Author’s Note: Gekin has a point. They should have thought of it sooner.

“She sleeps?”

Anokii nodded, glancing toward the queen. “She does. She did not for a long time, but she did still after several hours. Did you speak to the jeweler, then?”

Gekin nodded. “He agreed to help, but I fear it is not the solution Agache hoped it was or that he led her to believe. Such a device cannot be replicated without considerable time to study it. Even if he managed to get it to the jeweler now, I do not believe that the man can prepare a copy good enough to fool the king in one night. No, I must correct myself—I know that he cannot. It is simply not possible.”

Anokii winced. She shook her head. She did not like this. Legend said that the bindings of the betrayed princess were the cause of her death. The king had lost his temper one time too many, and she had died at his hands. If this queen were to be made to wear them, then she would almost certainly reenact the legend. “Gekin, if the king puts that thing on her—and he will—he could kill her in an instant. Even if he does not kill her, he can torture her. He will.”

Gekin put a hand on her shoulder. Anokii turned into his embrace. The queen was not her friend, nor were they the best of allies, but she did not know how any of them could watch this happen. They needed something more than what Agache had suggested. They could not place their hopes on the jeweler alone. “What will we do?”

“I can offer to take her to the border. It is the only thing that will stop the king. Otherwise, she will have to endure the bindings until the jeweler is finished with his copy. I do not know of any other option.”

“That is no option. Her departure would mean war. She will not do it.”

He let out a breath, turning toward the inner chamber. “She is too much like your cousin, then. Too much like you.”

Anokii snorted. “She is a queen. I am little better than a slave. Nevertheless, we must wake her. She must be informed of the situation, and once she is, she will have to choose. We cannot decide for her. Nor can we cannot assume we know her answer.”

“You wish me to stay?”

“Of course. I always do, even though the circumstances will not allow for us to have time to ourselves. Yet I cannot ask you to remain when I know that you must have other duties. You need the queen’s answer, of course, but you cannot spend all your time here.”

He touched her cheek. “I would, for you, but you are correct. I must see to more than the queen. I must stay to hear her answer, though, since if she is to leave, she must do so now.”

Anokii took his hand, leading him over to the queen’s side. “My lady, I am sorry to wake you, but Gekin has learned something that you must hear.”

The queen stirred, her eyes opening. She blinked, confused. “Anokii? What—What is it I need to know?”

“The jeweler cannot forge a copy of the bindings—”

“Not at all?” the queen asked, sitting up. “You mean to say that he refused?”

“No. He was more than willing to help, but he cannot make it overnight. The king may put the bindings on you before the fake can be made. He may put them on you today, before the second sun rises.”

“That is not much time.”

“No, it is not, and therefore you must make a decision immediately—I can take you to the border now. I know the best routes, safe and fast.”

The queen sighed. “No. I cannot do that. My people would suffer if I did. I will not abandon them to the king’s ire. I made the choice to go out to the crowd here, and if that means that I must suffer, then I must accept the pain. I… I did not come here in ignorance, nor did I intervene thinking that there would not be repercussions.”

“Agache did not tell you that the queen those bindings were made for died wearing them.”

“I must hope, then, that he remains unready for war,” the queen said, rising. “I will ask only that we get the forgery made quickly.”

“We will do all that we can, but I cannot promise that it will be ready within days or even weeks. If we had only thought to make it when you were first brought here—”

“That is not something that can be changed. If you do not mind, I should like to begin my preparations for the day. You may… take what time you can and spend it with each other if you like, though it is not for me to order you about.”

“You will need me to help you with your dress.”

“Yes, but not right now.”

Gekin touched Anokii’s arm. “I think what she truly desires is to be alone. Come. We will give her that time—and take some for ourselves.”

She knew she should not smile, but she believed he understood the situation correctly, and she did not think they could be blamed for wanting to say goodbye before he went to attend to his other tasks. She turned to the queen. “Is… Is there anything you need? Are you certain that we cannot assist you in any way?”

The queen shook her head. “No, not now, thank you, Anokii. I will… Should I need anything, I will ask.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Author’s Note: So… the conversation between the king and queen just before this is one that’s… hmm, unpleasant, I guess, and so while I did post it, I wasn’t going to draw extra attention to it. Still, I figured I’d better explain why there are two parts to this serial today.

It’s Wednesday, and to include the words from Three Word Wednesday, trample, vigilant, and helpless, I am putting up two sections. This one was already set to follow the last one, it just needed a bit of editing first.

“I thought you would have been listening.”

Agache lifted his head, his eyes betraying a hint of anger at the queen’s accusation. She had not intended to speak in that manner, but her encounter with the king left her distressed. She could blame Agache in some sense, and perhaps she did.

He shook his head. “I am not someone who spends all his time skulking in shadows and prying into other’s conversations. I was not… I could not stay close when I knew you were with the king.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“He may well already know that I am alive. The blood we share… It stirs in the company of another who possesses it. He would have known that I was there. I could do nothing, not even listen, without him knowing. I… Anokii was there for part of it before she came to advise me and Gekin of the conversation’s direction and ask what we could do, what we would do.”

The queen glanced toward the others. Anokii lowered her head, not looking at her, and Gekin put his hand on her shoulder. The queen did not know what to think of them. “Oh. Then… You were not there for the end.”

Anokii shook her head. “No. You appear unharmed, which is both a surprise and a relief. Unless I am mistaken. Did he harm you?”

The king should have, and they all knew it. The queen did not know why he had not. “Not yet. He says he wants to put a mark on me. What does that mean?”

