Raesinia

“You knew,” Raesinia said as soon as the door to Dorsay’s suite closed behind her.

“I suspected,” Dorsay said mildly. He wore a brown silk robe and his hair was ruffled, but he seemed unperturbed at finding the Queen of Vordan in his chambers first thing in the morning.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not my place to reveal Georg’s plans, especially when he hasn’t consulted me about them.” Dorsay shrugged. “I did warn you not to come here.”

“You didn’t warn me he had a marriage alliance in mind.”

Dorsay waved her to one of the armchairs. After a moment of stubborn irritation, Raesinia sighed and sat down, and he settled in opposite her.

“Georg is the kind of man who takes opportunities when they present themselves. If Janus had remained quiet, no doubt he would have concluded the treaty with Vordan in good faith. When the situation changed, however, it gave him the chance to ask for more.”

“Goodman has been insistent about that,” Raesinia said.

“I’m sure he has. That’s the stick. I wasn’t sure what the carrot would be, but it makes sense.”

Marrying some prince I barely know is supposed to be the reward? “Why does it make sense?”

“The crown prince has only one son, and he is known to be sickly, while the prince himself grows weaker by the year. It seems increasingly likely that the Pulwer dynasty will not continue down that branch of the tree. The second prince is healthy and presumably fertile, but so far has refused every potential match. You are young, unmarried, and in need of heirs yourself.” Dorsay shrugged. “Given the course of recent events, Georg is also eager to move Borel away from Elysium’s orbit. An alliance with Vordan, cemented by something as strong as a marriage between the monarch and the prospective heir, would be a good way to accomplish that.”

“You think this offer is genuine, then?”

“Oh, certainly. Georg is an honorable man.”

“No king is an honorable man,” Raesinia snapped. “Not if he wants to keep his throne for long.”

“Fair,” Dorsay conceded. “But he does try to keep his promises. The alliance would be popular with the merchants, which would make Goodman and his friends less ruffled about being overruled. From Georg’s position, I can certainly see the advantages.” Dorsay steepled his hands. “And from yours, I have to say.”

“Advantages?” Raesinia glowered. “You’re not serious.”

“From a purely political point of view, of course. You are young, and your power is insecure. If you married Prince Matthew, then Borel would have a powerful incentive to make sure you kept your throne, which can only assist in dealing with domestic opponents. You would receive the aid against Janus you came for. And you clearly must marry someone soon, in any event.”

“I know,” Raesinia said. “I’m just...” What? Not happy about having my body bargained with like a broodmare? “Unprepared. I hadn’t thought to address the problem of marriage until things were more settled.”

Dorsay raised an eyebrow. “Well, we are where we are, and we needs must make the best of it.”

“You think I should accept, then.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling the Queen of Vordan what she should do. All I can say is that it seems to be one way of achieving what you came for, at a cost your nation is willing to bear.” He got to his feet. “It’s time for breakfast. Would you like to join me?”

Raesinia declined, as graciously as she could, and headed back to her own chambers. Barely and Jo fell into step behind her, as usual, but she was so lost in her own thoughts she hardly noticed them.

He’s right, damn him. Taking the king’s offer was the logical thing to do. It would accomplish everything Dorsay said, securing Borel’s aid now and in the future. All at the price of, what? Sleeping with a boring dimwit? Women have done far worse for far less.

The problem, of course, was that it wasn’t that simple. Prince Matthew didn’t know about her supernatural problem, and there was no telling how he’d react if he found out. Raesinia planned to “live” only a few more years in any case, before her agelessness became too obvious to deny. Any heir would be too young to rule at that point, so she needed a husband she could trust with the throne. I would trust Marcus with Vordan. But Matthew?

Then there was the matter of the child. Raesinia had no idea if she could conceive, in her current state, but she strongly suspected not. She hadn’t had her monthly flows since Orlanko and the Black Priests had made her read the name of her demon. If she couldn’t age, or even get drunk, she doubted pregnancy was an option. With a husband who was in on the plot, that was a problem that could be circumvented, but if she had to deceive him about the parentage of his child on top of her other secrets...

