Firebrand
“So that was the new luin prime?” Laren asked.
“Yes, the youngest ever elevated. He is from Coutre.” Estora smiled. “I suggested him last year when I heard the old prime was retiring. No doubt the Assembly wished to please me.”
No doubt, Laren echoed, they would do the utmost to attain the favor of the throne.
Estora asked her polite questions about how she was doing, but Laren replied, “With respect, Your Majesty, I will mend in time, and I suspect there are more urgent matters on your mind.”
“Yes. Once more I find myself responsible for the realm.” She gazed down at her hands clasped on her lap. “With my husband missing, the responsibility weighs on me. I have been praying to the gods for his return.”
Laren, who normally had little time for the gods or an inclination to pray, had been, as well. “You may rely on your counselors to help in any way possible.”
“At least no one is pushing for me to remarry,” Estora said with deceptive lightness. “Not yet, anyway, though Javien is advocating for the pretense that all is well so word doesn’t get out that Zachary has disappeared.”
“I am afraid that with all the guards on high alert, that any illusion of normality has been dispelled.”
“Yes, I have heard that Prince Tuandre is alarmed, and he’d already been put off by the behavior of the one who we thought to be Zachary. I have no idea what this is going to do to relations between our two realms.”
“Perhaps the best path is forthrightness. Rhovanny is, after all, our friendliest ally.”
“I agree,” Estora said, “but the others resist.”
So that was why she had asked Laren to visit, to see if she would provide counsel that countered the others. “You are the queen, and you can proceed as you wish. As much as this hurts to say aloud, we may never—” and here her voice quavered, “—see Zachary again, and you will be faced with making all sorts of decisions. If you feel it is in Sacoridia’s best interest to be forthright with Prince Tuandre, then it overrides anything Javien or the others say.”
Estora spread her hands across her quilt. “How am I to convey this to the prince while in my confinement? Vanlynn will not permit me to even leave this chamber.”
“Invite him to tea.”
“Tea? Here?”
Laren shrugged, which sent a shock of pain through her bad shoulder. She winced and asked, “Why not? I’m sure your servants can attire you as befits your station, if that’s what concerns you. The prince knows your condition. He’d probably deem it a great honor to be summoned to see you, and it might go far to mend any affront he has felt by how his visit has transpired thus far.”
“Yes . . .”
Laren could see Estora latching on to the idea, but Donal stepped forward. “Your Majesty?”
“What is it, Donal?”
“I protest bringing outsiders into your chambers.”
“This is a royal prince we are talking about,” Estora replied.
“He is still an outsider, a foreigner, and a possible danger to your person.”
“I will not be ruled by fear, Donal. I realize it is your task to protect me, but to give in to fear is to lose the battle before it is even engaged.”
“If it helps,” Laren said, “I can use my ability to read the prince.”
“Yes,” Estora said fiercely. “I say we do it. I think Zachary would approve.”
• • •
The next day, the prince arrived for tea at the appointed hour. As predicted, Javien had protested vigorously against the scheme, and Les Tallman had expressed his misgivings, but their queen overruled them.
As the prince and two select counselors entered Estora’s bed chamber, it was to a room lined with Weapons and several of Estora’s ladies in attendance. Two Hillander terriers panted beside the bed under the watchful eye of the kennel master. Her personal staff, including Anna, Laren was pleased to see, were at hand. She was less pleased to see Prime Brynston, but tried not to let her personal feelings about moon priests prejudice herself against the man. Ben was also present, which Vanlynn had insisted on, should Estora experience any distress. Laren, and counselors Javien and Tallman, completed the Sacoridian complement.
Laren had to hand it to Estora. Not only had she corralled an impressive retinue to be present for the prince’s visit, but she and her chamber were outfitted in regal adornment. She wore her royal raiment, her crown and jewels, and bore her scepter. Gone from the canopied bed were the feminine drapes of fabric. They were replaced by material ornamented with clan heraldry in brocade, silk, velvet, and silver thread. The top quilt featured a meeting of the Hillander terrier with the cormorant of Coutre. These, Estora explained, had all been meant for her marriage bed, but had arrived well after she had wed Zachary following the assassination attempt, more in line with the original wedding date.
As if this was not enough, Zachary’s swords had been brought in and prominently displayed on the wall, as if to represent him in his absence.
Prince Tuandre and his counselors bowed deeply to Estora.
“We welcome you, cousin,” she said.
“Most gracious queen,” Tuandre replied, “I am honored to meet you at long last, and that you have permitted me entrance to your most private sanctum during your confinement.”
“Please be at your ease,” Estora said with a sweeping gesture.
Servants brought forth cushioned chairs for Tuandre and his counselors, and a sumptuous tea of cakes and candied fruit was laid out and served. At first the conversation was of a cautious, polite nature of inconsequentialities, but Laren, peering at Tuandre over the rim of her teacup, sensed the prince gathering his courage to broach topics of greater import. His mind felt open, if wary, and absent of ill intent.