Recovering from the fact that she knew what Florence was and seemed perfectly unfazed about it, I registered the full sadness that wore on the queen. Beneath a face of white makeup were fine cracks of grief, of nights spent weeping and days spent losing herself to mourning.
My body moved on its own, fingers extending toward her. It was a breach of the protocol driven into me since my arrival, the smallest of treasons, but I didn’t stop. My fingertips barely grazed the silk of her glove when Queen Adelaide withdrew. Rather than hardening, the queen recognized the gesture’s intent and smiled faintly.
“I have a daughter through you,” she stated, stopping in front of the forbidden wing that led to the royal quarters. “You may call me Mother, once you are wed.”
What had I hoped for? To comfort the queen with only my touch? But the thought remained that I might be some relief to her; that through marriage, she gained something life in all its cruelty would not grant her. “I would be honored to do so, Your Majesty.”
Queen Adelaide inclined her head and turned down the wing. She disappeared behind a large set of gold-plated doors which led to a room that would one day be mine. The corridor was once again silent, save for the occasional murmur that echoed out from various chambers.
I swallowed, then went to find Florence. The least I could do was let her know the queen had found her out.
“She really suggested that?”
Florence sat at my table, clutching her black mink cloak. She was curiously unperturbed until I told her about the womb-blessing. Now those long lashes of hers batted with amazement, and the sorceress leaned back against her seat.
“You’re not worried?” I asked. “She knows what you are.”
“She does. Not all Gallaeans are superstitious; her view on magic is likely a controversial one after her marriage to King Elias,” replied Florence. “Still, to say you should seek blessing…it is not unheard of among royalty, but it surprises me to hear it from her.”
Ireallyhated to ask, but… “What, pray tell, does a womb-blessing entail?”
“It’s a ritual that ensures the prince’s seed takes. I can do it for you, but I’ll need to make the necessary preparations. It will require me to travel for a time.”
I fought to stifle the memory of my invasive introduction to the Lord of Night.
My terror must have been apparent, as Florence quickly added: “It’s a painless process, but I’ll only do it with your express consent. It is, after all, a means of conception… Are you certain you are ready to do this with your body?”
“I…” I shivered. “I’m not entirely sure what it’s like. I have read stories—”
“I could tell you every story and still be wrong,” Florence interrupted, smiling. “Each woman’s experience differs considerably. But you will get big, and your body will change. You will experience birth, ultimately, and that changes a woman.”
“It’s not as though I really have much choice.” I stood up, crossing over to the window. “The prince will want a child, and I am sure he’ll put in the work to create one.”
I placed a hand on my cheek to conceal the rosy hue the thought created.
“There are ways. We may bless a womb with fruition, or command it to hold fast.”
I was not especially eager to bear a child. To do so was the price of the crown, another expectation unfairly placed upon me the moment I’d bewitched the prince. If I could not produce an heir,someonewould. Perhaps the prince would be pressured into leaving me, and as rare as divorces were, they carried a great weight of shame in this country. I might be kept around at court, but my position would crumble. At best, I’d become a concubine while Nicolas remarried someone else.
I could put it off, have Florence command my body to wait…but for how long? If the queen knew of the ritual, it was likely that Nicolas did, as well. Would he expect it of me, just as Elias had for the queen? Surely not. He valued my opinion, tosomedegree; surely he could stand to wait through at least a few months of marital bliss.
“I’m putting unreasonable pressure on you,” Florence said quietly. She placed her hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. “In your position, I wouldn’t be quick to answer, either. You’re a virgin and should have the time to enjoy intercourse for what it is.”
My fingers traced the windowpane. Sooner, later, never. Three choices awaited my decision, each with its own set of positives and negatives. Gallae was in rough shape, bound to get worse before it saw any improvement. The queen was preparing to step down in the midst of the chaos, but her word remained law, her position unassailable not because of a marriage to the dead king, but because she bore his son.
The court might sneer at my common blood, but they could not easily dismiss me as the mother of their future heir, the symbol of Tomorrow. If the situation in Gallae worsened, I’d need the armor a child would provide.
Besides, it was bound to happen eventually. So long as I waited, the court would regard me as nothing more than the prince’s amusing choice, forever on trial. With a child…
I squared my shoulders. This wasn’t surrender, it was strategy. I would give the court, queen, and prince precisely what they wanted, and I would secure a power that couldn’t be stripped away by anything short of revolution.
“Go make your preparations,” I answered at last, turning to face the sorceress. “Be careful. I don’t need the Banewights watching us.”
“Indeed. We’ll have to work around them,” Florence agreed, rising from her seat. She made for the exit, adjusting her dress. Then she looked over her shoulder once more, a mysterious glint in her eye. “Ready yourself, dear Princess. Your vivacious friend Angharad is here.”
I wondered how she could possibly know that, but in short order, there was a knock. Florence greeted Angharad after only one of these raps, turning to me. Behind her, the red-haired woman waved, visibly startled by the sudden answer.
“Angharad,” I said, measuring my volume carefully. “What brings you to me now? It’s nigh suppertime.”
