The meal drags on. But finally, it’s over: the last dishes are removed, and the king and queen rise from the table. We all stand and are preparing to follow them into the long gallery – I’ve already decided I’m going to confront Siegfried, ask him why his servants are gossiping about me – when my uncle clutches his stomach.
‘Father?’ Aron leans forward, taking the king’s arm. ‘Are you unwell?’
‘Get off me, boy!’ The king pushes Aron away, but he’s panting with pain, and his skin has a strange, yellowish tint that seems like more than just an effect of the candlelight.
‘Summon His Majesty’s doctor at once.’ The queen tries to guide the king into a chair, but he pushes her away too. She tries again. ‘My lord, I beg you, you must sit down, you’re not yourself –’
‘Silence, woman!’ He grabs her wrist so tightly that she cries out in pain. ‘I won’t have it, d’you hear me? I am the king, I am Solanum.’ He gasps and clutches at the tablecloth, dragging dishes and glasses to the floor. ‘I won’t have it …’
Courtiers scream, servants rush forward, the queen swoons, and my uncle –
My uncle’s eyes bulge as he collapses.
Ten
The atmosphere at court has changed. Three days have passed since the king collapsed, and all formal activities (the banquets, the concert planned to celebrate the king’s birthday) have been cancelled. We exist on a diet of rumours and speculation: the king is worse – the king is recovering – the king is dying. It feels as if everyone at court is watching. Waiting. Trying to see into the future, to determine whether the power is about to shift away from the current royal house; whether some other descendent of Cygnus I will choose this moment of weakness to stake a claim to the throne. Through Lucien, I receive invitations to dinner, invitations to various country estates and letters seeking my patronage. Directly, I also receive an offer of marriage from Grayling Wren of Fenian and an offer of ‘protection’ from Arden of Dacia. I consult my clerk before replying to either.
‘What does he mean, protection? Protection from whom? From Patrus?’ I’m avoiding Patrus as much as possible; each time I see him, he urges me to fly to Brithys and marry him immediately.
Lucien shakes his head. ‘You’re thinking too narrowly. We’re all playing a game here: hold on to the power you have, take it from others if you can, and whatever happens – whatever the cost – don’t be the one who loses. Arden can’t marry you himself, not at the moment. But with the king ill, he sees an opportunity to separate you from Patrus and from Siegfried, to align Atratys with the interests of Dacia.’
‘But even if the king is ill, he has two children. And the queen.’
‘She seems mainly concerned with her husband’s state of health and with making sure Odette’s wedding goes ahead; at least that way the Dominion of Olorys will stay loyal to the monarchy.’ He consults his notebook. ‘Which reminds me, you’re to attend another fitting for your bridesmaid dress.’
‘Don’t you think the other dominions will remain loyal to Aron and Odette?’
‘Aron is unfortunately irrelevant since he’s been bypassed by Convocation. Odette …’ He purses his lips and throws me a sideways glance. ‘She’s even less political than you are. She’s a pawn. I’m not sure she’ll ever really make a queen.’
‘I think you’re underestimating her. And her brother.’ We both fall silent. Arden’s letter is lying in my lap; I begin folding and unfolding one of the corners. ‘What about Siegfried?’
Undeterred by the king’s illness, Siegfried stuck to his plan and returned to Olorys. Part of me misses him, despite his misguided assumptions and his disregard for Odette’s feelings. I can’t stop my thoughts straying to where he might be and what he might be discovering about my mother’s death. Still, I’m relieved that I don’t have to see him, at least for a little while. ‘His leaving court now is a good sign, isn’t it? I mean, that he has more integrity than the others?’
‘It really depends why he’s left.’ Lucien’s dark eyes are questioning, but I don’t reply. ‘He already controls Olorys, for all practical purposes. He’s set to become king, which will give him control over the Crown Estates. And through your friendship –’ he puts an emphasis on the word that I don’t care for – ‘he might attempt to control Atratys.’
I open my mouth, about to argue that Siegfried does not and will not control me. But of course Lucien is right. Unless I can find a way to transform without relying on Siegfried’s potions, he absolutely does.
With the queen mostly sequestered in the royal apartments tending to her husband, the prince and princess are left more than ever to their own devices. I begin taking breakfast with Odette. After what Siegfried said and did, I’m worried about my cousin’s future happiness. She deserves better than to spend her time dreaming of a romance that her betrothed seems unable to give her. I try to enquire, as delicately as possible, whether her wishes are unchanged. But Odette won’t talk about her marriage, other than to agree that the queen should keep planning the wedding. She won’t be drawn into any discussion of the future of the kingdom either, or the Decrees; she just laughs and says I’m too serious, and what does any of it matter anyway as long as we have clear skies in which to fly. I realise she is protecting herself, and I pity her.
My relationship with Aron is still unrepaired. But one morning he corners me in the entrance hall.
‘Cousin. I’m guessing you won’t be flying this afternoon?’
‘No.’ I feel as if I should offer an excuse. ‘Lucien thinks there might be thunderstorms later.’
‘So Rookwood is a weather expert now?’ He arches an eyebrow. ‘I had no idea he was so multi-talented. My guess was based on the absence of Lord Siegfried – I’d rather assumed that your sudden resurgence of interest in flying had more to do with his attractions, than the attractions of being airborne. But I suppose thunderstorms might deter you.’
I sigh and cross my arms. ‘Aron, do you have an actual reason to speak to me, or do you just wish to insult me? Because if it’s the latter, I really don’t have the time.’ He’s still smirking at me. ‘I’m sorry I forgot to go riding with you, but don’t you think you’ve punished me enough? If you were trying to hurt me, you’ve succeeded.’ I begin to walk away. But Aron calls after me.
‘Cousin –’
‘What?’
‘Come riding with me this afternoon.’
‘So you can spend an hour telling me what my life will be like when I’m married to Patrus, and how he’s going to –’ I break off; even thinking about Patrus sickens me. ‘I don’t think so. Besides, I have work to do. Verginie of Lancorphys wishes to consult me over another petition for the extension of representation to the flightless. May I go now?’
‘Just … listen to me, for a moment.’ Aron looks down at the empty sleeve of his tunic and starts tugging at a loose thread. ‘I thought … I thought you were like me. I thought that, whatever you claimed, there finally was someone else at court who couldn’t fly, someone who would understand how I felt. And then, when I saw you with Siegfried that morning …’ He swallows and takes a breath. ‘It made me angry – too angry to think clearly. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.’