Chapter 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

TRESSYA

Radnisa was a thorn embedded in my skin, but thorns could be removed. In Radnisa's case, it took silent patience before she grew bored of her own acid voice. She finally left me alone in my room, departing in a cloud of fury, robbed of her chance to gloat over my impending disgrace within my father's court on the return voyage to Merania.

I rose from my bureau once the sound of Radnisa's departing steps no longer echoed in the corridor. "Deliah, you can come out now." I'd seen her through my mirror, darting in and out of my bedroom during Radnisa's tirade, as if she feared Radnisa might see her and turn her vengeance onto the spirit.

"Thought she'd never leave," Deliah groused as she materialized before me.

"She's only poisonous to the living, so you needn't hide from her. Radnisa is not one of the lucky few to possess my talent."

"I need to ask you a few questions." I crossed to my bed and patted a space beside me, which was ridiculous, but Deliah approached and settled down where I'd indicated, her body slipping beneath the cover, so her head was level with my shoulder.

"Glad you changed the king's mind. I was hopin' you'd do it."

"Thanks to a friendly trio of spirits, I had information that proved valuable to him. Though, Orphus played a part in persuading the king, which makes me uneasy."

"That prick. I don't understand why he'd help you. You need to shake him off."

"I agree. But he's not who I want to talk about. I'm interested in Queen Gusselan. Tell me everything you know about her."

"She hates the king."

"Common in royal marriages. Where's she from?"

"She came across the sea. Like you. Place called Avaloria. Home of the Levenians, or so I 'eard. Somewhere there anyhow."

I sucked in a breath. "She's Levenian?"

"So the story goes."

"You're aware she's being poisoned?"

Deliah nodded. "Not really my concern."

"Why aren't the Salmun doing something about that? I thought they were Levenian pets?"

She snorted a laugh. "Pets, sure." She nodded, appreciating my analogy. "They only care about protecting the throne."

"The queen has played her part in birthing two heirs, and now she's expendable." Despite her threats, I felt sympathy for her. It wasn't hard to see myself in her shoes, loathed by my husband, discarded once my duties were fulfilled.

"Do you know anything about the mark on her right wrist? What does it represent?"

"Didn't know there was one. I lived a long time ago," Deliah intoned, her interest in our conversation waning.

"Do the Levenians have any abilities, or is it just their pets, the Salmun?"

She shrugged. "Why you askin' this stuff? I dunno. The war was long old even when I was alive. I know nothin' 'bout them."

I swallowed my frustration. Deliah wasn't the right person for this conversation.

"What else can you tell me about the queen?"

"What does it matter? She'll be gone soon."

"That's the problem. I don't want her gone." As a disciple, I should end her life myself given I suspected she belonged to a secretive order. Why else would she have been made queen? But if the Levenians didn't have any special abilities, perhaps she wasn't a threat to the Mother's plans for the Tannard throne.

"You should. She's been makin' plans against you."

I couldn't mask my surprise. It wasn't the revelation of the queen's machinations that astounded me, but the fact Deliah waited until now to reveal them. I swallowed any retorts and instead inquired. "What are those plans?"

"She's been talkin' to that stuck-up bitch Juel favored."

"Lady Astaria?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What plots have they concocted?"

"Well, it ain't me who knew 'bout it. It's that dumbass Truett 'eard it all."

"And what did Truett tell you?"

"Nothin'. I try not to talk to 'em. I stay away from the three of 'em as best I can, but eternity is a long time. It ain't easy. I over 'eard him."

I took a breath before I spoke. "So what did Truett have to say."

"The heirs 'ave to be careful, you see. No spreading their seed. It's been like that forever 'cause they don't want bastards all over the place claiming a right to the throne."

"That would tip the scales to rebellion. But in all this time, there hasn't been any slip ups?"

She shrugged. "Who knows. I don't care what babies they 'ave. Got nothin' to do with me. Makes no difference to me if 'em lot are wiped from the throne. I'd be glad for it."

I rose from the bed and paced. "The queen wanted Lady Astaria to bear Juel a child."

"'Em Salmun would make sure that doesn't happen."

"But that was the plan, right?" I didn't wait for her to reply as I continued to pace, pouring through possible malicious schemes. "She either wanted to replace me with Lady Astaria?—"

"Swap the babies."

I pivoted to face her. "Truly? That would require impeccable timing, which seems impossible." My curiosity regarding the queen's audacity overshadowed any anger I might have felt. As Juel was no longer alive, my position as wife and mother wasn't mine to defend any longer. I could thank my luck for that; hardly a loyal thought for a disciple, but it was the truth.

