Author’s Note: It is a very thin line between the ugly reality of the queen’s situation and the horror of it. I have tried not to descend too much into that realm of horror and balance that with a realistic look at what she would be facing. Unfortunately, the balance could tip so easily if she made even one mistake, and I almost regret placing her in this position, but it was one of the original premises of the story, her marriage to the king, so I don’t know how I’d have a story without it.

Still… I feel a bit sorry for her, as I should, since I put her in this position.

“I think Agache is too easily distracted. He said we should strategize, but I do not think he offered any real solution to anything I am about to face. Again we talked of matters unimportant to this meeting or of things that I already knew,” the queen said, her head low as she walked toward the throne room. She did not want to speak at a volume anyone besides Anokii might hear, and she knew she’d already misspoken, having used Agache’s name when she should not have.

“One could believe that he is still feverish,” Anokii suggested. “Or that he is a poor leader. Or perhaps he expects you to know what he intends to discuss.”

“When you return, will you make him rest again? I do not think he is at all well, and he does not seem to want to heal. I know that what happens now with the king will mean a great deal in what is to come, but if he is not willing to stop long enough to let himself recover, he will not be there to see it if the king does happen to fall.”

“I know.”

“I suppose now I am telling you things that you already know.”

“I appreciate your concern for him. Most in your place would not care.”

The queen glanced at Anokii, hidden and suffering under that cloak in this heat, and shook her head. “You are used to the Biskane. They have no regard for anyone but themselves, at least those that I have seen. I think the commoners may have more heart than those of court, but I assure you, it is not like this in my land.”

“Would you know? As a princess, surely your reach there was as limited as it is here.”

She frowned, uncertain why Agache had not explained to Anokii and Gekin who the queen was, what being esibani meant. She did not understand his reasons for a great many things, though, and she would have to learn more of him if she hoped to guess at the way his mind worked.

Anokii moved forward, opening the door, and the queen turned her eyes to face the throne, holding her head up as she started down the carpeted path—of course the king could not tread upon simple stone, not ever—but she could only like the padding for the way it stopped the sound of her shoes from echoing. She hated making a lot of noise, since she was meant to be quiet and unobserved—at least, that was what the esibani were trained for, being the queen was something else entirely.

She stopped near the end of the carpet and dropped to a curtsey, bowing her head before the king, and she heard him laugh as she rose. She tried not to react to his mockery. He was the sort that demanded those displays and yet refused to acknowledge them with the same respect that he demanded they be given.

He grabbed her arm as she finished. “So, you have learned a bit of deference since I have been gone. Do I have Malzhi to thank for that?”

She glanced toward the minister, and he grinned at her. Bagquin. He was trying to get her killed, was he? She glared back before addressing the king. “No. His instruction was unwelcome and unnecessary.”

“And yet you wear a new trinket.”

“An old one. From my mother. The underside of the metal betrays its age if you should like to examine it.”

The king studied her, taking hold of her face in such a manner that she thought he might crush her jaw with only a few fingers. “There is still much defiance in you, isn’t there? There, in your eyes, I see it and not fear.”

“I suppose if we had been closer allies before this treaty, you would have heard many tales of the pretty princess Zaze and her prideful ways. It was quite the talk in my land.”

“You are considered pretty in your land?”

“No.”

That made him laugh, and he let go of her face, moving his hand down so that she could take his arm. “Come. Those that remain of the new troops are to swear their oaths today, and you will be at my side when they do.”

She bowed her head, and he covered her hand with his, the grip almost as crushing as the last one had been. He wanted her to cry out, was that it? She did not know if that was what he expected—no part of her wanted to give that to him—if she had been able to get more out of Agache, perhaps she would know if she should be more docile and submissive, but if she was, would that matter? She did not know that it would fool the king one bit if she pretended to be scared.

She was scared, but she didn’t think it showed as much as he felt it should.

“You do not plan to have them swear loyalty to me, too, do you?”

The king frowned at her. “Now why would you ask me that?”

“I assume you to be a man that expects to be the absolute sovereign, and I think we both know why the treaty was made, don’t we? Surely such an oath would conflict with both of those goals.”

He reached up to put his hand on the back of her neck, leaning in to her, his breath hot against her skin. “I assure you—I shall take great pleasure in killing you when the time comes, my dear.”

She believed him. He would delight in it, since he seemed to enjoy killing as well as creating fear in all around him. He reveled in his cruelty, didn’t he? She knew he must, if everyone feared him more than they did Malzhi, and she had known before she came here that he wanted her dead.

The king dragged her close, getting a small cry past her lips before he covered them with his. She struggled to breathe in his hold, trying not to gag on him and whatever foul thing he had last eaten, not wanting to panic. If he went for more than a kiss, if he decided to exercise his rights as her husband, she could not stop him, but she had been holding onto the hope that he would not, and that, at least, had sustained her so far. If he took that away now, if he forced that upon her, she did not know that any sort of obligation to her people would sustain her already wounded spirit.

He let go, and she stumbled, her bad ankle twisting as she did. She straightened up and found his eyes roaming her body, as he shook his head in disgust. “They should have sent a prettier one. You are too thin. Too much like those damn birds you came from. Pity. There is something to your taste.”

“You mean I am enough like a raw bird for your enjoyment?”

He laughed. “You are a foolish, defiant thing, but despite that, you manage to amuse me. I think we shall have to train you properly, but you might be of use.”

