Author’s Note: This seemed like a natural follow up to the last scene, at least in part. I probably should have gone with the decision to take a different path after that one, but I do have a weakness for moments like this. I think the ability to sleep beside someone shows how deep trust runs because we’re vulnerable when we sleep, we have to let our guard down. So, really, it was about trust.

Anokii folded her arms over her chest, looking down at feet hanging over the side of the bed. Two sets, one group smaller and more slender, those of a woman. She supposed someone else would be worried. She was, and yet she was not. She saw enough small details to allay what doubts she might have. She hoped, at least. “Morning, cousin.”

Agache jerked awake, his eyes darting around in confusion. He looked at Anokii and then over to the lower half of the bed and back to her, frowning. She almost would have thought that he was not sure where he was or how he’d managed to sleep there. The position was rather awkward—the bed was longer in the other direction, and he should have fallen off of it during the night the way he was half over the edge. “What—Where—Why are you here?”

Anokii’s eyes went to the bed. Even though she suspected their positions had come about rather innocently, she could not help pointing out the danger of it. “I should ask you that. In fact, you should be glad that it was me who entered and not the king.”

He pulled himself up to a seated position, looking at the queen and shaking his head. “It is not like that, Anokii. We did not—I know that—”

“You got yourself hurt, that much I can see. I assume that the queen assisted you with that wound.”

“It was a poor effort compared to yours, I am sure,” the queen said, rising without bothering to sit up. She was still wearing the dress she’d had on the day before, and Anokii did not think that the other woman realized that she had not changed. “I could have made him sleep on the floor after I was done with him, but before I could ask, he had passed out. Perhaps I gave him too much of the herbs. He seems to be rather confused, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed.”

Agache sighed. He winced as he touched his side. “Must you tease? I did not intend to sleep in the queen’s room, certainly not in her bed. That was… It wasn’t—”

“You weren’t in my bed. On it, almost, but not in it. I helped you with your wound, as I said, but I got some of the herbs on my hands as well, and while I sat beside you, trying to treat you, I… I suppose you must say that I treated myself as well. I must have closed my eyes and quickly fallen asleep. Neither of us intended to share this space. That is clear from the way we were lying. Nothing happened, and we will be more careful should any similar situation arise.”

“Yes,” he agreed, leaning down to pick his tunic up off the floor. He grimaced, unable to lift his arms to pull it on. Anokii moved over to his side and helped ease it over him. He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I would tell you not to get injured again, but that would be useless. You are altogether too willing to risk your life.”

The queen nodded. “Your cousin is right. You are.”

“You would lecture me? Who did you marry again?”

The queen glared at him, but before she could say anything, her door opened, and she stilled, looking over at the other part of the room in horror. Anokii grabbed her cousin’s cloak, shoving it at him as she forced him as much out of sight as she could. As soon as he was cloaked, whoever had entered would not so much as look at him, but until then, he was vulnerable.

Agache pushed her hands away, and Anokii grimaced, having little choice except to try and block him from being seen, not that the king so much as glanced at them. He went for the queen.

“I’ve decided to inspect the remaining troops today. You will accompany me.”

The queen nodded, bowing her head to the king’s decree, and he stopped, frowning at her. He took hold of her arm, pulling her close, his hand in her hair. “One would think you would dress less… formally when you sleep.”

“And let everyone see all of me when I am asleep and vulnerable?”

“Who has seen you in such a state? Malzhi?”

“No.” She lowered her head. “Perhaps. If he came in when I was sleeping, I would not necessarily know. I would hope not, but how could I be certain?”

Anokii thought the queen was becoming too good a liar, though she could not be ungrateful to the other woman for continuing to conceal her cousin.

The king smiled. “Then you remain mine.”

She nodded, crying out a moment later. “You did not have to do that.”

Anokii had not seen what he’d done, but she sensed her cousin’s agitation behind her. The way he’d bumped her almost suggested he was about to go after the king himself, but even if he had hurt her, Agache could not risk everything for one moment of abuse, even if the queen was their ally.

The king laughed, shoving his wife backward. He walked away, his laughter lasting until after the door closed behind him. The queen shuddered, and Anokii moved toward her. She knelt down, her hand going to the other woman’s shoulder. The queen jerked away from her.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Did he hurt you?”

The queen shook her head. “It… That will pass. Please, leave me alone.”

“If you are worried about my presence, I will go. I never meant to stay this long,” Agache said. He stopped next to the queen. “If there is anything I can do—”

“No. Go.”

Agache hesitated. Anokii knew that regardless of the circumstances that had brought him here or his need to stay far from the king—they were fortunate that the other man had only seen the queen—he blamed himself for what had just happened to her. It didn’t matter that she’d come here more or less by her own choice, that she’d known what she was doing when she married the king. Agache had been the one who had taken on the king’s abuses before his “death,” but now he had to watch as someone else was forced to bear that burden. Anokii hoped that he would not be foolish now, no matter how much she hated knowing what the king could do to the queen.

Muttering a low curse and shaking his head, Agache turned to leave. “Yes, my lady.”