It can’t work. Something would go wrong, and then everything would fall apart. She paused outside the door to her own suite and caught her breath. I can’t take Georg’s offer, whatever Dorsay thinks. She felt a little better having arrived at the decision without invoking purely personal reasons. My need to be with Marcus can’t trump the good of the whole country. But it won’t work anyway. She nodded decisively. We just have to find something that will.

Eric and Cora returned just after noon from yet another round of meetings with Goodman and his clerks. The servants, at Raesinia’s orders, had laid out a cold lunch, so there was food waiting when the two of them came in. Cora, as expected, went straight for the buffet and started loading up a plate with little sandwiches and the tiny egg-​and-​vegetable pies the Borelgai were so fond of. Eric, moving a little slower, tossed his ever-​present notebook into one chair and then slumped into another.

“Do you need something to eat?” Raesinia said.

“Something to drink, for preference,” Eric muttered. He sat up a little straighter. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Thank you, but no. Not at the moment.”

“I take it you didn’t make much progress.”

“Much would imply any movement at all,” Eric said. “Talking to Master Goodman is like arguing with a wall. He listens politely, then repeats his position verbatim.”

“It’s actually impressive how consistent he is,” Cora said, from the table. “You can tell he’s an expert.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cheerful,” Eric said. “He’s been unbearably rude to you from the beginning.”

“’M used to it.” Cora had popped a whole hard-​boiled egg into her mouth and was chewing furiously. “People usually are. I think Raes was the first person who took me seriously.”

“People are stupid,” Raesinia said. She turned from Eric to Cora. “So, you don’t see any chance of getting to an agreement we can actually afford?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t have any reason to give us one unless something changes. If Janus has a setback, maybe we could threaten to walk away.”

“That’s the problem,” Eric said gloomily. “It’s hard to negotiate when you haven’t got any leverage.”

Cora laughed. “Well, if we need leverage, at least we’re in the right city.”

Raesinia blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh. It’s a joke.” Cora swallowed and set her plate down to gesture. “In finance, leverage can also mean debt. Because it helps you lift more than you otherwise could, you know? And Viadre has the largest debt markets in the world.” She caught the look on Raesinia’s face and sighed. “Not a great joke, I guess.”

“No,” Raesinia said. Something was whirling at the back of her mind, the core of an idea. It’s not all there yet, but... “You said you still had credit to your name here, right?”

“Some,” she said. “Quite a bit, actually, but not on the scale we need. Not if we’re talking about the national debt.”

“But you could grow it. With leverage.”

“Y-yes.” Cora turned away from the buffet to face Raesinia. “Probably. It might not be easy.”

“I know you can do it,” Raesinia said. “From now on, that’s your main assignment.”

She met Cora’s gaze and saw the flicker of worry in the girl’s eyes. Raesinia forced herself to look confident and watched as Cora drew herself up. It was manipulation, pure and simple. Cora couldn’t let her friend down, and so if Raesinia had confidence in her she’d try her damnedest regardless of how she felt. It was the sort of trick Raesinia had employed all her life—​she thought about Ben, with his puppy-​dog crush on her, and how she’d used him to further the revolution—​and she felt only a faint twinge of guilt. That’s what being a queen does to you.

“It’ll take some time,” Cora said. “I don’t know if I can get anywhere fast enough to be useful.”

“I understand. Just try.” Raesinia grinned. “You’re obviously not getting anywhere with Goodman, so you might as well do something productive.”

“Even if she can make some money,” Eric said, “where does that get us?”

“I’m not certain yet,” Raesinia said. “But the markets are Goodman’s game board, and it can’t hurt to have a few more pieces.” She looked back at Cora. “Is there a way to make sure what you’re doing can’t be traced back to us?”

“I can set up a trading company,” Cora said. “It won’t be bulletproof, but at least it won’t be obvious. We’ll need the structure if we’re taking on debt anyway.”

“Good. Get started building it, and I’ll figure out what we’re going to do with it when you’ve finished.”

“Got it.” Cora already looked energized. She snatched a last sandwich and beckoned to Eric. “Come on. I’m going to need you for some of the paperwork.”