The queen heard Gekin curse first, but he wasn’t alone in doing so. Agache did as well, rising from the rock and pacing with agitation. Anokii folded her hands together, looking like she might be praying, but to what deity and why, the queen could not guess.

“I should have anticipated this. He knows now that you can sway the people. He must show that he controls you even if you control the people.”

The queen would not say that—she had only asked them to leave. She did not control anyone. She almost regretted asking, but how could she let that happen? Those people would all have died. “He would have trampled them with his soldiers.”

“Yes, he would have. It is because of you that they live.” Agache stopped, leaning against the wall. “You should not have had to go out there. I should have done it.”

She did not want to discuss this again. “You know why you could not. I accept what I have done and the consequences of my actions. I am not helpless.”

“No, you are not, but the mark he will put upon you will not be easy to bear.”

“You sound certain of what it will be.”

“It will be a jewel. A necklace.”

“That’s a mark? He made it sound like he’d carve up my body or… Well, I don’t think we need to discuss the other things I was thinking of.”

Agache shook his head. “Do not think of it as a respite, Jis. It isn’t. If he does what I believe he will, he’ll give you the bindings of the conquered queen. They… It is several bands that go from the base of your neck to your chin, ones that can be tightened and loosened as he sees fit. Yes, it is a beautiful piece, with several rare and valuable stones as well as the metal that it is fashioned from, but it is a cruel device that he will use to choke you whenever he pleases.”

She sat down, shaking her head. “What am I supposed to do, then? He made it clear that if I refused him, he’d hurt me, but if I don’t refuse him—”

“We can attempt to have a copy made, one that will not allow him to choke you, but you will have to learn to watch for when he expects it, and if you do not make him think that it works properly, he will be far angrier and unmanageable.”

“That’s your solution? How am I to know when he’s doing it if the device isn’t working?”

“You learn. He has a certain look to his face.”

She felt her stomach twist. “Did he use this thing on you?”

“No. I would have looked quite foolish with that around my neck, but I know him well enough to know when he wishes to inflict violence. I was not a favorite for that—since I had to wear the cloak, I did not show the marks he left behind as he wanted.”

“Agache—”

“I told you that I would not ask you to kill him. Do not suggest it again.”

She let out a breath. “I was not going to, but all the same, I don’t understand. We all know it would be simpler if he died, and even Malzhi getting the throne cannot be worse than him, can it?”

“Legend says that his people killed dragons and used their blood to give themselves longer lives. Whether the legend is true or not, the people of this land do not die easy.”

“Omamhi did.”

“He is not of royal blood. The royals can live for centuries.”

“How old are you, then?”

Agache laughed. “I am more of a child in comparison. Do not worry so much about my age. I am old enough to do what must be done and to know what that is. That is all that matters.”

“So you say. Why should I trust anything you say? You never answer with any sense of clarity unless it might mean someone’s death.”

He smiled. “You do tend to provoke that response in me. It is remarkably easy and endlessly entertaining to annoy you like this.”

She glared at him. “This is not funny. We were discussing an instrument of torture that the king wants to put on me just a moment ago, and now you’re going to—”

“I have seen the king at his worst, and I know full well how grave a matter that is. However, I have learned—we all have learned—to take our small moments when we can. Why do you think that those two are always disappearing when we start talking of matters that do not concern them?” He gestured to Anokii and Gekin, who frowned, though the queen thought perhaps they felt guilty as well. “They take the time they have and use all of it as best they can. There are things the king can do that can destroy you—in body and in mind—and I think part of what frustrates you so much is the aftermath of what he did do to my mind. I am not what I was. My humor is… not kind, and I worry about what that means for me and what I might become.”

“Perhaps you should become a lantern full time. That cannot harm anyone, now can it?”

Agache laughed. “Very nice, my esibani, but for all that I glow down here, out of the catacombs, I’d be of no use at all, and that is not something I can allow myself to be. Gekin, find that jeweler and see if he will cooperate with us. I will go for the necklace myself.”

Anokii turned to her cousin. “Agache—”

“I know the castle better than anyone. It was my home. I was raised there. I can do this. Anokii, help Jis back to her rooms. It is possible the king will return for her tonight. He will want to see her fear keep her from slumber. We must be vigilant. I may be mistaken in his intent, and even if I am not, there is Malzhi to consider. He may feel it is time to move against the queen.”

She shuddered. Anokii touched her arm. “You will not be alone tonight. We will watch.”

“Is there anything you can do if either of them comes?”

“Anokii is capable of much more than you think.”

The queen nodded, ashamed of how she had treated the other woman. Agache pulled his cloak over his shoulders, and she forced herself to speak. “Thank you. For the necklace.”

“I haven’t replaced it yet.”

“I know. I appreciate your willingness to try.”

He shook his head. “Considering that you are in this position because of me, this is the least I should do. Do not thank me. What I might do is nothing compared to what you have already done.”

She thought he looked different somehow. His glow had faded, and not just because he had covered himself in the cloak. “Agache—”

“Let him go,” Anokii advised. “We must return you to your room before anyone looks for you.”

Author’s Note: So this scene is one of those ones that manages to tear me in two directions. It’s not that I don’t like it. I actually do. That’s what bothers me. It’s dark and hints at terrible things, and I shouldn’t like it. I almost didn’t want to post it. Still, it is a part of the story and unfortunately for the queen… necessary.

The king said nothing as they walked back to her room. She did not know what to think of the silence. He had not gripped her arm as Malzhi did, but that did not mean that he was not angry. The king could—would—hurt her.

He pushed her into her room, and she was, in part, relieved to see that it was empty. At the same time, she was not. She would have liked to know that Anokii or one of the others was nearby. She did not expect their intervention, but she would have preferred not to be so alone now.

