Page 127 of Prize for the King
So I sigh and extricate myself, going to see Idrina instead. As I make my way through the keep, I feel odd, like something is not quite right. Then I realize—it’s the first time I’m without a guard.
The corridors aren’t overly busy this afternoon. It will be dusk in three hours, and everyone will rush to dinner in the hall downstairs, but now, most inhabitants seem to be busy elsewhere. I pass two women who I vaguely remember are related to one of the ministers, then a young boy with his nanny—some general’s grandson.
It’s my home, I remind myself. I should be safe here, yet I can’t help but search for menace in their eyes, contempt in their perfunctory bows. The back of my neck itches, and I keep looking over myshoulder, certain someone must follow me.
When I reach Idrina’s room, I push inside without knocking, and release a shaky breath of relief when the door closes behind me. My knights look up, all three spread all over the room. Arvi sits in an armchair, his legs crossed at the ankles on a footstool, while Raduna reads by the window, and Khay lies on the floor on his stomach.
Idrina sits in her usual armchair, looking uncharacteristically pleased—like an old cat that got a full bowl of cream.
When they see me, both Arvi and Khay jump to their feet, and Raduna surges toward me, almost knocking over a small table.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head. “N-nothing. I just walked fast.”
“But the meeting,” Raduna says with a frown. “Have you left? I was going to get you, just wanted to get a head start on this.”
I blink with confusion, finally laughing. “Oh, the meeting! We finished early. Magnar’s asleep, and I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I am so sorry,” Raduna says with contrition. “I should have instantly gone back, I just assumed…”
“Oh, sit down,” Idrina cuts in impatiently. “She’s fine, don’t you see? Now, come here, girl. You can’t read yet, but I’m going to show you some cues to look for. Ronan is your scapegoat, by the way. How did you know?”
“I just don’t like him,” I mutter, pulling up a chair to sit by her side.
She cackles, thumping her blanket-covered thigh. My knights sprawl out again, each with his own book, and I get a quick lecture on reporting omissions and numbers that don’t match. Mathematics is universal in our part of the world, so at least I can read the numbers.
“Prepare your argument before you try him,” Idrina says. “Take a week or two. Make them sweat.”
And so I do. I spend many days in the queen’s study, which isas austere as Magnar’s but smaller, and prepare for Ronan’s trial. When I pass him in the halls, I respond with cool nods to his sloppy, disrespectful bows. He doesn’t know he’ll die yet.
My knights help me, translating from law writs concerning the royal council. As the queen, I am the law, and yet that very law requires me to have a good reason for every beheading I order. I’m shocked to discover Agnidari regulations are far stricter than human laws in the Eleven. My father had absolute power and never had to justify himself to anyone.
Not so here. And so I fret over my speech, triple-checking everything with Idrina. If I fail, it will be entirely my fault. I haven’t involved Magnar, since he has other problems on his mind.
He does lend me a few soldiers, whom I use to follow trails under Idrina’s guidance. We must have a solid case, because everyone taking part in that trial will want to see me fail. And I can’t.
The beheading will be my responsibility. I won’t perform it myself—I get to push that dreadful duty onto one of my knights. But the decision is mine, and the consequences of it, also.
One cold, bright day, I seek out Arvi in the gardens at the back of the keep. Khay accompanies me there and leaves me in Arvi’s care by the ponds.
I look around, drawing the sides of my woolen coat tighter around myself. The wind is biting, and the leaden surface of the pond ripples with its chilly assault.
Arvi throws a knife at the water, his forehead lined with tension.
“How did you feel the first time you killed somebody?” I ask, fingering the sheath containing the small knife he once gave me as a reminder of my fighting spirit. I carry it on my belt. It’s probably useless as a weapon, but I find its weight on my waist comforting.
He shrugs without looking at me. “I threw up, felt numb for about a week. I was sixteen and stationed on the border. It was my firstserious mission after my training. A bunch of humans tried to sneak in, kidnap some of the women from a village nearby. We fought them. We won.”
Arvi’s mouth twists, and he throws another knife. I thought he was just sinking them, but now that I look closer, there’s faint movement below the surface. The water is clear, but the overcast sky makes it difficult to discern what’s there.
“Can you actually kill fish with a knife? Is that what you’re doing?”
He smiles grimly, eyes tracking the water. “I can, as can other well-trained Agnidari. It’s not easy—you have to account for water distortion, and the knife has to be sufficiently heavy. I don’t think humans could do that, they don’t have enough strength and speed. It’s mostly a useless skill these days, since we have better fishing methods. I train because I needed it once. Might need it again some day.”
He studies the water, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet. I hug myself against the cold.
“You know, I thought at first that simply ordering the kill yet not having to do it with my own hands will be easier, but I’m starting to believe the reverse is true,” I say with a sigh, staring at the line of trees in the distance.
