“Take it as a testament to your nobility that I knew you wouldn’t.” Kayu sat in the wooden chair against the wall and propped her chin on her fist. “You are achingly noble, Raffe. Right on the edge of where attractive becomes exasperating.”
“Fortunately, I don’t particularly care about being attractive.” He opened the wardrobe so the wide doors hid him from her view.
“Not to anyone but the Queen, right?”
He froze, fingers clenched around a pair of trousers. Only a moment passed before he pulled them on, the movement as nonchalant as he could make it. “What makes you say that?”
“I have two eyes, for one thing. And you, Raffe, walk around like a man carrying the weight of the whole world. Who else would you carry it for?”
Raffe yanked on a shirt with more force than was needed, nearly loosening a seam.
When he closed the wardrobe, Kayu sat back in his chair like the princess she was, this time elegantly crossing her legs at the ankles. The candlelight gilded her long, straight hair, so black it was nearly blue. “I can’t wait to see her, once she recovers,” she said. “I desperately want to meet the distant cousin who has you so in her thrall.”
The word thrall made his jaw set tight. “She’s recuperating in Floriane, and I doubt she’ll be back before you’re gone. The sacrifice of her sister greatly impacted her health.”
That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
“Floriane?” A flash of white in the dim; Kayu pulled a tightly folded sheet of paper from a pocket hidden in her skirt. “Strange, then, that a letter for you concerning her would come from the Rylt.”
The Rylt. Kiri.
Shit, she worked fast.
Not worth playing coy, not that he was good at it, anyway. Raffe stalked across the room, held his hand out imperiously. Kayu passed him the letter with a smile. “I can tell you what it says, if you want. It’s very simple. I was almost disappointed; I’d been reading up on common ciphers yesterday and thought I might have a chance to try one out.”
“You are exhausting.” He scanned the letter quickly, gaze snagging on the signature at the bottom before he managed to actually read any of the body. It was Kiri, all right.
Shit shit shit. “How did you get this?”
It took her a moment to answer, and when he looked up, there was a quick flash of apprehension in her eyes. Then it was gone, ephemeral enough to have been his imagination.
“When I saw a messenger headed to your room with a letter, I let him know I could take it to you.” Kayu flashed a smile. “I might have implied that our meeting so early was for carnal reasons.”
“Wonderful,” Raffe muttered, turning his attention to the letter.
So much for hoping the former High Priestess would be incapacitated, that her injuries might render her insensate. Kiri wrote politely enough, skirting just around the edge of a revelation without actually delving into one. She thanked him for safe passage, and for sending her sisters, at great personal cost, I’m sure. She said that their accommodations in the Rylt proved most fortunate, a choice of words that made gooseflesh rise along the back of his neck.
It’s easier to hear, across the sea, away from the cursed forest’s clatter, Kiri wrote. And many a wayward sister has turned to the cause.
Nonsense. He wanted to dismiss it as nonsense. But he couldn’t, not quite.
The letter hinted that more money might be needed for the Valleydan priestesses to find peace, a transparent attempt at a bribe—so benign a threat within the scope of everything else that he nearly choked back a laugh.
And then, at the end—the Queen is well, you’ll be happy to hear. She must find her key, take the proper steps. The stars write stories with many paths, but the Heart Tree is at the end of all of them.
So she was still mad. Excellent. Stupendous, even.
Raffe folded the letter and tucked it into his doublet, working hard to keep a scowl off his face. “The High Priestess and her Order have gone to the Rylt to pray for the Queen. Since prayers are better heard when made in larger groups.” He pulled that out of his ass; Raffe had little use for religion and barely knew the basics. But he used the courtly voice he usually reserved for when his parents came to visit, which hopefully gave his bullshit some weight. “Clearly, the pressure is getting to the High Priestess.”
“Clearly.” There was something flat and hard in Kayu’s voice. “But why is she writing to you?”
“The Queen has entrusted me with keeping things in order until she recovers.”
Kayu’s eyes narrowed. “She entrusted you, a Meducian, instead of any of the Valleydan nobles?”
“You don’t know this court.” Raffe shook his head. “No one here is clamoring for a cursed throne.”
Kayu huffed a rueful laugh. “See? The rule of a cold, mostly poor country that might require one to sacrifice a child isn’t a highly desired commodity. Not by me, or by anyone else.”
Relief softened Raffe’s rigid spine.
A moment of quiet, but one that felt heavy, weighted with the action of what might come next. Raffe turned back to the wardrobe, pulled a doublet from within its depths, threaded his arms through. Waiting to see what she would do now, this shadow-damned woman who seemed determined to muck everything up.
Still sitting primly on his chair, Kayu nodded, as if she’d come to some conclusion.
With the same grace she did everything, she rose, her black skirts sweeping over the floor as she walked toward him. Raffe was tall, and Kayu was short. Still, when she looked up at him, she did not look cowed.
“If you’re going to pull this off,” she said quietly, “you’re going to need money.”
It was so unexpected, his mouth gaped for a moment.
She went on, taking advantage of his surprise, her manner slipping from flippant, bookish princess to something steelier. “Passage to the Rylt is expensive, and it sounds like Kiri isn’t satisfied with whatever amount you sent her off with. You’ll need money for winter food shipments—I know Valleyda has to import most of it, and if any other countries think they can raise prices in the Queen’s absence, it will be more expensive than it already is. Not to mention the recent reductions in prayer-taxes.” She paused. “The Queen’s physicians are expensive, too, I’m sure.”
It was a test, and the split second of silence afterward said he’d failed it. Kayu nodded. “I didn’t think so. Where is she, then?”
“Floriane.”
“Come on, Raffe.”
He pressed his lips flat.
Kayu rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.” She gave that one up more easily than he expected. “She’s alive, though.”
“She’s alive. And she’s coming back.”
It was meant to be defiant, but Kayu just nodded, like he’d confirmed something she already knew.
“Your silence.” It came out a sneer. “I’m sure that’s expensive, too.”
Angular brows drew together over her eyes. “You don’t have to buy that.”
Confusion struck him speechless.