The door shut behind the king, and she tried not to shudder. She did not want to be isolated, shut away with him. He could do anything to her here, and no one would see. No one would help her. She could not expect any intervention, and she would have to rely on her training, hoping to do better than she had with Omamhi.

She felt her stomach twist. She did not want to kill. She did not know that it could be avoided, but if she killed the king, what would that do to this land, to hers? Would Malzhi gain the power? Would his obsession with her save her people or condemn them?

She did not think they could remove the king from the throne without removing Malzhi as well.

“I heard that Malzhi has been most attentive in my absence.”

She stilled. She did not know when the king had reached her and Malzhi, and she did not know how long he had watched her, but she could not help worrying all the same. True, she had done no exercise that might betray her training to him, Malzhi, or the crowd, and she had been dressed in her full court attire, but she still felt vulnerable, and she did not care for it. “He has been persistent, but his attentions were not necessary. I had no interest in his offers.”

“You didn’t?”

She considered making comments about no woman wanting Malzhi, but she did not think that the king would appreciate them, nor would he believe them. She faced him. “Would you like proof?”

The king took hold of her arm, dragging her forward until she was right in front of him. His eyes studied her face, and she forced herself not to flinch, willing herself not to recoil from his breath. He’d eaten raw meat or worse before he came to the gates. He might have been enjoying the spectacle, waiting in gleeful expectation for the crowds to be slaughtered. She had spoiled his… fun. He would hurt her for that.

“How strange. I think you are telling the truth.”

“You thought my offer of proof was a bluff?”

He grabbed her by the hair. She gasped but did not cry out. “I dislike your attitude. You had almost earned yourself mercy, but you ruined it.”

She needed his mercy, as much as that thought galled her. “I do not appreciate being called a liar, especially given what that lie implied. I was not unfaithful. I do not treat the oaths I have taken—as your wife, as the queen, as a part of peace between our lands—as things that can be broken.”

He glared at her. “You are too proud. I should break you.”

She wanted to laugh and tell him to try, but she knew that this was only a small part of the evil she saw in him. She knew he would do more than try, and she also knew that she would break. She was not strong enough for this. “Please. Don’t.”

“That is better.” He let go of her, and she let out a breath. She had only just closed her eyes before he had hold of her again, bruising her arm. “I think you are not the only one who needs a reminder of who you belong to. Malzhi and the people must know that you are mine. Mine alone.”

“What are you going to do?” She hated asking, but the ideas she came up with scared her. She had to know before panic overwhelmed her. Perhaps it would not be as bad as she thought. She knew it would hurt, that much seemed certain. A public beating, perhaps, or worse…

“It is customary for the wife to bear the mark of her husband.”

She ran her tongue along her lips, fighting against the dryness of her throat. Her voice did not want to come. “A mark? Like… a brand?”

He smiled at her, and she winced. Agache and the resistance had some sort of plan, but at the moment, her fear wanted to destroy her confidence in it and him—in all her allies. She would give almost anything for one of his interventions, though. She knew she could save herself, but that would mean killing the king, and she knew they were not ready for that.

“Each man decides what his mark will be, but once he has made it, no one can deny it. The mark is plain and visible and known to all.”

She thought of the scar on Agache’s arm and wondered if she would have something similar. Still, if it was one that would have to be visible, it would not be on her arm. “I think I’d prefer that you put it on my wrist. My woman’s vanity does not want it on my face.”

The king laughed. “Is that so? Perhaps I want to mar that face of yours. What then?”

She sighed. “What am I supposed to do? Refuse? Or would you rather that I beg again?”

“I have something special for you. A woman who cannot hold her tongue might just learn how to do so… if she is properly taught.”

She shuddered, watching him walk away rubbing her hands over her arms. Despite the fact that both suns were out, she felt a chill she could not escape.

Author’s Note: Having Malzhi confront the queen first worked to tie in some scenes I’d already written for this story, and besides, he always shows up at moments like this.

“What a queen you are.”

She stiffened, turning back to face Malzhi. She had silenced the crowd, but she did not know that it would matter now that he had opened the gates. She tried to prepare herself for what might come after she revealed herself to the mob, but she had not expected the cooperation that she’d received. She supposed part of it was due to her sudden and rather surprising entrance. Agache had pulled her out of the passage almost right into the middle of the crowd, and she had only a moment to breathe before they noticed her. She did not know that it was her appearance so much as his, though. She felt sure that they had all heard him ask her if she wanted him to stay, and his voice had made them wonder, giving her the opportunity to speak.

She didn’t remember her words. She had stuttered out something inconsequential as a greeting, but they kept silent, and that was what mattered just then. She had been able to reason with them—if she could count a near desperate plea for them to stop and return to their home as reasoning with them.

“Yes, far more of a queen than he has any right to have,” Malzhi said, stepping close to her, and she let out a breath, looking to the crowd that had started to disperse. She wanted them to go before Malzhi had a chance to notice them.

“I asked them to go. That is all.”

He smiled at her, reaching for her, and she took a step backward, stumbling over the rocks in the street, her ankle protesting as she tried to stay upright. She heard a murmur behind her, and she turned, looking at the stragglers. Why had they remained? They knew they would get themselves killed if they did. If they were not willing to leave, the soldiers could harm them.

“You must have gotten wings, my lady, and flown over that wall,” Malzhi said, catching hold of her. His arm circled her waist, and he leaned close to her. “That I could have seen that moment. Where are you hiding them, my lovely bird? Where are those wings?”

