Chapter 7

The day had hardly begun when things took an unexpected turn. It turned out they didn’t need to hunt down the traitor as his own family turned him in.

Lord Harris Petturi, the son of the duke—whom she’d not seen since the day before while her mother lay dying—asked for an audience with the new queen. Ensconced in her new office, Avera grimaced when Gustav told her.

“Must I see him? I’ve endured quite enough fawning for one day.” She’d been hard-pressed to eat her midday meal given the numerous interruptions.

“He claims it’s about the murders,” Gustav murmured.

The statement piqued her interest. “Send him in.”

Lord Petturi entered. He appeared nervous, or so the tic by his eye implied. He wore fine clothing, if ill-fitting, on his lanky frame. At least he wouldn’t be there to put himself forth as a possible consort as he’d been long married with several children.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed deep. “Pardon my intrusion during this grievous time of mourning.”

Not in the mood to dance with words, Avera got straight to the point. “Lord Petturi, I’m told you know something about the assassins that felled my family?”

“I do.” A bead of sweat on his brow and his wringing hands showed his angst. It took him a moment to get the words out. “I know who hired them.” A pause saw him swallowing hard before he whispered, “It was my father.”

“The duke?” The queen’s personal advisor, the man who’d essentially run the country following the monarch’s orders. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” A low reply that had Gustav creaking as he shifted his position behind her seat.

Avera clenched her hands in her lap. “You have proof, I assume.”

Petturi nodded and the words came rushing out. “It began when I noticed large sums of coin missing from our coffers a few months ago. When I confronted my father, he claimed he’d used it for an investment. Only, he wouldn’t tell me in what.”

“That hardly makes him guilty,” she pointed out.

“There’s more.” The lord wrung his hands and stared at the floor.

“Go on.” Avera rose and stared out the window instead of at Lord Petturi as it seemed to make him twitchy.

“Over the past while, I noticed my father behaving oddly. Disappearing for hours, returning late at night, cloaked head to toe as if he didn’t want to be seen. I assumed he had a mistress who was blackmailing him when the money went missing. My mother would have been most devasted to find out her husband was dallying elsewhere. Given he kept taking funds from the coffers to the point we began to run short paying bills, I chose to follow him one night, determined to confront him and his mistress. Only, it turned out he wasn’t meeting with a woman, but a ship’s captain in a tavern.”

Gustav, who’d been silent until that moment, asked a sharp question. “This captain, was he Daervian or foreign?”

“Foreign, Grand Rook. Captain of a merchant vessel dealing in mostly silks and spices from Merisu. After seeing my father hand over a sack of coin, I confronted him and asked what he was doing as it seemed very suspicious. He said something to the effect that he was investing in our family’s future and that I’d soon see. Then the heinous murders happened.” The lord dropped his head and his shoulders hunched.

“You accused him?” Avera asked.

He shook his head. “Nay, Your Majesty, I never had the chance to ask for he was in the palace that entire day. However, his actions nagged at me, therefore I went into his office and dug around, hoping to find proof he hadn’t done what I suspected. I found nothing and I was in bed before he arrived home. This morning…” He paused. “This morning, I returned to his office to look again and noticed a loose floorboard. Upon prying it free, I found a box with missives inside. My father has been trading correspondence with the Assassins’ Guild in Saarpira.”

Gustav sucked in a breath. “He’s the traitor.”

Avera whirled from the window. “You have those notes?”

“I do.” Lord Petturi dug them out of a pocket and held them out to Gustav.

The rook glanced through them with a grim expression. “These are very damning.”

“I’m aware, sir.” Petturi looked utterly crushed. “He’s my father and I owe him my very life, but what he did… Murdering our queen, the heirs, even a baby…” he whispered.

“You do realize there is only one punishment for this kind of treason,” Avera spoke softly.

“I know, however, I had to come forth. Not just because his actions were wrong but to also pledge my loyalty to you, Majesty.” He dropped to a knee. “I swear, I knew not what he plotted. If I had, I would have stopped it. Our country was—is—prosperous because of the royal family. I don’t know what my father thought to accomplish. I have never had interest in a higher rank. Would never have wanted to be king.”

“What of your brothers?”