“Wonderful.”

Author’s Note: Sometimes it takes more than one person to get a queen ready.

Anokii opened the door to the queen’s chamber, surprised to hear laughter when she did. She shoved the door shut, hoping she kept anyone else from hearing. She crossed toward the back of the room, frowning as she saw her cousin with the queen. That stubborn fool. She had told him to stay put until his arm was healed, but the moment his fever broke, he must have left his bed. She should have mixed in some herbs to keep him sleeping with those that had worked to reduce his fever. Perhaps then he would still be in his bed.

“Agache, if you don’t allow yourself to heal—”

“The king is back. We do not have time for me to lie about in bed.”

She cursed, still tempted to shake some sense into him. If, that was, she didn’t end up using Malzhi’s herbs on him first. “True, I have come to tell the queen she has been summoned and to help prepare her to face him.”

The queen looked down at her dress and groaned. She was in one of her plainer ones, the ones she kept for when she was alone in her chamber, one she put on after leaving court earlier. “I do not think that we have time for that.”

“You have to change. Do not appear before him without your proper trimmings. That will offend him and the court,” Agache said. The queen looked at him. “I am not lying or joking. Court dress is very specific. You know that. Anything less than your finest would be an insult. You do not want to be late, either.”

“Are you now going to suggest that I fall at his feet and profess my love for him?” The queen demanded. Anokii stepped behind her, reaching for the ties that bound the other woman’s dress together. She jerked. “Anokii! I know we do not have much time, but you—you need to ask. Your cousin is over there—”

“I shall avert my eyes if that is what concerns you. Anokii, hurry. The queen does not have much time. She must go now.”

“I do not think you should be here at all while I am changing. You and your needing less light to see because you’re Nebkasha—you’d be able to see through your eyelids or something like that.”

“Just because Malzhi is obsessed with you does not mean that I am. Not every man finds you irresistible, your highness.”

She glared at him. “I am not assuming everyone desires me. I do not think that Malzhi does other than the fact that he knows he cannot have me. Nevertheless, it is improper having you here. Aside from the fact of your supposed death, if anyone knows there was a man here—”

“What do you expect to do with the king?”

The queen stilled, and Anokii set to work during her confusion. The other woman was too stubborn most of the time. She needed to learn to listen. True, she did not want to be revealing her body to a man who was not her husband, but Agache was an honorable man. He was not going to look or take advantage of her. Of course, after so long with Malzhi, she might assume that all men were like him, and it was possible that Omamhi had at least tried for such a terrible thing before he died. The queen had said no, but she could have been lying.

“I do not know. He doesn’t… He wouldn’t want anything from me that I am aware of, but I cannot say for certain. I do not have much knowledge of the king. He left me alone, even when I was forced to stand beside him at some kind of ceremony, so I do not know what to expect.”

“The more interest he shows in you, the more likely it is that he intends to act against your homeland. He ignores those that he does not care about.”

“It is possible that he will want to… to put a claim upon you,” Anokii told her, carrying over the fancier gown. She lifted it over the other woman’s head, pulling it down, and smoothing out the skirt. “If he hears even one rumor about Malzhi’s obsession with you, he will want everyone to see that he controls you at least until he moves against your homeland.”

The queen closed her eyes. “What claim might that be? How would he intend to control me?”

“In a painful way, that is almost certain. His torture rather depends on the person, though I can think of a few things that he might do. Still… you are his wife. He may decide that a very long and very public kiss is sufficient. Unpleasant for you, I have no doubt, but in many ways preferable to the alternatives.”

“Yes, very,” the queen whispered. “Anokii, will you bring me my necklace?”

“The king did not give this to you. You should not wear it.”

“If the man objects to something given to me by a woman long dead, I cannot help but think him a great fool,” the queen said, taking the necklace from her and lifting it up to her neck. “Besides, I need it to cover the bruises as they have not yet faded, and would you please give me something for my ankle as well? I overexerted it yesterday, and it has not forgiven me.”

“You did not say you were in pain. You could have mentioned it, and I would not have made you go to the catacombs.”

The queen looked at Agache. “When you said nothing of your wounds or your fever? You are so… infuriating. You cannot tell me to admit my weaknesses when you will not reveal your own. We can call each other allies, but there is no trust here, and we are not foolish enough to believe there is.”

Agache moved close to her, adjusting her pendant and then her curls so that they concealed her bruises. “I trust you, esibani, and that is all you need to know. Go. Now. You cannot keep the king waiting any longer.”

Author’s Note: Allies should become friends, right? Bonding is important…

“Tell me about your people. What are they called?”

“I should not even be in your room, and yet you wish to discuss history? Are you as determined toward death as Anokii believes me to be, or are you just that curious?” Agache asked, and the queen almost smiled as she leaned back against the wall she knew he was beside. She, of course, had the balcony, but he was almost directly behind her, and no one would even know. Even if they saw her lips moving, she would be assumed to be a mad woman talking to herself, not to a supposed dead man.

“I told you that I asked Anokii. She did not answer. So I find myself asking you instead. I am not expecting you to answer—you don’t tend to answer when I ask questions, no one does. I suppose we had better discuss what brought you here, though, since I would not believe you would be here if it were not urgent, not when only yesterday you were feverish and had to be carried out by your cousin and her husband. Incidentally—how are you cousins with her and the king?”