“Let go. The king will not like what I have done, but he will like what you did just now even less.”

“Oh, I shall tell him I am just trying to help you know your place.”

“I think the king would disagree with you as to where that is,” she said, forcing him off of her. She pulled at her dress, trying to straighten it. “I should return to my room. Excuse me.”

“I could hardly overlook my duty. Allow me to escort you.”

“It is not your duty.”

“Then it is my desire,” he said, smiling as he took hold of her arm. “You are aware of how striking your actions were today, how very different they were. No one would have expected that of you, most would have thought it impossible, and yet here you are. You have quelled an uprising and escaped the castle all at the same time. You do make me think that there should be wings attached to that dress of yours.”

“Your obsession with birds has become tiresome. As are your… attempts at seduction. I am not interested. I am not a fool. I am the king’s wife, and I will not betray him.”

“What do you call your actions today?”

She lowered her head. “I did what I had to in order to preserve the kingdom. Someone had to stop those people from causing trouble.”

“That is what soldiers are for.”

“Is that what you use to excuse your own inaction? Was it cowardice or indifference that caused you to remain hidden behind the safety of the castle’s walls?”

His grip on her arm turned tight enough to bruise, and she winced. She tried to pull free, but before she could make a true attempt to free herself, Malzhi had released her. He bowed, stiff and formal. “Your majesty.”

She looked at her husband, trying to determine how angry he was. She did not know what the repercussions of her actions would be, but she did have to accept them, whatever they might be. She did not know that he was ready for war, so she might not die, but she would suffer.

Author’s Note: Well, I said I was sending Agache south. I still want to, and he still has good reasons for wanting to go, but there is no way he can under the present circumstances.

“I had thought that we would see her getting herself killed,” Gekin said, drawing Anokii close to him. She did not know how he had known to come to her side, but then he had a sense for those moments. Not every one of them, no, but enough of them, yes. He had made his way to her when she needed him, and she could only close her eyes and breath him in, breath in the comfort of his presence in body and hold, the way he supported her when she wanted to turn away and give in to her weakness. He’d held her for so long the day that the king had Agache arrested, and Anokii knew that she should not compare that moment to this, but she had thought the same as Gekin.

She’d believed the queen would succeed in ensuring her own death, that war was coming, even that she’d take Agache’s life with her own in that foolish act, for Anokii knew that the only one who could have helped the queen outside the gate was her cousin. No one else would dare.

“I wish we could hear more of what she is saying.”

“It would not compare to the silence that greeted her arrival, no matter how fine the speech.”

“True,” Anokii said, thinking of the startled hush that had fallen over the mob as they beheld the woman walking toward them. In unison, the men in front had stepped back, bumping those who pushed behind them, and anger had almost resumed the riot until those standing further back took in the queen in her bedraggled finery, staring on in confusion. None of the nobles left the castle by choice, and for the queen—who many believed to be a prisoner—to have done it was even more impossible.

“She has a true air of command. I think she would not care to know it, though.”

“You should not have helped her,” Anokii said, lifting her head from Gekin’s arms to peer back at her cousin. “Are you testing her again?”

“I fear she has already passed any test I might offer, that she has gone beyond what I might hope or want… The timing is unfortunate. I need to go to the south. I was hoping to leave today.”

“The south?” Gekin turned around, keeping hold on Anokii’s shoulder. “Why would you do that? Now of all times? You are needed here. You have to deal with the repercussions of the queen’s act. Even if Onigan does not wish to admit it, you are the one who gives the orders for every member of the resistance in this area, not him.”

“I am not leaving before I know how the king will react, but you know that it is past time that I meet with the other leaders. I have delayed it while making my decision about the queen and trying to give her what preparation I might, but you can see—she has no need of my instruction. I should go.”

“The king could kill her for this. You are not so heartless as to abandon her now.”

Agache sighed. “I intended to go before she did this, and I do not like delaying it since I am not certain that we can continue the way I have been. Without consulting the others, I am not confident in my ability to keep making those decisions—”

“And you are lying if that is your only reason for wanting to go.”

“Did you not hear me say that I am not going until we know how the king will react?” Agache let out a breath, leaning against the wall. “She should not have had to go out there. I did not act. I am a coward. I should have done that myself.”

“I do not agree with that, and even if it were true, it was her choice to make. She was determined to do it—she did not allow her own captivity within these walls to stop her. I fear there was little you could have done to alter her decision.”

Agache pushed away from the wall, starting to pace. “It is all cowardice, all of it. I should go confront the king now and—”

“And kill him?” Gekin shook his head. “Do you not remember what happened when he was having you trained as a swordsman?”

“I do not think I can afford to keep letting people die because of my inaction. No amount of fear of what I might do justifies that.”

“The bloodlust of the kings is a part of you, too. You managed to turn away from it once, but can you do so again? They went after dragons for a reason. Killing men stopped being enough for them.”

Anokii drew close to her cousin, taking hold of his arm and stopping him. “Was it last night that you were caught by the guards or this morning as you aided the queen?”

“Last night, but I can still feel it. I do not understand. This… There should not be enough of the Gichikane in me to make me feel this way, and yet I have… There is too much within me. The things the king did to me when I was his prisoner… That corruption lingers, a wound that festers not in my body but in my soul, and I do not know that I can help anyone. I am… I am losing what I was. You told me before to find something to live for, and I have not. I do not know how to…”

“You wish to leave the castle to try and recover?”

“That had been a part of my reasons for going, yes. Still, if the king punishes the queen, if she is forced to suffer for my inaction—”

“If the king was ready for war, he would already have killed her. She is not in too much danger of losing her life.”

