Keys jangled as I plucked them from the desk and handed them to the young sergeant. “We’re no longer at war, Theodore. I want you to release the Indigo Kingdom soldiers, as well as the loyalists. A transport will be arranged so the soldiers can return to the Indigo Kingdom. Tomorrow.”
His eyes widened. “And the loyalists?”
“Keep records of their names, but we’re not holding them anymore.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and headed for the cells. “With your permission. . . .”
I waved him on, and when James and I were alone in the guard room, I faced him and kept my voice low. “I want an Indigo Kingdom soldier watching Patrick at all times. Someone who will treat him with dignity, but feels no loyalty to him.”
James nodded. “I’ll choose someone myself.”
“Thank you.” I started out of the prison, James on my heels.
“At least he won’t be a problem anymore.”
“Just because he’s in prison doesn’t mean he’s not a threat.” I looked at James askance. “He has plans within plans. He might be in prison, but he’s still one of the most dangerous people I know.”
Whatever his intentions, I’d know by the anniversary. That much was clear.
TWENTY-NINE
I WASN’T TWO steps out of the dungeons before Paige found me, a sheet of paper clutched in her hands.
“What’s that?” I dreaded the answer. I wanted to collapse into the nearest bed.
“People who want to meet with you, disputes that need your judgment, and documents that must be signed.” Paige’s eyes were wide as she walked backward so we could keep moving. “There are other things, too.”
“I’ve been here less than an hour.” I checked over my shoulder; Melanie and Oscar trailed behind James, all with hands on their weapons.
“Wait until it’s been two hours,” Paige said. “You’ll have twice as many demands for your time.”
“I can’t wait.” I slowed my walk as we returned to the main part of the keep, half strange and half familiar. The rugs and tapestries were the same, but faded now. Or maybe they always had been, but as a child I’d never noticed. Rather than oil lamps, gas lights filled the tarnished sconces. It was a steadier glow, but I could see the pipe running the length of the hall, and climbing up at every light. Skyvale Palace must have had pipes, too, but they’d been built inside the walls.
Paige was still on her list. “I think we could put off the meetings until tomorrow afternoon and the day following. I’ll prioritize them, if you like.”
“Very good. I’m not meeting anyone now.”
She nodded, moving on to the next item. “I’ll have these documents delivered to the queen’s chambers—”
“My mother’s rooms?” I stopped walking. “I’m not staying there.”
Paige’s mouth snapped shut and she glanced behind me, looking for help.
“Wil.” Melanie hooked her arm with mine. “Where else would you sleep?”
“My old rooms.” Obviously. “I’m not sleeping in my dead mother’s chambers.”
A pause fluttered over our group. Down the hall, someone else was approaching; a physician, by her robes.
“Wil,” Melanie said again. “Are you the queen, or are you the same little girl you were ten years ago? What signal do you want to send?”
I twitched my little finger at her. “I’m the queen.”
“Say it again.” She released me and moved ahead to speak to the physician.
“All right.” Paige jabbed a finger at the list, and we were moving again, now in the direction of the royal apartments. She kept up a stream of updates on the castle, the people working here, and a number of decisions I’d have to make about the staff.
I half listened, but the reality of walking these halls was too powerful. The last time I’d been here, I’d been a child. My kingdom had been minutes from annihilation.
There was my father’s study, the last place I’d heard my parents’ voices; they’d been fighting about Tobiah.
And there was General Lien’s study, where I’d found the prince bound and beaten. We’d hidden on the ledge and watched my city burn until we were discovered. He was rescued. I was captured. Then my parents had been murdered and the rest was a nightmarish blur.
“Your chambers, Your Majesty.” Paige handed me a key as I shook away the memories. “It’s a little stuffy, but the previous steward did his best. I assigned Danie to be your maid, but if you don’t like her I’ll find someone else.”
“I’m sure Danie is fine. What happened to the previous steward?” I stepped through the open door, into another tangle of memories. The parlor was just as I recalled, with wood panels along the bottom of the wall and ocean green paper on the upper half; it was bubbled in a few places, dirty and needing replacing. A portrait of my grandparents hung over the lit fireplace, and bookcases lined the walls. Only half the shelves were filled with books; the others held framed artwork, both in ink and paint.
I’d forgotten that she liked to draw.