But Naelin was. Or she would be, if she were queen.
All Daleina had to do was abdicate and let Naelin take the crown. She could then send the troops to the northeast to fight the army, and Naelin could defend Mittriel from Merecot’s spirits.
Question was: was Naelin ready to be queen?
And was Daleina ready to die?
The drums had announced it: the trials would be held at dawn.
Naelin ate dinner with Erian and Llor (without Renet) in their chambers. Or at least she pushed food around her plate with her fork. She couldn’t manage to swallow more than a few bites. While the children were engrossed in their own meals, Naelin sneaked a slab of steak from her plate and fed it to Bayn under the table.
“I beat Erian in miyan today,” Llor announced.
“That’s wonderful,” Naelin told him.
Erian whispered in Naelin’s ear. “I let him win.”
Naelin patted Erian on the shoulder to say that of course she did, it was the right thing, and don’t say that where Llor could overhear.
“You did not let me win,” Llor said.
“You weren’t meant to hear that. I was whispering!”
“I won fair and square, because I’m smart,” Llor said.
Erian scowled at him. “If you’re so smart, how come you dumped your socks into pickle juice? I had to tell the cooks that you’d ruined their batch.”
He shrugged. “I was experimenting. When I grow up, I’m going to be a scientist like Healer Hamon. But not with people, because people’s inside stuff is icky. And you have to work with a lot of poop.”
“Llor!”
“Healer Hamon said so. It was part of his training. He had to learn all about how bodies work, and that includes—”
“Don’t say ‘poop’ again,” Erian warned.
“You just said it.”
Naelin smiled at both of them. It wasn’t even a forced smile. She loved them both so much that she felt as if her heart were going to burst out of her chest. Tears pricked her eyes.
“Mama has a big day tomorrow,” Erian said. “You should be on extra-good behavior.”
“It’s all right.” Reaching across the table, Naelin took both their hands. “Be on whatever behavior you want. Be yourselves. Who you are is wonderful, exactly as you are. Always remember that.” She squeezed their hands.
Now Erian looked on the verge of crying.
“Don’t worry about me,” Naelin told her. “I’ve been trained by the best champion Aratay has ever had and by the queen herself. Everything is going to be fine.” I even almost believe that, she thought.
After dinner, she tucked them in to her bed—after she was done making sure everything was ready, she planned to crawl in with them. But she couldn’t sleep just yet. Her mind was buzzing too loudly to fall asleep. She’d exercise, tire herself out, and then sleep.
Clearing the furniture to the side, she began a few of the stretches that Ven had taught her. She was stronger than she used to be—physically stronger, not just mentally. She had muscles on her arms that hadn’t been there before, and she could fold herself in half to touch her toes without any problem.
Not that the spirits would be impressed by that.
She heard a thump from the balcony. Odd, she thought. Stretching her mind, she felt for nearby spirits. There were a few tree spirits above her, clinging to the outside of the palace tree, and a few fire spirits in the hallway, dancing in the lanterns, but none were on the balcony.
She went to check—and saw her friend. “Captain Alet!”
Captain Alet was crouched on the balcony, as if she’d dropped there from above. As she straightened, she said, “Sorry to drop in on you so literally. Champion Ven wanted me to check on you. Tomorrow’s an important day, and you know how paranoid he is. Since there are already guards in the hallway, I thought I’d secure this exit.”
Going out onto the balcony, Naelin looked down. There were a few flagpoles that jutted out from the outer wall, plus windows, but they were all far apart. The night wind whipped around them, fluttering Naelin’s skirts. “You climbed up?”
“Down, actually.” Alet pointed up toward another balcony.
“You could have broken your legs. Or neck.”
“I’ve had plenty of practice,” Alet said. She shifted, and Naelin thought she seemed nervous . . . Tomorrow is important to everyone in Aratay, Naelin thought. “You’re not the only one who trains all the time. Speaking of which . . . are you ready for tomorrow?”
That was the key question. “I’d like another few days. Or years. Or a lifetime. But yes, I suppose I am ready. Ven thinks I am, or else he’s just saying that to keep me calm.” She didn’t think he could, or would, lie to her, but she also knew he desperately wanted her to be ready. He might be seeing only what he wants to see, she thought.
“You can still refuse,” Alet said. “There’s no dishonor in that. Plenty of the other candidates have already refused. They know they aren’t ready, and Queen Daleina was happy to approve their decision. She wants to have some potential heirs in waiting. You could easily sit out these trials, let someone else be heir, and wait until you’re needed.”
She wished she could. But from what Ven had told her, there was no one else. None of the other candidates were close to ready, though several planned to try. “I’m needed now. Apparently, Renet was right: I’m powerful. You know, Erian told me you were going to come talk to me days ago. I’d expected you before now.”
“I had other things to take care of. And . . . well, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to have this conversation. I was hoping you’d come to the right decision on your own.”
Naelin was confused. “What?”
“Naelin, please walk away from this. You can still have everything you want: your family safe. I can help you. I’ll get you out of the palace. Right now! You can run away, with Erian and Llor. Ven won’t even know. You can go far, far away. Even leave Aratay. You can start a new life, in the mountains of Semo. You’d be safe.”
Naelin shook her head, even more confused. “And what would happen to Aratay if I left?”
“It will fall to Semo. Queen Merecot will take care of the people like they’re her own. You don’t have to do this. It doesn’t need to be your responsibility. There’s another choice.”
Naelin couldn’t believe Alet was saying this—abandon Aratay!
“You think if you refuse, then the spirits will kill everyone, but it won’t happen that way. Merecot won’t let it. She’s poised to save Aratay. As soon as Queen Daleina falls—”
“You mean dies.” She didn’t want to hear this. It was crazy. “How can you say that?”
“She is going to die no matter what I say or what I feel or what I want,” Alet said. “Either she abdicates and the spirits kill her, or she stays queen and the False Death kills her. I’m telling you that the second option won’t be the disaster that you think it will.”