Agache snorted. “Anokii, death is not the only punishment he is capable of inflicting. You know I know all too well the sort of things that he is capable of doing, and none of them killed me.”

She cursed. “I am sorry. I did not mean—I am not suggesting that she will be free even if he is not ready for war. My words were thoughtless. I… I am worried about you, and I have acted… callous toward the queen’s situation.”

Gekin shook his head. “You did try to stop her, and it is not as if you have harmed her, not deliberately and not by indifference, either.”

“She thinks I hate her.”

“I think the people love her.”

Agache moved toward the rail, looking down. “This could be worse than I thought.”

Author’s Note: So… I had planned on sending Agache off to meet with the other resistance leaders, but he decided he had to be there to help the queen again. I guess he has to do it after this. I’d say I feel sorry for him, but… I don’t.

He did need to be here for at least one part of this, though. He needed to tell the queen that because she needed to hear it.

The crowds’ noise was overwhelming near the gates, and she found that reassuring. Silence might have meant that the soldiers had begun to attack the civilians. She did not want this to turn into the slaughter that she knew it could be. Beyond the wall led to chaos, and she should be considered a great fool for trying to get there. She could order the gates open, but she knew that command would be meaningless. No one listened to her, even if she was the queen. The soldiers had orders to keep her inside the castle walls, and she could not be certain that they would not kill her if she managed to get outside.

“You should have asked Anokii for a way out of the castle.”

“I did. She refused to tell me of any others besides the one to the catacombs, and that would trap me away from where I need to be.” She turned around, not able to tell Agache from any of the other shadows in this section of the courtyard, though they would not conceal him for long. “Are you going to help me, then, or do you have the same opinion?”

“I should tell you not to do anything, or at least not to put yourself in the position you’re thinking of. The crowds might kill you, the soldiers might kill you, and if they do not, then you might not survive the king. You cannot be certain that you will help any of them. Those you want to aid might hurt you instead.”

“Did they ever do that to you?”

“My position was different,” he said, and she heard something she thought was rocks shifting. She frowned, trying to locate him. There. That shadow had moved, hadn’t it? “If you are determined to go, give me your hand. I cannot tell you the path to follow. I must lead you through it.”

“And get yourself killed?”

He laughed, and she felt his hand take hers. That had been his shadow, then. She smiled as he pulled her close to the wall. “I am a dead man, after all. You need not worry about me. You are the one risking your life now.”

“They lost hope when they lost you.”

“And you wish to give it to them?” He asked, helping her through a small gap in the wall, one that she did not think he should be able to fit in, not after the trouble it gave her. He was larger than she was, but perhaps his people possessed another quality that made Malzhi call them worms, the ability to squeeze in and out of small spaces.

“I do not know that I can give them hope, but I do want to try and stop them before the soldiers do. If they act, people will die. I do not want that to happen.” She stumbled after him, trying to keep pace without getting caught on the stones. The passage was as cramped as it was dark, and she knew now why he said he’d have to lead her through it. She did not think she could have found the entrance, and she did not know if there were any side passages amongst the jagged edges. “How did you find this place, and how do you know how to pass through it without injury?”

“Practice. I had many reasons to escape from the castle when I was a child. I would think you could learn it if you try, but if you do, try and use one of your other dresses.”

“Had I known that this was the way I’d have to use to get outside, I would have. I had thought it best to appear as the queen, but I could not get anywhere where I could speak to the crowd.”

“A good plan if not for the circumstances that require use of this passage to reach the outside.”

“Oh, I am so glad you approve, Agache. Let me test every one of my plans with you in the future.”

He stopped, and she caught sight of his face as the cloak fell back. “I assure you—if I thought you were incapable of acting on your own, I would never have revealed myself to you. You would be a poor ally if you could not think for yourself. We must all do that or none of us will accomplish anything.”

She nodded, and he started on again, his hair illuminating stains upon the walls that she thought might have been made by blood. His blood? From all his attempts to escape?

“Here,” he said, rising from his knees and helping her into a wider gap. “This is… This hollow will allow you to make choices, should you need it. I found, sometimes, that it was a good place to overhear the guards. They will discuss things without realizing that there is not solid stone behind them. That path there will lead you out, and that one there… That one leads to where my former rooms were.”

“Did you make this passage?”

“And compromise the wall? I am not an architect. I would not know what was right to collapse and what wasn’t. This is… It is older than me. Some say it was built to try and free the betrayed princess, but I doubt that legend. I do believe he killed her as soon as his efforts to secure the dragons proved futile, and when he did… the last of the good in him died. The true oppression began.”

“How long ago was that? I know it has been several centuries since the land that once was between ours and this one fell to him, but your people were taken before that, weren’t they?”

“Yes. Had your land been available as a refuge before, we might not be in the state we are now. I believe there are only a thousand or so of us left.”

“You can rebuild if you are given the chance. Let us try and make that opportunity. First, though, I must try and quell that crowd before anyone dies.”

He nodded. “Let me go first.”

She shook her head. “No. When this is done, when the king has lost his power and ability to hurt these people, they will need someone to trust to help lead them. You were their minister before, and you will be again. You are far more valuable to them than a false queen.”

“Jis, I do not know if you have quite realized this yet, but what you are doing for these people makes you anything but a false queen,” he said, ducking out through the stones. She frowned, not sure how there was any kind of exit there, even after he’d pointed it out the direction to her. She’d assumed it was farther away.

She saw his hand poke through the gap, and she took it, stepping out into the light, hoping she had enough strength for what she needed to do.

