Page 55 of The Queens and the Kings
The Ladylord ignored his lacking response, and that meant something. With the same vague, impervious sense of knowing all, she returned her attention to Britt.
“My predecessor fell sick several months ago, Britt. I accepted the position five weeks after he passed.”
“So recent! That’s why I didn’t hear.”
To Henrik, the Ladylord said, “The Ladylord of the mainland is a sacred responsibility, but we do not believe it is bestowed upon us by the god of the sea.” Cold, hard ferocity entered her tone. “In summary, I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
Britt’s mouth dropped open.
“Youtookit? But . . .”
With a gauzy wave, the Ladylord cut her off, “It’s in the books, my dear. Henrik, lubbers, as Britt loves to call us, believe that any citizen with the ability to see all sides of an issue, to stand for all persons like and unlike them, can be the next best candidate for leader of the mainland. Youthful ideas, steady wisdom, and the ability to standin the middleis what we value the most.”
“Your ascension is guaranteed by death?” he asked.
Hints of that hard edge reappeared. “Yes.” The Ladylord swept her hand down her body. “Thus, I have taken over as the next Ladylord.”
You worked for the former leader, understood all he did, then murdered him while in a weakened state,he thought.Got it.
“The leader of the mainland is the symbol of equality,” she continued. “Able to blend in with the largest crowd, interact with the smallest child, and live a life of simple means, likemost citizens. I have the wealth of the wealthiest, yet I routinely subject myself to the deprivations of the poorest. I defy even His Glory, son of the supposed sea god, to state the same.” She cut Britt a wry smile. “In a former life, you might have called me Alma. Now, I am the Ladylord.”
When her deep brown eyes bore into Henrik, monitoring his reaction, he said, “Thank you for explaining.”
The Ladylord returned her attention to Britt. “Please, tell me of your eventful voyage.”
Britt cleared her throat. “We discovered an abandoned Stenberg vessel, Ladylord. It was . . . unexpectedly dangerous.”
“Oh?”
“It delayed us a little bit.”
“I would imagine.” She tilted her head. “How long had it been abandoned, do you think?”
“Ah . . . no idea. Henrik?”
He said, “Weeks, at least.”
The Ladylord listened attentively while Britt recounted the powder, the onded, Agnes’s death. Henrik’s blood heated when she finished with a quiet, “We could not save Agnes. Henrik’s brother-in-arms is . . . devastated.”
The Ladylord turned to Henrik. “I thought soldats weren’t allowed to have emotional attachments?”
No malice revealed in her voice, only naive curiosity. Henrik didn’t bother answering her, inciting a greater curiosity. Her plain wooden chair squeaked when she leaned forward, chin propped on her fist.
“Tell me, soldat, about your life.”
Henrik frowned. “You first. Ladylord,” he tacked on.
“Mmm.” Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “Soldats. Such . . . bold . . . islanders. You dedicated your whole life to the sea god, and what did he give you in return? Suffering and death.I can’t fathom how there hasn’t been an insurrection before now.”
He expected pandering, but detected none.
“You don’t speak much?” she asked.
“Not unless there’s something to say.”
“Why not?”
“You haven’t asked questions worth a response.”