Once more, Deliah shrugged. I could see her attention drifting from our conversation.

"How would she achieve that under the Salmun's watchful gaze?"

Another shrug was her sole response.

"So, who's poisoning her? The king or the Salmun? I would think the Salmun would employ more direct methods."

"The Salmun are a secretive lot. Nothin' they do is understood. It's the king. I'm sure. The queen lost his love and protection a long time ago."

"Do you mean the king, or are you suggesting her family in Avaloria no longer provides protection?"

"What would I know or care?" She rose from the bed.

"Might the trio of spirits have more information about the queen?"

She shrugged, telling me it was time to stop my questioning. "Thanks. You've been helpful."

"Really?" She seemed taken aback.

"Was there something you wanted? Is that why you appeared?"

She shook her head. "Curious. That's all. Truett said you had some secret in your favor."

"It seems gossip amongst spirits is as widespread as it is amongst the living."

"He says you got the king to kick all his men from the throne room."

"He's been prying."

She snorted an unladylike laugh. "You're fascinating. We can't help it."

Just what I needed—a horde of pesky spirits shadowing me. It was time I honed my skill in the death arts to fend off their intrusiveness.

I headed for my door. "Thanks, Deliah." Without waiting for her reply I swept out of my room. Of course she followed me, popping through the wall beside me, keeping pace as I hurried off down the corridor.

"Where you goin'?"

She was becoming a little too familiar, gliding close so I felt the beginnings of the haunting ice chill I always felt when touched by spirits. My skin pebbled just thinking of the horrible feeling, but I didn't want to offend her by asking her to keep her distance. Instead, I picked up my pace, which was a useless endeavor.

"I need to speak with someone."

"Who?"

I turned the corner, ignoring the grand sweeping stairwell and strode onwards to the southern wing of Emberfell.

"'Ere. This is the king's side of the castle."

Staying silent, I picked up my pace. A race with a spirit felt ridiculous.

"What you doin' this side?"

Deliah left me behind when I stopped. She doubled back and wafted in front of me while I tried to find polite words to say. Pressing my palms together, I took one breath. "Please, Deliah. I'm asking you for some privacy. Can you do that for me?"

"What for?"

"A private matter."

"What 'bout?"

I inhaled. "Nothing interesting or important."

"Why's it private then?"

Curses. Not even Radnisa could help me develop my new found skills in the death arts. Unfortunately, I had little time to dedicate to perfecting the skill.

"Didn't you ever want privacy when you were alive?"

She shrugged. "Don't remember."

"I'm sure you did. Everyone?—"

Her eyes widened. "You gonna see her, ain't you?"

I pinched the bridge of my noise.

She gasped. "You gonna kill her."

I walked around her in a wide arc. "No."

"Yeah, you are. 'Em lot won't believe me."

"Deliah." I spun on her. "This is a private matter, remember?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Private." She pressed her lips together as she wafted backward, away from me.

I strode toward her, instinctively reaching out to grab her hand, then snapped it back when the ice tingles reminded me of what I would suffer if I dared touch her. "Deliah. Don't tell the others." I warned with my firmest tone, which failed to quell her smirk.

Curses to her. I focused inward, gathering my concentration, reaching for my soul word, thinking that would be the secret link to spiritweaving. But Deliah vanished before I could even graze the power of Aetherius.

"Damn it," I hissed, spinning on my heels and marching down the long corridor.

The echoing thud of my boots on the stone floor slowed my pace. The oppressive silence when I stopped felt like a vice grip on my shoulder. I refused to glance back. Instead, I picked up my pace, striding past the king's quarters. Gilded edges adorned the doors, and a faint scent of wood oil wafted from the gaps into the corridor.

Beyond Henricus's rooms, the corridor darkened. The intermittent flambeau, held by elaborate iron sconces on either side, cast an eerie glow, elongating and contorting my shadow behind me. Ahead, sporadic light created shadowy alcoves concealed behind massive stone arches.

The entrance to the queen's quarters lay ahead, the only door remaining in this hallway. My visit here was more out of curiosity than anything else. Given I no longer had a tie to the throne—traitorous as it was to my duties, I couldn't help but rejoice at the fact—I was no longer a threat to her, but I doubted she would surrender any of her secrets. Still, I had to try.

Upon reaching her door, I paused to collect myself. The woman had just lost her son; I wasn't seeking confrontation, but I was eager to learn anything I could about her. Her ancestry, her probable links to another order, all left me hungry to know the woman behind the title of queen.