Author’s Note: So I debated and debated for a bit, wrote a couple of scenes out of order, and since I knew that I needed a bit of plot between the story time scene and the next few, a gap that the new scenes I really want to share could not fill, I tried to find one. It came to me while driving (it is amazing how many ideas come to me while I’m behind the wheel… I think it’s because writing would love to get in the way of anything responsible that I might do, not that there isn’t a plot running in my head almost constantly, and it is a good thing I can multitask.) I think this is a good direction for the story to go, but I still wish I could share the other scenes.

“What is that?”

“I fear it is a riot,” Anokii said, and the queen could hear the worry in the other woman’s voice as she rose, silently cursing her ankle as she crossed over to the balcony. She could not think about that when the crowds below had been worked into such a frenzy.

“Those are… They are Biskane, aren’t they? Why are they here? Why would they do this?”

Anokii’s hood jerked toward her. “You think that we Nebkasha are the only ones with cause for complaint against the king?”

“Of course not,” the queen said, stung by the accusation and the foolishness of her earlier words. She did know of many grievances the commoners had, she had listened to them, powerless to change anything about their lives, even when she knew that grave injustices were being perpetuated. The poorest of Biskane citizens, while not forced into near slavery as the Nebkasha were, had little better status or means. They could not hope for better with such a cruel king—he demanded tribute from them and gave nothing in return. “I just thought… Are they so foolish so as to be in open revolt like this? What would make them think that this was any sort of answer? The king just killed his own troops—”

“The public may not be aware of that.”

“Still, only the most ignorant person knows that the king is cruel. That his armies are taught to be merciless. Those people… They will all be slaughtered.”

Anokii sighed. “Perhaps that is all they desire. Their lives lack hope, and perhaps it seems easier to end them now rather than prolong their existence.”

“What of your cousin? Is he not hope?”

“He was, but most people believe he is dead, taking with him their only relief from the constant and unreasonable demands that the king and ministers put upon them.”

“And he must remain dead if he is to help anyone.”

Anokii touched the wall next to her, betraying her fingers for a moment before they reddened and she had to withdraw into her cloak. “I do not know if that is true. He would be hunted, all of our people would be harassed as they searched for him, no place that we might have used or might provide shelter in the heat would be left unguarded—he would have to run. However, he could go. He could say that he was alive, and then run, causing great confusion and perhaps offering some hope of his return…”

“Would you want him to leave? Now, before the truth is known? Would you like to send him into my homeland?”

“He would never go. He can’t.”

The queen nodded. She wondered where Agache was, where he was watching from, and how much this tormented him. Was he as helpless as she was? Did the resistance have anything they could set against this, or would they simply allow it to happen? “Help me dress.”

Anokii’s cloak jerked, and she shook her head. “No. You do not want to do this.”

“Of course I don’t,” the queen said, turning away from the balcony and lifting her nightgown over her head as she walked toward the wardrobe that held her things. She stopped, lifting out one of her simpler gowns and shaking her head. While she would like to wear it, to have the freedom of movement that it would allow her, she could not. She needed to convey the right sense to the people, and what they would consider false modesty was not it. She must appear as the queen.

She sighed. She did not know when she’d lost herself, but she knew that she had been thinking of herself by her role and not who she was for far too long.

“This one,” she said, taking out one of the ones her mother had given her. Perhaps that connection would give her enough strength to do what she must do. Then again, her mother had only pretended to be a queen.

“It will be ruined.”

That made her smile. “I think that would be quite appropriate under the circumstances.”

Author’s Note: The original post of this (and this version is unchanged from that one) is in the Kabobbles’ Choice section. I left it there because putting it in here would mean changing things and breaking links and since I shared it for a Carry On Tuesday prompt, I thought I should leave it where it was just to be on the safe side.

So here is where it belongs in the story, in place and in order, and now it’s in two spots on the site, but that is okay by me. I like this scene. It’s one of my favorites in this story.

“Tell me about your people,” the queen said, not opening her eyes. She thought she was coming to learn the sound of Agache’s footsteps, the slight differences between his movements and Anokii’s, or perhaps that was just a foolish notion that she was comforting herself with since she was once more driven to her bed. If only she had not stumbled as she had…

“Again with the questions. I thought you were not happy with the way that I left you so ill-prepared for your audience with the king. Now that I am here to speak with you again, you want to hear about my people?”

The queen nodded. “After what I did to my ankle, I cannot think properly, so I think it best that you do not discuss anything that means either of our lives right now. You can tell me about your history, about how you became oppressed servants in this land and what happened to your homeland, things that do have a connection to what we are fighting but do not mean my life the next time I am forced into an audience with Malzhi or the king.”

“I could get Anokii to treat your ankle.”

“She already looked at it. I think she thinks I am complaining too much about it. She must be all too used to you—the one who refuses to admit he is in pain.”

Agache laughed. “I suppose that is true, though I have never known Gekin to admit to pain, either, so it is not something that only I do. You know this. I think you were told not to complain when you were training as an esibani.”

“I do not want to discuss my training. Tell me of your people. Tell me a legend if you refuse to be truthful. I do not care.”

He put a hand on her forehead. “You are not feverish, but your mood is rather altered. What did the king say to you to distress you so much?”

She shuddered. “I will not repeat it. Just speak to me of things that have nothing to do with him. Please. I will not be able to sleep if I continue to recall my humiliation.”

Agache sat down on the edge of her bed. “As long as his threats are words, you do not have to fear him. When he starts to act against you, that is when you should worry. It does not take long for one bruise to become many.”

She opened her eyes and glared at him. “If you are going to talk that way, you may go. I do not wish to hear it. I asked you to distract me. I do not want to hear what the king will do, don’t you understand that? How can you not? You were tortured by him.”

