Long May She Reign(31)

She curtsied again and stepped aside for me and my guards to pass. I nodded at her, no idea what else to do. She seemed so earnest, but why would she bring that up now, in the corridor, whispered in my ear? The strangeness of it made me shiver. But I had to hurry on. I was already stupidly late.

When I reached Holt’s door, I knocked without pausing to catch my breath.

“Come in.”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said, as I swung through the door.

“That’s quite all right, Your Majesty,” Holt said. “A queen is not capable of being late.” He smiled as he rose from his chair. He’d settled into his new office quickly, with papers already covering his desk, and rows of books lining the walls. His smile caught slightly as he took in my appearance. “Your Majesty, is something wrong?”

“No,” I said. I batted at my dress, as though that would make the grime vanish, but it only sent a cloud into Holt’s otherwise spotless room. “I was just—I was cleaning.”

“We have servants for that, Your Majesty.” He sounded rather bemused.

“I didn’t want to risk them,” I said. He wouldn’t consider my laboratory very queenly, but he also couldn’t forbid me from using it, not with my title behind me. Advise against it, perhaps, but not forbid. And my secret was hardly a secret, with servants fetching supplies and me running around covered in hundred-year-old dust. “I was cleaning out a space in the basement”—the word dungeon felt too ominous—“to use as a laboratory. For—for my studies.”

I cringed slightly, expecting Holt’s frown of disapproval, but he simply nodded. “Ah, yes. Your father told me you’re quite the scholar. It should come in useful in the days ahead. And you intend to continue your studies here, in the Fort?”

“There’s no rule against it.”

“No, no,” Holt said. “Of course not. An intellectual queen. It is certainly a change, but it will be a welcome one, I think. And you plan to work on the test for poison that you mentioned in our meeting?”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh, I agree with you, Your Majesty. If it can be done, it should be done.” He smiled, and the look was almost grandfatherly. “Although, there will be other factors to consider. Shall we sit?” I nodded. “Being a taster pays well, Your Majesty. A test would deny people work. They might not thank you for it.”

“They might not thank me for their lives?”

“I am not saying it is a bad idea, Your Majesty. It would be a valuable tool. But we do not force anyone to become a taster. They assess the risks themselves, and they consider them worthwhile.”

“But they must be desperate if they continue now, after two different attacks.” There were choices, and then there were choices. People could say “everything is a choice” with as much haughtiness and superiority as they liked, but that didn’t mean desperate people wouldn’t take a third option if they could. “No one would choose that if they really had another option. We should develop a test, and we should find other jobs for people, so they do not need to risk their lives for me.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty. It is a good thought. I just wished to remind you that a good queen should consider all the options, and all the potential consequences. Situations are rarely as simple as they first appear. Consider things complexly, Your Majesty. It always helps.”

“Then why didn’t you support me in the meeting?” I said, the words bursting out of me without thought. “When the others were speaking against me?”

“As much as I dislike it, they were right, that we do not have the resources to spend at the moment, when so much else is at risk. We have to put your safety first. But if a test were to appear, well . . . it would be a good thing, don’t you agree?”

After that, he talked through the etiquette of the court, rules I should have known, rules I’d never imagined before. Which fork to use for every possible dish at a banquet. How to greet different people of rank. The different tiers of nods and curtsies, depending on what one wished to be conveyed. He didn’t actually demonstrate the curtsies, but he described them in minute detail, and commented as I practiced, correcting the slightest shift in my posture. When I wasn’t bobbing around the room, I took frantic notes, desperate to cram every scrap of detail into my brain.

It had all seemed completely pointless to me before, and a part of me still wanted to laugh at all this meaningless ritual now. But the nobles expected it, and I had to appease them. I had to cling to the things that they knew.

And I had very little time to learn. The funerals would take place in a few days, which meant two incredibly awkward banquets. One the night before, to welcome everyone who had traveled to the city, and one afterward, to commemorate the dead.

And that speech, of course. I didn’t want to think about that.

Holt, however, clearly considered it a priority. He handed me a copy of their current draft for my comments. It all seemed fine to me, as diplomatic and bland as I could imagine, and I ran through it once or twice with Holt, tripping over the words. Just reading it in front of Holt was enough to make my heart race. I couldn’t possibly recite it in front of the entire new court.

But Holt was surprisingly patient. “I remember my first speeches,” he said, with a smile. “I was terrible, Your Majesty. I wrote and memorized them myself, but I still stumbled over the words. You’ll do well, Your Majesty. We just need to practice. Develop your confidence.”