Author’s Note: So when I wrote this scene, I immediately wanted to share it. I thought the background behind the queen’s name was something important. Or maybe it was just the way that Agache reacted after she told him that I liked.

“Jis?”

“What is it?” She did not look behind her, not wanting to speak to Agache right now. She didn’t want to see anyone. She didn’t know that she could cope with a visitor or whatever demand was about to be made of her. She did not want to see the king or Malzhi or try for any sort of intrigue, not now. She had wanted to know what their plan was, how they were going to stop the king and Malzhi, but she did not have the stamina to hear it at present. She could not believe how much she had told Anokii, and in revealing herself, she had made another mistake. She should not have betrayed her thoughts, should not have voiced those doubts, nor could she allow herself to be so vulnerable again.

“Something is wrong.”

She almost laughed. Sometimes Agache was a fool. Didn’t he realize what he was asking? “You are in my room again. Of course something is wrong.”

He shook his head. “It is something else. You do not react to your name that way without a reason. You did not—is it the king? Malzhi? Memories?”

She could say it was any of those things or none of them. All of them, perhaps. She was homesick in many ways, despite thinking that she no longer had a place there, and yet she was unwilling to leave. She was close to overwhelmed by everything she feared. “Memories, I suppose.”

“Of what?”

She would not discuss that. He would not distract her this time. If he had come to her room, he should have a reason for it—a good one—and he would tell her what it was. Now. Otherwise, he could go. She was not going to let him annoy her tonight. “Why are you here?”

“Because I am a fool.”

She frowned. She did not like that answer. She had thought it herself a moment before, but that did not mean that she wanted him to say it. He was not free to visit her without reason, and to call himself a fool suggested at a reason she would not believe. “You… You do have a reason for being in my room at night, don’t you? This is not something to do because you are bored, so you would… You must have a reason. What is it?”

“I am not bored.”

She already knew that, but his words were not the answers she needed. His voice told her enough. He did not realize how much that revealed about him. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

He sighed, and she turned back to him, crossing over to his side. He did not protest as she helped him out of his cloak or pushed up his shirt. She winced as she saw his side. “What did you do? No, wait, do not tell me. I know. You were the one who set those two idiots squabbling before the king’s speech, weren’t you?”

“I was.” He lowered his head, ashamed. “I… It was only supposed to be a distraction. They…”

“They weren’t supposed to die.”

He shook his head, miserable. “No, they weren’t. I… I tried to stop it, but I was too late.”

“It could easily have been something else they did, not something that you arranged. It doesn’t take much to anger the king.”

“That is no consolation, and we both know it. I did that, I sent them to their deaths, and it is something I must atone for later,” he said, keeping his head low. He let out a breath, but he did not look up at her. “Distract me again. Please.”

She turned to pick up her water pitcher, knowing that she would have to clean that wound at least. That would not distract him from remembering what had caused it, though. “With what?”

“You never did tell me what Jis meant.”

She sighed, motioning for him to sit on the bed. “I… You would not know that Jis… It comes from a flower.”

“A flower?” He sat down, grimacing as he did. “It must be hideous or have a terrible scent to cause you to react that way.”

“Not quite. The jisensoji flowers are only grown in the king’s gardens. He… He gave one to my mother when she became his mistress. It… That symbolized their agreement.”

Agache frowned. “She… had a choice?”

The queen stilled, the cloth she’d been about to touch to his side dripping onto the floor. “Why would you think she didn’t?”

“She would have been picked because she looked like the queen. She was already the other woman’s esibani, wasn’t she? It was rather… inevitable, that relationship with your father, wasn’t it?”

“I want you to leave.”

He gestured to the floor, and she frowned to see she’d dropped the cloth. “You didn’t do anything—I thought you wanted to treat this. Not that you have to, but you did—”

“I am not Anokii. I am not a healer, and you have…” She could say it when she wasn’t looking at him, and kneeling to pick up the cloth was a good reason not to face him, unlike cowardice. “You have made my parents’ liaison worse than it had ever seemed in the past, and it was difficult enough knowing that I was only ever… I had not deceived myself that they were in love, but to think of myself so… coldly prearranged…”

Agache reached over and placed his hands on her face. “I am sorry. I did not mean to make you feel as though you are somehow less because of your birth. Regardless of how that may have come to be, you have become so much more than what they might have intended. You are the queen. You are my ally. My… wijami. I was injured, and you offered me shelter despite the risk involved in my mere presence in your room. You have so much… value. Do not think you lack worth. Please.”

“I don’t…” She swallowed. She didn’t know how to respond to what he’d said. She settled for something simple, though it did not do justice to what he had done for her. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.”

“Let me rinse this, and then I will take care of that wound for you.”

“That is unnecessary.”

Of course he’d argue with her about it the moment she started to clean him up. He was such a child sometimes. Still, if he was trying to excuse himself because he thought she was still upset, that was different. “I say it is, and I am your queen, remember?”

“Very well, my lady. If you insist.”

Author’s Note: I wrote this part to bridge the gap between the scene with the queen escaping the bindings and one that I wrote where the queen discusses her name and what it means. I didn’t want to delay that scene, but it didn’t fit before. It does, after this, almost.