“I… I am sorry. Sometimes I think I expect too much from you.”

“Just because I was raised esibani does not make me immune to fear or pain or even despair. I am tired. I cannot force myself to be strong. All of my energy was consumed when I met with the king, and so if you will not let me sleep… I think I shall have to stab you.”

He slid his hand under her pillow, taking the dagger from its hiding place. “Can’t have you doing that. I am a terrible storyteller when I’m threatened with a blade.”

She snorted, not wanting to laugh, but he managed to make her do so. “You are so—”

“It is said that the Nebkasha had a land without any light at all. That the suns did not cross that place, never rose or set, and that when we were left there, we were cursed by whatever had created us. However, it is hard to think of it as a curse when we adapted so well to what the land gave us. It also does not fit with the idea that we rose from the ground. I do not know what our origin was—no one does. Most of the older ones were killed when our land was conquered, and with them was lost much of our history and our legends. What little we have is most likely inaccurate.”

She nodded, reaching to take the dagger from him. “Inaccurate or not, tell me.”

He lowered his head, letting some of his hair fall free, and she wondered why he’d taken off his hood and when, since it was not that dark in her room. “For many centuries, we lived in peace. No one wants a land of perpetual darkness. No one besides us, of course.”

“Someone did.”

“I believe what the king’s ancestors wanted was a path toward the land next to us, one where they said the dragons still dwelt. I do not believe that there were dragons there, or you would see trophies of them or them being used as slaves here. No, that king did not get what he wanted. Supposedly, that is what he blamed his queen for, since before then their union was supposedly quite happy, blessed with many children, and she was considered the most beautiful in all the lands.”

“Well, with that glow thing your people do, I imagine that she was.”

Agache shook his head. “It is not so beautiful. It is, in fact, rather irritating at times. Here, it is nothing but a burden. Being able to reflect light at night means we cannot be exposed to it during the daytime, and we are so easily burned by the sun…”

“Why are you not covered then? Do you not worry about exposure here?”

He reached up, frowning as he failed to feel his hood. “I… I had not realized that had fallen off. I should have, but you distracted me.”

She laughed. “Well, that is only fair, I suppose.”

He grimaced. “I do not know that I agree with that sentiment, but I know I cannot argue with you. Neither of us manage anything when we do that, and we should not waste our time in such futile discussion.”

“You are a terrible storyteller, you know. You can’t seem to stay on topic no matter what that topic might be.”

“That is your doing.”

“It is not.”

“Yes, it is. You distract me.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Did you know your nose wrinkles up when you’re annoyed? Your eyes get all narrow, and it’s like someone just pinched your whole face. It is a shame that no one sees that under your cloak.”

“I am never telling you another story,” he said as he rose, pulling the hood over his head. She leaned back against the pillow, laughing, knowing that from now on, when she needed something to smile about, she’d picture his face as it had been then, and she didn’t care if she never got another tale out of him. That memory was what she’d truly needed all along.

Author’s Note: I was just going to keep The Queen’s Story Time as the next part of this, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to have a scene between that one and Those Who Make Us Feel Safe. So, here it is.

“That was… unexpected.”

“Are you injured? I have never known you to use so many curses in a single sentence,” Anokii said, causing the queen to look up at her. The other woman had not realized that she was still in the room. She must have thought she was alone—though, no, that was not possible. She could not have thought she was alone, not given where she currently sat.

“I… My ankle is twisted again, I think,” the queen said, grimacing. “I had not realized that your cousin would still be in my chamber when I returned.”

“He should not have been. I must apologize—”

“I imagine that he does not have anywhere else that he might rest and recover. I can only think of him down in the catacombs, and that cannot be good for his health.”

“That is true. I do not know where he has stayed, either,” Anokii said, glancing toward her cousin. He had not stirred, and she thought he must have become accustomed to some very uncomfortable places if he was able to sleep where he was and where he would have been since his escape or while he was imprisoned. “I apologize. He was… I was able to persuade him to rest, and once I had, I did not wish to wake him.”

“No, I would not ask you to, though I am surprised that he did not wake when I stumbled over him just now,” the queen said, forcing herself back to her feet. She limped across the room. “Should he ever have need of my chamber again, let him use the bed.”

“My lady—”

“That way I will not trip over him like I do my shoes when the bizhat has moved them.” The queen stopped at her bed, laughing. “Now I cannot help wondering if he was the bizhat who displaced them.”

Anokii had to smile at that. “Perhaps he was. He did say he’d done some watching of you in the past, and there is a rather simple path between here and the catacombs that he could have used to gain entry to the rest of the castle.”

“I should be bothered by that.”

“No one cares to be observed too carefully, but I assure you that his interest is not like Malzhi’s.”

The queen sat down on her bed, reaching down to her ankle. “I assure you, even if your cousin was acting in that manner toward me—and he has given me no real indication of any interest at all—it would be more welcome than Malzhi’s. I should not say it would be more welcome than the king’s.”

“Why not? Who would want the king’s attentions?”

“I imagine that his wife is expected to,” the queen said, though she laughed, falling back on her bed. Anokii shook her head, thinking the woman was too close to insane. She curled up on her side, pulling her pillow close to her. “I sincerely hope that he never kisses me again.”

Anokii watched her shudder. “He kissed you?”

“I do not want to think about what he had just eaten. Or what he might do if…” The queen sighed. “Will you look at my ankle and perhaps give me something to help me sleep? I should not ask, but I do not wish to think about what happened earlier. I can only hope that he will kill me before he does anything else, since he has promised to end my life.”

