We needed the Avenko family to keep the connection between Above and Below. But that didn’t mean we should hoard all the power. Father had done that, and where was he now? All the same, I could hardly trust my ministers enough to delegate to them. At least one more was in on the conspiracy to betray me, and the others thought Sigis would make a better ruler than having no ruler at all. The only minister I could count on not to be a complete traitor was Reko, and he—
The laugh started in the back of my mind, growing until I couldn’t help but let it out. A giggle turned to hysterics, taking the rage and the sorrow and the fear that had coiled inside me with nowhere to go, and turning them into fuel. “What did you do to her?” Aino said.
“I—I do not know.” Inkar sounded concerned. That only made me laugh harder.
I wished I’d been less foolish, less adamant. More clearheaded. But grand dukes could be grand fools.
“I know what I’m going to do about it,” I said. Inkar looked as though she regretted everything she’d said in the past five minutes. “But first, I need—”
I hesitated, then knocked on Reko’s door before I opened it. Grand dukes showed at least mediocre courtesy.
Aino, furious that I’d refused to run after all, had stayed in my rooms. Inkar stood behind me, dressed in the blue and white of the royal guard. The helmet she’d borrowed was far too large. Inkar said something that made one of the guards snort and then stood at attention as though she were meant to be there.
I went in alone. Reko sat at his desk, staring. Baffled. “To what do I owe the”—his mouth turned down—“pleasure?”
He was probably expecting threats. Or a promise of execution. I took a chair near his fire. “You said you have a preliminary proposal for a parliament.”
His dark eyes flickered to the door, as though he suspected the guard to burst in and burn everything down. “What do you want with it?”
“I want to save my family from ourselves.” I wondered, briefly, if anyone had told Reko about Father’s death. Now wasn’t the time to find out. “I will grant you a parliament if you support me in the final coronation trial. And if you agree to be the parliament’s first prime minister.”
Reko’s lips pulled back. “You must be joking.”
At first, I thought that he didn’t believe me or that he wouldn’t support me in the trial. But then he said, “Openly oppose Eirhan? You might as well execute me and save him the trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
He sat back. “The man will do anything to maintain control. He’d kill anyone.”
Anyone. “Even my family?”
Reko leaned forward. “Anyone,” he said, and his eyes fastened on me, saying what he didn’t say:
Even you.
If I wanted to outsmart Eirhan, I’d have to make him think he still controlled me. So I went back to my rooms and prepared my best trading arguments and my most queenly garb, and prepared to meet with Sigis.
“Eirhan doesn’t think you should come with me,” I told Inkar as Aino helped me into my father’s massive cloak. Her lips were still pursed, her movements angry.
Inkar waved a hand. “He dislikes my cavorting with your guard, or with you. But he does not command us.”
Easy for her to say, with her powerful jarl of a father. But her tone warmed me. She hadn’t changed from her guard uniform, though she’d removed the helmet. She was all dazzling white and blue. Her axes hung from a belt tooled with the family roses, and more roses were stamped into her breastplate. “Are you sure you should wear that?”
“Of course. I must protect you from bears, after all.” She flashed me a knowing smile. “And the guard has made me an honorary member.” The smile turned sly.
I ducked my head so she couldn’t see the color rising in my cheeks. Her smiles could be an undermining tactic, an attempt to gain control of my household and make it impossible to break the engagement. But my stomach fluttered stupidly, and I fought the urge to laugh.
“I want to look like someone who protects you. Your ministers mutter when they think I do not notice. They think I only want to rise above my station.” She frowned, and for the first time since I’d met her, she looked unsure. “But I do not want to distract from your real purpose. Is it all right?”
“I think it’s perfect,” I said. Inkar was useful in a fight. And dressed in our Kylmian uniform, she looked both like herself and like one of us.
Sigis had taken up residence with his army again, presumably so that he could give the order to attack at any moment. Viljo frowned when I told him we’d be leaving the city. “I don’t approve, Your Grace. We might be on Kylmian territory, but we’ll still be disadvantaged if he decides to hold you hostage. Or other things. Why not invite him here?”
Because then Eirhan would be listening. “We have to do it outside. I’m sorry.”
Viljo considered this for a moment. “I will put a regiment together and contact the kennel master.”
“No regiment. A few men you trust.” When Viljo opened his mouth to object, I fixed him with my mother’s favorite look.
“It shall be as Your Grace commands.…” Viljo shifted uncomfortably. “My old guard’s master warned me that dukes make foolish moves, at times. I think this is one of those times.”
“You can consider your duty accomplished and your words noted,” I replied. But perhaps it was good to have Inkar with me. If Sigis made a move, he’d bring himself into conflict with both our countries.
“Dogs.” Inkar sighed as he set off. “Maybe I do not want to go.”
Viljo’s idea of a few trusted men was two sleds of guards riding before us and two behind. We left the palace gate and made for the edge of the city. The dogs set out at a trotting pace, tongues lolling, enjoying the exercise.
“Hold on, and enjoy the view,” I advised Inkar.
“That is impossible,” Inkar informed me, gripping the sled so tightly that the leather of her gloves creaked. I scooted closer.
We avoided the main roads, driving instead down side streets and smaller trade avenues, winding to the edge of the city with few people to witness our departure. When we came to the main gate, Viljo stopped and spoke briefly to the guard there. The guard nodded, and the gate opened.
A few feet beyond the gate, the ice ended and the moat stretched. Our guards used tridents to break up ice as it formed on the water’s surface. On the moat’s other side, a thousand men stood, silent. Watching.
Viljo dismounted his sled and crunched toward me over new snow. “I don’t like this, Your Grace. They’re ready for an attack.”
“We’ll be fine. Lower the drawbridge.”
I hopped off my sled and helped Inkar down. She gasped as she sank up to her knees in snow. Across the moat, I saw the line of soldiers stand a little straighter. None of them looked directly at me, but they were watching. Waiting.
The bridge came down from the outer wall with a thud.
Viljo started across. A figure with a star on his coat met him at the other end, one hand on his sword. They leaned toward each other for a few moments, then Viljo motioned for us. The other figure turned and called, “Inform His Majesty that the grand duke and her consort have arrived.”