Raesinia

“Well,” Raesinia said.

“Well.” The second prince gave a crooked smile. “It was a nice engagement while it lasted.”

“Surprisingly pleasant,” Raesinia agreed, grinning back at him.

They were standing in the same foyer where Raesinia had confronted Georg. Trunks full of Raesinia’s things sat by the door, waiting to be hauled to the docks.

“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather come with us?” Raesinia said. “I can’t imagine you want to spend any longer here than you have to.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t simply vanish from the capital on a moment’s notice,” Matthew said. “I have affairs to wind up and friends who need tearful good-​byes. It won’t be long before I grace your Ohnlei Palace with my presence, I assure you.”

“If your father tries anything—”

“I’ve got the letters,” Matthew said. Cora had written out instructions for a few different contingencies. “And the duplicates are somewhere safe. My friends know what to do.”

The threat that they could still bring the Borelgai economy down, even once Raesinia and Cora had left the city, should be enough to keep Matthew and his lover safe from the king’s reprisal. Still, Raesinia felt uneasy. “Make sure he knows what will happen. Just in case.”

“I will.” Matthew looked down, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. “Your Highness—”

“Raes,” Raesinia said. “My friends call me Raes.”

“Raes, then.” The prince swallowed. “I don’t know how I can possibly thank you for this.”

“You don’t have to,” Raesinia said. “We couldn’t have done it without your connections.”

“You didn’t have to do it at all. You could have married me, gone back to Vordan, and let me drink myself to death. You didn’t have to... care.”

“Well.” Raesinia’s smile broadened. “I’m sure, as ambassador, you’ll find some way to make it up to me. You can’t be worse than Ihannes. He has a smile like a carnival mask.”

“It does have a mechanical look to it, doesn’t it? Like there was some kind of clockwork inside his head keeping it wound up.” Matthew let out a breath. “For what it’s worth, then. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Prince Matthew.” Raesinia bowed slightly. “I look forward to seeing you at court.”

“Of course you do. I make a stunning addition to any court.” He struck a pose, and Raesinia laughed out loud.

After a carriage ride through the city, shrouded as usual in mist and rain, they were back at the docks. The Prudence, the same courier that had brought Raesinia to Borel, was assigned to bring her home. Eric, Cora, and the other servants followed in her retinue, along with a small packet for the Borelgai embassy in Vordan City. With so few passengers and no cargo, the captain assured her that they would make excellent time.

That turned out to be the case, thanks to a southerly wind that heralded the onset of winter. Prudence sped through choppy seas, rounding the Jaw and down the western coast of Vordan. They were headed, not directly back to Vordan City, but for Enzport at the mouth of the Pale. If nothing had gone terribly wrong, that was where Duke Dorsay’s squadron would be, and the prospect of an early reunion with Marcus was impossible to resist. It’s not far out of the way, in any event, Raesinia told herself. And we need to get the latest news on the war.

Cora kept herself occupied reading—​she’d gotten a small crate full of new texts in Borel, which at the rate she was going looked like they’d last until roughly the end of the week—​while Eric seemed to enjoy the break from the pressure. But the waiting wore on Raesinia. There was only so long she could spend on deck, watching the foam-​flecked waves rise and fall, or down in the chart room staring at the maps. She tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. There ought to be something I can do to be useful. But the crew certainly didn’t need her help, and without more information there wasn’t much planning that could be done.

It was with some relief, therefore, that she watched Ecco Island slide into sight. It was a mountainous hump, rising out of the ocean like the domed back of a turtle, with only scattered greenery on its rocky slopes. A few people lived there, she knew, mostly raising sheep, but the only permanent settlement was on the landward side, at the naval base. As they hugged the north coast of the island, she could see the bumpy shapes of brick embrasures at the tops of the cliffs, where the shore guns that had closed this route to enemy vessels were emplaced. Those guns were gone now, dragged away and spiked by the Borelgai when they’d invaded the island during the war and not yet replaced by a revolutionary government that needed every cannon it could manufacture for the army.

Past the island, the southern peninsula swung up like a lower jaw, creating a bay the shape of a long, narrowing funnel. It made for a magnificent harbor, the best in Vordan: shielded from ocean storms by the bulk of the island, deep enough for the largest ships, and big enough to float the navies of the world. Before the War of the Princes, the largest squadron of the Vordanai navy had been based here, as well as their primary shipyard. The Borelgai had smashed the former and burned the latter, and kept the place under very effective siege, though neither city nor island had actually fallen. After Vansfeldt and the peace that followed, Vordan’s navy had been officially disbanded. Enzport was still a center of commercial shipping, but the naval shipyard had never been rebuilt.

