Page 14 of Grave Flowers
I nodded. According to the plan, I would meet Prince Aeric—Aeric to me—tonight, publicly, at a court party. Then, the next time I was scheduled to see him, it would be at another public affair: the betrothal ceremony. There was nothing romantic or intimate about either arrangement, thankfully.
Better not to have any private moments.
Not when I was going to murder him.
Chapter
FIVE
All the fabric missing from the Acusans’ clothing seemed to be used for the palace.
I followed the emissary through a series of large halls and even larger rooms. Tapestries, draperies, and carpets covered the walls, floors, and windows. The frames surrounding paintings of the royal family were swathed in beaded fabric, and the paintings themselves had embroidered details. Thick thread punctured the canvases to form the clothing and backdrops, while rich oils captured the imperious faces. Deceased royals were rimmed in gold. King Claudius’s painting still smelled of fresh paint from the gold that had been added to his. Since we didn’t have any portraits in Radix, I was unnerved at how the eyes seemed to follow me as I walked.
Promptly, I was taken first to the dining hall for a meal. The table was long enough for fifty, but only I sat at it. A wild boar, still very much in retention of its original form, was presented to me along with a myriad of smaller dishes. Everything was terribly colorful. Halved pomegranates with red seeds spilling out like pearls sat among grapeclusters and cherries. I was given a spoon, a utensil we never used in Radix.
Acus was known for its food almost as much as its sunshine. Everything had too much flavor. Cinnamon, pepper, cardamom, and cloves left my tongue longing for something sour and vinegared. Afterward, a tankard of melted chocolate was brought for me. It was sweet yet spicy, a lingering touch of chili setting my mouth afire—yet another flavor I wasn’t accustomed to. I tried to imagine its intensity was tart instead of spicy, anything to make it more appetizing. Radixan food was often pickled, salted, and dried to make it last—sustenance was never plentiful there, even during times of prosperity—and our general preference was for anything acidic, bitter, or salty.
I’d only just finished the chocolate when I noticed the dining hall was empty. The servants who’d continuously bustled in and out were mysteriously gone. Everything was much too quiet. The hairs on my neck prickled, and my hand tightened around the ineffectual spoon. I dropped it and lowered my hand, flicking aside the crest on my poison ring.
The door opened. I jumped to my feet. A woman swept into the room, followed by a man. He had his hand on the small of her back. I knew who the woman was immediately and not simply because she wore an elaborate gown and a striking headdress. Rather, her bearing heralded her louder than any words or attire could. She was a queen—Queen Gertrude. Which meant the man was her former brother-in-law and new husband, Prince Lambert. I was meeting my allies for the first time. Swiftly, I closed my poison ring.
I stepped around the table and curtsied deeply to Queen Gertrude. As befitting his rank, Prince Lambert bowed to me.
“Your Highness, it is a pleasure to meet you,” I said.
Queen Gertrude considered me as I considered her. Her features—blond hair, blue eyes—seemed secondary to the knowledge of her plot. When I looked at her, I saw a woman who wished to have her own sonassassinated, the fact heightening the cut of her face and making it seem made of stone when I might’ve otherwise thought of glass.
Perhaps it should’ve been shocking to meet a woman whose impulses were murderous rather than maternal. However, I wasn’t so naïve. Mothers were women first, and women could be anything. They could eat fire and spew it out like dragons just as easily as they could rock a baby to sleep—in fact, they could do both at once: wield a knife while holding a babe. Or that’s how I perceived it. I remembered Mother’s reaction as Father had strangled a man with his drapery cord at a banquet. She nodded to an invisible tempo, as though hearing music. And, when Father had glanced up once, searching her out, she’d dipped her chin, telling him he was doing well, doing right.
“You can see the Fely in her. Just like the last one.” Queen Gertrude addressed Prince Lambert, not me. Wrinkles were setting into her skin. They surrounded her eyes and mouth and were so delicate, they looked like light-handed etchings. They became more apparent as her face pinched in displeasure.
“Well, my love, they are something called ‘twins,’” Prince Lambert responded. He leveled his own gaze at me, more curious than snide. He smiled easily. It made me think he truly was a second-born prince, his birth order allowing him to be noble but nonchalant. “A pleasure to meet you, Princess Madalina.”
My hands clenched into fists, making my scar burn. I understood now. Queen Gertrude didn’t want Fely blood in her grandchildren. Everyone knew Aeric’s engagement to Inessa had been surprising, and there were many reasons why: our loathsome Sinet reputation, our untamed gifting, our inhospitable terrain and unruly populous that would be more of a burden than a benefit to another monarch as a vassal state—and the fact the Sinet princesses were half Fely. In fact, the only reason Queen Gertrude had allowed the betrothal was probably because she knew it would lead to no heirs and its taint would be returned to its origins once the assassination was completed.
“Thank you for having me. Acus is beautiful, truly.” There was no need to say anything else. I’d complimented her kingdom and was too hesitant to acknowledge the insult … or was I? Queen Gertrude and Prince Lambert, as imposing as they were, weren’t nearly as terrifying as Father. “And, yes, I bear a similarity to my mother, but I think it’s always an honor to look like a strong woman, particularly one who doesn’t fit convention.”
Queen Gertrude’s face tightened even more. Her eyes no longer seemed blue; they appeared gray, pigmented with shadowy hues, like clouds stirred up in a rainy sky. It was never wise to anger your ally, but I had no regrets.
“We are happy to have you,” Prince Lambert interjected quickly. His smile was a touch too broad. “I wish to offer our condolences over your sister, Princess Inessa, and thank you for taking on her … task.”
“I appreciate the condolences,” I said. It was still strange to speak of Inessa as dead, to hear condolences, to think of her in Bide. “Her death was a shock.”
“It was,” Prince Lambert agreed, his face troubled. “Just as we were her allies, we are yours. We will help you in any way you might require.” He turned to Queen Gertrude. “Won’t we, dove?”
She sighed and crossed her arms.
I paused, taking them both in. Queen Gertrude didn’t deign to meet my gaze, but Prince Lambert sociably inclined his head toward me, trying to patch over his wife’s rudeness.
“I do have a question,” I said. “I understand Inessa died after eating a flower berry. Where did she eat it?”
“Let me see … neither of us was present, but I believe she was taking a tour of our garden,” Prince Lambert said.
“Do you know why she would eat a flower berry?” After being raised in Radix in the clutches of our grave flowers, I couldn’t imagine either of us popping a flower berry into our mouths without reason.
“It’s part of the official tour of the royal garden,” Prince Lambert explained. “Everyone is given a flower berry to try. No one has ever had an allergic reaction to it, so we were most shocked.” Even though we were alone, he glanced around and lowered his voice. “I can assure you we wondered if it was an assassination as well. In fact, I ordered our own examination of her corpse, which was done in secret apart from the royal physician. I worried that perhaps my nephew, Prince Aeric, had become suspicious.”
“Only he hadn’t.” Queen Gertrude finally spoke, impatiently cutting off her husband as though he weren’t adequately explaining things. “If he were suspicious, he’d launch a formal investigation. Anyways, the examination of her corpse turned up nothing. It was an accident.”