*

When another invitation to dinner with the second prince arrived, Raesinia wasn’t sure whether she ought to accept. What decided her, in the end, was the thought of the food—​a second chance at Prince Matthew’s chef was too good to pass up. And now that I know what the game is, maybe I can get a better handle on what he thinks of it.

The prince opened the door to his suite himself, stepping out the way and bowing low as she came in. His suit was dark blue this time, subdued enough that it emphasized the startling light blue of his eyes. For her part, Raesinia had dressed carefully to avoid anything that could be considered flirtatious; the last thing she wanted was to give the impression that she was falling for the second prince’s charms. Her dress was high-​necked and sober, with a minimum of jewelry.

“Your Highness,” Matthew said. “Thank you for coming.”

“Prince Matthew.” Raesinia tried a tentative smile. “Given the quality of the food, I’m afraid I couldn’t resist.”

“Arnat is a wonder, isn’t he?”

The prince shut the door and gestured her toward the hearth, where there were two of the heavy claw-​footed chairs that infested the Keep. The big table was set for two, Raesinia saw, but there were no servants in evidence, or even any Life Guards. The suite felt deserted. Her eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t think of trying anything, would he? Even a prince can’t be that stupid.

A table between the two chairs held a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses. Prince Matthew poured while Raesinia sat, welcoming the warmth of the crackling fire. She took the wineglass when he offered and sipped politely. Matthew took a long drink and sank into his chair.

“Is something wrong?” Raesinia said.

“No, not really. I just wanted a chance to talk in private before we eat.” He looked over his shoulder at the silent dining room. “Your Highness, I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“For the way I treated you last time.”

“You were—”

“I was deliberately rude, dull, and boorish.” He sighed. “You didn’t deserve any of it, and I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

“Well.” Raesinia looked down into her glass for a moment, thinking hard. “Apology accepted, provided you tell me why.”

“I was... irritated at my father’s scheming, and I took it out on you.” He ran one hand through his hair. “I should have understood that you didn’t ask for this, either.”

“You know about the offer he made me, then.”

He nodded. “From what I heard, you had no idea what he intended.”

“You thought I did?”

“I’ve known of Father’s intentions for some time,” Matthew said. “When I heard you were coming to the Keep, I thought it had all been arranged in advance.”

“I assure you I had no thoughts along those lines,” Raesinia said, a little stiffly. “My goal is to secure your father’s help against Janus.”

“I know.” He sighed again. “I suspect I’ve made rather a mess of things.”

“I take it,” Raesinia said, “that you’re not enthusiastic about this marriage plan.”

Matthew shook his head. “No offense intended, Your Highness. But I had hoped to marry someone I’ve known for more than a few hours.”

“Likewise. But surely you can tell your father no?” In the old days fathers might have had a right to decide on marriages without a son’s permission, but surely Borel wasn’t that backward.

“It’s... more complicated than that.”

I suppose he is the king. “So you were hoping...”

“That you’d be so disgusted you’d laugh in his face.” He chuckled. “I suppose the fact that you didn’t is a compliment, of a sort.”

“You were very convincing as a boor,” Raesinia said. “But I need your father’s help.”

“That’s how he likes to operate,” Matthew said bitterly. “Getting himself into a position where he has what everybody needs and then exacting his price.”

Raesinia set her wineglass down and looked across at him. The second prince cut a lean, handsome figure in the light from the fire, shadows playing across his brooding features.

“Are you going to take his offer?” Matthew said, after a moment.

“That gets right to the heart of things, doesn’t it?” Raesinia said. “I’m not any more eager to marry you than vice versa. No offense.”

“None taken,” Matthew said, waving vaguely.

“But at the moment we are precariously balanced. If the war goes well, I may be able to push back. If it goes badly...” She shook her head. “You know him better than I do. Is there any chance of convincing him to accept an alternate solution?”

“The man has a mind like a limpet. He grabs on to an idea and doesn’t let go, not for anything.” Matthew stared morosely into the fire. “He hates fighting with his advisers. If you can get Goodman on your side—”

“That seems unlikely. Master Goodman is convinced we owe him quite a lot of money.”

Matthew winced. “That’s always a bad position to be in.”

