I sink back against the sofa cushions. So many things that I didn’t understand before now make sense. How Siegfried got access to the storage room where he was holding Flayfeather. Why Oloryan guards were allowed within the Crown Estates. I recall the trial, realising my failure to hear in the queen’s words the echo of sentiments Siegfried had already expressed. And when she questioned me the next morning, she was actually asking me what I thought of her brother.
She was the one who arranged the trial, of course, sowing seeds of distrust and fear between the dominions. And she must be the one who has been poisoning the king.
My mind strays back to my uncle. He had my mother murdered – because of his jealousy, or his lust for power, or both – and all but destroyed my father. His own brother. I remember how the king mocked me: Your father underestimated me once … A bitter desire fills me: that the king should know, before he dies, that my father has exacted his revenge.
‘Aderyn, where are you going?’ Letya calls after me, but I don’t stop. Instead I make my way up the seemingly endless stairs to the royal apartments. Out of breath, I arrive at the king’s receiving room. But there are no guards on the door. No guards anywhere in sight. I hesitate for a moment, turn the handle and go in.
The receiving room is empty; it’s early evening now, so perhaps the king’s servants are all at supper. I clench my fists, trying to stop my courage slipping away, and walk the length of the room as quietly as possible. There is a doorway at the end that leads to the next, more private space, the room where my uncle told me I was to marry Patrus. I reach the door, rest my fingers on the handle –
A noise, from a narrow corridor opening to my right. I hadn’t noticed it before. But now I hear voices. And a ripple of laughter. Hugging the shadows, I edge along the corridor to where it opens out into another room. Peer in.
Siegfried. And the queen. They’re standing close together. Siegfried whispers something into the queen’s ear and she laughs again and puts her arms around his neck. He pushes her back against the wall, pinning her there, and he –
He kisses her.
Fifteen
He kisses her. Not in a brotherly way. He kisses her exactly as he tried to kiss me, and then he hitches up her skirts –
I clap my hand to my mouth and jump back into the shadows. But I think I’m too late. I think I gasped out loud. I think they heard me.
So I run.
I run back across the receiving room. When I reach the door, I pause; there’s no sign of pursuit. Carefully, carefully, I open the door, shut it behind me, and run again.
But not back to my room. I run down. I don’t stop running until I reach the stables. They’re not expecting me: horses rear, the ostlers curse me, but I don’t care. I don’t stop running until I’m in Henga’s stall.
She snickers in greeting. And the fact that I can’t put my arms around her neck, that I can’t bury my face in her mane – it rips my heart out. I slump down in the hay, my back against the wall of the stall, waiting for my breathing to slow. Henga tosses her head and watches me.
I remember the groomsday banquet, the queen observing Odette’s happiness with narrowed eyes. She wasn’t ever concerned about Odette’s welfare. Not then, nor when she asked me whether I was sharing Siegfried’s bed.
She was jealous.
‘What should I do, Henga?’
In reply, Henga snickers again, pawing the ground with her front foot. She wants to get out of here. And it would be so easy. If I put gloves on, I could saddle her myself. We could escape from the Citadel, ride back to Atratys. Back to Merl. I could run away, just like my parents did. Run away, and hide, and wait for Siegfried to hunt me down. Without his potion, I won’t be able to escape for long.
I reach for the long-handled brush hanging on the wall and begin running it across Henga’s back, trying to control the anger that has started to boil through my veins. How long ago did Siegfried and his sister plan all this? Before she married the king? And Siegfried’s attempt to seduce me – was that also planned between them, or was Siegfried alone playing that game? Standing with me on the roof at Deaufleur, telling me of the strength of his passion … No doubt he thought it would be amusing to find out just how much he could humiliate me. How much I could be persuaded – how much I would be willing – to surrender to him.
I grit my teeth and grip the brush so tightly the tendons on my hand stand out. It’s that or smash it against the wall behind me.
Henga snorts and rolls her eyes backwards; she’s wondering why I’ve stopped brushing her. Or maybe she’s trying to dispel my tension. I apologise and start moving the bristles across her coat again, my muscles relaxing as my rage cools a little. The brush is made of wood, painted red. It reminds me of the red dress I used to love, the red dress I was wearing when my father died.
My father spent years hiding at Merl. Hiding his problems and hiding me. And for what? It didn’t solve anything.
But I am not my father, and I have a choice.
I hang the brush up again. ‘I’m sorry, Henga. I can’t ride you this evening. I’ll ask one of the grooms to take you out.’ She neighs as if she understands. I hope she does.
I’m not going to run, and I’m not going to hide. I’m going to fight.
I’m halfway back to the main entrance of the castle when Aron catches up with me.
‘Aderyn –’
‘I was just coming to find you, cousin. What’s amiss?’
‘Nothing. Well –’ he quirks an eyebrow – ‘nothing more than usual. They’ve finished questioning Rookwood and have allowed him to leave. I thought you’d like to know.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Why were you looking for me?’
‘There are some things I’d like to discuss with you.’ I keep my face and my tone neutral; there are too many other people coming and going up the wide marble staircases, too many Dark Guards standing around nearby. And everyone is watching, listening, wondering where the accusations of treason will fall next. ‘It’s about my horse. Henga has been off her feed, and I am not sure I agree with the stable master’s diagnosis.’
‘Of course. So worrying, when one’s mount is unwell.’ Aron clearly understands my subterfuge. ‘When would be a convenient time for you, cousin?’
I hesitate. I was hoping to speak to Aron, to tell him exactly what I’ve discovered, this evening. But it’s getting late, and I need to see Lucien first. ‘Tomorrow, I suppose. After the tournament?’
‘Why don’t you come to my apartment at the seventh hour? We can have lunch together.’
‘Very well. Thank you, cousin. I’m sure you’ll be able to set my mind at rest.’
In contrast to the entrance hall, the corridors of the Citadel are quiet. The mood feels like the air just before a big thunderstorm: so heavy with tension and pent-up energy that something has to happen. I go back to my apartment first. Letya is waiting for me, as I knew she would be. I reassure her and tell her to go and rest, that I will see her in the morning. She seems inclined to argue, but I remind her that I used to put myself to bed at Merl, and that she will be of more use to me if she’s not exhausted. As soon as Letya has said goodnight, I make my way to Lucien’s room. Turik lets me in.