Author’s Note: I decided this morning to add this scene. I had skipped to where the poison’s effect on the queen ended, but I thought it was good to have them discuss a few things first.

“The apaak was stronger than I realized.”

Agache did not lift his head, not looking up from the awkward position he had assumed at the queen’s bedside. “Gekin, tell her this is not her fault.”

Gekin brushed back some hair from Anokii’s face, cupping her cheek, and she did not know how to react. His touch soothed her—it wanted to soothe her—but she had made a terrible mistake, and it had almost cost the queen her life. Even now the woman did not stir. The king would wake soon, but the queen… she might not. Not ever. “He is right. I know you did not do this.”

“I made both mixtures.”

“Perhaps the queen took more than we thought because she wanted it to look convincing,” Agache said, his eyes going to the woman on the bed. “She is that kind of stubborn, and she was annoyed with my instructions—that is what you must blame, not yourself. You can blame my desperate plan, nothing else. I am the one that caused all of this.”

Gekin grunted. “No one can create a perfect plan or see it go into practice. You cannot control what anyone else will do, even if we agree to follow your orders. There is a point at which we all think for ourselves, and you are correct—the queen could have drank more of the poison on purpose.”

Agache frowned. “You don’t think she… You do not believe she intended to take her own life? I do not know that I gave enough consideration to that possibility. She seems so… strong. She was not willing to return to her homeland, even if it would keep her safe, she did not turn away from the crowd or the punishment the king gave her afterward, so why would she do so now?”

“She has mentioned an inequality in the past—that you are willing to risk your life for our goals. You say it should not be her.”

“Yet it has been. Every time so far, it has been. You would think I was my cousin the way I have caused her to suffer.”

Gekin shook his head. “No. You have remorse, if nothing else, and your cousin lacks that completely. You know… for as much as he banned us from using our names, as much as he treats us as though we are the worms Malzhi calls us, he has taken his own name from himself. He made everyone too afraid to use it. He made himself a monster, not a man, and there is no way to call him by a name and return any level of kindness to him.”

Agache let out a breath. “There never has been such a quality to him. No, this is… Can we move her, do you think? Can she be taken back to her homeland?”

“No. She’s too weak. Traveling would kill her, especially if any of it were done in the twin suns. She needs to recover some before such an attempt is made,” Anokii said. She frowned. “Why do you want to do this now? She is still a part of your plans, isn’t she?”

“She should not be.”

“Nevertheless, she is, and she is not ready for travel. If there are other tasks to be done while she and the king are ill, then do it, but you must wait for anything you’d ask of her.”

Agache pushed himself to his feet. “I would only ask her to go. No more than that. She has done enough, and I will not put her at risk again. Malzhi must be readying his followers now, doing what he can to protect himself, and there is little I can do about that—little I would do, for I would hardly encourage the growth of his ranks. Yet, at the same time… I must allow it to happen. Malzhi must have time to think he can accomplish his coup. Perhaps if there was a fool stupid enough to attempt to finish what the apaak started—”

“He would die. He will die. Such an act would be suicide—for him and whatever faction he is a part of. Do not send anyone to—you were not thinking of yourself, were you?”

Agache looked at his arm. “No. I was not. While I might have more success in ending the king’s life than most, it is also possible that I would aid his healing when I went there. If my presence, the Gichikane in me, wakens him, he will recover faster. I do not think we can risk that. We must let Malzhi act. If I were not so limited by what I am, by this cursed blood within me—”

“You are not cursed. You have done much good in spite of that blood. Do not forget that.”

“Sit down,” Gekin said. “You may as well rest as much as you can. They have left this a test for Anokii to fail, and no one has disturbed her or the queen. You are almost as safe here as in the catacombs—and we have all enjoyed that. Look at us fools without cloaks in the middle of the day.”

“Keeping the curtains closed is better for her health,” Anokii said, though that might be only a hope and not truth. She did like this freedom and semi-darkness, being able to shed her cloak in the castle. “Or so I shall insist if anyone asks.”

