Page 11 of Grave Flowers
“Of—of course,” I stammered, confused by the switch of topic from Inessa’s death. “But, Father, you will live a long time yet. You’ve only recently approached your middling years and are in robust health. There’s no need to talk of succession.”
Father’s pacing abruptly changed direction. His hands fiddled through his clothes. Panic spiked through me. Was he looking for his favorite tool of murder—his drapery cord? Was he so disenchanted with me that he wished to strangle me? The button he’d pulled off his coat reappeared. He rolled it around in his hand.
“This is not about succession; this is about purpose—specifically,yourpurpose,” he said. “I’m certain you, along with the rest of the court, have wondered why Inessa was betrothed to Prince Aeric, leaving you as heir and Radix poised to become an Acusan vassal?”
So Father knew his plan had left everyone horrified and bewildered. Why make it, then? And why did he stare at me as though weighing my merit as I stood before him?
“Yes, Father,” I said in the same compliant voice I might’ve used as a little girl. Annoyance crossed his face, obliterating any grief over Inessa’s death. I wasn’t certain what was at stake, but I could tell it was big and that I was failing. I imagined Inessa standing in her mirror, sliding into personas like she was slipping in and out of dresses. I pictured myself in the place I was most confident: the garden, where the wild freedom of the grave flowers echoed my own longing. I spoke again, louder, stronger. “I did wonder, as did the rest of the court.”
“Good. You’ve paid attention.” Father spoke so brusquely that the compliment sounded like an insult. I understood why he might havebeen surprised, but I was more learned at intrigue than he might expect. During Inessa’s mirror performances, she’d talked endlessly about governance, unintentionally educating me. “There is something you must do for me, for Radix.”
“I am at your service,” I said, because I knew any other answer might draw the drapery cord from his pocket. “I always have been.”
“Except you’ve never been needed before. Not in this way,” Father replied. “All will change once you learn the true nature of everything.”
“The true nature of everything?”
“Prince Aeric is the ruling monarch and will receive the title of king at his coronation.” Father spoke conversationally, as though listing what he wanted for breakfast. “His uncle, Prince Lambert, recently wed Prince Aeric’s mother, Queen Gertrude. They wish to have Prince Aeric removed. To start a new royal line descending through Prince Lambert and Queen Gertrude.”
“Removed?”
“Murdered.” The word spun into the air along with the button, which Father tossed up once again. Shock riddled me. “It’s a difficult task. Prince Lambert is next in line for the throne and has gained allies at court but doesn’t know if he has enough to secure the crown, especially since Prince Aeric is the immediate heir. So he wishes to kill the boy and lay the blame elsewhere. This is what you will do: You will fulfill Inessa’s mission and go to Radix as a replacement princess bride. After the wedding, you will prick the prince with your ring while he sleeps. Then you’ll apply a generic poison to his lips and take a nonlethal dose yourself. Once you poison Prince Aeric, it’ll be claimed one of his guards tried to kill you both. You will return home. Prince Lambert will be crowned king and will dispose of those who favored Prince Aeric, as they will certainly show themselves at the coronation and wedding.” Every sentence Father spoke brought new revelations and new horrors. I was pummeled by them, as though they were the thunderous waves of our black Radixan sea: Become a bride. Kill the prince. Returnhome … all the while knowing Inessa had been poisoned trying to do the same and was now trapped in Bide.
If Inessa couldn’t do it, how might I, when she was the sum of our successes and I the sum of our failings? Everything in me wanted to flee. Or cry. Or beg Father for mercy and to not foist this upon me. My heart pounded so hard, it was everywhere, throbbing in my throat, my scar, my head. I forced myself to focus on Father’s hardened face and assume an appearance of strength. I took a breath.
“You never planned for us to be a vassal … but why risk Radix’s rage?” It was a true question, one I must know the answer to. “Is there some other gain?” Whatever it was, I knew Father was desperate. He wouldn’t hazard his rule lightly.