Lord Petturi snorted. “None of them are even fit to run our family business let alone a kingdom.”

“You did a very brave thing.”

“Not brave, the right thing,” Petturi corrected. “I just hope when you punish my family for my father’s actions, that you at least spare my children.”

“I can do more than that, Lord Petturi. So long as you speak the truth about not being aware, you and your family, mother, wife, children, even your brothers, will not face penalty. But your father will be hanged.” That was, he’d be punished after Avera asked—screamed—why? As duke, senior Petturi had been almost as powerful as the queen already. Blame his actions on greed, an ugly facet of humanity that led to horrible acts.

“Your Majesty is most benevolent. I swear you will not regret this,” Lord Petturi’s fervently replied.

“Where is your father now, milord?” Gustav asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The man shrugged. “I’m afraid I do not know. He’d left the house before I’d risen for the day.”

“I’ll find him,” Gustav promised.

“I’m sure you will,” Avera said. “But first, if you would, please escort Lord Petturi to the dining hall and ensure he’s given refreshment before you depart to arrest the former duke.” She gave Gustav a look and the rook nodded in understanding. Petturi junior would be detained on the off chance he had a change of heart and warned his father to flee.

“If milord would come with me.” Gustav held open the door but before he closed it, he glanced back at Avera. “I will leave four guards outside this door. Majesty is not to leave this room until my return.”

“And if you don’t come back, am I to wither away?”

“I will return with the traitor,” he promised.

Gustav technically did, with a corpse at any rate. It would appear the former duke realized his plotting had been uncovered and hung himself in his stable before the Grand Rook’s arrival. A pity because a public execution would have done much to boost the people’s spirits. Morbid, and yet there was a savage satisfaction in seeing criminals, especially murderers, get their due.

The bright spot? With the traitor uncovered and dead, not only did people stop whispering she might have done it, Avera started to relax. The threat had been uncovered. No need to be so vigilant.

Not according to Gustav who claimed it seemed too easy. Avera agreed but at the same time, worried about letting paranoia control her. Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

Except for that short excursion into the city, Gustav remained glued to her side, although he did allow her to sleep alone at night after checking every cabinet and cranny in her room and setting not just a pair but four knights outside her door.

The next few days after the traitor’s death were a blur filled with funeral preparations. The sendoff for her mother would be elaborate given the queen had been well-loved by her people. Despite Avera being shunned by her siblings, she didn’t shirk on their funeral rites, and she ensured they were accorded much ceremony and pomp.

To Avera’s surprise, she shed a few tears as the barges of wood were pushed out onto the Lake of Tears. Those last moments with her mother had given her something she’d never expected: the love she’d always wanted. She only wished they could have had a chance to truly have a relationship.

After the funeral, life as the queen truly began even as her tiara ceremony hadn’t yet occurred. As per tradition, it wouldn’t happen until the following week, but that didn’t stop the visitors from arriving early or the seamstress from bullying her about fittings. Avera had begun to dread seeing Violette with her measuring tape and tin of pins. Avera had to gently remind the seamstress that she preferred a simple gown, not something with waves of frothy skirts and a too-tight bodice. Her sisters and mother might have favored those, but Avera liked to breathe. Already her wardrobe had been subtly adapted, her worn and comfortable gowns replaced with richer fabrics and slightly more ornate designs.

A few days after the funeral, Gustav said, “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” she asked.

“To stop hiding in your office.”

She wanted to refute his claim only she had been. “Not hiding, working.” Trying to grasp the current state of Daerva, reading all the documents that arrived daily wanting the queen’s attention.

“There’s more to work than signing things.”

A nudge that led to Avera holding her first audience where she sat on the uncomfortable throne as lords and ladies gave her condolences and pledged fealty before the coronation.

Despite Duke Petturi having taken his own life, Gustav remained hypervigilant, and his paranoia proved contagious. It led to Avera wondering, had the former Duke worked alone? The notes seemed to indicate he’d involved no one else, but what had been his ultimate goal? And how had the assassins managed to make it to shore? Someone either helped them or turned a blind eye.

That line of thinking led to her demanding a meeting with Admiral Venne who handled their fleet of ships, a pompous man with so much white hair even his ears sprouted tufts.

