‘You once said that you would rather be monstrous than beautiful.’
‘I was a child! I have learned now that women suffer regardless.’
‘Mortals suffer, not just women. You all suffer equally.’ The statue that spoke with the voice of equality and glared with the impatience of wisdom held an owl aloft in its left hand and a set of weighing scales in its right. It was crowned in what was part diadem, part helmet and regarded the queen as though it was acutely aware of every thought she had ever had and everything that she might consider saying. It was unsatisfying. Enraging.
‘Yes. We suffer equally. And in finding equality, we lose equity. You do not see. You are all the same.’
‘Long have I watched you.’
‘Yes. Long have you watched and not helped.’
The stone bird flapped its wings. Once. ‘I helped when I could.’
The queen repeated words she had said, long ago. ‘It was not enough.’
‘I wanted to see if you lived up to the name you were given. It seems that I was disappointed.’
‘I am a queen, I have ruled over many, many men.’
‘I do not mean that name.’
The queen’s breath caught in her throat. Here, at last, an acknowledgement. ‘I have lied every day. Every day since I lost her.’
‘The name did not only mean liar.’ The queen knew this.Cunning. Deceiver.‘And I cannot help one who will not help themself.’
‘I cannot help myself more than I have,’ the queen tossed back, mutinously. ‘I have created happiness for myself. I am a good and just ruler. I have done what I can.’
‘It is not enough.’
She ground her teeth, reached for the pouch at her belt and squeezed it tight. ‘What would you have me do? What does it matter to you?’
‘I named you victor at your birth, and I do not like to be wrong. Not all battles are fought on fields by the arms of men. True strategy is the kind that is not sung about by bards. It goes unnoticed and undetected.’
‘I have no interest in what the bards say about me. I will not be here to hear them.’
‘Yes.’ The grey face nodded, solemnly decisive. The temple was cool, the sun high above it, just cresting its peakbefore beginning its noonday descent. A bird called somewhere, loud and true. The queen heard it, picked up some thread of its message and started.
‘You have spoken to my grandmother?’
‘Yes. She is well. She thinks of you always.’
‘And I her.’
‘She thinks of your mother too.’
The queen’s stomach clenched like her hand around the pouch. ‘I used to admire the stars, but they are quite ruined for me now.’
‘They do not all suffer as she does.’
‘She suffers?’
‘Yes.’ The single syllable was devastating.
‘Is there – is there nothing that can be done?’
‘There is.’
The queen looked up at the statue. ‘What? How? You have not said.’
