Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“ I would be glad to arrange an extra shipment of grain to the capital, My Lady,” the merchant droned, “however, my clients will require assurances that the threats to the city will not result in an uncompensated loss to their crops.”

Ciana nearly rolled her eyes. Yes, let’s allow an entire city under siege to starve. Wouldn’t want to record a loss on this season’s books.

“We can assure you, sir.” Delaynie sat forward at the table. “All steps are being taken to protect the city and its occupants. Whatever guarantees your clients need, we would be happy to make them.”

Ciana drummed a finger against her leg. At least Delaynie had her wits about her today.

“Yes,” she finally said, grabbing her fidgeting hand with the other. She forced a smile as she met the merchant’s stare. His dark eyes narrowed at the two women. “Whatever is necessary. We only want to keep the people of the city fed during this time of turmoil.”

The merchant regarded them both before he sniffed. “There are rumors floating about that the Queen Apparent is no longer in the city, abandoning Verith at its time of greatest need.”

Ciana stiffened, a whirlwind sweeping through her chest.

It wasn’t the first time one of these fat merchants had made suggestions about Mariah’s disappearance. It came up now in nearly every conversation, however few and far between they’d become.

And Delaynie, ever the practiced politician, gave the same answer every time.

“Rumors certainly spread like wildfire, good sir. But Queen Apparent Mariah is not yet coronated, and Queen Ryenne is more than capable of securing the city, as is her responsibility until the ascension occurs.” She gave the merchant a cool smile as icy as her tone.

The merchant grunted. “And why hasn’t the Queen Apparent been coronated? This must be one of the longest transitions Onita has seen.” He scratched his chin. “The people are anxious to see a strong queen on the throne once again. That they haven’t, well … many have begun to worry if there is an issue. With suitability.” He smiled wildly, revealing teeth stained by a life of excess.

“What are you suggesting?” Ciana demanded. The maelstrom in her heart spun faster, and she almost stood from her seat, almost leaped across the table.

She fucking hated these men and their opinions .

“I am sure the good sir is not suggesting anything untoward about our Queen Apparent. He wouldn’t dare be so brazen before members of Her Highness’s court.” Delaynie pinned him with her sharp, cutting stare. “Would he?”

The merchant lifted his hands in mock surrender but still wore his sour smile. “Of course, My Lady. I’m simply alerting you both to what is said amongst the common folk. I imagine it is stuffy up here, tucked away in your mountain palace, and I view it as an obligation to keep you informed.”

“Thank you for the gesture, sir,” Ciana ground out, not meaning a single word.

The merchant grinned wider and pushed back from the table.

“Well.” He rose from his seat, Ciana and Delaynie following suit. “It is always a pleasure meeting with you lovely young ladies. I must return to my offices. Expect correspondence from me in the next few days, detailing the amount of grain available and what securities we will require importing it to Verith.”

With one more greasy smile and nod, the merchant shuffled from the room, followed by the Guardsman who’d been stationed by the door, heavy oak slamming shut behind him.

Delaynie collapsed back into her chair with a huff, slouching into the seat, the perfect lady vanished. “I fucking hate that man.”

Ciana choked a meager laugh. “Just when you think they can’t get any worse.” She remained standing, twisting her hands, that cyclone in her gut beginning to spread into her limbs.

“Hey,” Delaynie murmured. Ciana turned to her friend, finding Delaynie’s ice-blue stare locked on her. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I … I don’t know.” Ciana slumped, returning to her chair and dropping her head into her hands. “I just hate this. All of this. This entire fucked up situation.”

Delaynie was silent for a moment. “Are you still upset with Sebastian?”

Sebastian . Gods, yes, Ciana was still furious with him. Her best friend—next to Mariah—and the person who perhaps knew her best, but he still had the audacity to tell her what to do and where to go.

He may be in command, but he didn’t command her . No man ever would again.

A soft hand touched Ciana’s shoulder. She peeked at Delaynie through her mass of curly hair.

“You should talk to him. He should be back from the Bay by now. You’re going crazy in this palace.” Delaynie glanced at the door, where the merchant had just vanished. “And I, for one, would relish a chance to get out and see the city again. If for the sole reason of seeing if the rumors that man spoke of really are running around out there.”