“How are you feeling?”

“I believe you may say I am recovering.”

“In body, perhaps, yet not in spirit,” Anokii said, shaking her head at the queen’s tone. The woman had been rather despondent, even after the real bindings were switched for the fake. She was without either version at the moment, her neck bare and body free in the privacy of her rooms, but none of that seemed to help her at present. Were it only the pain, the queen should have improved after the necklace was first removed. The herbs would have made her almost numb to that. This, Anokii feared, went far deeper than the marks the bindings had left behind.

“Is this the way you are with your cousin?”

“Agache does seem to be as resistant to healing as you are. Sometimes I do not believe he thinks he should heal at all. I can give you the remedies the plants offer, but only you can allow the recovery to begin. If you have determined in your mind not to let anyone assist you, then I can do nothing for you. You will not improve.”

The queen stopped to lean against the wall. “I knew when I came what I was doing—I knew before I came what I had agreed to. Some might argue that I had no choice or perhaps it would not seem as though I did, but I know I could have gone against them if I’d tried. I never tried. Sometimes that feels like cowardice. Sometimes this does, obeying them, wedding myself to a man I knew was cruel only to preserve my people, to be close enough to kill him if I were not such a coward…”

“They sent a princess to kill the king?”

The queen laughed. “I cannot believe that Agache did not tell you. No, Anokii. They did not send a princess. They sent an esibani. A trained bodyguard of the royal house. I am the one that has always protected Zaze, and when she was pledged to your king, I was the one sent in her place.”

Anokii stared at her. “That… That is why Agache calls you Jis, why he sees you as so valuable, why he always says you are not what you seem.”

The queen’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “I am not what anyone thinks, not even Agache. I do not know myself—I was lost in the role of Zaze’s protector years ago. Here I am the queen. It is not the same as being Zaze. My sister, fool that she is, would be dead by now.”

“Yes, I think you have been quite fortunate to remain alive as long as you have.”

“I know I have.”

Anokii set aside her herbs. “That is what holds back your healing, then. You do not want to improve—you feel you have lingered too long already. Your life is already forfeit, perhaps you have felt it so since you came in your sister’s stead. You can allow that feeling to decide your actions and mood, or you can change it. That is not a choice anyone can make for you.”

The queen closed her eyes. “I cannot help feeling that even should I survive, I will not have reason to. What I had before I left is no longer mine, and I think even if it were, it will not be… I should not say it, but I have no desire to return to being Zaze’s protector. I have been a queen. That has ruined me for all else, I fear.”

“You do not have to return. You are our queen, and though the current laws do not permit you to rule, you have some authority and even responsibility to this land. You are one of us now, by marriage and vow, and you do not have to leave.”

The queen pushed herself away from the wall, crossing to her bed. “My oath as esibani comes before the oaths here, and do not forget that the whole fact of me being here is a lie. If the king knew, he’d have every reason to dishonor the treaty.”

“Then why come at all? Why send you here?”

“I told you—they intended for me to kill him. I… I cannot do it, and in failing, I condemn both our nations. It… I think it would be best if… If something should happen before the king learns of it, while he is still unready for war, then it is the best outcome possible now.”

Anokii shook her head. “No. I do not believe that. Nor do you, not truly. You are perhaps as worried about surviving as you are not surviving, but you know that if the king and Malzhi fall without you dying or war with your homeland, that is the best outcome. Peace cannot be undervalued. It is more important than almost anything else. Your land will be safe, ours will be free, and perhaps then the Nebkasha can rebuild and grow again.”

The queen sat down. “I do not believe we have much time left. The end is coming, I can feel it, and if I should make one mistake…”

“Do not let your urgency tempt you into something rash. You and Agache are too alike in that respect. You both must be patient. Do not allow yourself to panic.”

“This would be easier if we had a plan.”

“Ask Agache about that the next time you see him.”

Author’s Note: I didn’t feel it was necessary to draw out or dwell on how long the queen had to wear the real bindings. They were unpleasant times for her, painful, and I think that was covered already. It was time to free her.

“Jis.”

Her eyes opened, and she reached up to her neck, wondering if she was dreaming. The bands were gone, and though she could feel their marks, she did not feel the same weight. She could not believe this. She had to wake up, had to face that it was still there. She did not want to. She would rather dream of her homeland or even nothing at all. She did not want to wake. Let it be over at last.

“Look at me, please, my esibani. I know I was late getting this to you, but you… Please. Open your eyes for me.”

She blinked, her eyes clearing as she focused on Agache. “Late?”

“You know, of course, that I had gone to meet with the other leaders—Gekin was forced to find me since the jeweler would not give the fake to anyone but me. Had I known, I would never have left, I swear. I hope it was worth the trouble that he caused us—you. As far as I can tell, the forgery is flawless. The king should not be able to tell the difference. You can take it on and off when you want from now on, and Anokii has already treated your wounds. She will do so again now that you are awake.”

The queen nodded, turning onto her side. She did not dare rise, and she wanted to be able to look at him without straining her neck. “How much longer? How long before this thing ends?”