“Majesty. You called for me?” Admiral Venne’s bow proved shallow, and his demeanor less than pleased at being summoned.

“Admiral, thank you for coming. Given recent circumstances, I’d like to see an increase in patrols of our shoreline,” Avera stated.

“Why?” Venne bluntly inquired.

“Because the assassins somehow entered our country unseen.”

“Most likely via the port on a foreign vessel.”

“A possibility,” she agreed, “However, what if they didn’t?”

“How else would they have entered Daerva?”

“Could be they did so via the cliffs.”

Venne harrumphed saying, “Only a fool would try to climb those.”

“Or someone well-paid and trained,” she countered. “Hence why I want an increased naval presence around Daerva.”

“It’s a waste.”

She leaned forward on her desk and eyed him firmly. “This isn’t a request. You will increase the patrols, or I’ll appoint a new admiral who will.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” While Venne did acquiesce, he also grumbled, “However, might I suggest if you’re worried about foreigners entering undetected, you should probably be talking to the portmaster. Rumor has it Loomis has greasy palms.”

“I am already aware and will be handling that matter. You have your orders, Admiral.”

With a disgruntled salute, Venne left, and Avera only needed to give Gustav a quick glance for him to know what she wanted.

The portmaster was summoned.

Lord Juno Loomis, who ran the nearby and largest port title in Horizon’s End, apologized upon meeting her. He was still bent over in a bow as he exclaimed, “I swear those killers didn’t come in through my docks, Your Majesty. My agents are very thorough at ensuring only people with proper papers disembark.”

Avera raised a brow. “You’re claiming they can’t be bribed?”

The portmaster met her gaze and blanched. “Perhaps a little, but not for anything that would ever harm Daerva.”

“And what do you consider harmless?”

Apparently, Lord Loomis smuggled in alcohol to resell without declaring it or paying any tax. Dishonest, but not a hanging offense, so she let him off with a warning once they confiscated the crates of it in his home. They’d serve it at her coronation.

Horizon’s End, however, was only one of two entry points. Seaserpent Bay, on the opposite side of their continent, proved trickier to contact. The portmaster there, even the dock workers, might have been persuaded to let in the assassins given their lack of traffic since Verlora went dark. While she knew from the ledger that her mother had been sending them funds to keep it running, poverty had a way of making people, even good ones, shed their morals in favor of survival.

Given Avera couldn’t leave to question the portmaster in Seaserpent Bay herself, Gustav dispatched a pair of knights he trusted to investigate. The delay of a reply chafed, though. It would take a week to get there and a week back. If the knights found any guilty parties, then they had an edict signed by her giving them the authority to arrest the culprit.

Now to wait for their return and report.

As the coronation approached, even more lords and ladies arrived from all over the continent. They showed up at the palace with gifts, trying to curry favor, some of them quite lavish and useless like the slippers with heels to make a woman taller. Why would she want to totter around? Avera kept being introduced to bachelor sons of all ages, including a twelve-year-old boy who made her uncomfortable as he flattered with practiced words. She even had widowed lords with children her age trying to pay her court.

Appalling and tiresome. It led to her grumbling to Gustav, her only confidant, “I might take a consort just to stop the blatant attempts at matchmaking.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” he asked rather than scoffing.

“Depends. Does it have to be a lord?”

“It would be unusual to choose otherwise but not without precedent,” he admitted. “Your great-grandmother ended up marrying a rook.”

“Meaning I could choose you.”

Gustav recoiled so fast he almost fell. “My queen! I am much too old, not to mention involved with someone.”

“Calm yourself. I am jesting. Although, it would solve my problem. You could still bed your paramour and I could get on with ruling this kingdom.”

“But what of an heir?” Gustav reminded.

“This sudden obsession with children from my womb is really annoying. No one cared before.”

“Because before we had numerous heirs.”

“And what if I birthed an idiot?” Avera retorted.

“I’m sure it would be no worse than your brother.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Perish the thought.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you can think of a lord I could tolerate?”

“Not in Velunda. Many of the lords in our capital are soft from city living. Given the recent troubles, I’d recommend a strong consort. One who could act as your guard in private.”

“A fighter, eh…” A husband who could wield a blade and defend. An interesting idea.