Ciana nodded. “I just feel so … useless here. I can’t force myself to care about everything else, when Mariah …” She inhaled a shaky breath. “When Mariah is still missing.” She clenched her jaw, fighting back the rush of frantic desperation.

She would give anything to be out there, searching for Mariah. To be anywhere but in this old, cavernous palace, wasting her days as the weeks turned to months.

Every day, the sense of comfort and safety she’d found there slipped further away. She’d never known those things before arriving in Verith; her entire life until that point had been filled with fear and suppressed trauma, evilness haunting her at every corner. Mariah gave her a home, a place to finally be herself and feel safe.

But with Mariah gone, the darkness of Ciana’s past had seeped in around the edges of her world. Shadows haunted her in the ancient halls, and her demons inched closer with each terrifying flicker of the lights.

Delaynie squeezed her again. “Talk to him again, Cee. Alone, this time. Make him see that we can do so much more out there than we can in here. That we aren’t helpless, and the risk is worth it if it means we can get Mariah back.”

Ciana met her friend’s fierce stare. She and Delaynie had grown so much closer these past weeks, leaning heavily on each other as the world grew darker.

Ciana nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

Ciana rapped her knuckles on the black oak door.

“Who is it?” A deep voice echoed through the wood, a voice thick with exhaustion and defeat.

“It’s me. Ciana. It’s Ciana.” She sighed. Smooth .

A pause answered her. Then footsteps. The door swung open, revealing a rather uncharacteristically haggard-looking Sebastian, brown hair tussled, weary dark circles under his hazel eyes.

He leaned heavily against the doorframe, running a hand through his hair. “Is everything alright?”

Ciana nodded. “Yes, everything’s fine. It’s just—” She looked around him. “Can I come in? I want to talk.”

“Of course.” He opened the door wider as he stepped back.

She brushed past him, catching the faintest scent of leather and whiskey. Her eyes settled on the half-full glass on his counter, at the uncorked decanter beside it.

She couldn’t say she blamed him.

Sebastian walked past her, picking up his glass. He shot her a sheepish look, just before taking a sip. “I’d offer you some, but I know you don’t like it.”

Ciana crinkled her nose. “It tastes like shoe leather.”

“Sweet, vanilla-flavored shoe leather. There’s a difference.” Sebastian’s lip twitched up into the faintest of smiles, and Ciana relaxed. Just a touch.

She took a deep breath. “I?—"

“I wanted to apologize. For the way I spoke to you the other day. That was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

Ciana blinked. “Thank you for apologizing. I know it’s hard right now. With … everything.”

He nodded, deflating. “I just want one fucking break, for one thing to go right. I want to get back to searching for Mariah. But I can’t abandon the city. And it’s tearing me apart, making that decision.”

“Well …” Ciana took a step closer, resting her hands on the counter. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took another deep inhale. “You and the others have to guard the Bay. But Delaynie and I … we hardly have any meetings anymore, and most days, we’re just standing around, waiting for the worst to happen. We are going insane , and we can help. Besides, there are rumors spreading in the city—about Mariah—and we think it could be helpful if we learned what those are and if they might lead to?—”

“Ciana.” Sebastian’s tone was quiet but firm. His face had fallen as she’d been speaking, his mouth now set in a grim, tired line. “Just because I apologized doesn’t mean my answer has changed. It’s not safe.”

Anger lit up Ciana’s chest, whipping through her blood. She straightened her spine, hands tightening into fists.

“You can’t tell me what is or isn’t safe. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Her voice grew louder as she spoke, tears threatening behind her eyes. “ No one gets to tell me what to do, not anymore. If I have to spend one more second in this palace, standing about like a helpless idiot, I … I …” Her hands shook, and she sniffed, a frustrated choke catching in her throat.

“You’re my best friend, Sebastian. You know how much I need to do this. Please .” Her voice cracked. “Please don’t lock me in here. Please let me help.”

Sebastian watched her, expression unreadable, the silence spreading between them thick and heavy. Ciana heaved her breaths, tears still running tracks down her cheeks. Sebastian released one long, tortured exhale, hanging his head, hair falling forward to hide his face.