Agache smiled. “I do think it probably helps—she is not of this land, not used to the suns.”

“We will get her home safely, Agache. When she is well, I will take her,” Gekin promised, and Agache nodded. Anokii kissed her husband’s cheek, worried and yet pleased that he would make that offer. “I can start making preparations now.”

“If you want.” Agache frowned, studying the queen. “Perhaps you should. I think she might be stirring, and if she is, we need to be ready to get her to the border.”

Author’s Note: Not sure how many times I’ve said it, but plans never go as they should, now do they?

“So after Malzhi has left you and the king on whatever pretext he chooses, pour this into your drink and that into the king’s. Make certain that you tip your glass as though you are drinking but do not take any of the wine until after you have seen him drink. He needs to have at least two mouthfuls in him before you collapse. I’d prefer it if there were more. The sicker he gets, the more suspicious he will be, and that would be to our advantage.” Agache stopped, touching the queen’s arm and looking in her eyes. “You understand all that? You need it explained again?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I am aware of what I need to do, and I am prepared to do it, but I am not an idiot. You needn’t go through all that again.”

Anokii almost laughed at the other woman’s tone. Sometimes Agache did treat her rather like a child, and Anokii did not blame her for being frustrated with him. She had only come to the land a few months ago, had no real knowledge of its history or the politics that divided it, and while they had tried to educate her, they tended to assume that she did not know what she was doing because she was new. She was more capable than they thought, and she should have proved it by now, but they were slow to change. They still acted as though she wasn’t someone they could trust.

She was the one who would suffer if they were wrong, and she was the only one that could do what must be done. They had to trust her.

“I am sorry. It is… It is a risk, and I do not want you to be hurt.”

The queen laughed. “Oh, Agache, you know if that is what you truly wanted, you’d dump me back in my homeland. As it is, you are still using me, as you said you wanted to back in the beginning. I do not mind so much with you. You have been almost honest with me, and you have not threatened me as Malzhi and the king have.”

“He is nothing like them.”

The queen turned to Anokii. “I know that you are very loyal to your cousin. I have never doubted that. We need not argue about it. I should go. If I am late, it will seem suspicious, won’t it?”

“You are missing something important,” Agache said, his finger going to one of the paint marks on her neck. “You had better not leave before we put the fake bindings back on you, or everything will be over. Where is are they, Anokii?”

“Here,” she said, carrying the necklace over, but he took it and helped fasten it to the queen’s neck. He stepped back and studied her, nodding, and she glared at him, shaking her head.

“Nothing like them at all,” she said, fingering the bindings, and Agache laughed, reaching up to brush back some of her curls. “You are so—”

“Shh,” he said, tapping a finger against her lips. “You’re going to be late.”

“When I wake up, I’m going to hit you.”

“Very well. As long as you make certain that you do wake up,” he told her, giving her a smile as his hand moved across her cheek. He blinked, moving to the side to allow her to pass. The queen nodded, starting out of the room, almost running as she did. He closed his eyes with a curse.

“She will live.”

“Yes, she will.”

“You are not displeased by that fact, are you?”

Agache frowned. “You think I want her dead? Why would you believe that? I do not have that much of the Gichikane in me.”

Anokii shook her head. She had to go after the queen, and she was not certain that she wanted to discuss her thoughts with her cousin. She thought it best that she did not. She should be present when the queen acted. She would need a healer, and Anokii was the only one who could do that without revealing their earlier deception. If anyone saw the bruises were fake, if they knew that the bindings were as well, the king would kill her. He might even know that Agache was alive once he learned what they’d done.

She took a place at the back of the room and folded her hands together, watching the queen as she moved around the room. She circulated amongst the ministers and their wives as was her duty, the most visible woman in the room with her fine dress made of zenie, her dark curls and many jewels, even if one was a torture device. She was quite graceful in all her movements, whether she was walking or bowing, ready to be stolen away for a dance if only there was a suitable partner.

