Page 15 of Grave Flowers
“I understand.” I hesitated. “If you might indulge me, who gave Inessa the flower berry?”
“Our head botanist.” Queen Gertrude sighed, clearly annoyed. “Annia. She inherited the position from her grandmother forty-eight years ago. The woman is not political and has no aspirations aside from seeds and sunshine.”
“Did you—did you see my sister die?” The question came out more fearfully than I intended. I didn’t like thinking about Inessa’s death, yet it was a scene I must re-create. It was the second moment of demise to plague me. Mother’s death had been the first.
“I did not. I was praying at my family’s grave,” Queen Gertrude said. Only her hand moved. It stroked her neck, where a thin gold pendant hung from an even thinner chain. “Enough of this. I’m going to retire.” Frown lines sliced their way between her delicate brows. She spoke to Prince Lambert. “I’m rearranging my chambers again, so I might be late to supper. I can’t seem to get them just right.”
I curtsied. She didn’t bother to nod or dismiss me as she swept by. The cool silk of her skirts rippled against the heavy wool of mine.
Unexpectedly, she said, “Do better than your sister.”
The door slammed behind her, a loud exclamation that emphasized her order.
“She’s a bit fretful.” Prince Lambert shuffled apologetically. “We are both grateful you’ve come.”
“Praying at her family’s grave …” I frowned. “Does she mean her parents’ grave?”
“Indeed.” Sorrow filled Prince Lambert’s eyes, but it was more than simply sorrow. It was a haunting, the sort you get from sorrow that hasn’t been put to rest. “But not only her parents—her entire family, including aunts, uncles, and her brothers.”
“Were they beset by catastrophe?”
“They were beset by my brother, King Claudius. It happened early in their marriage. Queen Gertrude hails from the House of Montario, originally. They were wealthy nobles caught selling ecclesiastical offices to sway the faith.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t shocked. Far from it. In Radix, religious positions were bought and sold often, so much so that the rate for them was preposterously low. You could become a monasticte of a high order for a few coins. Clearly, Acus treated it as a much more serious vocation.
“Queen Gertrude begged King Claudius for their lives, but they were executed, all of them. They were buried in the little chapel just outside the palace grounds. She visits often.”
“That’s awful,” I said, trying to endear myself to Prince Lambert so he might endear me to Queen Gertrude.Awfulwas an apt word for such punishment, but I knew Father would do the same—or more—if he sensed a house striving for power outside the crown.
“My brother was a severe man, and his severity led to cruelty, at least in my opinion.” Prince Lambert shook his head. “However, her family provides for her from the grave. The Montario wealth—generations of it—was finally released to Queen Gertrude after years of litigation in the Court of Augmentation since there was no one alive to be grantedmale primogeniture. Most thought their assets should be turned over to the treasurer, but King Claudius supported his wife’s petition to receive it.” He sighed. “Anyways, I shall take my leave of you as well. But, as I said, do not hesitate to let us know if we can help.”
I nodded in gratitude. Though I wouldn’t trust them unconditionally, Queen Gertrude and Prince Lambert seemed capable enough.
Servants descended, and I was taken upstairs to my chambers and introduced to my new attendants, who were girls around my age. Apologies were made because a reshuffling of rooms had left me with the short stick. Queen Gertrude had only recently moved to the dowager’s chambers, and Inessa had been given the queen’s quarters, which were still cordoned off after her death. I made a mental note: As soon as possible, I’d try to see the queen’s quarters for myself. Inessa had dwelled there before her terrible death and descent into Bide. Perhaps there were clues, clues that might help me liberate her.
I recalled how miffed Queen Gertrude had been as she told Prince Lambert she was still rearranging her chambers. Clearly, she hadn’t been happy to relinquish the queen’s quarters to Inessa, an action that truly cemented her as the dowager and likely had been initiated by Aeric moving into the king’s quarters. Such a change made it undeniable that she was the past while Aeric was the future, and no one enjoyed having their power diluted.
Making admiring sounds, I surveyed the chambers. Mine were intended for high-ranking guests rather than royalty, so they were more modest, with no guardroom at the entry, but they were much larger and more opulent than my chambers at home.
A total of three rooms were mine alone, each one feeding into the next. The first one was a parlor with a seating area, which flowed into a dressing room with a copper tub and armoires bursting with clothing and accessories, then, finally, reached a bedroom with a frilly bed tucked into a niche in the wall. Mirrors, their surfaces veined with goldand mercury, formed the walls of the niche while blush draperies hung from the corners.
In honor of my arrival, a marzipan masterpiece sat on a small table. It had been molded into a floating castle. Spun sugar clouds formed the base, and gold-painted marzipan was shaped into fairy-tale turrets and drawbridges.
“We hope you like your accommodations, Your Highness,” said Decima, one of my new girls.
“It’s wonderful,” I said, slowly taking another trip from the back to the front. I smiled graciously, but my mind raced.
The keyhole at the main entrance was much too large. Anyone could listen easily. There were too many windows. Row upon row of them. They marched across the walls along the south side, letting in the unrelenting sunlight. I could see out, which was fine, but others could see in, which was not fine. Even the balcony had a low rail and no trellises, allowing for a clear sight line from outside. Everything was so … open. Exposed. As though the palace wished to purify its secrets with light and sterilize every shameful thought into nonexistence. The light warmed my shoulder and dazzled my eyes. I wished to claw it off.
“Please,” I said, “draw the drapes.”
“Your Highness?” Decima asked. She glanced at the other girls, and they exchanged confused expressions. “It’ll be too dark.”
“The candles can be lit.”
“In the middle of the day?” Decima objected.
My heart sank. I knew what I had to do. It was a tactic I had seen Father and Inessa employ endlessly among advisors, nobles, servants, and even so-called friends: Instill fear and authority through a show of power … and then buy affection immediately thereafter. I hated it, but I wasn’t naïve. Almost everyone in Acus thought I was their future queen. If I hoped to solicit information from people about Inessa’s death, I must demonstrate that I was a figure worth helping, either from fear of punishment or hope of reward.
