She had feared that Xenia might laugh at her when she figured out what Mina truly wanted, but Xenia didn’t laugh or sneer. She nodded slowly, looking Mina full in the eye as she said, “You have to remain queen. And you can’t do that without me.”
“It seems that we both need each other,” Mina said. “You keep me on the throne, and I’ll keep you on my council.”
“Is that all you can offer me?” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Mina had been prepared for that question. “I’ll make you my chief adviser.”
“An alliance, then?”
“For the good of the kingdom.”
The two women watched each other, and Mina knew they were reaching the same realization—that despite their distaste for each other, they would both be stronger together than they had been before, when they were at odds. The peace of an entire kingdom waited for them to put aside past offenses in the name of power and pragmatism.
Xenia’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If I help bring you the council and the rest of the court, do you think you would be able to maintain your place on the throne?”
“I have the castle guard on my side,” Mina said, “and a newly established personal guard as well. The steward assures me that I’m not the first queen in Whitespring’s long history to remain in power after her husband has died. I can only imagine that all of Whitespring would also prefer a peaceful transfer of power rather than a long search—or war—over a successor, and will give me no trouble. And, of course, I have the support of the South. If I command them to rise up—or to stop sending food to the North—they will obey.”
Xenia shuddered, probably imagining the disaster that a southern siege against the North would bring. At last she nodded. “No one wants a war, especially not the North.”
“Are we in agreement, then?” Mina said, rising from the table. “We’ll speak to each of the councilors together, telling them what’s happened and explaining why their support is necessary, just as I’ve explained it to you. With your influence and my position, I’m sure we can persuade them to fall in line.”
Xenia stood too. “I believe you’re right. Have no worries, my lady. You’ll sleep tonight as a queen.”
*
That evening, Mina gathered her court in the throne room with her guards, both old and new, lining the walls. The Hall was more suited for an audience of this size, but Mina thought the throne room lent her an air of authority and provided a change of scene from the stale and stagnant kings and queens who had come before her.
“People of Whitespring,” Mina called out over the small crowd. “As some of you may have already heard, King Nicholas died this morning, from wounds received during a hunting accident.” She waited for them all to murmur among themselves, bracing herself for what she had to say next. Would it ever become an easy thing to say? Would she ever become accustomed to speaking these words? “But even as we mourn his loss, we must face another tragedy: Princess Lynet was found dead as well.”
The crowd gave a collective gasp out of respect for the news, but Mina saw no fresh sorrow, no real surprise. The council members all knew, of course, because she and Xenia had told them, and they must have quickly shared the news with others. At that moment, she preferred Nicholas’s honest grief to the calculated looks of sadness on the faces of the court.
“There will be time enough to mourn in the coming days, but at this moment, it’s my duty to look to the future, to ensure that no harm comes to this kingdom as long as it’s still in my care. The king died without naming a new successor, and so in the interest of maintaining peace in our kingdom, I have been asked to continue my reign as queen and to rule in my husband’s stead. I would never presume to accept such a request without the support and approval of my court. If there are any here who wish to refute my claim, please speak now.”
Minutes passed in silence, and though Mina saw a number of people glance uncertainly at the soldiers around the room, not a single person in the room spoke out.
Finally Xenia stepped forward, apart from the crowd, but still at a careful distance from Mina. “I think I speak for us all, my lady,” she said, “when I say that we are thankful for your leadership at such a distressing time. We all owe our continued good fortune to you, Queen Mina.” And with a sly look in her eye that only Mina could see, Xenia bowed her head. Immediately, the rest of the crowd followed suit, the entire room bowing to their queen.
Mina allowed herself a small, silent intake of breath, barely noticeable to anyone who might be peeking up at her over the sea of bowed heads. She had stood in front of a bowing court before, but always at Nicholas’s side, always with Lynet close behind her, a reminder that she was only an interim between two identical queens. The last time she remembered facing the court alone had been on her wedding night. That was also the last time she’d felt they might love her.
And did they love her now? Would they accept her fully, now that she was their best and only choice? Would they remember her as the queen who had saved the kingdom from being torn apart by civil war? Or would they always think that it should have been Lynet standing here, instead?
She held her head high, accepting their gesture, but part of her wondered if she had only traded the ghost of one queen for another.
22
LYNET
The merchant’s cart was cramped, but Lynet was glad for it; the more people there were, the less attention she would attract. Tucked into the corner of the cart, Lynet tried not to fall asleep, but she was exhausted, and she pinched herself whenever her head started to droop.
The snow had become an unexpected resource. She now had a new dagger hidden under her cloak, and though she wasn’t sure she would know how to use it, she felt safer knowing it was there. She hadn’t eaten since leaving Whitespring, so she’d created some bread out of the snow and wolfed it down. She had a new purse with money now too, which she had used to buy her way south.