“Correct. I would never forfeit our freedom, ever. It’s only a pretense based upon the marriage. Queen Gertrude and Lord Lambert offered us military protections should we ever require it but also—more importantly—coin. We need it, Madalina. I’ve hidden it, but our crops have been decimated.” Father had gone on several trips to the countryside lately with only his personal guard, I realized. He’d come back full of confidence, reassuring the court that all was well. Starvation was always a worry, but I hadn’t doubted him, and neither had anyone else. “We will need money to import food to survive next wintertide. Crus and Pingere will charge us double to take advantage of our need, and, well, our coffers are drained.”
Father didn’t say why they were drained, but he didn’t need to. I thought about the marble, fixtures, lumber, and tools filling the palace, all intended for extensive repairs. The palace reconstruction project had taken our funds when we needed them most. As fine as limestone was, we couldn’t eat it.
“The coronation and wedding are only a month away. Radix is angry, but I think I can stave everyone off until then. Once the task is finished and we have Acusan coin to fill our treasury, everyone will understand.”
I had the childish desire to put my hands over my ears. I did not wish to hear any more.
Father continued, relentless. “Once you return, we will arrange a marriage with one of our own nobles. No outside blood. Us alone, always. After I pass, Madalina, you will become queen regnant.” He paused. “But I do worry. Will you succeed? Do you have it in you to assassinate Prince Aeric and save us from the coming famine?”
I closed my hand, feeling the deep ache of my scar. There was only one answer to his question. If I told Father I didn’t wish to kill the Acusan prince, he would think me completely useless. And I knew what Father did with useless things. “Yes, I can,” I said.
“Then answer me this.” He wasn’t going to let me off so easily. “At executions, you often look away when axe falls. How will you have the stomach to kill someone when you can’t watch from a chair on a dais with a glass of chilled wine?”
There was the slightest hitch in his voice. Most wouldn’t even notice it. My stomach twisted, sending a wave of nausea through me. I knew he wasn’t asking about the executions. He was asking about Mother and my part in her demise.
“I do look away,” I said. There was one regard in which I was a Sinet: I could easily lie to save myself, plausible untruths gathering on my tongue out of desperation. “But it’s because Inessa insisted I do so. She wished to appear stronger by contrast.” When our family had been three, no one spoke directly about Mother’s death. Father never mentioned it, and Inessa had alluded to it only when she wished to control or hurt me. Nothing was sacred in our family aside from Mother. She alone was given reverence and honor, as though none of us wished to taint her with our Sinet ways. “But I can do it, Father. I simply need to prick the prince as he sleeps, correct? It—it … it’s different than having to—”
“It’s not different,” Father said flatly. “It ends the same way. With death.”
“I must do it,” I said. “So I will. I won’t fail again.”
Suddenly, Father shivered and looked sharply over his shoulder at the stone wall covered in flowers. Maybe he was trying not to see what I saw in my mind: Mother’s face as she died. “I think you’ve changed.”
He was back to his brisk self. “Grown. I wondered when the Sinet blood would thicken in your veins and whet your appetite. Bloodlust runs in the family—but I’d been worried it had skipped you entirely.”
“You thought wrong.” Another necessary lie. It was dangerous to contradict him, but this was a dangerous game. Every muscle tightened in my body as I waited to learn if my answer would draw wrath or admiration.
Father tossed the button into the air and caught it without ever taking his eyes from mine. He gave an almost-imperceptible nod.
I reeled internally. I’d come up to the roof as a scared princess wishing to help her sister. I’d leave as a bride with my sister’s peace and my kingdom’s freedom in my hands, my own self an atrial vein to our throne, sending blood and life to it. I fought to stay calm. If I discovered who’d murdered Inessa, perhaps that would be enough to set her free? As far as Aeric went, I could poison someone while they slept with a prick from my ring. I would strive to be clever and act boldly. It was what the Sinet family did.