“I’m not having this conversation again, Ciana. I’m not changing my mind.”

Ciana exploded.

“You have given up !” She stormed forward, shoving his chest. He took a stunned step back, nearly knocking over his glass. “At least let those of us who still care do something useful , instead of locking us up just so you can feel better!”

The second those words left her lips, Ciana knew she was wrong to say them. She didn’t believe them, not really. But she was so angry , and by the gods, he needed to see it.

Sebastian’s stare hardened. “I know how hard all of this has been on you, so I’m going to forgive you for that. But don’t you ever dare accuse me of not caring. You know I’m doing everything I can with what I’m dealt.”

“Not everything. You’re being a coward.”

“I refuse to be reckless. That’s what they want.”

Ciana whirled away from him, marching to the door. She yanked open the heavy wood.

She couldn’t speak. Her words were clogged by her anger. She needed to leave.

“Don’t leave the palace, Ciana. Please.”

“Fuck you.” The door slammed behind her, rattling the walls.

Ciana stormed through the halls, her steps kept company by her fuming mutterings.

A part of her, deep down, knew she was being irrational and self-centered. They were all coping with an unimaginable loss and an impossible situation, and Sebastian was doing the best he could.

Unfortunately, Sebastian’s best was forcing Ciana into her worst. She felt trapped, scared, vulnerable. This anger, this selfishness … it was all she could do, too.

Her steps took her winding through the gilded halls. She'd meant to head to her rooms, but she'd only peered down the brightly lit hallway and strode past it without hesitation.

Stagnation would be the worst possible thing for her now.

Ciana wound down a spiraling staircase, brushing her hand along the gilded walls before reaching the bottom and bursting into a lower courtyard.

And freezing in her steps.

Queen Ryenne stood alone in the courtyard, none of her Armature or ladies in sight, staring at Ciana as if she’d been waiting for her.

“Queen Ryenne,” Ciana said slowly, chest still heaving from her panicked flee through the palace. “I … I’m sorry to intrude.”

The aging queen smiled, skin crinkling around her ocean-blue eyes. “You are not intruding, Lady Visseau.”

Ciana shifted awkwardly. “I will … I’ll leave you alone, forgive me?—”

“You misunderstand, Lady Visseau. I do not wish to be left alone. I was waiting for you.”

Ciana lifted a brow. “Waiting … for me? Here?” The courtyard was one of the ones with a domed glass ceiling, trapping in heat and moisture and keeping out the brisk late winter air. Plants and trees with great leaves in the shape of massive fronds arched and brushed the glass and stone, flowering vines crawling up their trunks. “I wasn’t … I didn’t even mean to come here.”

Ryenne smiled. “You might not have meant to come, but I knew you would, regardless.”

This is very strange . “I’m not sure I understand, Your Majesty.”

“I may be old, Lady Visseau, and my magic may be all but gone, but I have a few tricks left to me still.” The old queen turned, gesturing to Ciana with a pale, splotched hand. “Come. Sit with me.”

Ciana obeyed, her rage now replaced by interested confusion. She’d never really interacted with Ryenne before, not beyond the few shared moments with Mariah and the others of Ryenne’s court. Ryenne was also absent from any governance meetings, leaving most of Ciana’s dealings, however fleeting, with Ryenne’s ladies instead of the queen herself.

Ryenne settled on a marble bench beneath a rich green frond, the shading dappling her pale gray hair. Ciana sat hesitantly beside her, twisting her hands in her lap as she stared at a pile of golden stones stacked by the spiraled trunk of a tree several feet away.

They sat there in silence for a long moment, Ciana daring hidden glances beneath her lashes at Ryenne. The queen was still, her blue eyes misty, gazing across the courtyard at nothing.

“I have been doing much thinking, these past several weeks. About my reign … and about how it shall end,” Ryenne said after what felt like an impossible eternity.

Ciana’s hands paused their anxious twisting. She slowly turned to face the queen; her shock written across her face.