Agache laughed. “Even the royals that carried the blood of one of ours—we are the Nebkasha, since you asked—were not considered fit for marriage to one of the Biskane. They married back into the Nebkasha before the edicts came down that such a thing was no longer permitted. They continued to do so in secret. Some say that is why my parents were executed, but I do not think the king cared whether or not they were married. He wanted them dead regardless of that fact.”

The queen nodded. “I am sorry. About your parents.”

“I do not remember them. Your sympathies are unnecessary. Anokii’s mother was my mother’s sister, and she raised me. That is why we are… close. She was as much a sister to me as mine were.”

“Were?”

“They are dead.”

“Because of the king?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you—sympathies are unnecessary.”

“The king took a lot from you. That is still wrong, no matter how long ago it happened or if you do not remember when it did. It is not something that can be ignored and forgotten. Such injustices cannot be allowed to continue.”

She felt his hand brush hers. “You are a strange sort of idealist for a trained assassin.”

“I am not an assassin. The esibani are the royal guard, not murderers. We protect, defend, and yes, we do kill when necessary, but that is not our goal. We do what must be done to save the royal family, nothing more.”

His hand claimed hers. “No, my lady, I think it is much more than you think. You would not find anyone in this land willing to do what you have done or to endure what you have while you have been here. Malzhi, the king, Omamhi…”

“I admit, the king’s return terrifies me. I do not want… If he decides that he wants what he has not yet taken… Or if Malzhi gets it…”

“We may yet prevent such a thing. Our goal is to free everyone from the king’s mistreatment, and that will free you as well. I know it is not much consolation, but I cannot promise you safety unless you say you want to leave, and we can get you across the border—”

“And let my homeland suffer under his armies when he comes to crush us for my failure to uphold the treaty? I am afraid that is not an option, even if I keep thinking that I want to run, that I should while I still can.”

Agache squeezed her hand. “Come. We should discuss the king’s return. I believe he will summon you, and we must be prepared for what is coming. I think you are right, that he will be watching you, waiting to turn against you, and since you do have a habit of acting too defiant for your own good, you must be careful.”

She laughed. “You sound absurd. What else can I be? Foolish? That I accomplished long ago, and it can only be worse now that I am here. The moment I agreed to take Zaze’s place, my fate was set.”

“I did not realize you had a choice.”

“True, I look more like Zaze than the other princesses and the rest of the esibani could not pass for her as easily, but they would not have killed me if I’d refused.”

“Just imprisoned you? That is, of course, so much better, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “Of course, though you know better than I do.”

“I do.”

“How is your arm?”

“Much improved.”

“Are you lying again?”

He laughed. “Perhaps.”

Author’s Note: So it was time that Agache showed a bit of weakness, that he revealed that he was hurt and seemed more real, I thought.

Anokii crossed over to Agache’s side, undoing the ties that held his shirt around his neck and slipping it off of his shoulder, down his arm. He stiffened, but he made no attempt to stop her as she exposed the wound that lanced his arm. She shook her head, aware of Gekin cursing behind her as she tried not to think about what the king would have done to create such a deep and lasting mark upon him. She could see that it had started healing, but it would scar, a mark that he would never lose.

“Are there others like this one?”

He shook his head. “Not as bad. That one was torn open when I escaped and again when I was dealing with… a problem. It is improving, but today it throbbed, and I blame that on my conviction that the king is in the city.”

Anokii nodded. “Such fear does make us imagine things to be worse than they are.”

“This problem… That was not Omamhi, was it?” The queen asked, moving over to him. “Please tell me you did not injure yourself on my account.”

He shook his head. “It was before I took him from your room.”

“Then you are a fool for doing so,” the queen said, and Anokii had to agree with her. She sat down behind him, starting in on a low hum that reminded Anokii of their own hymns. She did not recognize the tune, but that did not mean that it was not what she thought the queen intended it to be—a soothing melody meant to relax Agache while Anokii treated his wounds.

“What is that you are doing?”

The queen stilled. “Oh, I… It is a habit, I suppose. When one of ours is ill or injured, we sing a wind song. No, truthfully, we hum one. None of us remember the words anymore. They have been lost to time, since they came from the time when we flew, according to the legends, at least. My mother made her own words sometimes, but I have not her voice.”

“I am surprised,” Agache said, frowning. “Such a thing seems so unlikely with your upbringing. It would not suggest a great deal of… tenderness or affection.”

The queen laughed. “I suppose you would assume so, but it was not like this place at all. Who do you think my first trainer was?”

“Your mother?”

“Yes.” She grinned, and Agache smiled before closing his eyes. The queen touched her hand to his forehead and grimaced. “Is he that warm because he is glowing, or is he feverish?”

“He is feverish. We all know we have so little time left to do what we must to stop the king, but he is doing too much without any rest at all that I can see.”

“He said he wanted his ‘death’ to have a meaning.”

Gekin snorted. “If he is not careful, he will end up dead, and there will be no escaping this time.”

“Take him to somewhere he can be treated properly and keep him there if you can,” the queen said, rising. “If the king is back, I will do my best to distract him, and though it repulses me, I know I am already a distraction for Malzhi. Agache will help no one if he dies now.”

“Very true. Will you be able to make it back to your rooms alone?”

“I will be fine,” the queen said with resolution, pulling the cloak’s hood over her and turning to leave. Stubborn, that was what she was.

Gekin whistled, shaking his head as he bent to lift Agache into his arms. “I think I can see why he values her as an ally so much. She’s stronger than she knows.”