"The little squirrel was right," Borrat said from beside me.

I jumped on hearing his voice so close to my ear.

"Is there to be another death in the House of Tannard?" Truett inquired.

I groaned, knowing there was little point telling them all to scram. I turned to face Truett and Borrat. "I'm new to the skill of spiritweaving, but once I get the hang of it, I'll send you two to the dungeons every time you interfere in my day without suitable warning."

"Is she threatening us?" Albert remark from behind.

I rolled my eyes on hearing his voice.

"The audacious little hoyden has the insolence to threaten us," he continued.

"Gentlemen, please," I implored.

"Now she wishes to be amicable,' Truett mocked. "Too late, my queen. Oh, pardon me, that is not your title yet, and it never will be."

Ignoring them, I grasped the door handle, deciding not to waste my time with the spirits, but before I could turn it, Borrat warned, "She spoke against you to the king the moment you arrived."

I stilled my hand on the handle. "Why would she do that? Our first meeting was in the carriage during the king's procession."

"She has an ally," he continued.

"Enough, fool! We agreed not to assist her," Albert interjected. "Like any woman, she possesses a duplicity of spirit. On one hand steadfast as a towering oak, on the other fickle as desert sands. We must remember all are born with a conniving soul."

"No," Borrat retorted. "You told us not to help her. Truett and I never agreed."

"Good gracious, man. Are you such an ignoramus?—"

As their bickering persisted, I slipped into the dim room, gently closing the door behind me. Pressed against the wall, I inhaled the musty air of illness, thankful the spirits hadn't followed. After ensuring they'd left me be, I ventured deeper into the chamber.

A slither of light filtered through a gap in the drapes and ran along the rug and stretched across the bed, revealing the queen's form lying on her side.

"Merrilda?" a feeble voice inquired from the bed.

I approached the window and pulled the drapes further apart, casting more light into the room. Silhouetted against the backdrop of another cloudy day, I gazed down at the barren courtyard below. Emberfell had no beauty to offer. Only a few skeletal trees, long stripped of their leaves, stood as proof of life.

"You," the queen murmured weakly.

"You need more light, to begin with," I replied.

From the shadows, her muffled voice came. "Leave me be."

Ignoring her plea, I approached the bedside table. I poured and sniffed the contents from a pitcher. It reeked of cheap, sour wine. I promptly disposed of it out the window.

"From now on, you'll drink only what I provide: quality wine. But you can't survive on wine alone. I will ensure you're served water as well. The king shall never know."

"What are you doing?" she mumbled.

I returned to her bedside. "You'll be given wine worthy of the king's table and fresh water boiled to purity. Is Merrilda the one caring for you?"

The queen remained silent, her eyes hidden in the gloom.

"She'll be dismissed. Clearly, she's been feeding you poisoned food."

"No. Merrilda stays," she insisted.

Crossing my arms, I stared down at her. "Then it's neither the food nor drink."

Slowly, she rolled onto her back, exhaling wearily. "Why would a disciple concern herself with me? I have nothing to offer."

Straightening her bedding, I mused, "Maybe I'm driven by reasons more nuanced than duty."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Is Merrilda your ally?" I said.

"I don't know what you mean?"

I smoothed more of the bedcovers flat. "I mean did she travel with you from Levenia?"

She remained silent.

"I've been asking about you. Though my source wasn't as helpful as I'd hoped. Is Merrilda the one who revealed my identity?"

Again, she chose silence, so I eased myself down on the side of her bed. "I'm no longer your enemy. I have no claim to the throne. Andriet is to marry another."

And I had no choice but to kill his bride. Duty to the Mother came before all else. If that's so, why are you protecting your greatest enemy?

I rose from the bed, uncomfortable with how that thought made me feel.

"The serpent who arrived with you. Did she tell you?" She hesitated.

"Radnisa wouldn't tell me if I asked. Don't worry, I also struggle to find any nice words to describe her most of the time." For a moment I forgot about my self-appointed job of tidying her bed and took a moment before I next spoke. "I'm sorry about your son."

She inhaled sharply. "You don't mean that."

"While I won't mourn him, any mother's loss pains me. I played no part in his demise. The wound was such that even with the king and his men, he stood no chance."

I sucked in my cheeks. Bloodwyn, was another thorn in my skin, but one I was too weak to remove. Mostly because the thorn felt good lodged inside of me.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. Such traitorous thoughts for a disciple. Since when had I become so weak?

Queen Gusselan rolled her head away from me. When she next spoke her feeble voice was muffled by her pillow. "You used your voice power to make him slice his leg." I still heard every word.