For the people who’d lived through that time, looking out their windows must have made for an awful reminder. Once again, Borelgai men-of-war lay at anchor in the Enzport harbor, red flags snapping from their sterncastles in the brisk breeze. They were huge ships, towering over the slender Prudence, their high, slab-​sided hulls broken by three horizontal lines of gunports. Men bustled about in their rigging, climbing the ropes and spars.

Behind those behemoths was the rest of the fleet, a flock of wider, lower transports with lean frigates at the edges like sheepdogs. The civilian ships of the harbor gave the whole group a wide berth. Enzport was mostly on the north bank of the Pale, and the docks there were crowded with merchantmen and fishing vessels. If she hadn’t just come from Viadre, Raesinia might have been impressed at the sight.

Colored flags ran up the mast of the closest warship in response to a similar string flying from the Prudence. Sothe, Raesinia reflected, would have been able to decode them.

“Your Highness.” A young crewman, obviously overawed by the rank of his guest, edged up to where she stood against the rail. “With your permission, we’ll tie up to the Dominant, and you can go aboard. Duke Dorsay and General d’Ivoire are waiting for you.”

Marcus. She was so close now. She stared up at the mountainous ship, trying to pick him out along the rail. “Of course. Proceed.”

He saluted and ran off. Prudence tacked expertly to come alongside the larger vessel, then ropes were flying down from Dominant’s deck, and the courier’s crew worked hurriedly to bring the two together. A few minutes later, a long ladder unrolled from the man-of-war. Raesinia waved off any offers of help and grabbed the rungs, pulling herself up the side of the larger ship.

The men at the top of the ladder were clearly not prepared for this, and stepped back in some confusion at the sight of the queen herself awkwardly straddling the rail before she managed to get herself over. They stood stiffly at attention as she brushed herself off, immaculate in their red-​and-​white navy uniforms. After a polite interval, a tall man in a more elaborate uniform stepped over and bowed, doffing his bicorn.

“Your Highness,” he said. “My name is Captain Charles Brixton. Welcome to the Dominant, flagship of the First Squadron.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“We have your cabin prepared, if you’d like.”

“I was told Duke Dorsay and General d’Ivoire are aboard,” Raesinia said, her heart thumping a little faster. “I’d like to see them.”

“Of course. I believe they’re in the chart room.” He snapped his fingers at a waiting sailor.

“My staff and bags will be coming over as well,” Raesinia said, as she followed the man. “Make sure they get settled.”

Brixton bowed again. Raesinia followed the sailor across the crowded deck, dodging barrels, coils of rope, and assorted tools. Carronades, small, short-​barreled cannon, were mounted at intervals along the rail, intended to fire grapeshot onto an enemy deck during a close encounter. A tight spiral stair led belowdecks, into a narrow corridor toward the ship’s stern.

The chart room was larger than any space aboard the Prudence, with a big table and dressers full of maps, notes, and cartographers’ tools. At the moment, the Dominant’s own paper charts had been pushed aside, replaced with the unrolled leather maps that the army used in the field. Standing around the table were Duke Dorsay, General Fitz Warus, and the young woman captain Raesinia recognized as Winter’s second in command.

And Marcus. He looked much as he had when Raesinia had last seen him, beard well trimmed, uniform neat and clean. She realized she’d expected to be charging to the rescue again, as in Murnsk, and to find him battle-​worn and exhausted. He must have been here at least a week, if Dorsay kept to the timetable, she told herself. Don’t be silly. He looked up at her, and his eyes widened, but just for a moment. Then he was staring at the map again, and something had gone tight in his face.

“Your Highness,” Dorsay said, stepping around the table with a warm smile. “Welcome. Your journey was clearly swift. I hope it was uneventful as well?”

“Entirely,” Raesinia said. “And I’m glad to see everything has gone according to plan on your side.”

“Not entirely according to plan, but well enough,” Dorsay said. “We had to send the transports a considerable distance up the Pale, which put us a bit behind schedule. But we’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

“And the army?” Raesinia said, looking directly at Marcus. “What’s their condition?”

He looked her in the eye, his face rigid with military discipline. Raesinia’s throat went thick. It’s not just that we’re in front of the others. Something’s wrong.

“We have the First and Second Divisions,” Marcus said. “Along with some stragglers and detached units from the rest of the army, and the cavalry reserve, though we’re very short on horses.”

“The other divisions were destroyed?” The shock of that overcame Raesinia’s worry about Marcus. That’s tens of thousands of soldiers.

“We don’t know,” Marcus said. “When our left flank collapsed at Alves, there was a rout. Some units were probably dispersed, others mostly taken captive. Some may have changed sides.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a great deal of information.”