Author’s Note: I really enjoy the quiet moments with Gekin and Anokii. They are so comfortable with each other.

Then, of course, my attempts to have a plot get in the way. 😛

“Can we blame my more amorous mood on the need to have something good after the horror that was today?” Gekin asked, combing his hand through Anokii’s hair. He had not let go of her from the moment they’d reached the same point in the catacombs, and she would not call it amorous as much as desperate. He needed to hold onto her, and she wanted to be held. She could not want anything else, except perhaps to cry. Knowing that so many had died today, that the king was back and responsible for many of those deaths, she could not stop shuddering, and he had soothed her as much as he’d soothed himself by clinging to her.

“You are not so amorous.”

“Of course I am, niniamant,” he said, pressing his lips to her neck and making her shiver for a different reason. “I love when you do that. Not that I should—there are too many unpleasant reasons for you to shiver, but when you do so because of me…”

“I know you well enough to know that you would spend all your time indulging us in the pleasant ones, but that is not the life we live.”

“You won’t leave now that Agache has revealed that he is alive, will you?”

She sighed. She did not know why he would ask her that, not now. “You would not truly leave. That is not who you are, not who we are. We may value our love more than most things in life, but not enough to let our people continue to suffer.”

“There is too much good in your family, too much obligation,” Gekin said, but she knew that tone of his. He always betrayed his affection in his voice, even if that affection came out grudgingly. He took hold of her and kissed her, and she felt as though she would melt into one of the catacombs’ puddles until he broke away.

“Someone is here,” he said, tensing, and Anokii almost smiled at the guilty look on his face, the same one he’d had when they were children just falling in love and every kiss seemed forbidden. He had always been more charming when he was sheepish, though she did feel somewhat uneasy when she thought perhaps he had forgotten that they were to meet Agache tonight.

“It is only me, cousin, and I have stumbled upon you and your wife in worse states before. This is nothing.”

Gekin grimaced, and Anokii laughed, for Agache’s words were true. “You seem… improved since I saw you last. You were able to sleep?”

“He sleeps? That is surprising,” the queen said, giving him a dark look. He smiled back at her. “Don’t smirk at me. I am still not sure why I didn’t just stab you instead of following you down here. I am almost certain that Malzhi drugged me again, and I do not appreciate being woken after that.”

Agache frowned. “You let him touch you?”

“Would you rather I killed him? That seems to be the only way to avoid his touch.”

“I thought you didn’t want to kill anyone.”

“I don’t,” she said, drawing her cloak around her. She closed her eyes. “How many people died today? Do we know yet?”

“The last count was twenty.”

She cursed in her native tongue, shaking her head. “Why would they do that? Killing their own troops is no way to win a war. It seems foolish at best and is worse than heartless.”

Agache sat down across from her. “No, worse is that I believe the king was among those making sure the troops did not survive their training.”

Her head jerked up, and she went as pale as one of their people. “He is back? Oh, tell me you have a plan of some sort to end this thing. I… I have been feeling as though his return means my death for some time now, and if we are going to act, the time must be now.”

“I agree. That is why I forced you from your bed.”

She glared at him, reaching for a handful of water and throwing it at him. “How can you lead a revolution when you are so… infuriating?”

“I suspect the king and Malzhi find my actions with the revolution far more irritating than you do,” he told her, smiling again. Anokii frowned. Although she had wanted to see her cousin’s spirit return to him, she had not wanted it to be like this. He was being too playful, and that worried her. If he was acting as though nothing were bothering him, he was doing it for the queen’s sake, pretending that he was fearless, but why should he make such an effort for her? Acting as though he were a child did not change what they were against, and he could not fool the queen forever.

Another reason for his behavior came to her, and Anokii cursed. “How much pain are you in right now, Agache?”

He closed his eyes. “Sometimes I hate how well you know me, cousin.”

Author’s Note: It was important to me that the allies find a way to trust each other, to connect and build a working relationship that they could use against the tyrants, and they fell into a comfortable banter that I enjoyed writing.

“Do these catacombs run everywhere underneath the city?”

“Almost, yes,” Agache answered, and she found herself smiling at him. She’d been able to shed the hood, and even though she still couldn’t see much of her surroundings, she welcomed this lack of sight. This was what she needed after a day with Malzhi, more so than the bath she’d had earlier. The cool air, so different after days of insufferable heat, made her almost feel as though she had found her way back to her homeland. True, this was damper than her land, but she could not help but enjoy the respite it offered her. She could stay down here forever—she was all too tempted to do so.

“Then you must come here often.”

“We do. If it were possible and would not lead to the end of its availability, we would live here. The trouble is, if the king knows we value anything, he destroys it. We lost half the catacombs that way, the deeper areas that we had started to call home. He had them closed off, destroyed the supports and buried some of our people with them.” Agache sighed, shaking his head. “We are all drawn here, but we do not spend as much time here as we would like. It is too dangerous.”

She nodded. Agache stopped, pushing back his hood, and she blinked, not sure if her eyes were deceiving her or not. “Are you… glowing?”

He laughed. “I am, actually. It is something else we do, all part of being creatures of the darkness or the night, whichever way you prefer to see it. I know it gets darker up ahead, and if we are to continue on, you will need light. Is this enough or should I take off the cloak?”

She did not know that she needed more light, but she had only seen his face a few times, and she didn’t like speaking to their hoods all the time. “I think it might be better if there is some more illumination. Unless, of course, you are naked under there, and then you may keep it on. I have no need to see that.”