“Alas, I don’t know of any lords with that kind of skillset, but then again, I am not familiar with those outside the capital.”

“Meaning this pilgrimage of mine should be done sooner than later.” While Avera didn’t truly want a husband, she did want to put a stop to all the puffed-out chests and boring monologues about how long their family had served, how loyal they were, how well connected.

“You must do the tiara ceremony first.”

She waved a hand. “Fine. But once I’m crowned, we’ll depart immediately.”

“And who will run things while you’re gone?” Gustav asked. “You haven’t yet appointed a new duke.”

“Must I?” Avera failed to hide the whine at yet another thing she had to handle.

“Someone has to make decisions when you’re absent. You’ll want to choose someone who won’t undermine your rule.”

“Only that?” she sarcastically stated. “And how am I supposed to select that person when I barely know anyone? Keep in mind, most of these people currently simpering in my presence never spoke to me before the death of my family. I know no one and trust no one but you. Want to be Duke?”

“No.” A firm refusal. “But I might know someone that would suit.”

“Who?”

“Lady Josslyn Druuven, a widow just slightly older than you. She has no children, and from what I understand, no intention of remarrying anytime soon. As the last of her line, she is wealthy and so not easily bribed.”

“But can she ensure things run smoothly while I’m gone?”

“She is strong of character. Not easily pushed around. Firm but fair.”

“High praise.”

“The truth,” said Gustav with a roll of his shoulders. “Meet with her. See what you think.”

Since Avera valued Gustav’s opinion, she had the lady fetched. She arrived at Avera’s office promptly. The new queen sitting behind the desk in a chair she’d had swapped from the one that reminded her of her mother. It helped her feel like less of an intruder.

“Your Majesty.” As Lady Josslyn curtsied, Avera took her measure. Elegant in a simple gown of blue, her blonde hair tied back in a braid, the lady appeared barely older than Avera.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Avera stated.

Chin held high, eyes bright and curious, Lady Josslyn took in the space then Avera herself who also wore a simple gown with no frivolous nonsense. The lady tilted her head. “Of course, Your Majesty. How may I be of assistance?”

“By being honest. I’m going to be blunt and ask, how are you at running things and keeping people in line?”

Josslyn blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“My understanding is your home is well kept.”

“Well, yes.” She looked confused.

“I also hear that your family orchards produce a very good wine.”

“They do.”

“And you’re involved in that?”

“Yes…” A slower, drawn-out reply. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I need someone competent to oversee the palace, the city, and any issues that might arise while I go on my pilgrimage after the coronation.”

The lady stared at Avera “Isn’t that the duke’s job?”

“Yes, but as you might have heard, I’m currently without one.”

Josslyn’s lips pinched. “Appalling what Petturi did. Pity he took the cowardly way out. I’d have liked to have seen him drawn and quartered.”

“Me, too. Anyhow, given the position is vacant, I’m seeking a replacement, someone not easily intimidated who can snap out orders and make sure they’re followed. Who won’t lose their head in a crisis. Who can’t be bribed or flattered into giving concessions. And of course, isn’t plotting to kill me. You were recommended to me.”

“By whom?” she blurted.

“My Grand Rook, Gustav.”

“That ornery ass,” she huffed.

Avera arched a brow. “You know him, I take it.”

“Did he happen to mention he’s my brother?”

It was Avera’s turn to stare. “No, he did not. I wasn’t aware he had family.” Then again, she’d never asked. The rooks, those carefully elevated from the rank of knight to directly serve the royals, severed their family connections when they received their commission. They dropped their family name and gave up all inheritance rights.

“We’re only half-siblings. I’m the result of Father’s second marriage. Given he already had heirs for his estate, when my mother died, as the only one left of her line, her family fortune came to me.”

“I need someone I can trust. Gustav suggested you, and I will be honest, I don’t really have any other options. Will you do it?” Avera bluntly asked. “Will you be my Duchess?”

Josslyn didn’t immediately say yes. Her lips pursed as she mulled it over. “It is a big task running a country. The amount of work would likely mean no more visits to my vineyard.”

“Only temporarily while I’m gone. Upon my return, we could ensure a schedule whereupon you could continue your work.”