“And Janus?” she said.

“There the picture has cleared up in the last few days,” Fitz said. “Though I’m afraid it still isn’t good. Reports have reached us that his main force is, indeed, pushing through the Illifen passes. There are some garrisons there, and the positions are strong, so it may take a little time. But there’s no question of stopping him completely. Once he’s on the other side, it’s an easy march down the Marak to the Vor and Vordan City.”

Dorsay cleared his throat. “General d’Ivoire has been very insistent that we make all haste for Vordan City. We were, in fact, planning to weigh anchor tomorrow. But I must repeat to Your Highness what I told the general—​I don’t believe that we’ll have the strength to fight a battle when we get there, not without waiting for reinforcements from Borel. My own suggestion was Nordart, but perhaps a rendezvous at Vayenne—”

“Your Highness,” Marcus said. “Before we discuss strategy, I need a moment with you in private.”

“There are decisions that must be made immediately,” Dorsay complained. “If we plan to switch the rendezvous to Vayenne, we should dispatch the Prudence with orders—”

“Please, Your Highness,” Marcus said. “It’s important.”

“Is there somewhere General d’Ivoire and I could speak alone?” Raesinia said. Her heart started beating faster again, and she felt her cheeks flush. She gritted her teeth. I’m the Queen of Vordan, for God’s sake, not a lovesick schoolgirl.

“Of course,” Dorsay said with a sigh. He gestured to the door. “Follow me.”

Down the hallway from the chart room was a well-​appointed cabin—​not, in fact, very different from the room Raesinia had occupied at the Keep in Viadre, except with all the furniture bolted to the floor.

“This is the commodore’s quarters,” Dorsay said. “While I’m technically filling that role on this expedition, we thought it best to reserve them for you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Raesinia glared at Dorsay, her expression fixedly polite, while he bowed and backed out of the room.

“Raesinia—” Marcus said, when the duke was gone.

That was all he got out before she was on him, standing on tiptoes to reach his mouth with hers, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. For a moment he went stiff, and then he relaxed slightly, kissing her, his hands sliding up her flanks.

All right, she conceded. Maybe I am a lovesick schoolgirl.

He pulled away, pushing her to arm’s length, and stared as though she’d grown an extra head. Raesinia felt her cheeks flush further, but she stubbornly met his gaze.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to Viadre,” Marcus said.

“The opportunity came up after you left,” Raesinia said, with a twinge of guilt. It was only half-​true, since she could have sent him a messenger. She hadn’t wanted to distract him, or deal with his inevitable objections. “I thought it was where I could do the most good.”

“And you were right, clearly.” He waved at the ship around them. “A navy squadron and an army to follow. That’s impressive negotiation.”

Something clouded his expression for a moment, and he took a step back, looking away. Raesinia frowned. “Marcus?”

“I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I understand.”

“Understand what?” Raesinia’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh God. Dorsay told you.”

Of course he did. He had no reason not to. When he’d left Viadre, Raesinia’s engagement to Prince Matthew had been settled fact, not publicly announced but certainly not much of a secret. And the duke didn’t know about her relationship with Marcus, of course. Why wouldn’t he tell him?

Raesinia hadn’t been exactly planning to keep the whole episode from Marcus. She’d just hoped that she’d be able to explain it a little later. Maybe that was foolish. Damn, damn, damn.

“I understand,” Marcus repeated, all wounded dignity. “You’re the Queen of Vordan. I told you back at Ohnlei that I knew it might come to this, that you’d have to put the interests of the state before your personal feelings—”

“It’s the opposite, damn it,” Raesinia burst out. “It wasn’t until after I heard about Alves that I... No one knew what had happened to you, or whether you were even still alive. And—” She shook her head frantically. “It’s not important. Marcus, it doesn’t matter—”

“You did what you had to—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Raesinia said, a bit louder than she’d intended. “Because it’s off. The engagement, the marriage—it’s all off.”

Marcus stopped, looking like she’d shone a lantern full in his face. “Off?”

“Canceled. Crossed out. Not happening.”

“But...” Marcus swallowed. “Dorsay said...”

“Dorsay doesn’t know. We left Borel almost as soon as I worked it out, and the courier ships are faster than anything else afloat. He hasn’t gotten the news yet, though I’d wager there’s something in the mailbag for him.”

“Isn’t that going to be... bad?” Marcus said. “If the marriage was the price of this alliance, then can we still trust the Borels?”

“We found another way to convince the king.” Raesinia couldn’t help grinning.

“How?”

