As the carriage jerked around a corner, Naomi began to shake, and Dagny struggled out of my arms and crossed the seat. She butted against Naomi’s side and licked her hand, purring. Naomi stroked her, but she did not turn to look.
I squeezed my eyes closed. Calm. I had to remain calm. But all my fears jumbled together, each one passing too quickly to process. Everyone was dead. I was queen. Someone had tried to kill us all. I was queen. How could I be queen? Each idea felt disconnected from the others, and I couldn’t focus on any of them. I couldn’t breathe.
No. I could handle this. I just needed to focus on the problem. I couldn’t solve the deaths, and the thought of being queen was still too big, too impossible. So I would focus on the murders, the abstract concept of them, the logic behind it.
Someone had tried to wipe out the entire court last night. But who? Why? I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper of discontent, and the king’s spies couldn’t have, either, or this would never have happened. There had to be some motive, something that made sense . . . someone at the feast, probably, with some connections to the kitchen, in order to kill everyone so quietly and effectively.
And who had they intended to survive? Intended to rule? My life was an accident, that much I was sure of. No one would plot to place me on the throne. So had the murderer intended to wipe out everybody, every single noble in court? Or had they had another ruler in mind, another survivor further down the line?
Our carriage moved against the flow of the crowd, away from the palace. Once the sounds of the crowds faded, I unclipped the curtains and peered out.
“Freya!” my father hissed. I ignored him.
The same. Everything looked the same. The world had not shifted. It looked like the start of another normal day.
A stern stone castle loomed on a hill ahead of us. I didn’t know its official name, but everyone here called it the Fort. The name did little to capture its true terror. It was a single, square tower, built of black stone, surrounded by a dark moat. Once, it had been the home of the king, when warring nobles were a constant threat. Then it had become a prison, for the kingdom’s most dangerous enemies, but even that was rarely needed any longer. The Fort was more of a warning than a weapon these days, but it was kept in readiness, in case the king needed protection.
“We’re going to the Fort?” I said.
My father nodded. “It’s the only place that’s safe.”
The drawbridge across the moat hadn’t been raised for at least two hundred years. I’d thought the chains and pulleys must have rusted closed from disuse, but the bridge had been lifted now, preventing anyone from approaching.
Another two guards blocked the road at the edge of the moat. “Halt!” one shouted, as the carriage drew near. “Who goes there?”
“It is your queen,” my father said. “Let us through.”
The guards did not lower their swords. “Step out of the carriage.”
I pinched the skin between my thumb and my forefinger, swallowing my fear. If these guards didn’t want me as queen, they could easily kill me. In all the chaos, no one would ever notice. My guards stepped out of the carriage, their own swords raised, and my father nodded for me to follow. I grabbed Dagny before I moved. Her wriggling warmth kept my hands steady.
The men on the road frowned as I emerged, like they were trying to figure out who I was. They relaxed slightly when they saw my father.
“Titus,” one said. “You survived.”
“I did. As did my daughter. Please, let us through. Who knows what may happen if we linger here.”
“Of course.” The guard bowed to me. If he thought bowing to a soot-covered teenager clutching a large cat was strange, he didn’t show it. “Please, follow me.”
He led us partway around the moat, to a point where the bank was slightly less steep. A man sat in a boat halfway across, and when he saw the guard, he rowed for the shore. Rubbish floated on the water, detritus from the river that had been swept here and become stuck. Something to do with tides, I thought vaguely. The sea was miles and miles away, but I was certain I’d heard that. The Fort’s moat always stank because of something to do with tides.
The boat bumped against the shore, and a guard grabbed it before nodding for me to step inside. It bobbed as I shifted my weight onto the deck, and I squeezed Dagny tight, suddenly certain I was going to go flying into the water.
“Keep good hold of that cat, young miss,” the boatman said. “Don’t want it to take a sudden swim.”
“Young miss?” my father said. “This is your new queen.”
The man stared at him. “I apologize,” he said. The words were almost a question. “Let us cross then, quickly.”
I perched on the bench, and two guards climbed in the boat behind me, taking up all the remaining space.
“Wait,” I said, as the boatman pushed off. I looked to Naomi and my father, still waiting on the shore.
“The boat will come back for us, Freya,” my father said. “You must go ahead.”
They couldn’t make me go ahead alone. “The guards can wait,” I said. “We can cross together.”
“The guards cannot wait, Freya. Did you forget what has happened tonight?”
Of course I hadn’t forgotten. But the guards were as likely as anyone to hurt me now. We had no idea who had attacked the king. I’d be safer with people I knew. And as useless as I was, I didn’t want to leave Naomi alone. But the boatman had already rowed several lengths away, and I knew he wouldn’t turn back.
I pressed my chin against Dagny’s fur. The Fort loomed ahead, a dark shadow against the sky.
The boatman deposited me on the bank on the other side, and my remaining guards hurried me up the steep, pathless hill. My shoes slipped on the mud. I glanced back at the opposite shore. I should wait for my father and Naomi—but my guards were relentless.
Finally, we reached the Fort’s official road, and climbed it to the entrance of the castle itself. Its large iron doors stood open, but the portcullis blocked the way. My guards shouted for it to be raised, and someone inside must have heard, because it shuddered up, the chains shrieking.
I looked down at the city. The winding streets, the jagged roofs, the old Minster tower reaching past them all. The palace was a sea of green in the chaos. I could still see the lantern lights in the garden, shining with determination even in the dawn. The palace itself was all tall windows and stone columns, unchanged by the horrors it had seen.
“Come, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said. He had a gentler face than the others, with a tightly cropped gray beard and concerned black eyes. “We should not linger here.”
I glanced again at my father and Naomi. Their boat was already halfway across the river. They were as safe as they could be. I would see them again inside.