Common knowledge, maybe, but was any of it true?
I looked across the table where Ravanna sat deep in conversation with Maksim. Her face was tilted proudly upward, her meal sat nearly untouched in front of her, and she’d pulled her black feathered cloak off her shoulders to reveal a pale slash of skin.
Could I believe she was capable of killing her king husband to gain his throne? Absolutely. But did I believe she did it?
It was hard to say.
“How did she manage the throne?” I asked, remembering my own lengths to secure mine. “Surely it would pass to the heir?”
“Ah, you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.” I ignored his rude comment and waited patiently for him to divulge more information. “She had no son. Or child for that matter.”
“She can’t have children,” Ashka intoned dryly. “Witches can’t have children.”
“That’s not true,” I told him. Although I wasn’t sure if I was arguing that witches can have children or that Ravanna was not a witch. He didn’t seem to care what I had to say either way.
“And there is no council of nobles or army in Blackthorne to vote or stop her. Ravanna simply took over. No one could tell her not to. Well, I suppose your father would have had to step in. But I have never heard of him even trying to intervene.” He sat back, slouching in an arrogant kind of way. “Lucky witch. Imagine what you could do with unlimited power as queen of the realm? If no one tried to stop you?” He became aware of what he was saying and added, “Imagine the progress you could make without needing a council’s approval.”
Well, if I had not been convinced he was not a consort I could tolerate before now, the greedy look in his eyes as he talked about unlimited power would have been enough. “The council is important for accountability. Unlimited power becomes a curse when not kept in check.”
He laughed, low and condescending. “I’ll be sure to ask your opinion again once you’ve truly had to deal with them. They’re all old, out of touch, and too happy to sit back and get fat than make real progress for the realm. They can’t even stop the Ring of Shadows. What if Kasha’s civil war spreads? Or the famine in Vorestra? What if Aramore ever comes clean about their gold running out? Do not underestimate the lengths these council members will go to ensure their comfort is not interrupted.”
“And what would you do? Unlimited power and the famine are spreading throughout the realm. What is your solution?”
“Easy,” he sneered. “The crown takes food stores in every kingdom and distributes it based on worth. If you have something to offer, your family can be fed. Should you be a worthless lout, then you’ll learn to work very quickly. Fair distribution based on merit will build a realm of hard workers and motivated neighbors.”
Maybe. If corruption were not as human a trait as breathing. “And what of children? Your brother, for instance?” I gestured toward Ashka. “What can he offer the crown so that he can eat? The disabled? The elderly? How will they work for food if they cannot get out of bed?”
My questions didn’t seem to bother him. “The children will be cared for, of course. They will one day be the workers so they will need their strength. As for the others, what do we need of the disabled and elderly if they cannot work? What value are they if they do nothing?”
His words sent a sharp shiver sliding down my spine. This wasn’t mere speculation. Alexi had thought about this. And because I wasn’t willing to take him as my consort, he would one day sit on the council with me. The small amount of breakfast I’d eaten rotted in my belly. I felt sick.
Somehow I managed to keep my composure. “Well, you certainly have many thoughts on the realm.”
He smiled at me. I could see that there was a handsome man somewhere in there. But it was blotted out by his pride and twisted ideals of life, of living. “You certainly don’t have enough. But worry not. It will be my pleasure to guide you.”
I looked away from Alexi so he could not see my expression of horror, and my gaze clashed with Ravanna, who looked on the verge of laughter. It was such an odd expression for her usually serene face that I lost all control of my facial muscles. I could not have said what I looked like, but I seemed to amuse her even more.
With a subtle incline of her head, she glanced at Alexi and then rolled her eyes. Had she heard him offer to guide me? Had it annoyed her as much as it had annoyed me?
I closed my eyes and made a show of sighing. She dipped her head to hide her smile, then turned to Maksim when he demanded her attention once more, totally composed.
Had I just shared a moment of brevity with the Cold Queen? I could hardly believe it. But if anyone understood the needlessness of a man’s advice to come to my own opinion, it would surely be a witch who murdered her husband so she could ascend his throne and take over his kingdom.
Breakfast ended shortly after, saving me from more strained conversation with the Crown Prince of Barstus. And shortly after that, Katrinka said goodbye to the family she loved so dearly, and we left the kingdom altogether.
There was a moment, as I climbed into the carriage and caught her clinging to Anton’s neck, when I regretted her company. Maybe it would have been better for her to stay with the family she cared about so deeply. And who clearly cared for her just as strongly.
But being alone in the carriage for just a minute with Ravanna made me thankful for her company. And not just because I was reluctant to be alone with RP. I wanted what Katrinka had with her brothers. I wanted that closeness. That affection. I wanted a sister who acted like my sister. Who loved me like a sister.
I had lost my family many years ago, and now I had the chance to have at least part of it back. And I refused to pass up that chance for an easy solution.
Just as I’d battled my way into a comfortable existence with the Temple monks, I would fight tooth and nail to have a solid relationship with Katrinka again too. It might take years, it might even take a lot of years, but one day we would be thankful for each other. And I couldn’t wait for it.
I was quiet, lost in my many thoughts, as our caravan of royal Blackthorne carriages traveled over the vibrant green moors of Gray Cape that rose up all along the southern border of the kingdom. Before we reached the border, we stayed two more nights at Barstus Inns and eventually caught a glimpse of the Serpent’s Sea. The highway winded right next to beaches that were as wet and muddy as the constant rainfall would suggest they would always be like.
When we finally crossed the border into Blackthorne after days of shivering misery, the sun shone through the clouds and finally chased the chill away.
And I was left to wonder if it was the change of landscape or the goblin’s curse.