“Financial fraud and complex derivatives, mostly. It’s a long story.” She took a deep breath. “The point is, Marcus, that I am not going to marry the Second Prince of Borel. Not now, and not ever.” She stepped forward. “I thought that I had to choose between loving you and saving your life. Between political expedience and personal feeling. You know what I decided?”

“What?” Marcus said, looking a little overwhelmed.

“The hell with that. I’m not giving up any of it. Not without a fight.”

“Um. Good?”

He’d been retreating in front of her, she realized, and now he was backed against the bulkhead, hands raised as though she had a sword at his throat. Raesinia grinned and pressed herself against him, kissing him furiously. His arms went around her waist, pulling her close, and this time he didn’t push back.

“I hate to be the one to say this,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “But Duke Dorsay is waiting for us.”

“I know.” Something in Raesinia’s body ached in unfamiliar ways, deep and sweet. It was more effort than she was prepared to admit to pull herself away. She was breathing hard. “Sorry.”

“No, um, need to apologize,” Marcus said.

“There was... something.” Raesinia tried to force her mind back outside this room and away from the body standing so temptingly close. “You wanted to talk to me. About why we need to go to Vordan City.”

“Right.” Marcus took a deep breath. “I told Duke Dorsay it was because Vordan City and the palace are the symbols of the legitimate government and if Janus takes them he may win the support of the people. And that’s... true, probably. But there’s more than that.”

Raesinia cocked her head, waiting.

“It’s not just Janus we’re up against. There’s some kind of demon involved. The Beast. Winter Ihernglass is on his way back to Vordan City, and he has some kind of a plan for stopping it.” He shook his head. “It might be the only chance we get.”

“The Beast? Like the Beast of Judgment, from the Wisdoms?”

Marcus shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Who told you all this?”

“Talk about a long story,” he muttered.

“The short version,” Raesinia said.

“Janus did.”

“Janus,” Raesinia deadpanned. “Who has declared himself emperor and gone to war against us.”

“We think the Beast is controlling him somehow. It explains a lot.”

“And you trust him?”

“I... don’t know.”

“But you’re willing to bet your life on this anyway,” Raesinia said. “All our lives, maybe. The kingdom.”

Marcus was silent.

“Tell me one thing,” Raesinia said. “Janus is your friend. I know it’s hard for you to think he would turn on us. Tell me this isn’t just what you want to believe.”

“It’s not that,” Marcus said firmly. “It’s not only that, at least. I believe there’s more going on than we understand.” He paused. “And when it comes down to it, I suppose I do trust Janus. Even when he’s on the other side.”

“I’m going to need you to explain exactly where that conviction comes from at some point,” Raesinia said. “But if you’re certain, then I’ll back you. I can come up with plenty of other reasons we need to fight at Vordan City.”

“Thank you,” Marcus said. He hesitated for a moment. “And... thank you for what you did in Borel. For coming to rescue me. And for not giving up.”

Raesinia kissed him again. Duke Dorsay can wait.

*

By the time evening fell, the Prudence had been dispatched for Vordan City with messages for the Deputies and the garrison, and Duke Dorsay and his captains were making preparations for the fleet to leave in the morning. The duke hadn’t been happy about Raesinia’s choice to side with Marcus, but he’d seemed to expect it. Maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.

Once the strategy session had broken up, Raesinia gathered what she thought of as the conspiracy, everyone who knew that magic was real. With Winter gone and Sothe missing, this amounted to herself, Marcus, Cora, and Cyte, whom Marcus introduced as his second in command. Raesinia watched the captain with interest. She remembered Cyte, vaguely, as one of the student radicals who’d been there the night they stormed the Vendre. But that memory was of an anxious, insecure girl, inclined toward melodrama and heavy eyeshadow, and nothing at all like the calm, professional soldier before her now.

Marcus and Cyte went through what they’d discovered, their visit to Mieranhal and the nature of Janus’ obsession. When Marcus told the story of the battle of Satinvol, where he’d been forced to kill a girl who’d fought by his side, she could hear the emotion in his voice, and she reached out to take his hand. He started slightly at her touch and gave her a questioning look, but she only smiled. I’ve had enough of hiding.

Raesinia read the note Janus had written, in his familiar, precise script. “My mind is not my own.” It did fit, in a way. Or is he only playing us all, again?

“I thought Karis got rid of the Beast of Judgment,” Cora said. She was sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, and Raesinia felt another twinge of guilt for getting her involved. Genius or not, this was a lot to lay on someone her age. “Isn’t that in the Wisdoms?”

“We don’t know what this thing is,” Cyte said. “Only that it can control people.”

“But not completely,” Raesinia said. “Janus seems to be able to fight it.”