He reached up and undid the clasp holding the cloak to his neck. Taking it off, he set it on the rock nearby. “As much as it can be rather stifling under the cloaks, we do not go about with nothing under them. Well, I cannot speak for everyone, but most of us learn not to as children. There are… insects that will make you quite miserable if you run about with nothing but a cloak. Some of the young who come down here to meet with their lovers have paid for that pleasure with infections and illness. No deaths that I know of, but it would not be impossible.”

“I suppose, too, that if your people were threatened the way I have been, they’d not want to give anyone such easy access to their bodies,” she said, and he gave a slight nod of his head, causing some of his hair to fall forward. She reached up and then withdrew her hand, not knowing why she’d thought she had any right to touch him. “Is all of your hair like that, too? So… white?”

“White is inaccurate. It possesses no color at all. Since I am… glowing, you see the light that my skin reflects, not the true color of my hair. Were we in another place, it would not seem white at all.”

“That is fascinating.”

“Now you know why Malzhi considers us worms.”

She had known before, but she was still learning much about Agache and his people. “So you do not show any of the other side of your ancestry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anokii told me you’re the king’s cousin. You have the blood of his ancestors in you, too, don’t you? Yet I see no sign of that in you.”

He let out a breath. “You do not want to see that side of me. Come. The meeting place is just around the corner. If I am correct in my timing, Gekin and Anokii will be reaching that point about the same time, and she will take you back to the castle.”

“So, even though you dragged me out to your meeting place in the middle of the night, you’re not going to have an actual meeting? Where are you going?”

“You are… difficult.”

“I was trained to be. Do not think I will tolerate this kind of thing. I have been threatened and drugged and almost killed since I came here, and I have to go back knowing that the same could happen all over again. Malzhi has returned, and he was… worse than before in how he behaved today. I do not want to speak to him again, and while I know why you wanted that, I cannot agree to it again, or even to this. You cannot wake me for no purpose. I do not have the patience or the ability to—”

“I did not say there was to be no meeting. I cannot be much of a part of it as I have already spent too long here, but Gekin has information you need, and Anokii can guide you back. I admit I was a bit… foolish in coming for you myself, but Anokii was always kind to me when I was younger, and I know how much she longs to be with her husband.”

“Gekin is her husband? No one told me that.”

“Officially, of course, we are not allowed to marry. Or have children. The king wants us to die off, and we have been, but not fast enough for his liking. Their marriage is forbidden, but if we allowed the king to have his way in those matters, why would we bother living?”

“I don’t know,” the queen said, closing her eyes. “Such a life is not… It does not feel worth living.”

Agache put a hand on her shoulder. “As miserable as this life makes you, as much danger as you are in, you have a purpose. Your presence here keeps peace between this land and yours, and that is time that we need. The more of my people we can get out of the suns, the more we can have to fight against him if that time comes. Malzhi is weak to you, and we will exploit that. You have managed more disruption of the court in the few months you’ve been here than I did in many years.”

She almost smiled, but she could not manage it. “I would not have come, not if I had a choice.”

“I know,” he said. She opened her eyes, surprised to find understanding and not disapproval in his face after that admission. “When I… escaped, I thought about leaving everything behind. I didn’t want to come back to this place and this role and continue the fight. I wanted to run.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was already dead. I might as well make that death have a purpose.”

Author’s Note: I admit… I wrote the first version of this scene a while back. It was a moment I wanted to see, some interaction between the queen and Agache after she knew he was alive, the way they became allies and built upon that to work against the king and people like Malzhi.

Amazing, really, that they got anything done with how easily distracted they are. 😛

“Jis.”

She opened her eyes, frowning as she did. At first, she did not recognize where she was, thinking she should be in a much smaller chamber, one that was much darker, without the sunlight peaking underneath it. She knew it was because she’d heard her name, making her think that she was home. She should have known better. She had been tired before, and she’d blamed the bath Malzhi had more or less forced upon her, but she reconsidered that now.

He must have used his herbs on her again. That was the only thing she could think of that explained why she felt like this, why she’d reacted in so foolish a manner. She should not have forgotten that she was the queen. She could not have forgotten it, not for more than a moment. She sat up, blinking as she saw the shadow move. Right. A cloak. “Agache?”

“You should not use or even know that word,” he said, moving toward the bed. “What is your obsession with names? Why must you use them?”

“It is not such a crime in my land.”

“You came here using another woman’s name, not your own. Why would names matter so much?”

Despite the hour and the way she’d been awoken, she had to smile. “For that very reason—because they have been forbidden and concealed. When you have been someone else for any length of time, your own identity is that much more valuable. Names are a large part of that.”

“Does Jis have a particular meaning?”

Her smile fell. She was not amused any longer, nor did she want to discuss why she had the name she did. “You woke me in the middle of the night to ask about names?”

“You made names an issue by using mine.”

She reached under her pillow and gripped her blade, drawing it out so that he could see it. “Why did you wake me? I don’t sleep well as it is, and you know I’ve killed at least one man, so why would you risk coming in here without a very, very good reason?”

“It is not like I can visit you during the daytime. I am supposed to be dead, after all, and while the cloak may conceal my face, my voice is too well known. Come. There is a place I must show you. We do not have much time.”