“Not long, I promise,” Agache said, brushing back her hair with a frown. “I swear… I never meant for this to take as long as it did.”

“He used something like this on your arm, didn’t he? On more than your arm.”

Agache closed his eyes. “Yes. I… It is very painful, and I did not want you to have to suffer as I had. I am sorry. I hoped to make it so that you could avoid this.”

She sighed. “I know that I don’t… As much as it has hurt, I am aware that there were far worse things that he could be doing to me. I… I am grateful that it is this and not one of those things. I am.”

Agache’s hand took hers. “Why are you not more… angry? Should you not hate your family for sending you here to him? Should you not hate me for all I have failed to do in protecting you? I have not even been much help to you.”

“It is not your responsibility to care for me. You are leading a revolution. You are not the esibani for this queen.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing. I would have been a true failure at it, and you are in almost desperate need of a skilled esibani.”

“You have helped me. You have saved me, too. You should not have to be at my side constantly. There are other more important things for you to do. I am only one woman, and even were I to fall, it would likely aid your cause. My people would be forced to retaliate. It would mean war. In the confusion, you could do much to destabilize the kingdom, leaving him nothing to rule.”

He shook his head. “No. It should not come at the cost of your life.”

“You are willing to let it happen at the cost of yours.”

Agache grimaced. “I have, I fear, acted far too irresponsibly. I know what I should be doing, and I have failed at it each time. We share the same difficulty. I no more want to kill anyone than you do.”

“I suppose I should not like that about you. Still, I do.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “You should rest. Anokii is waiting to help you, and you should take this opportunity to heal as much as possible. I should not have woken you, but you worried me.”

She covered his hand with hers. “For all that you say the Gichikane in you makes you unable to, you care. You worry so much about your people. It is very admirable. You should be the king.”

“I would hate that,” he said, lowering his head. She waited, wondering why he had not left yet if Anokii was there to examine her bruises. “You know that is not much of a compliment—almost anyone would be a better king than he has been.”

She laughed, closing her eyes with a smile as Agache withdrew.

Author’s Note: This story isn’t as close to an ending as the other two I have going, and it’s not as easy to put a new part of it up because I don’t know how to finish it or feel like I can right now, but since I updated the others and I do have this, I will put it up.

Though a part of her wanted nothing more than to hide herself away in her rooms, not to show her neck to anyone until the forgery was complete, not to risk the king wanting to play with his new toy, the queen knew that she could not remain hidden forever. If she were to be a coward, then why not accept the offers Agache and the others had made to send her across the border?

She put a hand to her neck. The bruises from the last time she’d seen the king still ached, and she had not seen Agache or had word of the fake in days.

“Can it be that the king has left you alone? How fortunate am I, then,” Malzhi said, and she cursed as she heard him walking up to her. “I have missed being able to converse with you, my lady.”

“Have you? I rather thought you expected the king to kill me the day he returned from the way you were gloating,” the queen said, aware of the weight on her throat. The king had the key to this horrible thing, and he was the only one who could adjust it without breaking it—some small mercy when she found herself alone with Malzhi—but now was still dangerous for her. Malzhi didn’t need the king’s key to cause her trouble, and she was vulnerable until they were to able to replace the real bindings with a fake. She was beginning to understand the look that Agache had spoken of, the one that warned of the king’s intentions, but she did not know that it mattered. Between the king and Malzhi, she’d die before they were able to replace the damned thing.

“Oh, it would have been amusing, I suppose, but I have yet to know you as well as I’d like, so I’d be disappointed as well.”

She turned her attention to the courtyard, refusing to look at him. “I am beginning to think that it would be a relief. That way I would no longer have to see him… or you.”

Malzhi reached up to touch the bindings around her neck. “You have been suffering, haven’t you? Such a shame that he still fails to realize what he has. What you need is someone who knows you what you truly are and appreciates the value of what that is.”

She almost told him that she had such a person—more than one, even, though she suspected that Wikan would not have waited for her, nor should he after what she’d agreed to do. Still, Agache knew her secrets, that she was esibani, and he valued her skills, had told her that since the beginning of their alliance. She knew that she could not speak of either of them to Malzhi, though.

“I suppose you think that you are such a person, do you?” She shook her head. “I don’t believe you. I know not to trust you—unless you think that I am a fool.”

He moved his hand to her face, caressing her cheek. She flinched, and he smiled, pushing her back against the wall. She shifted, sidestepping under his arm and evading his hold. She needed to leave this balcony. She had to get away from him. Now.

“Why must you be so difficult, my lady?” He started toward her. “We could have a very pleasurable time if you were not so stubborn. You would not object so much if you knew what I could give you.”

“I know what you think I will give me, and I do not want it.”

“Of course you do. You think you cannot admit it because of your husband, but you know you do.”

She glared at him, and he caught her arm. She tried to pull away from him, but he got hold of her other arm, trapping her in place. His breath hit her neck, and she was about to hit him with her elbow when she heard the voice.

“You’re touching something that belongs to me.”

