Then and there, I realized that Donya was probably straight. That awkward, flustered look as she helped Vestan regain his feet was a dead giveaway. It was certainly possible to like both men and women—I did—but when I compared Donya’s current reaction to how little attention she’d given her five hot female guards in leggings, I had a strong suspicion I was out of luck. I couldn’t help letting out a small, wistful sigh. Even before I’d met Donya in person, I’d deeply admired her women’s rights activism and reputation as a swordswoman. I’d already had a bit of a celebrity crush on her. But even though she was only a few years older than me, she treated me like a child. I’d started with the handicap of being her dear friend’s kid sister, so my expectations had been low from the beginning.
Not quite meeting his eyes, Donya said, “Vestan, this is Bora, Ysabel’s younger sister. There’s no invasion … at least, not one by a dark lord. We’ve got some trouble with Sherda, though.”
I smiled. “An easy mistake to make. My sister and I look alike.”
I’d come to look more like Ysabel the older I’d grown. We both had the same small nose, ears, and mouth. Our family had large upturned eyes, though mine were brown to her hazel. With a Conollian father and an Arahasnorian mother, we siblings had a range of skin colors, and I’d ended up a slightly lighter shade of brown. We were both short, though I’d expanded more sideways. My mother called me her plump little country mouse, which she claimed she meant as a compliment even though it didn’t feel like one.
There was a mirror in each horse’s stall. I avoided looking at my reflection in the closest one. I’d put so much work into getting comfortable in my body—I hadn’t deliberately vomited up my food in over a year—but I still didn’t like mirrors.
“Pardon me, Lady Bora,” Vestan said, bowing his head at me.
“There’s no need to bow. I’m not nobility.” I attempted a wobbly curtsy at him before remembering he wasn’t either.
Donya spoke over us. “We need your fastest horse.”
I cleared my throat. “I’ve never ridden before.”
Donya winced. “Your easiest-to-ride horse.”
“At once, my lady.” He turned toward the equipment hanging on the wall.
“Are you scared of horses?” Donya asked me. “Perhaps I could find a mule—wait, are you scared of mules, too?”
“I’m not scared of horses, my lady. I’ve just never had a chance to ride one before, that’s all.” I smiled in a strained way. “Too poor.”
“But Ysabel gave all her siblings—” Donya visibly stopped herself. “We’ll find you an older horse used to riders,” she said awkwardly.
I was grateful to her for not asking any probing questions. As Donya clearly knew, my wealthy older sister had arranged for me to receive a large sum of money upon reaching the age of majority.
Thanks to my ex, I’d lost all of mine less than a year later.
Of course, I’d never told my sister the depressing and embarrassing story. Ysabel’s healing gift cost her a day of her life every time she used it. Every aracoin Ysabel sent us had been purchased with her incipient death. I could only live with the guilt of receiving the firstsum because I’d never asked her to send it. How could I shamelessly ask her for more?
Calum and I, the two siblings old enough to remember Ysabel, had struggled the most with our sister’s inevitable death and the silent accusation lurking behind her distance. Eventually, Calum had traveled to the Holy City to find a way to save Ysabel. He must have succeeded, because she could now take a day of someone else’s life to heal them instead, but he’d also somehow died. No one had ever given me an honest answer about how. Ysabel’s letter, in stilted terms, said he’d died saving her. Officially he was listed as another victim in the recent necromantic rampage. I’d pestered Ysabel for months for the precise details about how Calum had died. Although I knew she must be traumatized, I had the right to know. She’d evaded my questions with the skill of a politician until I gave up.
Would Donya tell Ysabel that I’d somehow lost all my money? Would my sister think me a drunk or gambler like our father? If she ever asked, I decided that I’d demand to know what had happened to Calum in return. Let the silence between us finally end.
The sound of a wooden door breaking ripped me away from my thoughts.
The light pouring through the hole blinded my eyes, but I could dimly make out the black-and-white uniforms of the Sherdan military.
Donya reacted first. She shoved me toward the back of the stable. With her eyes on the guards, she said, “Vestan, get Bora out.”
“Yes, my lady.” Vestan grabbed my arm. Still stunned, I followed him. He dragged me out of sight between the last horse stall and the back wall, which had a triangular window.
Behind us, a guard said, “Countess Donya, you’re under arrest for the charges of embezzlement, attempted assassination, and high treason.”
Vestan shoved a crate in front of the window and half lifted me onto it. I unlatched the window with shaking hands, and he grabbed my legs to help me climb out.
A creak of metal came from the stable, but no clash of swords. It sounded like men in armor moving. Then the clang of manacles. In a rush of footsteps, the guards took Donya away.
* * *
I’d concluded that this whole mess was kind of my fault based on three factors.
Number one: the Sherdan guards had moved ridiculously fast to arrest Donya, so fast they weren’t even pretending the charges were real. The Sherdan delegation only arrived at the palace minutes ago—how would they have had time to figure out if Donya was embezzling anything? Why would she have been plotting to assassinate the new queen when she hadn’t known the queen would turn out to be a foreign puppet until that very day? People on the streets were grumbling and angry. A crier got tomatoed for reporting the arrest, even though it was hardly that poor boy’s fault. The entire city had been locked down, both by Sherdan guards and the Arahasnor army, which had quickly fallen under the duchess’s control. They weren’t letting the news escape because they knew our nobility wouldn’t let this stand unchallenged. They must have been planning this from the beginning, so it couldn’t entirely be my fault.
On the other hand, the confrontation I’d caused between Donya and the Blood Duchess certainly couldn’t have helped matters. I might have caused the duchess to move faster.