“She should be dancing.”

“You should not be talking,” Anokii said, slapping Agache’s bad arm to emphasize her words. He needed to be silent. His voice was far too recognizable, and he was risking too much to be in the room now. She would never convince him to leave, not when they needed this ruse and he was determined to witness his plan being executed. He had put the queen at risk again, and he had to be there if something were to go wrong. Anokii knew he would not go leave, not until the queen was awake again.

The king took hold of the queen’s arm, and she stiffened. Agache grumbled, and Anokii hit him again. She could not believe that he was being so foolish. He needed to be more careful.

“Calm yourself. Malzhi is with them, and it should happen soon,” Anokii whispered, grasping Agache’s hand to keep him from betraying himself again. He fidgeted when the minister leaned too close the queen. “There. He made it much easier for us by bringing them the glasses.”

“Except if he knows there is no poison in it, he will turn on the queen when he is accused by the king.”

“She was poisoned, too. Few people would believe she did it herself.”

Agache grunted. She didn’t know why he was bothered by his own plan now. They could not stop it—any movement from them, any intervention, and everyone would know that the queen was an ally of the resistance. They would know that Anokii was a part of it, and they would likely learn that Agache was alive. That was not something that could happen. The queen had to use the poison.

Malzhi moved away, and the queen glared at him. The king said something to her, and she paled, turning her attention to the drink in her hands. The king laughed, gulping down his wine, and she sipped at hers.

“She should have—” Agache stopped, cursing as the queen fell. “I thought you said her dose wasn’t as strong.”

“She is foreign,” Anokii said, hurrying forward. She must have gotten it wrong. She had created the mixture as though the queen was one of the Biskane, and that was a mistake.

“Get away from her, worm. You are not fit to treat the queen.”

“And you are?” the king demanded, moving close to them. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t—”

The king lurched forward, falling to the ground. Anokii jumped back, giving a terrified shriek though she had known that fall was coming. She swallowed, not wanting to do this, but she knew that she must. The accusation had to be made. “He poisoned the king! He poisoned them both!”

Malzhi reached for her. “You lying worm. You did this.”

“From across the room?” Wenjige snorted. “You are a terrible liar.”

“Let go of her. She needs to see to the queen. Fetch the physician for the king. Now,” one of the other ministers ordered. Malzhi glared at all of them. Anokii started toward the queen again, but Agache had already lifted her into his arms. “Take her. If she dies, you die, understood?”

Anokii nodded. “Yes, minister.”

Author’s Note: By all rights, the queen should have said no, but Agache was almost logical about all this. Or maybe they’re all desperate.

“I need you to poison yourself.”

Jis blinked, turning back from her mirror. She was starting to wonder why she never seemed to hear Agache coming or going, since her training should be better than that, but she was missing him far more than she should have been. Was she too comfortable in his presence? Was that it? He didn’t make her feel fear or unease, so she did not feel alarmed when he entered or exited. Still, when she thought back to what he’d said, why was it she trusted him?

Perhaps she was desperate. The king had made his intentions all too obvious today, and she knew she didn’t have much time before he killed her and invaded her homeland—and he had promised her too many times that she would suffer before she died.

Still… She couldn’t be that desperate.

“What?”

“We need to cause a distraction and increase tensions between Malzhi and the king. I want to poison the king, but if you are not affected, they will suspect you. So you need to take it as well.”

That explanation did not make his initial words any better than they had been before. She shook her head. “You’re insane.”

Agache nodded, one of his familiar half-smiles on his face. “That much is true.”
She was not as amused as he was. She knew that the marks had fooled the king this time, but if he chose to remove the bindings, he would see that she had begun to heal, and he would not be pleased. She could not help worrying about what he would do if he realized his favorite toy was broken. “You want to poison the king? That—I thought you didn’t want to kill him.”