She glared at him. “I know we agreed to be… allies, and I should listen to you, but no. You do not get to wake me like this and make demands. I don’t want to go anywhere, not after the day I had—definitely not without an explanation for what you want and why I should go with you.”

“I need to show you the place where we should conduct our meetings—and we should do so at night. It is true that I can pass through the castle mostly unnoticed because of their general disregard for my people, but you know that I cannot spend any sort of extended time speaking to you. Nor can any of your servants. You are watched during the day, but at night, you may join us. Sleep is a luxury that we do not have.”

She groaned. He would say something like that. “I thought you didn’t need sleep.”

“If we were in our homeland, perhaps not. You will see what I mean when you come with me. We do not have a lot of time. The king should be revealing his return today. You will not want to be late for that, and we will not have another opportunity to go for some time, as he will have you watched and be watching himself.”

She shivered. She was struggling with her interactions with Malzhi—he had her at a disadvantage far too often—and she did not know that she could cope with the king as well. She would die soon, that seemed almost certain now. She rose, about to pull on her robe when Agache handed her one of their cloaks. She frowned. “You want me to dress like one of you? Won’t your people be in trouble if—”

“You cannot tell any difference between one of them or one of us under the cloaks. We have used such means before. If you use this cloak to go back and forth, people will think you are your maid, and they will pay little attention to you.”

“You want me to put her at risk?”

“She has been for many years. She accepts what she does and the risk that comes with it. We all do. Most of our people understand the need for what we are doing—though there are still some that refuse to take part. I do not blame them for wanting peace, but I do not see how they can live the way they do and do nothing about it.”

The queen nodded. She pulled the cloak over her, raising the hood over her face. “I can’t see.”

“Well, we are both ones who act, not who stay still.”

She laughed. “While that is true, in some sense, I was not speaking of that. I can’t see.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose you’re not used to that, either. We need it much darker than you would,” he said, taking hold of her arm. “Here. Let me guide you. Our eyes are different as well, all part of us thriving in the darkness. Our land rarely saw the sun, if the tales are true. I’ve never been there. We were taken far from home, and all we have now are stories.”

“I asked Anokii to tell me them. She started to, but she did not finish.”

“There are many legends. I am sure that your people have plenty as well. If we had time, perhaps I would regale you with one, but we should be silent after we reach your door. Our voices make the deception of the cloaks useless.”

She nodded. “I know. Still… I think I’d like to hear you tell one someday.”

“I would be glad to, my lady.”

She snorted. “You know you needn’t bother calling me that. Considering that I’m not one of the legitimate daughters, I cannot truly be a queen, and your people owe no allegiance to the man who oppressed you.”

He shook his head. “Here, you are the queen. Do not forget that.”

“How could I?”

Author’s Note: So I couldn’t help thinking that this whole story fit with Sunday Scribblings’ idea of “resistant” because of the resistance against the king and his aides that runs all the way through it, and I suppose I could have linked to any of the scenes, but this is the one I was going to post today, and since the queen has to be resistant to Malzhi, again, it fits.

“What was that?”

Malzhi stopped, leaning back as though he was giving her words some consideration, unusual for him since he did not listen to her most of the time. “Sounds like Wenjige.”

“You know what she sounds like when she screams?”

“Yes,” he said with a smile that made the queen sick. She did not want any kind of specifics there. She did not want to hear him gloat or give her details. “Perhaps they have found Omamhi after all.”

The queen shook her head. She needed to get away from Malzhi, now, before she vomited. Between his repulsive behavior and the images returning to her of Omamhi, dead, she could not control her stomach for much longer. “You should not gloat so much.”

“Are you accusing me of killing him again?”

“I never made that accusation. Wenjige did. I would say that your behavior suggests that you are the one behind his death, but you do not care what I think or seem to hear what I say,” she told him, pushing past him, hoping to leave the balcony before he overcame himself long enough to stop her.

He caught her arm, and she grimaced, trying not to notice the pain from the existing bruises, but she knew that she was unprepared when it came to hiding her reactions or even coping with the pain. Her trainers had been dedicated but not vicious, and they had not forced her to endure a lot of agony in order to keep her from showing how much she hurt. She knew how to be silent, but she did not know that she kept the reaction from her features as well as her voice.

“You have acquired a sudden boldness, haven’t you? Perhaps you are gloating. You are not the one who killed Omamhi, are you?”

She felt like laughing, but she knew that would betray too much. Instead, she smiled at him. “I should be flattered that you think me even that capable.”

He put a hand under chin, lifting it up. She didn’t know if he was searching for her bruises or if he intended to use those herbs against her again. She wanted to move back, but she didn’t want to show him fear, either. “You are a challenge, but I am not certain that you are that much of one.”

She pushed his hand off her face. “Then you can let go of me and let me pass. If Omamhi is dead, then there is no point in being here.”

“The training ceremony is not finished.”

“It should be.”

He laughed. “Oh, you are just so… charming. I do enjoy my time in your company. One moment you challenge, the next you confound, and how intriguing you are when you do.”

She tried to step past him again, but he tightened his grip and held her in place. The back of his hand moved brushed against her cheek. She started to push him away, but his other arm went around her waist, holding her still. His hand continued to caress her cheek, and she figured that she was going to feel the herbs at any moment.

“Your land must have a lot of water. Your skin is very soft, softer than anyone here. Most of them have skin like empty riverbeds, cracked and dry.”

“Would you be so bold with me if the king were here?”

