Page 12 of Grave Flowers
“Marry the prince and kill him?” I asked,
Father fiddled with the button too loosely. By this point, it had traveled far since being orphaned from the jacket, journeying through Father’s hidden pockets and holders in the way we passed through the secret passageways of our palace. It dropped to the floor. Irritation fluttered across his face. I didn’t know if it was toward me or the button. He lifted his boot and stomped. The button splintered apart beneath his heel. He looked sharply at me. “Speak up.”
I straightened myself as though I were at the first dance of a court party and all eyes were on me, waiting for me to sweep into motion. The stakes were higher than any dance could ever be, but I would make my way, one move at a time. I spoke clearly and loudly.
“Marry the prince and kill him. Consider it done.”
Chapter
FOUR
Preparations to send me as a replacement bride moved quickly because Father moved quickly. He was at odds with time, always trying to hunt it down and make it submit to his will. In the instance of my betrothal, he moved so quickly, you’d think he could be in two places at once, popping up to announce one plan had been set and then appearing from the opposite doorway to announce another had been as well.
By contrast, I felt pinned in place, especially today. We met in the library, and Father wandered around the shelves while I stood silently to the side. I never willingly visited the library. My nose wrinkled at the smell of decomposition. It was a squalid, festering place, destroyed by moisture. We had an impressive collection of books for a kingdom such as ours, but they were ruined. The books and pamphlets—most printed, though we had a few older hand-scribed tomes—were swollen and warped; the text blurred into illegibility. Moldy leather spines clung to their books by threads, cockeyed and askew. Spores speckled the books’ pages and salt crystals encased them. Waterveins grew aroundthe books, their vines and blossoms twining up the spines and through the pages like worms through apples. The library was on Father’s list for fixing, but until then, it made for a discreet meeting place, as Father preferred to keep the hidden passages to himself.
“For you.” Father held out a corked vial. “After you prick Prince Aeric with your ring and he dies, you’ll apply this to both your mouths. Just be certain to apply the majority to him and only a bit to yourself. Have a seamstress sew it into a gown and hide it well until you need it.”
Cautiously, I took the vial. It was filled with an uninspiring liquid. Fuzzy green specks floated in it. I twisted it up and down, making the bubble inside it flee from one end to the other.
“Will it hurt me?”
“It’ll only turn your lips blue,” Father said, “and make you foam at the mouth a bit. Nothing too awful.”
“How alluring,” I said dryly, trying to appear at ease as I held the vial, though nothing could be further from the truth. I’d never been less at ease in my entire life. Or more scared.
“Now, listen closely—there’s much for you to learn and hardly any time. Prince Aeric was sent away to a monasterium far from the palace at a very young age to be educated by the monastictes. They were given authority over him and treated him as any other neophyte.” Father poked one of the books, then frowned as the spine detached completely and dropped to the floor. “King Claudius was said to visit and write often. Upon King Claudius’s death, Aeric moved back to the palace, which was only two months ago. It is a new home to him. This is good. He has inherited allies loyal to his father, but he hasn’t had the time to build true friendships himself.”
I nodded, listening closely and trying to commit everything to memory. There was so much of it, and I was still dazed by the drastic turn of events. The more Father told me not to forget things, the more forgetful I seemed to be. All the information scattered through mymind with the disorder of windblown leaves. I tried to think of Inessa and remember my true purpose: I had to do this and uncover her killer while I did. She would be in Bide forever if I didn’t.
“Do you … do you know the nature of King Claudius’s death?” I asked.
Father smiled, a touch of pride in his face. “Let’s just say Queen Gertrude and Prince Lambert inquired about our moonrain after the Oscura tipped them off. Acusan physicians aren’t aware of it or its signs.”
As a child, I’d had nightmares about being poisoned with moonrain, especially after witnessing Father test it as a form of execution, one he’d then given up in favor of the theatricality of the executioner’s block. Moonrain was a discreet poison and left only the thin outline of crescents on the victims’ fingernails, but it acted so quickly, it was horrifying to behold. It was like seeing a candle blown out, but without any smoke rising from the wick in the aftermath. The victim was alive and then, suddenly, not.
“They are a lucky pair,” Father continued. “Acus is much more malleable than Radix.”
I nodded. Acus’s motto waswe shine.It was meant to be rousing, but I always heard it in my head with an exclamation point at the end, which turned it into a happy, silly saying.
Father went on. “The Acusans are dulled by too much sun, unlike here, where we are born with salt water in our veins and curses on our lips. I can only hope our people don’t try to kill me off before the job is done. I plan to stay very cautious and very out of reach until you return. I’ll remain out of sight, shall only drink water I’ve drawn from the common well myself, and eat the siege rations I have hidden away in my chambers lest I be poisoned.”
His approach was vastly different than the last time our people had been unhappy with him. Father had tried to stomp out the unrest through force alone but only stoked their ire. Fines, arrests,confiscations, tortures, whippings, and executions provided oxygen to a rapidly spreading fire. When the revolt was finally over, many had been killed—Mother included.
I thought about the overdone fish served to me this morning by the cooks, the sudden yet very extreme incompetence of my girls, and the nobles pretending not to see me pass so they didn’t have to bow. Messages all. Warnings. Threats. Radix knew its liberty was at risk, so it lashed out. I couldn’t blame them, not when I longed for freedom so deeply myself, but it was frightening to be responsible for safeguarding it. Any wrong moves from this point onward would prove fatal. For Inessa, for Father, for Radix, for me.
“Anyways,” Father continued, “your focus is Prince Aeric alone. Know this: If he learns you were sent to kill him, he will have you arrested and put on trial, after which he will have you executed.”
“Terribly romantic,” I dared to joke.
Father’s frown deepened. “What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I was jesting.” Clearly, I’d said something wrong, even though I wasn’t certain what it had been. My hands twisted anxiously together.
“You mentioned romance.”
“As a jest,” I reiterated. “A mere jest.”
“Heed my words.” Father continued to roam around the shelves, disorienting me as he passed quickly from one to the next. “You cannot fall in love with this boy.”