“I don’t think I understand … Nothing can happen to you until there is a coronation, right?” Ciana hadn’t been the best in schooling—far from it, actually—but she remembered that there was some final, secret ceremony that happened at a new Queen’s coronation, some last transfer that conferred all Qhohena’s magic and carried the old queen to the afterlife.

Ryenne smiled sadly. “To my body, yes. I will linger on this earth until Mariah has made her seventh bond and is ready to ascend. But the formal transfer of power is not what I speak of.” She inhaled deeply. Her hands shook, brushing across the crushed velvet of her gown. “All of this … this entire situation we now find ourselves in. It is not what I planned, what I foresaw, but perhaps I should have.” Ryenne ducked her head, a curtain of grayed golden hair falling around her face, but not before Ciana caught what gleamed in the edges of her ocean-blue eyes.

Tears. The queen was crying.

Ciana hesitated.

For one fleeting moment, one in which Ciana was nothing more than a scared little girl afraid of the big world that had tried so hard to break her, she thought about running. It was what she was best at.

Then, the image of her best friend, her queen, leaped into her mind. The picture of Mariah on the Winter Solstice, pressing her bleeding palms to the panel of lunestair behind the throne, bridging ropes of silver-gold light from twin pillars together to form a dazzling display of power and magic. The feeling of allume thrumming through the earth, a knife slicing into Ciana’s palm, her own blood feeding the beautiful, cacophonous magic.

Ciana reached out a hand, resting it gently atop Ryenne’s. The queen stiffened, and with a shuddering inhale, straightened her shoulders.

But she did not wipe the tears from her eyes.

“All of this. The Royals and their reluctance to give up power, Ksee’s rejection of Qhohena’s will, Mariah’s capture, the faltering allume , the Kizar pirates playing their games … all of it is my fault. There would not be such strife if I had simply been strong enough to hold on to my power all those centuries ago. But I was not, and now here we are. A Chosen stolen, our lights and wards failing, our people in danger. Mariah’s reign shall begin with blood and pain, and it is all my fault.”

Ciana was silent for a moment. Not that she disagreed with the queen’s words; she would never voice the thought aloud, but from the second she’d heard from Mariah what Ryenne had done with her power, she’d felt betrayed and furious and shocked.

But Ciana had known that information for a long time now. Had been able to dwell on her feelings and think through what it truly meant.

“You know,” Ciana began, her hand still atop Ryenne’s. “A few months ago, I might’ve agreed with you. I would’ve told you that this was all your fault.” She inhaled deeply, expelling the air through her lungs. “But now … now I think it’s more complicated than that. I think whatever is happening, whatever led to Mariah’s kidnapping and the failing magic and the arrival of the pirates, has been brewing for a very, very long time. I don’t think the propensity of men—and some women—to take things they don’t deserve was born overnight. This is a malignancy that has festered for … well, maybe even since Xara’s time. Hidden, but still there, just beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to burn its way out.”

Ryenne shifted her gaze to Ciana as the young woman spoke, a curious expression spreading across her face. Ciana blinked once in surprise at the queen’s attention.

“You have known great pain in your life for someone so bright.”

Ciana started, her lungs freezing with her shock. She’d only told the stories of her past to three people: Mariah, Delaynie, and Sebastian. She didn’t believe one of them capable of sharing that history with Ryenne, but …

The queen chuckled. “Relax, Ciana. I do not know the details of your past. But I can see it—feel it in you. And the way you speak about an evilness that has always lurked beneath the surface … I have lived enough life to know when words are spoken from personal knowledge and not mere observation.” The queen turned to the sky. It was still day, but the sun was beginning its descent towards the horizon, shifting into the late afternoon.

“Mariah needs you. Even the Chosen of a goddess has her limits, and I worry what might happen if she reaches hers.”

Ciana followed Ryenne’s stare to the sky. “I want to find her. But …” She swallowed. “But Sebastian …”

“Let me guess. That Armature won’t let you leave the palace.” The queen turned. “They mean well. They are Marked, trained, and Selected to be protectors. But sometimes, there are things more important than our safety, and they struggle to see that.” Her blue eyes flashed. “Don’t be afraid to disobey. They can defend the city; you must find your queen.”

Ciana liked the sound of that.