Malzhi let go of her, shoving her forward. “Forgive me, your majesty. I thought I saw something upon the queen’s neck, and I wanted to examine it more closely, but she did not want to let me see it.”

“I would not let you see it if I were her,” the king said, taking hold of her, and she grimaced, knowing that he would hurt her now even if she had been trying to get away from Malzhi. “You are dismissed. Go.”

“Yes, your highness.” Malzhi bowed his head and stalked away, anger in each step he took. She swallowed, looking up at the king.

“You encouraged him?”

“No. Never. I was trying to leave when he caught me the second time.”

“You are mine. I do hope that you have not forgotten that.”

“How could I?”

He turned the key, tightening the cords around her neck, and she reached up, clawing at it as she tried to breathe. She could not do this. He needed to stop playing with her. If he was going to kill her, he needed to do it now. She just wanted it over with already. She did not want to be taken to the edge over and over again. If he forced her into unconsciousness again, perhaps this time she would not wake from it. She thought that she would prefer that.

“Beg if you like.”

She met his gaze, not turning away from the cruelty there. Let him do it. She would not beg. She couldn’t beg. She saw his lips twist, and then he kissed her. She thought it was only the pain he knew he was causing that attracted him, that and the need to mark what Malzhi had tried to take as his and his alone. A part of her wanted to give herself away to someone else to defy him, but that was just a fleeting fancy, not something that she would ever do, even if there were such a person that she was willing to be with instead of her husband—certainly that was not Malzhi.

“I find use in your defiance. Breaking you becomes more and more enjoyable.”

She tried to breathe, but he had not loosened the bands. She blinked, feeling weak, and then the bands gave up their grip, allowing her to suck air in again, and she gasped, trying to make up for the way her body had been starved for breath for too long. She fell to her knees, hearing him laugh as his footsteps retreated from her.

“Bagquin.”

Author’s Note: I find as I fill in more of these details, that the story fills itself out in ways I did not expect at all. As far as I knew, Agache was never going to tell anyone what he went through as a prisoner of the king, and I rather thought that was for the best.

He shared. No one was expecting it. Certainly not me.

“That is, I fear, as much as I can do to relieve the pain and help the bruising,” Anokii told the queen, applying as much of the herbs to her skin as she dared. She might even have been too generous with the lavande, but the queen was in pain and could not help showing it. At least those plants would ease the sting and reduce the visibility of the marks. She stepped back, nodding at her work, hoping it would be enough to allow the queen to continue on.

“One more thing to test,” Agache said, lifting up the bindings and bringing them over to her. “We should have made certain these still appeared to fit before we left, but I did not want to force you back into them before it was necessary.”

“I am glad you did not,” the queen said, closing her eyes as he set the necklace in place.

“Remember, that is not the fake. The king can still hurt you with it, and as soon as you lock it in place, you will not be able to take it off,” Agache said, frowning as he adjusted the necklace around the queen’s neck. He shook his head. “I do not like this. We should have had—if there was more time or if we could send you across the border—”

“And start a war? I do not think so.”

He sighed. “There should be another way. I cannot think of it, but I still do not like this. Perhaps someone else will have an answer.”

“Someone else?”

“I am going to the south to meet with the leaders of the resistance. It is a meeting that is overdue—they do not all know that I am alive—and I do not think I can delay it any longer. I have not been as… effective here as I should like.”

The queen reached up, taking the necklace off, frowning at him. “How long will you be gone?”

“That depends. The journey south is at least two days if one rushes, and I do not know how long I will be in conference with them.”

“Are you certain they will let you come back at all?”

Agache blinked. “What?”

“It is something I think you have failed to consider—as have the rest of us, cousin,” Anokii said, for now that the queen had voiced that concern, she could not help worrying as well. They had discussed often how the queen was a tool, someone they could use, but if she was one, Agache was even more so. The resistance would want to reveal his survival, give the people someone to rally behind, someone they had already loved and mourned. They had used him as a martyr, but oh, how they would love to raise that martyr from the dead, to make him the figurehead of their rebellion. They could win over any who lacked faith with a man who had escaped death. They could exploit the fact that he was the only heir the king had. He might not be allowed to return, not until they were ready to use him.

“I do not know that they would do such a thing. I am more useful working as I have always done.”

“I doubt that. How many times have you berated yourself for failing to go out before that crowd? How many times have you said that should have been you? That is the sort of thing people would want from you, not your work in the shadows.”

He grimaced. “I do not want to believe that. All that they would do is make me a target, and they do not want him to act as a hunter. If he is after prey, if he starts down the path of Gichikane bloodlust, there will be no stopping him.”

“Something stopped him before.”

Agache shook his head. “Torture is not the same for him. I… What I know of the Gichikane is lessened by my Nebkasha ancestry, but if I spill blood, I want to spill more. One death is not enough. Notice how the bindings do not have sharp edges. They do not draw blood. That is how he must hurt people, or he would not get any prolonged torment from them. He would kill if he saw blood. He did not… He wanted to keep hurting me, to make the torture last, so when the marks went too deep into my skin, when they bled, he had to remove himself and kill someone else to sate it. His mistake was leaving me alone then. The Gichikane in me gave me strength enough to get up and out of there, to ignore the suns…”

“Agache—”

“Do your best to avoid the king until we have the copy. If you must interact with him, be as careful as you can. If you need anything, Anokii and Gekin will help you with it.”