What could one say to that? Anokii had never been able to comfort Agache when that threat was made, and she could not do so for the queen, either. She heard movement behind her, thinking that her cousin had risen and was about to depart. That was, she supposed, for the best.

“I do not recommend that you take anything to assist your slumber. If you are afraid of the king, you do not want to be slow to react should he come or render yourself incapable of your own defense. You should not use anything that will dampen your senses unless you have no other recourse.”

The queen sighed. “I suppose you’d say the same about the pain in my ankle.”

“Yes.”

“I think you must dislike me a great deal.”

“It is not my place to like or dislike you, my lady.”

“So you say,” the queen whispered, closing her eyes. “That just makes me more convinced of my suspicions. You hate me.”

Anokii said nothing. It was not her place to disagree with the queen.

Author’s Note: So I have now officially separated this story out and given it its own category. It has its own listing on the Kabobbles Serials page, plus a page with the summary and temporary cover art here. I am very proud of the cover art for both this and The Stolen Name, as they turned out quite beautiful.

Admittedly, part of the reason I edited in the Three Word Wednesday words into this section was to show off the new organization and the covers. I had to share the covers.

The words today: lanky, destruction, and ultimatum.

“Let me see your arm, you idiot.”

Agache glared at her, but Anokii was not to be stopped. She refused to let her cousin get himself killed or bring back his fever, not when he was their best hope. He would not want that, would hate to know that most Nebkasha harbored secret dreams of having him for their king, but she also knew that he would accept that role if he felt he had to, and he would be the greatest king any land had ever known. He had such compassion and insight, and though he would make mistakes as anyone would, she knew that he would never willingly harm anyone, not even the least of his subjects.

If only he cared that much about himself.

Still, she supposed it would be hard for anyone to put a value on a life that had been threatened since before his birth. His time as child, awkward and lanky, had been gone faster than that of most, aging him well beyond his years. No Nebkasha within Biskane lands knew much of happiness or freedom, but those things had vanished for him before they did any other. He had lived with the knowledge that the king would like to kill him since he was old enough to comprehend that idea, and with that knowledge, who would think they’d have much of a chance to live for any reason? If his time was destined to be short, then he would always be compelled to make it of value somehow, to accomplish one more thing before that time was over, and that meant that he would ignore his health and anything that might help prolong his life, thinking it not worth the bother.

“You should have had me treat this when you first escaped.”

“I did not want to go straight to you or Gekin in case the king suspected I was alive. I don’t know that he remembers that you are also my cousin, or that he would know you under the cloak, but it could have been a disaster if I had gone to you.”

“I do not care about the risk. When will you see that you mean more than you think?”

He met her eyes. “I am not what you think I am. I don’t care what my ancestry is. I am not going to save us all. You and Gekin have done more for that than I ever will. Even the queen has done more than I did. We can say the king watched too closely before my ‘death,’ but that excuse is just that—an excuse. It is not right, what I did. Or didn’t do. That might be a more accurate way of saying it.”

“If you had killed him and taken the throne, would that be enough for you?”

“No. I don’t want the throne, and as terrible as he is, even with all the destruction that I know he has caused, that I know he would cause… I can’t kill him.” Agache lowered his head, and she supposed he thought his words cowardly and shameful. She thought they held more honor than he realized. It could be argued that anyone of them could have killed the king, but what would they have lost when they did?

What would Agache lose? Would the other half of his ancestry come out at the taste of blood? If he were to start down that path of violence, would he be able to turn away from it again? Some legends said that the king’s ancestors were once benevolent, that their pursuit of the dragons and violence had pushed them to the monsters that they now knew. She did not know that it was true, but even if it were not, Agache had always feared becoming too like the rest of the Biskane.

Anokii shook her head. He did not need to wallow in guilt or doubt. “Why would you think that you’d ever be satisfied with what you did accomplish while you worked in his court? Even the most direct step would not please you, and you know you would not take it. Why must you force yourself to feel guilty for what you did do?”

Agache sighed. “This should never have continued for so long.”

She would not disagree with that, but it was not his fault, either. “We have spent many years adjusting to what this land does to us. Were it as simple as turning around and fighting, our people might have done that years ago. That was not possible. We do not have darkness, and we burn in the sun. For many, that is all they know, all they think matters. We cannot accomplish anything according to them. That is not true, but some gave up before they tried. Others are too afraid to try. It is not true, what they think, but we are in the minority, those of us willing to act.”

He closed his eyes. She dabbed a cloth in water, wiping down his face. She did not think that he was feverish any longer, but she still found herself caring for him this way. She supposed it was as comforting to her as it was for him.

“I miss your mother.”

“She was a better healer.”

“I did not mean it like that, Anokii,” he said, catching her hand. “I mean I miss how she made us all feel. Safe. Secure. As though nothing the king did no matter how terrible could hurt us or anyone she cared about.”

“Yes. That was what made her special.”

“Sometimes I feel that with you, but you… It is not fair to burden you with that role.”

She bent and kissed his forehead. “You are the one that gives that feeling to us, Agache, not me. If I can be that for you, then you are welcome to it.”

“I am so tired…”

“I know. It is time you rest.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You will,” she told him, not about to relent on her ultimatum. He needed to rest, and she would not allow him to leave if he did not. “You’re not going anywhere until you do.”

“You sound like your mother,” he said with a smile. She laughed, touching his cheek.

“Close your eyes and know that I will be here when you wake. You are safe here,” she said, but she needn’t have bothered. He was already asleep. She eased him into a better position and settled next to him, combing her fingers through his hair as he dozed.