“Only a little bit,” Marcus said. “And it’s not just controlling his body, either. It was definitely Janus leading the battle against Kurot. He took us to pieces.”

“So it takes over someone almost completely,” Cyte said.

“And it can spread from one person to another?” Cora said. “Like at Satinvol.”

“Feor might know more,” Raesinia said. “We can talk to her as soon as we get to Vordan City.”

“What happens if Winter doesn’t come back?” Cora said. “Or if he’s too late?”

“He’ll be there,” Cyte said. Her tone brooked no argument.

“Even assuming he does,” Marcus said, “we need to think about what happens if he hasn’t got a magic bullet. Suppose Winter takes care of this Beast, and leaves the army for us to deal with?”

“I left orders for soldiers to be gathered at Vordan City,” Raesinia said. “If the Deputies-​General haven’t screwed things up, there should be some reinforcements waiting. Beyond that...” She shrugged.

“There’s no point in speculating,” Cyte said. “We don’t have enough information. Once we know what resources we have to work with and how much time we have, then we’ll see.”

“It might not hurt to start looking for a place to mount a defense,” Marcus said. “We know the basics. It has to be a strong position somewhere north of the city.”

Cyte sighed. “I’ll look over the maps. It’ll give me something to do until we get there, at least.” She got to her feet. “Your Highness, General. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Me too.” Cora yawned.

They left the cabin. Just for a moment, Raesinia thought she detected a conspiratorial glance between them.

“She’s impressive,” Raesinia said.

“Cyte?” Marcus said. “I agree. I don’t think we’d have gotten this far without her.”

“She and Winter...”

Marcus nodded. “From what I hear.”

“Then for her sake I hope you’re right, and this isn’t all some trick of Janus’.”

“Me too.” Marcus shook his head. “Cora really helped you beat the King of Borel?”

Raesinia snorted. “More like I helped her. And mostly just because I’ve got a nastier mind than she does.” She grinned. “She helped us track down Maurisk’s people, remember?”

“I knew she had a head for figures,” Marcus said. “But... you’d better make sure she never falls into the wrong hands.”

“Don’t worry. Cora’s a good person. If not for my bad influence, I think she’d be entirely virtuous.”

Marcus chuckled. “That’s reassuring.”

They sat quietly for a moment. There was something in the air, a hum of tension Raesinia could practically feel in her bones.

“Well,” Marcus said. “I should go get some sleep myself.”

“You could,” Raesinia said, swallowing. “Or you could stay.”

“Stay?” Marcus said. “In your cabin?”

“Stay,” Raesinia repeated, watching him carefully. He can’t be that dense. “In, as you say, my cabin.”

“Ah.” Marcus glanced at the door. “People will notice.”

“I don’t care anymore.” Raesinia took a deep breath. “With everything you and I have been through trying to save this country, I think we’re entitled to... some latitude, don’t you?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Raesinia got out of her chair and went over to him. Sitting, he was only a little taller than she was, which made it easy to lean in and kiss him. This time, Marcus didn’t pull away.

When they broke apart at last, Raesinia reached for the hem of her shirt. Thankfully, her shipboard wear was considerably less formal than the dresses she’d worn in the Keep, and she was able to pull it and her undershirt over her head in one smooth motion, without spending an hour undoing tiny buttons.

Marcus stared, his expression suddenly unreadable. Raesinia felt her skin pebble into goose bumps, and she fought a sudden urge to cover herself. Spending her whole life being dressed by servants had left her without a lot of body modesty, but here, now, she suddenly wished she was a little more... mature. Why couldn’t I have died a year or two later?

“Marcus?” Raesinia said.

“Sorry.” He shook his head gently. “It’s just...”

“Am I not...?” Raesinia swallowed hard. “Is it too strange? The way I look?”

“What?” He bounded out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close with a surprised squeak. “No. Raes, no. You’re beautiful.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Flushing under his beard, he looked down at her. “I just thought... You really want this? With me?” He gestured at himself with one hand. “I’m not...”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Raesinia rolled her eyes, then went in for another kiss, standing on her toes. Marcus’ hands gripped her shoulders and slid down her arms, his thumbs brushing inward across the slim curve of her breasts. Raesinia shivered.

“I should warn you,” she said, her mouth near his ear. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Really?” He stood up a little straighter. “I thought you spent a year slumming it at the University. You must have learned something.”

“I mean, I understand the... mechanics. But I never thought it really applied to me.”

“Well,” Marcus said, leaning toward her again, “I’m not an expert. But I can offer a little instruction.”

“That’s good,” Raesinia murmured. “A queen should really be properly educated.”