“I don’t. I want him to think someone else is trying to kill him.”

“That someone being Malzhi.”

“Of course. It would do little good to suggest that it was anyone other than Malzhi who was acting in such a manner. No one would believe it,” Agache said, stopping when he reached her side. “You should tell Anokii to make the color darker. It needs to look worse than that if the king is to believe the bindings still work.”

“I know.”

Agache reached a hand toward her, but then he pulled back before his finger touched her skin. “When I say I want you to poison yourself, I am not asking you to—what I need from you is a convincing faint.”

She thought of how close she’d come to unconsciousness at the king’s hands and how that relief never seemed to come, shaking her head again. “I don’t faint.”

“Which is why I want you to take some of the herbs. A smaller portion—well, they won’t even be the same, but your poisoning needs to look real. Your collapse followed by the king’s would implicate Malzhi. He has reason to hate you both, and that means that most people will assume that he was behind it even if he was not.”

“What are you planning on doing when the distraction is happening?”

“I am hoping to send a large contingent of my people across the border.”

She glared at him. “You are not going to lie to me, not now. You need to be honest about what you are planning on doing if I am going to put myself through that. I don’t care if my illness is fake or that the poison will be less for me than for the king, I need a good reason to do this. Yes, it is important to make the king think that he is being attacked, to make him distrust Malzhi, but there are dozens of ways that you could do that besides having me poison myself.”

Agache put his hands on her face, his thumb tracing under her eye. “This mark is not one put there by Anokii. It is not paint. It is real. You need to rest more.”

“You cannot say that to me when you never rest yourself.”

He nodded. “I know, but I do not have to be with the enemy. I am not battling the worst this land has to offer on a constant basis. Not the way you are. They both have been hurting you.”

“I am not made of glass.”

“You are still made of things that are far too fragile for my liking. Life can end so quickly for any of us, and you have been… You are an ally that I value and respect.”

“I am still only an ally?”

“Do I dare call you a friend?”

She sighed. “I suppose it is rather desperate of me to want to call you, Anokii, and possibly even Gekin my friends.”

“No, it is not,” Agache told her. He let out a breath. “If we are to avoid war with your people, we must do this. If we are to succeed at all, we must do this. If war begins, it won’t matter to him what happens here, only that he subjugates all your land and your people. That is why we must begin the war here. I need the king thinking this is a real threat to his life. I need him distrusting Malzhi more than ever. I intend to make things look as much like a coup as I can. I want to make Malzhi look guilty and give him only one choice if he wants to live.”

“You are trying to push Malzhi into a coup. Is that wise? He is almost as bad as the king.”

“He is, and we do all fear him gaining power if the king falls. If the king goes to war with your people, I doubt there will be any Nebkasha left in the land. I cannot allow that to happen. I want—need—the king and Malzhi to be so busy fighting amongst themselves that they are too distracted to combat any of our efforts—and I suppose it would be… preferable if they would eliminate each other.”

“And if they don’t? Or even if they do, that is—”

“This has to end, Jis.”

“It will.”

She knew it would, one way or another, and she did not know that she agreed that this was the only option they had, but he seemed set up on it—for once not concealing any of his decision from her. That made this all the more important, didn’t it?

“That means that you will poison yourself?”

“I cannot believe that I am saying this, but yes.”

Author’s Note: Sometimes plans are bad. Wait, it’s me. All plans are bad. This isn’t anything new. It’s another in a long line of bad plans, though they’re spread out over many stories and personal foibles.

“The queen thinks that the king’s inspection of the troops is an indication that he is almost ready for war. That he intends to kill her soon.”

Agache nodded. “I believe she is correct. She’s not a fool.”

Anokii sat down next to her husband, letting Gekin’s presence soothe her as she did. She had not liked leaving the queen, even though the other woman could not delay—she had to go join the king—not when she was facing such a threat and still low in spirit. “You have some sort of… plan, don’t you? I do not think you want her harmed.”

