help protect Simon’s identity, Maia and Collier left his shop and met the lord mayor in a private room at a nearby inn.
The mayor of Comoros was a worldly man and a cunning one. He had dark hair with a speckling of gray and a small little stripe of beard just beneath his bottom lip. Neither tall nor short, neither heavy nor slight, he was swathed in costly court attire, jeweled doublets, and a fur-lined cape.
“Your Majesty,” he said with studied formality, bowing gracefully. “I have taken the liberty of sending for several gowns. The sheriff of Kellinge was only too quick to supply them, as well as jewels to match. I thought you might like a variety of colors and styles to choose from. If you are to ride through the city, you must look the part.”
He bowed once more with a flourish.
Moments later, several servants streamed into the room, carrying the costly gowns for her to see. Each one was sumptuous and clearly befitting someone of her station. Collier frowned at the majority of them and subtly gestured toward a green-and-gold Dahomeyjan style.
Maia shook her head. “No, my Lord Mayor. Justin,” she said more informally. “This was not planned or anticipated. I will ride without changing my attire.”