His hand dropped from her cheek, the other easing off her back. She stepped to the side, pulling away from him. He should not forget that she was a married woman—not that she thought that mattered to him after seeing him with Wenjige—but more so than that, he should remember that she was the king’s wife. His property, in the eyes of most people here, and that was not something Malzhi could play with, no matter how powerful he thought he was.

“Who gave you this? Was it the king?”

She looked down at the chain around her neck, shaking her head. She did not wear it often, for while it carried some value in sentiment, it meant pain as well. She did find it amusing that he would think the king would bestow upon her any sort of trinket, though. “Do you think the king so generous?”

“Not in the past, but you are… unique.”

“You are obsessed. You only want what you cannot have.” She shook her head. “Do not mistake me for one of those things. I am not someone you want to pursue. I am not so stupid as to be unfaithful to my husband, and if you make him think that I have been—”

“Who would tell him?” Malzhi laughed. “You?”

“Wenjige.”

“Ah, the grieving widow. Yes, thank you for reminding me. I think it is time I go console her.”

The queen watched him go, letting out a breath. She could not help being relieved, but she was more disgusted than she was reassured. She needed a long soak to rid herself of his presence and his touch. “Bagquin.”

Author’s Note: So Agache is the sort of character who does not want to explain what he is doing. He only tells half the story, no matter what he’s doing. Poor Anokii. She tries to understand, but he never makes it easy on anyone.

Of course, the one no one seems to understand is the king…

“You are still watching her?” Anokii stopped, shaking her head at herself and at her cousin—she knew that the others did not know who was who beneath the cloaks, but they did. The voice was one part of it, but also the posture and so many little things gave way the wearer. He should not be here, and she should not speak to him, not if she wanted to keep him alive. If he answered her, it could mean his life if the wrong person heard him.

“I am waiting for the revelation.”

“The queen’s?” Anokii asked with a frown, uncertain what Agache was doing here. This was dangerous, and she had thought that he knew better than to be here, now, when things were already far too tense. The final training of another troop—this could mean that the king would feel that he was ready for war with the queen’s people, and they were not ready for that.

“I believe they will consider it Malzhi’s, though I should say it is mine, thanks to the queen.”

“You expect them to find Omamhi’s body during the training.”

“Yes.”

“You think that the queen has done enough to make them think that Malzhi is behind Omamhi’s death?”

“Wenjige has already said so, and that has done some damage. Even the catacombs cannot keep a body in the right condition forever, and if it is not seen soon, it will not be in a state where it can be used. I did not want to wait for Malzhi’s return, but if I did not, I do not know that anyone would believe that he had killed Omamhi.”

Anokii nodded. The timing was already difficult for them, since Malzhi had been gone when Omamhi attacked the queen, and the heat should have started far too much decomposition for anyone to believe he had been Omamhi’s killer. “So now you watch.”

Agache nodded, gesturing to the other balcony. “She managed to divert Malzhi from Wenjige. I expect she regrets it, but she was rather bold.”

“I do not know that you want to be pleased by her boldness.”

“We value secrecy and avoid direct conflict. We may even put too much emphasis on those things. We have done much that is disruptive. We made a nuisance of ourselves, and we moved as many of our people to safety as we thought we could, but we have not yet managed to do anything that has altered the overall condition of anyone. We continue to suffer.”

“If you had chosen a direct action, you would have been dead a long time ago—and not in the same sense as your current death. This would be permanent.”

He nodded. “I know. The queen, while she is in a precarious situation, still has some protection from the treaty. She can be a bit more direct. Then again, she cannot.”

Anokii glanced toward the queen. “Why are you here?”

“I told you that the king is back.”

“He has not shown himself.”

“The troops are training in the city. Their final training. Where do you think the king is?”

She closed her eyes, letting out a curse. “He will kill them all. I know they were foolish for joining his forces, but not all of them had a choice. What good can it do him to do this? To increase fear? His reputation for cruelty is already known. This is… I thought he wanted to go to war. Why would he sacrifice his own troops?”

Agache reached a hand out and touched the wall, dragging his finger along the surface. “The king has never showed his intentions, not all of them, not to where anyone could predict him. We know he wants their land. How soon he plans on taking it… That is not for us to know. Sometimes I think that he only wanted to make a game of it, the treaty and his marriage and even my death. Yet, at the same time, I know he can be more patient than we believe him to be. He should have killed me years ago, as he did the rest of my family.”

Anokii winced. “It was not right. The royal blood in your line was so diluted, so poisoned with that of our people that it should not matter if any of you were descended from the betrayed princess. He didn’t have to kill your sisters.”

“You know he has little respect for women. I don’t think he would have married if not for the treaty. He does not want an heir, does not want anyone to challenge his power, no one to be put in his place if there is a coup. Letting me live may have been to counter that—the idea of putting one of us on the throne would be repugnant to most of the population.”

She snorted. They should want Agache as their leader. He would hate it, as much as she suspected he’d taken hold of the resistance, but he was a good man with more consideration for the needs of others than anyone else she knew. “All they would have to do was let us go. We have no real interest in harming anyone. We just want our night back.”

“Yes, we do.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am.”

“Go sleep.”

“Not until the body is found. When that happens, I will go. Not before.”

Anokii started to argue with him, but the scream did not allow her to finish.