It was a stunning accusation. Would I have dared come up with such a plan? It would mean a terrible betrayal to the Mother. I couldn't give a definitive answer, but deep down suspected I was capable of such a thing given he deserved no better end. "In all sincerity, I did no such thing. Marrying him was my duty."

She met my gaze once more. "And we can't deny our duty." Was that bitterness in her voice?

"You can't disagree you controlled the king with your voice. It's why you remain in Tarragona."

"No," I replied, resuming my task of tidying her bed. "I don't have that power. I have yet to master it." Secrecy and discretion, I disobeyed two of the Sistern's six pillars in one reply. Where was my head? Where was my loyalty? Lost along with my emotions in the graveyard. That bloody Razohan was twisting my devotion to the Sistern.

Only, right now I felt a strange connection with the queen. She too was a woman bowing to duty, and her remittance was her life.

Her laughter was a raspy cough.

She shifted her gaze to the bed canopy. "What more does your Mother want of you?"

"I chose not to question the Mother's motives. But I'm curious. You knew about me from the time of my arrival, why did you not reveal me to the king, or the Salmun?"

She continued to gaze up at the canopy as if she never heard me."Until my youngest's bride bears an heir you're still a threat."

"Not to him. Never. I'm very fond of Andriet."

The queen lowered her gaze and watched me while I made my way around the end of the bed, smoothing my hand across the top until it was crease free. Once I'd finished with that task, I cast a look around for something else I could fuss on, not willing to meet her gaze. Neither did I want to acknowledge my reasons for staying here. It amounted to another betrayal toward the Sistern. Befriending another from a different order. I obviously wasn't thinking straight. Damn you Bloodwyn.

"I find that hard to believe. Duty isn't a choice," she said.

"Spoken like a true disciple. Is that what you consider yourself or does your order have another name for its faithful?"

She closed her eyes as if to shut me out, which was the best she could do given her fragility.

"We are the same, you and I. Both sent from our homes to marry someone we didn't love."

She sighed. "It was a privilege to be chosen."

I slid down onto the end of the bed. "In all honestly, I struggled to feel the same. The Mother chose me above all my sisters. That was a privilege." Not because she believed in me . I unconsciously rubbed at the old wound on my chest. "It was hard to say goodbye."

"I don't believe it. A disciple claiming love."

"Attachment, maybe." It felt wrong to say so, like I was betraying Carlin and everything he had meant to me, but my life in Merania felt distant to me now.

I sucked in a breath when my thoughts drifted to Bloodwyn again. Don't pollute Carlin's memory with him .

"If you lack power, why did she choose you?"

"You need to offer me something in return if I'm to answer you." I fought against a smile at how familiar this exchange felt, then dropped my smile when I realized how much of our conversation led me to think of Bloodwyn because he was always in my head. I had to do something about that.

"I don't know why you're bothering," she whispered.

"Let's not take this conversation in circles. It's obvious why the mother sent me here. You've already guessed that."

"The king is not poisoning me."

That surprised me. "The Salmun?"

"It's not poison. You can't save me from my fate."

I rose and came around to stand beside her bed. "You're Levenian. I don't understand."

"You know nothing of Levenia. My order gives fealty to King Ushpia." She inhaled as she closed her eyes. "Enemy to King Bezhani."

I waited for her to catch her breath. When she didn't continue, I did it for her. "The Salmun give fealty to King Bezhani?" I knelt beside her bed. "They didn't realize your connection to the enemy monarch before you were sent across as bride to Henricus. But now the Salmun know."

She stared at me, her eyelids drooping, then she blinked herself alert again.

"Why did your order want you to marry the king of Tarragona?"

"Why did yours?"

I sucked in my bottom lip, holding back the words that would end my loyalty to the Mother. It was silly. Gusselan knew the reason. It was the same reason her order sent her. They wanted one of theirs connected to the Tarragona throne. "Why is everyone interested in the Tarragonan throne?"

"Not the Tarragonan throne. The Bone Throne."

I sat back on my heels.

"I fear the Salmun were behind Juel's death. I fear for Andriet," she said.

"It was an accident. It would leave the Tarragona throne without an heir. They wouldn't risk that."

She exhaled long and slow. "Yes. You're right." Her voice was weak.

"I should leave you to sleep."

Without thinking, I laid my hand on top of hers. Her eyes fluttered open.

"I want to find a way to help you. I'll try." Against the Salmun, I couldn't promise.

"Why?" she croaked.

"Because most of the men in power don't deserve to win."