He turned, pulling his hood over his head as he crossed the room. Anokii let out a breath as he disappeared into the passage to the catacombs. Perhaps Gekin would encounter him and be able to help. She did not know that Agache should be alone. That was the most he’d ever admitted about his time in the king’s hands, and she wanted to remove that pain from him though she knew that was impossible.

“His strength… It would not have ended. The king would never have been merciful enough to let him die, would he?”

“No.”

Author’s Note: So every time this scene was playing out in my head, the jeweler was present and asking about the metal and stones for the necklace. He didn’t even enter into this version, but I don’t think he needs to. This way seems better.

“No. Do not ask me to…”

“No one is asking you to do anything but lie still, Jis.”

She opened her eyes, frowning, not certain how she’d gone from her room back in her father’s castle to this strange small room. The roof was thatched with long reeds that should never have grown in the twin suns, ones she thought perhaps had been taken from the border near her homeland. Was that why she had remembered her father’s last visit?

She grimaced. She did not need to think about that right now.

“Where am I?”

“The jeweler’s,” Agache answered, shifting beside her. She became aware of her hand’s dampness as it clutched someone else’s. His. She had his hand, and she did not know how long she’d been grasping it, but she had to let it go. “I suppose you don’t quite remember that part, do you?”

“The necklace.”

He nodded. “The king left it tightened around your neck, and we had no other means of removing it. Since he took it off, he has been studying it—creating molds in order to replicate it. The others went back to your room in case someone might look for you.”

“You stayed?”

“You were unwilling to release my hand despite your lack of consciousness. I decided that I may as well remain with you.”

She withdrew her hand. “I have not done that since the first time I was knocked unconscious in training. I did not release my mother’s hand for almost a day. I am sorry. I did not think it would happen or I would not have taken yours.”

“It is nothing. I was not harmed.”

She turned over onto her side, hating the confining fabric of her court dress. “I wish I had made it to my room. Ridding myself of my other torture device would have helped.”

“Other torture—Oh. The dress. Yes, I imagine that is most uncomfortable. I don’t suppose that one has any removable pieces? You might be able to take one of the layers off—indeed, you might have to in order to have your cloak cover your dress.”

“You carried me here without a cloak?”

“I did not carry you anywhere.”

She grunted. “So Gekin did. That is not what I asked. Do not be difficult. I am not—I almost died earlier, didn’t I? Why should I have any sort of… tolerance or humor at the moment?”

“I cannot give you any reason to have either. Oh, I suppose I might be able to tell you a story should you desire one, distract you as you wait and recover from earlier, since you will need that necklace back in place before we leave, but that is no guarantee of your mood improving. The sort of despondency that comes with an attack from the king is not easy to remove. It does not wash off like dirt might. No, it is a stain. A dark one that forever reminds us of what was done.”

“What did he do to you?”

Agache shook his head. “That is not worth discussing. You need not learn the details of torture for I hope you never repeat such acts, and sympathy, too, is a waste, for I have need of none. We must continue our efforts to end matters, not think of what was.”

She closed her eyes. Was Wikan married yet? Would he have chosen someone else if he thought she’d never return? He knew her to be married, so he must assume that she would never be free to accept his offer, and he had been frustrated long before her departure, thinking she would never say yes even if she’d been able. The idea of a future with him was even more impossible now than it had been when she first contemplated it. Even if the king died, she would not be free.

“Jis? Are you hurting? I have no skill with herbs, but my cousin assured me that I could give you some without causing any harm.”

She looked at him. “It was… I thought of the past. I shouldn’t have, but there was… I had hopes of things that seem so foolish now. I had thought maybe I’d… Did you ever want a family?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… There was always too much risk. Passing on the Gichikane blood would have been deterrent enough, but Nebkasha marriages are forbidden, as I told you, and even were they not, the king would have more people to hurt if I cared about anyone. I’d have condemned my offspring or my wife to a life of fear and pain until the release of death.”

“You must be very lonely.”

He let out a breath. “I… I do not think I feel it the same way that you might. It is, I fear, the Gichikane in me—I do not believe I am capable of such deep attachment. I felt very little when my sisters were murdered, and though I am… close to my cousin, she is not… she is not reason enough to want to live.”

Jis frowned. “That is horrible, Agache.”

He touched her hand. “I am your ally. You are not alone. Not that my company should be counted as any great blessing, but you have it nonetheless. I will go see if the jeweler is done with the repairs, and you may alter your garments if you want.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“This was my doing, remember? My inaction caused this. Stop thanking me.”

“Not for that. For being my ally. For telling me I am not alone.”

“Oh. That. Well… Then… you are welcome.”

Author’s Note: I wanted to write this scene, wanted to give a glimpse of Jis before she became the queen, and this was one of the most important moments in her life before she left her homeland.

This has to be a memory that she went back to often after she became queen, too.