“Of course not. I’m not that much of a Gichikane,” Agache said, closing his eyes. He put a hand on his side and drew in a breath, and Anokii knew she’d have to look at that wound before they parted company. “It is time to create as much chaos and confusion as we can. I do not mean the annoyances at the borders and to the troops. No, this time we must cause a huge conflict, the kind that will push us toward civil war.”

“Are you insane?”

“Yes.”

Gekin frowned, and Anokii sighed. She thought she understood what her cousin was thinking, but she didn’t like it much more than Gekin did. “Is it not better to let the king start his war and then start the chaos? Let him be besieged on all sides.”

“If the queen dies and we go to war, he will not care about chaos back here. He will see that war to its conclusion before he comes back to quell any insurgency here. You know this. He would inspire more fear by decimating the armies of the Binesiou than he would crushing a rebellion here. He would enjoy letting them think they had won here only to destroy them without mercy upon his return.”

Gekin lowered his head. “I hate that you are right about that.”

“It would be Malzhi who took control in the king’s absence. The Nebkasha would be slaughtered.”

Anokii shook her head, turning into Gekin, holding onto him. She could not imagine the horrors they would face if Malzhi gained true power. “That cannot be allowed to happen.”

“I believe the only option that we have now is to force that conflict here before the king can move against our neighbors. That is to say… We must make the king think Malzhi is about to attempt a coup. We must force Malzhi to make that attempt.”

Gekin wrapped his arm around Anokii’s waist, kissing her forehead, and she knew that he wanted comfort as much as she did. “Manipulating Malzhi is dangerous. You came far too close to your cousin earlier today. How are you going to do any of this and not get yourself killed?”

Agache shook his head. “I won’t. I can’t. I don’t know how he didn’t know I was there this morning—or perhaps he did and that is why he hurt her in front of us—but I cannot go close the king, not even to make him think he is under threat. Ideally, someone would make him think that Malzhi had failed to assassinate him, but he’d wake if I tried to walk in there at night. If I approached in the daytime—”

“No. That is impossible.”

Anokii let out a breath. “The queen could do it. I know you won’t want her to, but she has the right sort of access. The king has been keeping her close at his side of late.”

“And if she turns on him, no matter what her training, she will die,” Gekin said. He lifted Anokii’s chin. “You are not suggesting that she try to kill him, are you?”

“Agache told you about her being an esibani? I had to hear that from her.”

“No, he didn’t. I just remembered what I’d heard of them while I was in Binesiou land and made the connection on my own.”

“I think I may know how to do this and prevent the queen from being accused of anything,” Agache said, rising. He walked down the path and stopped. “We will need some apaak.”

Anokii swallowed, forcing that unpleasantness down her throat. “That is too dangerous to use, and you know it.”

“If we have any hope of convincing the king that it was a real threat, it has to be apaak.”

Gekin grimaced. “I don’t like it, but Agache is right—only apaak has any hope of causing a Gichikane any form of distress. I can get some, but I admit, I worry for you in the preparation of it. I do not want you harmed.”

“I can do it if I am told what to do. I should be fine.”

“Agache—”

“Just get us the apaak we need.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The king smiled. “Then you remain mine.”

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me.”

“Did he hurt you?”

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

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

“No. Go.”

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

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

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

“Jis?”

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

“Something is wrong.”

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

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

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

“Of what?”

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

“Because I am a fool.”

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

“I am not bored.”

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

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

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

“They weren’t supposed to die.”

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

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

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

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

“You never did tell me what Jis meant.”

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

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

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

Agache frowned. “She… had a choice?”

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

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

“I want you to leave.”

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

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

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

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

“You are quite welcome.”

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

“That is unnecessary.”

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

“Very well, my lady. If you insist.”

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

“How are you feeling?”

“I believe you may say I am recovering.”

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

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

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

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

“They sent a princess to kill the king?”

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

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

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

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

“I know I have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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