Astrid had been at this politics game for a long time, and it was easier when others shared her burden. Ruga had always helped, uncomplaining, up until the end. Tears welled in Astrid’s eyes. She blinked them away before Freya could see.
“Is something the matter?” Freya asked.
Of course Freya would notice her mood anyway. “I’m wondering how much of an imposition the ambassador and the consuls will be. It bothers me that the king reached out to my steward rather than me. I don’t suppose you caught word of this first? Have you had a chance to look into the identities of the consuls?”
“No, not yet.”
“Where were you, then?” Astrid turned to face Freya. “During the meeting?”
Freya stood with her mouth slightly ajar. In moments like this, Astrid was reminded of how vulnerable Freya could be—she was a weapon, yes, but she was just a woman, too, a human who barely reached five feet in height. Astrid had always been impressed that Freya could make herself seem much taller through sheer force of presence or much smaller at will.
Freya ran fingers through her short, ink-black hair before she spoke, and Astrid found her eyes tracking Freya’s gloved hands.
“You were well protected by the félag. I didn’t realize you would notice me missing, Your Majesty.”
I always notice you, Astrid thought to say, but she held her tongue. Freya had not answered her, which meant Astrid would not be getting an answer any time soon. “What do you think of Skarde sending the consuls?”
“I worry King Skarde may know something we don’t.”
Astrid swallowed. “About Ulfur’s plans?”
Ulfur, who had rallied against Torden’s last ruler to divide the country in two. Astrid and Freya had been working under the assumption that Ulfur was too busy with her own headstrong warlords in Lynby to turn her attention to Torden—especially knowing Torden had a much more organized military and the Elven Islands on their side—but nothing was ever a givennow. Things that once made sense didn’t follow the old rules anymore.
“Yes, if Ulfur is plotting something, and Sydlig caught whiff of it,” Freya said. Her hands were behind her back, her posture unusually rigid. Freya had worked for Astrid for over a decade, and Astrid liked to think she understood her body language by now. Freya hoarded information the way the greedy hoarded gold. Not knowing would tear her up inside.
“May I make a suggestion?” Freya asked.
“Of course.”
“I think it would be wise to demote Hedda for your safety.”
Astrid blinked. Hedda was the captain of Astrid’s félag—she’d had restricted duties after an outburst several months back wherein she’d publicly denounced the queen, embarrassing Astrid’s entire legion of guards and making her control over her people appear weak. Granted, Hedda was quick to anger, but she’d served the ruler before Astrid, too, and cared deeply about protecting Torden.
The incident had taken Astrid aback and planted a seed of doubt in her heart about Hedda’s loyalty. She suspected the outburst was more about Astrid’s involvement in ending the romantic relationship Hedda had shared with Ruga prior to Ruga’s engagement, but there was a worse possibility. It could also mean Hedda secretly hated Astrid, and had for a long time.
How Astrid disliked questioning her own people.
“We’ve put Hedda through enough,” Astrid said. “She’s apologized for her actions. The castle floors sparkle with her punishment.”
“She harbors resentment toward Your Majesty,” Freya said. Her voice was toneless; she spoke not out of passion but logic, something Astrid always found impossible to argue with. “For separating her from Ruga, and for how we’ve approached her punishment.”
Astrid considered. “I’m reluctant to demote her completely. Perhaps we can discuss the change with her? Give her the chance to argue her case.”
“We need someone stronger. Less emotionally charged,” Freya said.
“Who do you have in mind?”
“Hrothgar. They’re strong, loyal, and have never had an outburst like Hedda. They don’t drink, either.”
The quick response shouldn’t have surprised Astrid, but for Freya to have a solution ready, she’d been considering it for some time. Freya was always two steps ahead of everyone else, it seemed.
“I wish you’d discuss these matters with me as soon as you think of them,” Astrid said, keeping her tone light, keeping the frustration out.
“I don’t like to present you with information until I’m really sure, My Queen.”
Stars, but Freya was stubborn. Maybe one day, the two of them could come up with solutions together, if Freya didn’t tire of working for Torden.
That was an unpleasant thought. Eager to distract herself, Astrid began the laborious process of folding the letters. “Bring me my seal?”