“You must pack your things.”

She set down her book. “How did we manage that? I thought that the Biskane were unwilling to stop their conquest once it had begun. Of course, we are somewhat fortunate in that the conquest has not begun, but that does not mean that they would have wanted a treaty.

Jis stilled. That explained it, then. They expected her to go into the Biskane land and protect her half-sister. She didn’t know how they thought that would work. The tricks that could be accomplished here, where the people did not see the princesses much, would not fool the king. He would know his wife—or at least he should.

She had been foolish. She had come to hope that when Zaze at last married, she’d be free to have things that she had been denied before. She could finally accept Wikan’s offer, could let him court her. They would both be esibani for the rest of their lives, but Zaze’s marriage was supposed to free Jis from the same role as always. She would not have to pretend to be Zaze, she would still guard her, but it would not be as it was.

“You will do what you must for your people. You always have.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You are my daughter. You are esibani. You will do what is necessary.”

She did cry.

Author’s Note: I wrote a version of this scene, hated the ending, and then reconsidered it. I did not like the way they’d talked about the queen as though she was not there when she was, so I moved that conversation to a point before they found her. That seemed better to me, but I am still a bit iffy about the ending.

“He let her go, but she is not here in her room,” Anokii said, almost disappointed to find the bed empty as well as the rest of the rooms. The queen was not hiding—she would perhaps have been tempted after what the king had done—not in this place, at least, and she had no other available refuge.

No, wait, there was one. Anokii had almost forgotten about it.

Gekin nodded, pushing back his hood as he looked around the chamber. He should not risk the sunlight, but the queen’s curtains were drawn, as she preferred to keep them. “I came from the catacombs. She was not there. She would have been able to make it there, not if what you say is true.”

“He did not loosen the bands before he told her to go. She would have struggled to make it this far,” Agache said. He moved toward the other door. “Come. We must find the path that she used—perhaps she became disoriented and took the wrong one, though I would not have taken the same one as her. I needed to be less… overt.”

Gekin pulled his hood back over his head. “Grab her cloak. We will need it.”

Anokii did, frowning as she picked it up and folded it over her arm. “Even if we are able to dress the queen in one of our cloaks, our party will be stopped and questioned by the guards. We cannot explain her condition or the fact that Gekin will have to carry her.”

“I could carry her—”

“You know you cannot. Do not suggest it again. She may be a small woman, but your arm will not permit you to be so foolish.” Anokii stepped through the door as Gekin opened it for her. She could not help worrying. This could expose everything, including Agache, but they could not allow the queen to die even if she were not their ally. “I do not like this. You know we are not allowed to treat our wounded or our ill, not within the castle. Those old lies about us, about the Nebkasha being full of disease, a contagion waiting to kill the entire population… We will be thrown out of the castle grounds and left in the twin suns to die.”

“You do not have to come with us. With me, even,” Agache told her. “I will do this alone. It is my responsibility—I let her take my place and she suffers for it.”

“You would drop her before you took two steps. I am going.”

“I will also go. Perhaps I can do something for her before we move her.”

“She will have need of your skills once we get that thing off of her,” Agache said. “Until then, there is little that can be done. What she needs is to be able to breathe, and none of us can give her that. We must take her to someone who can.”

Anokii did not think her cousin understood the situation. He needed to believe they could save the queen or else the guilt would consume him, but he could not afford to deceive himself now. “If the necklace is destroyed, the king will hurt her again, and it will be. Only the king has the key to that thing, and he will not give it to anyone. He would rather have her his prisoner, locked up in that so that he could torture her at any time—if he does not kill her first. If you wish to prevent that, then… perhaps we should take her to the border.”

Agache’s head jerked back toward Anokii. “You told me you asked and she refused to go. Now you would send her without her consent?”

“She could die. We might not get her to the jeweler in time.”

“And we would have no chance of getting her to the border. That is much further, and if you are worried about her health, you would not suggest such a thing. Do you, then, believe she must be saved not only from the necklace but from herself?”

“Her decisions seem only to do her harm.”

“Nevertheless, they are hers to make, not ours. You can no more choose her path than you can mine or Gekin’s. Not that you would have to choose his—he would join you anywhere.”

“Of course I would,” Gekin said, “but that does not mean that she is wrong about the queen. The woman would seem to have more of an inclination to place herself in the way of harm than you, and that is not something I would have believed possible.”

Agache laughed. “I am not the only one with those inclinations. You and Anokii have risked your lives in foolish ways as well. Jis is no worse than any of the rest of us. Well, considering how she was raised, this is nothing.”

Anokii would have questioned him, wanting to know what he knew about the queen’s childhood and why he called her Jis, but they could not have that discussion now. They should not be talking at all, not here, not where anyone could hear Agache’s voice and reveal his survival.

“There,” Agache said, pointing to a small alcove in the hallway. “Quick, Gekin, lift her up. We do not have much time.”

