Page 29 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

I cocked my head her way. “How will they consider it, steward?”

“The villagers, as the citizens of Vitale call your sixth, will believe this is the magic of the corn husk lady.”

Not the corn husks.I thought they were done and over with the end of the corn harvest. “That is what they call me?”

“That and by your name. They can hear your voice, recall, though they cannot see you.”

I recalled. “So Perantiqua is a mystical corn husk doll?”

“She wears a silk dress, burning with embers. She is stitched, every part of her. Her voice shakes the world. Her passage tears building from foundation and mother from child. She is the power that will save the world, but she is terrible.”

Humans had somewhat of a gift for knowing somewhat of the truth of matters even though existing in somewhat of a simple ignorance. “Impressive.”

“They are subjects that absorb the whispers and power of their immortal ruler. Other humans do not hark and herald you so.”

I imagined not. “What do they say?”

“The city—and cities everywhere—are in some chaos,” answered Princess Raise. “Skulls and their skeleton crews terrorize everyday citizens. The innocent gather in groups for protection and begin to make violent plans to retaliate.”

I blinked thrice. “Chaos, you say?”

We were passing through a field of lupins, but for the first time, I drew my observation closer to the buildings and roads immediately surrounding me.Broken windows, crumbled ruins.

The door to a pawn shop appeared to have been blown up.

Damaging harvest was punishable by death, and yet lupins were flattened in great patches as though bodies had wrestled there, or great groups had walked without care.

“Goodness, I have not looked closely at humans recently.” That seemed a shortcoming. Princess Raise reported humans’ affairs to me regularly, and yet I had not looked beyond the humans in my sixth in some time, too occupied with matters of monsters.

As we continued toward the heart of Vitale, I studied the human surroundings with interest. “What are your theories of the reasons for this chaos, Princess Raise?” I asked.

She hummed. “Obviously there is dissent between kings. King Take vows to break yourself and King See. King See is unbothered by the Takes for the first time in centuries, and yet he views all kings as his enemy because they threaten you. King Bring seeks to destroy you and See also. Change also wants to destroy you. I believe the humans of Bring, Take, and Change are the violent presences in the city. My husband’s humans are largely those gathering in groups and making plans of violent retaliation—you know that my king expects that he will need to war with you soon to steal me away. Then there are the humans of King See who maintain the running of the city, and do what they can to bring control to the chaos.”

“And mine who mind their own business,” I added.

“Not yours, Your Majesty. Yours have a life coveted by all other humans in this city. Picket was wise to build your walls so high. Soon, all skulls and skeletons and gathering groups of humans will realize they have a common enemy, as they have already done at intervals when kings allied to war against you recently.”

This all itched at my stitches, for six territories would need to become one, and I had ignored humans as an entity of their own to deal with, assuming that they would submit as each of their kings submitted. But whether or not kings submitted, their real feelings could remain untouched. Humans reflected these feelings and whisperings in their behavior.

“You have given me much to think about,” I told her. “Now, I will kindly request that the two of you remain here for the space of five minutes. I need to sneak up on Princess Change and catch her in the snooping act.”

Princess Bring quivered damply. “What shall you do then, my queen?”

“Pretend a great rage, of course.” I smirked. “Good morning, Princesses.”

ChapterEight

Time and seasons

Rhyme and reasons.

Ihad watched her for some time. Firstly in an attempt to understand the reason for her snooping, and then after for immortal amusement.

Princess Change lugged aside my bedside dresser. She peered behind tapestries next, then swept aside artworks before lifting candelabras to inspect the underside.

Princess Change lifted my mattress to squint beneath there, too, and I decided the watching should be done.

I summoned a rage. The rage was not real, so it did not shake and squeeze my queendom. But the princess would not doubt my feeling. Not everyone was discerning of such details.

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