“There will be an extremely thorough open-ranks inspection this afternoon. We’ll have at least some answers by the end of it.”
“I’ll attend.”
“You’ll be on state duty with the queen. That’s why Cutter scheduled it for the afternoon.”
“Of course he did,” Yemi muttered.
“Of course he did what?” Cutter’s voice said behind her. She turned and he bowed, standing on the edge of the square. He looked much more relaxed out of his naval uniform, but was still clean and massive in shirtsleeves and dark trousers.
“Thwarted me yet again. I wanted to be present at your inspection today, but it seems I have a scheduling conflict.”
“I can always cancel,” he said in a tone that suggested he knew that wasn’t an option.
“Don’t be glib. And no, that won’t be necessary.” She spotted something of interest tucked beneath his giant bicep. “That the newspaper?”
He handed it over. “It is. You’re mentioned, fortunately for something that wasn’t a narrowly avoided disaster.”
Yemi skimmed the text beneath the black-and-white photograph of her and the street dancer beaming at one another. There was no mention of the standoff in the taproom or that she’d gone anywhere at all after that.
“My mother says I should apologize to you. For the stress I cause.”
“Hmm,” Cutter grunted, presumably by way of agreement.
She gave him back the paper. “If Nova identifies anyone, will they be arrested?”
“Immediately. Demoted and interrogated, and charges will be meted out as warranted. Everything will be reported back to the queen.”
“And to me.”
Cutter shook his head. “That’s not your burden yet.”
“I think we both know that’s barely accurate.”
“The queen has lived eight years longer than her assassins intended, and we may all yet be fortunate enough that she lives much longer.”
“Yes, of course, but you know what I mean.” Yemi rolled her eyes.
“Itdoessort of sound like you’re waiting for her to die,” Nova called.
“You just stay over there,” Yemi called back. Beyond the hedge to her left, senators and their guests were arriving for their bimonthly audience with the queen in a great, sweeping blob of violet robing. Each hailed from some district of Ixia, with their own pleas and complaints and machinations vying for power all touted as “for the people” and meant mainly for themselves. Hers would be an afternoon at her mother’s side, attempting to identify which was which in accordance with her grooming for the throne. To a degree, she ruled already.
“That’s my cue,” Yemi sighed, tossing her staff to Cutter and grabbing her jacket from the low wall. She had marched through the palace in slacks and subarmor once, but it had been determined that it was a decidedly unroyal thing to have to explain to polite company, so she bothered to cover up to save her mother the conversations.
“Your cue was thirty minutes ago when I daresay a bath should have been started,” said Cutter.
“You are both extremely funny this morning,” Yemi huffed. “Ever forward and so on.” Nova halted her assault, and they both bowed after her as she strode past Cutter and crossed the low field of ginger blossoms to head into the hall. Her long jacket was on but unbuttoned, streaming like a cape behind her.
The open-air porticos free of their billowing linen curtains bathed the halls in morning scents and sunlight, and ornate alcoves housed white stone statues of former monarchs in animus. Her boots clicked differently as the brick-paved floors of the outer throughways gave way to the polished marble of the staterooms and royal quarters. She slowed her pace to let the senators pass ahead of her in the grand hall marked by its high, gilded ceilings and the chortling birds permitted in its rafters, then crossed quickly into the east wing, where she was allowed to be semi-dressed and the royal staff milled about in their morning duties.
A young maid, Enna, was collecting linens for the laundry, herhead barely visible beneath the massive swirls of violet, gold, and ivory bundled atop it in a perfect balance.
“Enna, when you have a moment, I need a bath drawn. Quickly,” she said, passing her as guards threw open her blue bedroom doors on her left. Nova’s room lay directly across the hall on her right.
“My Light,” Enna replied with a demure dip.
Yemi’s bedroom was awash with light from giant windows overlooking the Fanged Coast and the sea beyond. Her bed linens had been stripped to white sheets and were likely on top of Enna’s head, but the rest of the fabrics—pale gauze curtains, plush rugs, patterned pillows on stark goldenrod settees—had all been switched to their spring motifs over the course of her weekend at sea.
An unburdened Enna hurried in behind her and crossed to the far end of the room, where tall gold doors opened to the expansive bathroom. Yemi stripped off her clothes and armor, cursing Nova for the ache in her ribs and leaving the items where they fell on the floor. Enna drew water into the copper tub and tempered it with fragrances from ornate glass bottles before fluttering into Yemi’s closet for a change of clothes. She was a small woman, pretty and brown with dark hair hidden beneath a working wrap and a large mole under one eye. Yemi liked her for the sweet singing voice Yemi caught sometimes as Enna went about her chores, and for being quick about everything she set about doing.