Gekin stepped forward, stopping beside the huddled mess that was the queen had become when she collapsed. He knelt beside her, lifting her into his arms. Anokii would have thought that the queen was dead until the woman started to squirm in Gekin’s hold, shoving at him. “Let… go…”

Agache reached for her hand, wrapping his around it. “Calm yourself, my esibani. Gekin is here to help. We must take you to the jeweler. He should be able to loosen the bands, even if he has to break them, and if he does, he can repair them. It will also give him an opportunity to study the necklace in order to make the copy. We cannot steal it to take it to him—we must steal you instead.”

“Oh.”

“Just rest. We will help you. I promise, and when this is over, I will meet with the other resistance leaders and find a way to end this for good.”

She closed her eyes again, holding tight to his hand. Gekin looked at it and frowned. “This may not be possible if she will not let go.”

“I think you should try,” Anokii told him. She lowered her head. “We cannot deny the woman what little comfort she can have at present, and she may become agitated if she is unable to hold onto you.”

Author’s Note: On another post, I said I felt sorry for the queen and the position I put her in, that it was a very tenuous balance between how terrible her situation could be and what it was, that one mistake could tip that balance. It did.

Not that she made the wrong choice in helping the people. She had to do it. It just wasn’t something she could do without repercussions, and well… it could have been worse. I wasn’t willing to write that, though.

As I went to post this, all I could think of for the title was that quote, “all that glitters is not gold.”

“I have neglected this for too long,” the king said, stepping to the edge of the balcony. His lips twisted into a smile with too much malice in it, turning back and raising his hand, gesturing toward her. “My people, your queen.”

The king pulled her forward, and she tried to keep herself still, to fight against the instincts that told her to run or to fight. She did not know what would be worse. She might kill the king—though if what she had been told about the king were true, then perhaps all she would do was kill herself. She would reveal her training, and then they would not uphold the treaty. She could not run, either, for that would surely condemn her people. She had to stay, she had to endure whatever he was about to do, and she could not let herself falter now.

She had chosen to intervene, had decided that she should be the hope of the people since Agache must remain hidden, and if she faltered, she would take that hope away once more.

“I believe you know what she has done for you, and now it is time to do something for her,” the king said, and she watched him, almost convinced that he would throw her off the balcony despite the treaty and everyone’s assumption that he would use the necklace as his mark. He leaned close to her ear. “I hear you would like to fly. Should we see if you can?”

“If you wish. Perhaps I will turn into a bird and fly after all.”

“Is that what you do in death?”

She would rather hope so, but she did not think there would be anything after that fall. The king laughed, and she tried to prepare herself for the end. She could accept it as darkness, sleeping forever. Yes, that would be fine. Almost peaceful.

“A queen deserves a mark worthy of her status, do you not agree?” He asked, looking at the crowd, and she was rather dismayed to hear them clapping. They agreed, but they did not understand. At least, she hoped that they did not.

One of the Biskane attendants moved forward, carrying a box in his hands, and the king waved another over to it. He opened it and bowed as he backed away. The king lifted the necklace out of the box, holding it up for the crowd to see. The silence that met it told her enough—as much as the metal and stones gleamed in the light of the suns, as beautiful as the necklace would seem to be, they knew what it meant.

He carried it over to her, and she could feel the bands tightening around her neck even before he brought it close. The metal felt as though it had been stored in the catacombs until now, cool as it settled against her skin, a sense of what was to come, even as contact with her and the sunlight heated it. She thought perhaps it would burn—no, she knew it would if she remained out here for much longer. The sound of the clasps locking in place made her shudder, and she would have run if she thought she would have made it more than a few steps away.

The king tugged on one of the chains, smiling down at her. “How does that feel?”

She choked, trying to fight against the way the bands cut off her voice. She could not breathe. Her hand wanted to reach for it, to try and rip it off, but she knew she wouldn’t get it off that way. Her fingers closed over the fabric concealing the blade, and she almost ripped it free, ready to plunge it into him, ready to take him with her as she died.

He loosened the chains, and she drew in a breath, desperate, aware that he was laughing at her. Agache was right. The king’s face betrayed his intent, just as it had before, when he kissed her, and she felt her stomach turn as he stole another, crushing her lips and robbing her of her breath again.

She thought he’d tell her to expect him in her chamber tonight. That made her sick.

He stepped back, his finger touching her forehead and down her face, along each of the bands, making her think he would go all the way to the low point of her neckline, but he stopped at the final band. “You should be happy.”

“What?”

He smiled at her. “Now, with those jewels, for once in your life, you can feel beautiful.”

She choked. “Bagquin.”

The bands tightened again, and he leaned close to her. “You will learn silence. Now go.”

She glared at him. “Not… before… you… release… me.”

“You expect me to take it off? That will not happen. You have your reprieve. Go or I will throw you off this balcony.”

She swallowed, not doubting his words. He would do it, even if it meant war. She could not be allowed to defy him, not in the smallest of ways. If she stayed, he would ensure that she suffered, whether it was because of the necklace or his threat to make her fall. She should take what she could and run. She didn’t have much choice.

She forced herself to bow before she left. She did not know that she could make it all the way back to her chamber, not without stopping to rest several times, and even then, she might not be capable of it, not when she could not truly breathe.