“People won’t like it. Traditionally, the crown chooses a male for the role.”

“But it’s not a rule,” Avera pointed out.

“True. However, I feel like I should point out it will most definitely ruffle some and bring out belligerence in others.”

“Are you not capable of putting them in their place?” was Avera’s tart retort.

Josslyn’s lips curved. “That’s never been a problem, but the result will be some petulance that might turn into those unhappy whining to you.”

“I can assure you they’ll get no sympathy from me. I never realized how petty the lords and ladies could be.”

“You’ve lived amongst them your whole life.”

“Ignored for the most part,” was Avera’s wry rejoinder. “I miss those days.”

“I assume you would want an immediate start?”

“Or as soon as is feasible. I understand you might need time to delegate some tasks in order to take on this challenge.”

“I already have competent people in place so I could start shortly, but I don’t know if I even want the responsibility.”

“Would you feel better if we called it a trial run?”

“Maybe.” The lady tapped her lower lip. “You say you’d be leaving after the coronation in a few days. How long would you be gone?”

“Gustav seems to think we could complete the royal tour in about a month.”

“A month? It takes a carriage two weeks just to go to Seaserpent Bay unless you’re planning to skip it.”

“No, I’m visiting everywhere, but by horse, which is much faster.”

“Horse?” Josslyn’s eyes widened. “What of your luggage?”

“Not planning to bring much.” Avera’s lips quirked. “Have I mentioned I’m not very traditional about certain things?”

“So I’m beginning to see.” Josslyn cocked her head. “May I think upon it?”

“Yes. I understand this is quite the undertaking, especially since I don’t know what I’m doing.” Probably not the thing to admit.

“Neither did I when I inherited. Sometimes that works in our favor as tradition isn’t always the best method.”

“Agreed!” Avera exclaimed. “I do hope you’ll say yes as I need someone, but thus far, everyone I’ve spoken to is either about flattering me endlessly or trying to marry me off to a family member. I need honesty, even if it’s not pleasant. Someone I can count on.”

“You’ve given me much to think about, Your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Avera.”

“I couldn’t. Do you know what people would say?” Josslyn exclaimed.

“I don’t really care, but I guess you might. So how about in private you drop the formalities?”

A smile ghosted Josslyn’s lips. “I think that could be done. Avera.”

There was something about hearing her name that lightened her spirit. “Feel free to drop by if you have questions, or to accept my offer.”

“I just might. You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, really. No one seems to have a firm grasp of you. It’s as if you didn’t exist until you became queen. I’ve heard you called a dowdy mouse, which is obviously untrue. A shrill harridan, which again doesn’t seem likely.”

“You forgot murderous bitch, conniving harlot, and evil changeling.”

Josslyn’s eyes widened and Avera offered a rueful smile. “I’m well aware of what people think of me. Here’s to hoping I can change some of their minds.”

“And if you can’t?”

Avera shrugged. “Nothing. I can’t control other people’s thoughts, only my own actions.”

“You sound like my brother.”

Avera snorted. “Where do you think I learned that motto from?”

At that, Josslyn smiled. “It was nice to meet you… Avera.”

“Likewise. I hope to hear from you soon.”

As the lady opened the door, she tossed over her shoulder, “Most likely you shall. But first, I need to smack my brother.”

And she meant that quite literally.

Gustav stepped away from the door when it opened. Not far enough. Josslyn immediately cuffed him then huffed, “You didn’t tell her I was your sister!”

The usually stoic rook ducked his head, looking sheepish for a rare instant. “I wanted her to meet you and not choose you simply because we’re related.”

“You’re an idiot. Which reminds me, you haven’t been by for dinner in ages.”

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Get unbusy. And bring the queen if you can’t leave her side.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted his sister.

She shook her head before leaning up to buss him on the cheek. “Be careful, you big idiot.”

The affection between them caused something in Avera to ache. How she would have loved the same relationship with her siblings, but they’d only ever looked at her with disdain, if at all.

She could have blamed her mother, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t have mattered. The age gap and differences between them were too great and lamenting about it wouldn’t change the past. She could only look ahead and hope for a husband who might actually like her. To children she would love. To a future where she would forge the family she always desired.

If she lived that long.