‘Forgive my presumption, but are you the Protector of Atratys?’
‘Yes …’ I wait, wondering whether I’m about to be quizzed on my visit to Lower Farne.
‘Ah, I thought I couldn’t be mistaken. Tried to look at the seal on your ring, but my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. You’re so like your mother though, at the same age. That’s why I took this seat. Hawkin, I said to myself, that must be Lady Diandra’s daughter, and I’d heard of course that you’d come to court –’
I turn in my seat a little, hardly able to believe my luck. ‘You’re Lord Hawkin? I was hoping to meet you. You would have known my father too, I think.’
‘I did. Not well though. Your father was a prince, as well as being twenty years younger than me.’
‘Of course.’ Disappointment dampens my excitement. I had assumed, from what Aron said, that Hawkin and my father were friends and contemporaries. On the other side of me, Lady Nyssa returns to her seat. ‘And you knew my mother?’
‘Before she was married, yes. She spent three years at court before she came of age, as everyone of quality does.’ He blinks and clears his throat. ‘I mean, almost everyone.’
‘So you were –’
‘Your Grace,’ Lady Nyssa interrupts, ‘would you care for one of these excellent little biscuits?’ She’s holding out a plate of decorated sweetmeats.
‘So kind of you, but no, I thank you.’ I turn back to Lord Hawkin. ‘You were here when my parents met?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ he continues. ‘Prince Rothbart and Diandra of Atratys. They made a very striking couple. Though of course they had to leave when they decided to marry. That’s when they ran off to her dominion.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, His Majesty wasn’t happy about it. Not happy at all. Refused his consent, though it was obviously because –’
‘Oh, look, the dancers are returning!’ Lady Nyssa leans across, addressing us both. ‘Such a wonderful performance so far, wouldn’t you agree? I had no idea the flightless could be so graceful.’
The orchestra starts tuning. But I don’t know when I’ll have another opportunity, so I ignore Lady Nyssa and lean closer to Lord Hawkin. ‘It was obviously because of what?’
‘Well, not many people remember this – not many people have survived here as long as I have –’ he looks at me proudly – ‘but the king proposed to your mother. I mean, before he proposed to Rosa of Dacia, who became his first wife. But your mother wouldn’t have him. And then she ran off with your father.’ He nods. ‘Remember it like it was yesterday. Pity really – she’d have made a good queen.’
I stare at him open-mouthed. I knew my parents were devoted to each other; my father became a different person after my mother died. But I didn’t know the risks they’d taken to be together. And I didn’t know that my mother had had the chance to rule. That she’d had the throne in her grasp – the throne, and all she could have achieved there – and had given it up for love.
And my uncle … My gaze strays towards the front of the room, where the king has joined the group around the queen.
Did my uncle really love my mother?
Or was it always, really, about Atratys?
The king turns around in his seat, catches my eye, and smiles.
I don’t notice the rest of the performance. The next thing I’m aware of is applause – the ballet has ended. Lady Nyssa has already moved from her seat, and I see her on the other side of the room talking to Lucien, their heads close together. I turn back to Lord Hawkin, hoping for some more reminiscences, but he seems to have nodded off. I’m wondering whether I should wake him or let him sleep – servants are clearing the chairs away now – when Lucien taps me on the shoulder.
‘We’re returning to your apartment, Your Grace. Now.’
The anger in his eyes shocks me, and I obey automatically. We are soon back in my sitting room. Lucien makes sure Letya is absent, then turns on me.
‘By the Firebird’s blood, what do you think you’re doing, Aderyn?’ His voice is low despite his temper, as if he’s still afraid that someone will hear us. ‘Nyssa told me what you and Hawkin were talking about. Are you trying to give the king reason to take Atratys from you? Are you really that idiotic?’
‘I didn’t do anything!’ I speak under my breath, trying to match Lucien’s tone. ‘Hawkin was talking and I was listening, that’s –’
‘Hawkin’s an old fool. He’s too unimportant to be at any risk. But you –’ There’s so much scorn in his tone. He begins striding up and down across the soft-hued carpet. ‘To encourage him to gossip about the king, to repeat rumours about his relationship with your mother –’
‘I hardly encouraged him. But I want to know who had her murdered, Lucien. And why. And I want –’ My breath catches in my throat as I recognise the truth of the words I’m about to speak aloud for the first time. ‘I want to make the person who killed her pay. Someone should suffer, for what they did to her. For what they did to my father and me.’
He shakes his head in frustration and whispers angrily, ‘Don’t you realise how precarious your position here is? Especially after what happened last week. Any other hint of scandal or treasonous behaviour will undo everything I’m trying to achieve.’
I dig my fingernails into my palms. ‘And what are you trying to achieve, Lucien? All you’ve done so far is arrange endless meetings with –’
‘Most of the people you’ve met are state officers or members of Convocation. They could be helpful –’
‘Will Convocation stop the king forcing me into marriage? Will they help me fly again?’ Lucien doesn’t answer. I draw myself up, wishing (not for the first time) that he wasn’t quite so much taller than me. ‘It’s all very well for you, my lord. You have friends here. Nobody is watching you, or judging you. But the only time I’m able to relax is when I’m alone or with Letya. I spend almost every other minute wondering if the person I’m speaking to is going to try to kill me or take my dominion. While you seem to spend most of your evenings in some corner, flirting with Lady Nyssa –’
He stops pacing right in front of me, his handsome face marred by a sneer. ‘Nyssa? Is that really what you think is going on?’
‘What am I supposed to think?’ I hiss back at him. ‘I’ve seen how you look at her. You never even smile at me –’ I stop myself. I’m supposed to be a Protector, not a whining child. ‘She must be very fond of you, since she was kind enough to run to you and tell you everything Lord Hawkin had been saying.’
Lucien almost laughs. ‘Yes, she was being kind. She’s my cousin, and she wants to help me. And you, strangely enough. But while we’re on the subject: at some point in the future, if I survive, I’ll be the master of one relatively insignificant estate. I could not aspire to marriage with a Protector. And no ruler of a dominion would ever consider me.’ There is challenge in his dark eyes and he holds my gaze for a moment – but I’ve no idea what he expects me to say.