Long May She Reign(16)

I rapped three times on the door.

A long minute passed before it opened, and Naomi peeked through the gap.

She looked like a fraction of herself. She’d released the complicated hairstyle from the coronation banquet, leaving half-braided ropes hanging over her shoulders. Dark circles like bruises ringed her eyes.

She stared at me for a moment, and then threw herself forward, her arms flying around me. “Freya!” We collided, and she burrowed into me, her head pressing into the space under my chin. She murmured something into my shoulder, and I couldn’t understand the words, so I squeezed back, pulling her closer still.

She was crying, I realized. “I’m sorry,” I said, the words rushing out of me. “I’m sorry I abandoned you outside the Fort, I’m sorry I haven’t seen you before this. I wanted to, I kept asking, but everything was so chaotic, and my father—”

She shook her head. “I know you couldn’t see me. I just—I missed you. It’s been . . . I missed you.” She squeezed me again, and then shifted back. “Do you want to come in?”

“Yes,” I said. “I mean, if that’s all right. I wanted to—we should talk.” I glanced over my shoulder at my guard, who hovered a few feet away. “Do you mind waiting out here?”

“If that’s what Your Majesty wishes.”

I nodded, and Naomi pulled the door closed behind us.

Her room was barely salvaged from decay. Storage crates were still piled against the right wall, and Naomi’s clothes hung over boxes. Her bed was hidden under a pile of blankets, and the few lamps were still dusty, the light distorted by grime.

“Naomi, this is awful. Why did they put you here?”

“They haven’t had a chance to clean all the rooms yet. And I haven’t—I didn’t ask anyone. At least I have somewhere to stay.”

“You can’t stay here. Move up to the top floor, with me.”

Naomi shook her head. “I can’t. Those rooms are for you.”

“And I can do whatever I like with them, can’t I? I want you to stay. Please.”

I should have come sooner. Why had I left it so long? I should have fought harder. “Jacob,” I said, my voice raspy. “Did he—”

I already knew the answer, even if I couldn’t admit it, but when Naomi shook her head, I still felt like someone had punched me in the chest, knocking all the air from my lungs. “He didn’t make it.”

I hadn’t known Naomi’s brother well, but I had known him. He’d always winked at me, every time he saw me, and from him, it always felt like affection, never a joke at my expense. He called me Frey, too, “Hey, little Frey,” with that wink, whenever I went to find Naomi and he was nearby. For him to be gone . . .

“I’m sorry.” Such useless, meaningless words. I wanted to wash her grief out of her, to swallow it up so she wouldn’t have to feel it. I wanted to drag her brother back from death, so she’d feel whole again. I wanted to do something.

“Thank you.” Naomi glanced over at the arrow-slit window. “I still can’t believe it. How can they all be gone? It feels like this is just—I don’t know.” Her voice shook, and she swallowed, squeezing her eyes closed. “I’m just glad to see you.” She opened her eyes again, her voice turning determined. “How are you? How are you coping?”

“With what? Being queen?”

She nodded.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes,” she said fiercely. “It does. Sit down, and tell me.”

I perched on the edge of the bed, and Naomi sank down beside me. “I’m all right. I mean, I’m not all right, not really. I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’ll learn.”

“You’ll do it. I know you will.” Naomi pulled her bare feet onto the bed and rested her chin on her knees. “And you don’t have to be all right, you know. If you’re not.”

The familiar words made me smile, just slightly. “I’m still alive. I still have you. That’s more than most people can say now.” Naomi wrapped an arm around me again, pulling me closer. A knot in my chest loosened as her head fell onto my shoulder, honesty swelling inside me. “I’m scared,” I said quietly.

“Because you have to be queen?”

“No. Well, yes, but—I only survived by accident, Naomi. I wasn’t meant to be here.” The words felt too dangerous to speak aloud, as though speaking them made them true. “What if the murderer decides to finish the job?”

“Then I’ll kill them first,” Naomi said fiercely. “Nobody hurts my Freya.”

“You are terrifying when you’re angry.”

Naomi nodded decisively.

“I can’t trust anybody,” I said. “Not until I know. I’m supposed to have a council meeting tomorrow, and I just keep thinking—what if one of them was responsible? How can I possibly protect myself from that? But I don’t know how to be queen, and if I don’t trust them—”

“You have me,” Naomi said. “I’ll help you.”

I nodded. I knew that. Just her presence gave me strength, reminded me of all the things I could be. I sat up straighter. “I have to find out who the murderer was,” I said. “I have to solve this myself. It’s the only way I can keep myself safe.”