“But it is a servant’s gown,” he objected. “They will not even know who you are. My lady, I appreciate the gesture of humility—in fact, I honor you for it—but the people need to see you as their queen.”
“Thank you for the trouble you took in bringing these to me,” Maia said sincerely. “It was thoughtful of you to try to anticipate my needs. Thank you. But this you must understand.” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. In her mind, she could practically hear Corriveaux’s voice as he promised her gowns and jewels and courtiers and the envy of all. “I am not my father. I am his daughter. My mother spent her final years as queen living as a wretched in Muirwood. I myself have just passed the maston test at that abbey. Our kingdom is on the brink of civil war, but that is far from the only threat we face. We are also on the brink of an invasion by men who care nothing for the sanctity of lives—men who want only to crush us. This is not a time for pageantry or show. A queen serves her people. So it is best if I come in that guise. I have come to serve Comoros, not to rule it.”
The mayor stared at her as if she had uttered speech in a foreign language. When he glanced at Collier, she did too, and what she saw there was heartening—could his look be approving? Of course, if anyone would understand, her husband would. He knew all too well the benefit of a servant’s garb.
“Now, Justin,” she continued. “Thank you for providing a horse. I do need that. If I ride next to you, I think the people will understand who I am. You mentioned it would be best if we rode through town so that we could rally more supporters.”
“It is dangerous,” the mayor said, “but also unexpected. Your enemies will not have time to retaliate. The inner grounds of the castle are still locked down, but we now control the outer gates. As I suggested earlier, once we have ridden through town, we should assemble a host of citizens to follow you to Pent Tower. There you can command the castellan to open the gates to you. If he refuses, we lay siege. There are not enough provisions there to last more than a fortnight. But I know the castellan. If you come, I trust he will do his duty and open the gates. The people believe you are the rightful heir, despite the acts.”
“Very well,” Maia said. “Prepare the escort. We ride at once. I would like to make sure the castle is ours before sunset, if possible. Two of my dear friends are trapped inside, along with any number of other innocent victims. The chaos and looting must end swiftly. We face too many threats from the outside to be this divided within.”
“I cannot agree more,” the mayor said, mopping his brow with a silk kerchief from his pocket. He turned and left to make the final arrangements.
Maia turned to Collier. “Are you disappointed?”
He flashed her a small smile. “Whether you wear a servant’s gown or one made by a master tailor, you still look beautiful.” Collier took her to the corner of the room, where a chair sat in front of a table and mirror. “Your hair needs to be brushed. If I may?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded, giving him a private smile. Then she sat down in front of the mirror and gazed at her weary reflection. There were soot smudges above her cheeks.
Collier took a comb from the table and began to smooth out her long hair with expert hands, as he had done aboard the ship on their way to Naess. She was more comfortable with him now, but his touch made her shiver with pleasure and anticipation as his hands grazed the back of her neck.
“I wanted you to ride with us as well,” Maia said, looking at his deep blue eyes through the mirror’s reflection.
He shook his head. “Simon said it would be unwise, and I agree with him.”
Maia pursed her lips.
“Shall I explain?” he offered.
She nodded.
“The people love you. There is euphoria in the streets right now. Word is spreading quickly that you miraculously escaped your death at the tower and will ride through the city to claim your father’s throne. Simon’s people are helping to spread the word. All requests for evidence that your father still lives have been met with silence. Half the nobles, including Kranmir, fled the city, and many were robbed as they departed Ludgate.” He snorted to himself. “I will not comment on whether they deserved it. This is your moment, Maia. If the King of Dahomey rides beside you, then it will tarnish that moment. You did this, not I. It would not be wise to let people think that Dahomey manipulated your father’s death or put you on the throne.”
Maia stared at him. “A queen has never before ruled Comoros,” she whispered. “I will be the first.”