The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(104)
Many have stepped forward to offer themselves. “We have five hundred men in our nonmagical forces so far, and the smiths believe they can forge weapons for up to a thousand before the thaw. We have another three hundred women and men who have volunteered as archers. A few of the hunters are working as bowyers, and Topias thinks we’ll have enough for every recruit. But—”
“Will our soldiers even know what to do with them?” Raimo asks, completing my thought. In comparison with the Soturi horde, our forces are paltry and ill-prepared. Yes, Sofia decimated the Soturi navy, but as one of the cave dwellers pointed out, that was only part of their might. We’re so vulnerable, but we have one thing they don’t. When the time comes, I’ll face the enemy at the front with our army, alongside Oskar and his wielders.
I’ll be his shield. He’ll be my sword.
But we needed Sig, the Fire Suurin. We needed the cuff of Astia. We need a Valtia. We need a well-trained army. The odds rise high, looming over me like a mighty wave about to break.
I lift my head and straighten my shoulders. “Thank you, Raimo.”
His gnarled fingers close over my upper arm. “I’ll be on the platform at the coronation. It’s going to be fine. No one will know. And you won’t be alone.”
His shuffling footsteps signal his exit. “Then why do I feel that way?” I whisper. I walk over to the copper mirror and sink into the chair. I stare at my reflection, then close my eyes. You were born for this, Mim whispers as a lump forms in my throat. I can almost feel her soft hands on my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Mim,” I whisper. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you behind.”
When I open my eyes, I swear I see her shadow in the mirror, brown curls, soft smile. I’m proud to serve you. Elli, you will always be my queen.
“You’re in my heart,” I say in a choked voice. “And you’ll always be safe there.”
“What’s that?” Helka asks as she bustles into the room, her grayish-blond hair braided and coiled at the base of her neck.
“Nothing.” I smooth my hands over my face and blink away unshed tears. “I’m ready.”
She begins to brush and braid my hair, and I sit up straight and still. I’ve come to believe that the ceremonial makeup was just another way for the elders to silence the Valtia, to imprison her in a mask of beauty, but the changes I plan must come little by little. Today I will wear it, because the Kupari are just learning how to stand on their feet and test their own power, and they need a symbol to give them confidence until they have enough of their own.
For as long as they need me, that’s what I’ll be.
The coronation was a success. The people cheered. The constables were able to recruit several dozen young men and women for our new army. The sight of me in full regalia inspired their patriotism, and I’m glad—we all have a part to play in our own salvation. Lahja smiled and waved, lifting spirits high. When Raimo made the torches flare and twist, she pressed her head against my chest but didn’t scream.
My limbs are leaden as I step from the tub and let Helka dry me off. She’s done this dance so many times, which is why I asked her to return to the temple as my handmaiden. She brushes my hair and plaits it loosely. I can tell by the solid slowness of her movements that she’s thinking of Sofia, all the days they shared together—so many but not nearly enough. Her dimpled chin trembles as she lowers my gown over my head, and I sigh as it slips over my body and falls to my ankles, soft and comforting. “Is Lahja awake? I promised to play with her.”
Helka lets out a sniffly chuckle. “When I went down to make sure her dress was properly packed away, Janeka told me she was already sleeping. Today tired her out.”
I swallow back my disappointment. The warm weight of her body soothes me, gives me purpose . . . and beats back the loneliness, for a few moments at least. “I see.”
She strokes my arm. “My Valtia—Sofia—she loved you like you love that little girl. You were Lahja’s age when you came here. Sofia hated not seeing you. But she made sure we gave her reports of your activities every single day.”
My face crumples with the grief of lost years. The elders kept us apart. Another part of their scheme to break the Valtia’s will, to bend her to their desires, all under the guise of keeping her strong and pure in her magic. And because she had dedicated her life to being all the Kupari needed, she complied. But it hurt both of us, and I won’t let that happen with Lahja. “Things are different now. I’ll see her tomorrow.”
Helka smiles. “I’m glad, my Valtia,” she says hoarsely. She smooths back a tendril of blond-gray hair from her wrinkled forehead. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head. “Thank you,” I murmur. “Have a good night.”
The emptiness in my chest yawns wide and numb as I pull open the doors to my balcony and step into the night air. We have a month of winter left at the most. The icy wind swirls about me, sending shivers from the top of my head to the soles of my bare feet. The moon hangs high in the darkness, shining down on the fissured white face of the Motherlake. The stars twinkle, mysterious and silent, carving out our future in the ebony expanse.
My fingers curl over the marble railing, and I close my eyes, letting the icy breeze skim over my face, pretending it’s Oskar’s magic instead. It slips along my neck and under the edge of my gown, giving me goose bumps. “I miss you,” I breathe.