There was an awkward silence, broken by the pop of wood collapsing in the fire.

“Still,” Raesinia said. “It’s nice to know we have a common cause.”

“Even if we don’t have any way to actually do anything about it?” He looked up. “Sorry. I suppose you’re right. Come, let’s have dinner, properly this time. I promise not to be boring.”

A pull on a bell cord brought the servants running, and Raesinia thought she detected some aggrieved looks as they hurried to get dinner started. True to his word, Matthew was transformed, utterly unlike the clod he’d convincingly impersonated the other night. He told hunting stories while uniformed waiters brought in a delicate soup garnished with rings of shellfish, and managed to make Raesinia laugh hard enough that she knocked a half dozen empty shells across the room. The second course was greens with a lemon sauce, and Matthew segued into a lengthy anecdote about a friend’s amorous misadventures.

“...so he says, ‘I’d love to, my lady, but the dogs are still down there!’” Raesinia barked a laugh, and Matthew beamed. He really was a born storyteller, able to perfectly imitate the tone of an aggrieved housewife or anxious innkeeper. His narrow face seemed to come alive as he talked, and Raesinia was reminded for a moment of Danton Aurenne, the spellbinding orator who’d been the focal point of the revolution. She was fairly sure there was no magic at work here, though. Her binding hadn’t given her any twinges of warning.

“It was all right in the end, of course,” he went on. “He ended up marrying poor old Rosalind, and Ella eventually found her merchant’s son.” Matthew went quiet for a moment, perhaps reflecting that his choice of subject might not be ideal under their current circumstances. He cleared his throat. “I understand times have been quite interesting in Vordan of late as well.”

“Interesting is not the word I’d use,” Raesinia said. “Terrifying, maybe.”

“Was it as bad as they say?”

Raesinia paused. There were some stories she couldn’t tell, of course. How she’d escaped from Ohnlei by jumping off a tower and breaking her head open every night. The time she’d been shot in the head by a Concordat traitor and spent hours pinned on a rock like a butterfly, upside down and underwater. How she’d been kidnapped by the Penitent Damned called Ionkovo, and how she’d turned the tables on him later in a spectacularly gory fashion.

I can’t tell him anything, can I? It wasn’t just the magic and the secrets she had to keep. Looking at Matthew, with his pretty blue eyes and stories about climbing over rooftops to help friends meet their lovers, felt like staring into a different world. It was a world she’d been born into, a world she’d been meant for, but it had been taken away from her by disease and dark magic. I was supposed to be like him. Not frivolous, exactly. It wasn’t his fault. He’d just never been down to the sharp end, where things balance on the edge of a knife and pretenses are stripped away.

“It was... pretty bad, yes.” Raesinia blinked and shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said. “Obviously it’s something you’d rather not think about.”

It’s not that, Raesinia thought. It’s just something I can’t inflict on you.

Instead, she took a deep breath and told him a story from the old days, before her brother had died. It was a good story, which ended with an arrogant wine steward getting his comeuppance in a stable full of horseshit. Telling it made Raesinia miss Dominic more than she had for years. It had been ages since she’d even thought about her brother. It seemed strange now that there had been a time when he’d been the most important person in her world, after her father. I would have done anything to get their approval. They’d gotten in trouble for shoving the wine steward, but a little scolding from her tutor was worth it if she made Dominic smile.

It felt, for one evening, like she’d been allowed to visit the world she’d lost. Clever, handsome princes who made her laugh, spectacular food, the quiet bustle of servants moving all around. It was life as it might have been.

“Thank you,” she said, when the dessert plates had been cleared away. “This was a wonderful evening.”

“It was,” he said. There was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Let me apologize again.”

“You’ve apologized enough for last time—”

“Not for that. For my father.” Matthew shook his head. “I wish we’d been able to meet under better circumstances.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Raesinia said, aware that there were still servants all around them.

Matthew nodded distantly, but his expression was resigned. He thinks there’s nothing we can do. That I’m going to have to take Georg’s offer, and we’ll have to go through with it.

It made her even more determined to escape from the trap the Borelgai had laid. On top of everything else, Matthew doesn’t deserve to be used like this.