Author’s Note: Back to intrigue…

Aware of the eyes glaring at her back—this time she knew their owner, a minister’s wife that had been usurped as the female head of the court when the king married—the queen tried to focus her own gaze down on the crowds below them. She did not know that the ministers ever mingled with the commoners if they could avoid it. The servants were the only ones allowed close. Lesser ministers met with them, she did, but the ones with the real power, they could not be bothered.

Then again, she doubted that anyone would want to meet with Malzhi.

She supposed that was a bit of cowardice on her part, though. She found herself fearing his touch, though after two doses of his herbs, she had some reason for that fear. “Tell me about this ceremony. What is it for?”

Malzhi came close to her, leaning against the rail. She stiffened, trying to keep herself from moving away and showing him his advantage. “The newest legion of our troops has completed their training, and we celebrate their achievement.”

“Do not lie to the queen. She will not think it charming, Malzhi,” Wenjige warned, her tone more than a bit sharp. She was an unpleasant woman, always poisoning the area around her with her negativity. “The troop’s training is not complete until they kill the others in battle. If they survive against their opposition here, they become a part of our army. If they do not, their training was wasted.”

“You put them against seasoned warriors and expect them to live?” The queen asked, aware of too much horror creeping into her voice. She should not have expressed any emotion at all. That was a weakness. She knew that Malzhi and even Wenjige would use that against her.

“Don’t be absurd. He expects them to die.”

“Ah, now, my dear lady,” Malzhi said, and the queen started to think that the minister’s wife was—or had been—his lover. She did not know why anyone would want to have Malzhi anywhere near them, but then he must have had some kind of appeal, perhaps if the woman was a fool or wanted power or it could even have been done out of fear. “You needn’t be so harsh. You make me sound so heartless.”

Wenjige glared at him. “You are.”

The queen did not disagree. She did not think Malzhi had any sort of kindness in him, no good at all. She wondered at those who said the king was worse. How could he be? Malzhi had the herbs, he had threatened her with violation, he might well have done that to Wenjige, and almost no one doubted that he had killed Omamhi. If the king was worse… The queen shuddered.

Malzhi gave a dismissive wave of his hand, trying to smile at the queen. “Pay her no mind, my lady. Our friendship has soured of late.”

“Soured?” The other woman snorted. “Why don’t you stop pretending and tell everyone where my husband’s body is?”

Malzhi laughed. “Were I to have done anything to Omamhi, I would not need to conceal it. Your husband is a fool, and if anything happened to him, it was his own doing.”

The queen felt sick. She had not realized that Wenjige had been Omamhi’s wife. She knew the woman was married—no woman at court was not attached to a man in some way. The king had no regard for them at all, and that spread amongst his ministers. Some were worse than others, though, and Malzhi was the one she’d consider the most terrible. Still, she had not thought that she’d have to face both him and the wife of the man she’d killed. She had not wanted to kill him; she had tried not to, but he had forced the fight. He had as much as killed himself, though that did not lessen the guilt she felt.

She did not care if it was in defense. She was not a killer, and he’d forced her to become one. She hated him for that. Now, though, she must face his wife knowing what she’d done and somehow make Malzhi look guilty of what she had done. She did not know that she could.

She was not prepared for this. She did not know if she had any semblance of composure, and if she looked weak now, it would betray too much to Malzhi, who knew himself innocent of the man’s death. She was trapped, and she would have run if she could have.

“Are you feeling ill again, my lady?”

She let out a breath. “I… As always, this heat bothers me, but I cannot help thinking that—”

“Malzhi killed my husband? Everyone knows it. He keeps denying it, but I know better. We all do. Omamhi is dead, and he won’t even be decent enough to give me his body so that I might bury him.”

Malzhi grabbed hold of Wenjige’s arm. “Do you not think that such accusations are dangerous to make? Are you certain you want to continue talking?”

She looked at him and then spat in his face. “I never thought you were a coward.”

“I am not a coward.”

The queen knew this was what they wanted—Agache and his allies needed Malzhi accused of Omamhi’s death—but she did not like it. Not only was she the one who had killed Omamhi, as much as she disliked Wenjige, she did not think she could let Malzhi hurt her.

“If you attack her, does that not confirm her accusation?”

Malzhi turned toward the queen, his grip on Wenjige slipping. “My lady, I do not think that you quite understand the situation.”

She almost laughed. “Perhaps not. I still think it is not wise to answer her questions with aggression.”

Malzhi stepped toward her. “Are you trying to tell me what I should and should not do? Do you think that being a queen means you are correct and I am not?”

She swallowed. She had known it was possible that he would turn on her, but she had not expected such instant anger, the violence right under his surface. He would hurt her, turn all that he might have done to Wenjige on her. “I voiced my opinion, that is all.”

Malzhi reached for her, adding his bruises to the ones Omamhi had left behind. “You are not in any position to have an opinion. You know so little of the facts. You are a newcomer, and you do not know what you are talking about.”

She reached to pry his fingers off her arm. “I think you feel that no woman ever knows what she’s talking about. I am afraid you will be quite disappointed when you realize that some of us do and that we are not the sort of easy prey you are accustomed to having.”

His lips curved into a smile. “You suggest that I need a challenge? Would you offer it to me?”

Wenjige snorted, stalking away in anger, and Malzhi shook his head as she did. The queen took advantage of his distraction and pulled away from him. She turned back to the ceremony, not wanting to watch, but then she would rather not look at Malzhi, either.

“I welcome the challenge,” he said, leaning over her shoulder, and all she could do was shudder.