Long May She Reign(47)

Her pleas were cut off as a guard grabbed her and wrenched her away.

“Wait!” I said. “What funeral fee?” But the carriage continued on, the woman almost out of earshot. “Stop,” I said to the driver. “Stop, I have to speak to that woman.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” the driver said. “It wouldn’t be safe.”

“That doesn’t matter. I need—” But the woman had been swallowed by the crowd again, and the carriage was relentless, plowing its way down the street.

I turned to look ahead again, feeling suddenly sick. I had no idea what the woman had been talking about, but I should have. I was queen, and people were getting arrested in my name, because they couldn’t afford to pay for—for all this? And no one had told me?

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I was queen, and I had no idea what was happening in my kingdom, beyond the Fort’s walls. I’d been concerned with the murder, and with the nobles, while my advisers were doing things in my name, making decisions that changed people’s lives. No one had told me about a curfew. No one had told me about a funeral fee. I hadn’t known to ask, but I should have. It was my responsibility now, but I hadn’t recognized it.

Like the jewels in the ships. I’d looked at them, not an hour ago, and thought about how wasteful they were. How people would drown in the river to find them. I’d thought it, and I’d done nothing, even though I was the one person with the power to change it. If people drowned in the river, they should blame me. If we didn’t have enough money to fund the kingdom after throwing all those gemstones away, that was my fault.

I hadn’t thought. I was spending all my time worrying about murders and nobles, a single threat and a couple of hundred people at most, when hundreds of thousands of people filled the kingdom, their lives relying on whatever I did.

And no, I hadn’t made any of these decisions. I hadn’t even known they were being made. But I was queen. Ignorance wasn’t an excuse.

As soon as my carriage stopped in front of the Fort, I leaped out and marched through the front gates. I had to find my father. I had to speak to him.

I didn’t have to search for long. He was waiting for me in the corridor. “Freya!” he said. “What happened?”

“I need to speak to you. Right now.”

“About the tomatoes? Freya, what—”

“Right now.” I strode over to a side room and yanked open the door. I was almost shaking with anger. I was failing, and my father was letting that happen. He was treasurer, wasn’t he? And he hadn’t told me. He hadn’t told me.

“What’s the funeral fee?” I said, leaving the door to hang ajar behind us.

My father frowned, like he still couldn’t understand what this was about. “It’s a fee, Freya. To pay for the funerals.”

“I never agreed to a funeral fee.”

“We needed to fund the funerals somehow. Freya, why are you asking me about this?”

“A woman grabbed me in the street.” My voice was shaking. My whole body was shaking. “She said she couldn’t afford to pay the funeral fee, so her husband was arrested.”

My father nodded. “We have to be fair to everyone, Freya. Everyone must contribute. There must be consequences if they refuse.”

“They’re not refusing if they can’t afford to pay! Are you actually saying that you’re arresting people for being unable to help fund a funeral where we burned silks and threw hundreds of jewels into the river?”

“May I remind you, Freya,” my father said, his voice sharp now, “that you are the one who wanted us to involve all of the dead in the funeral? That was not cheap. If all the city’s dead were included, all the city must pay for it.”

“But it wasn’t all the city! These were nobles who died because they ate a cake that was literally made of gold. And then we say we can’t afford their funerals, so people in the city have to go hungry to pay for it?”

My father rested a hand on my shoulder. He looked annoyed now, as though I were the one being unreasonable. “Freya, calm down. You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“If I don’t, it’s because you kept this a secret from me. I am the queen. Me. You are not to impose any more fees—any more laws—without my explicit agreement. Do you understand?”

“Freya—”

“Do you understand?” My anger was spilling out, washing all shyness away. My father had betrayed me in this. He’d done an awful thing, and claimed it was in my name, and I couldn’t let it happen again, not ever.

“I am your father, Freya.”

“And I am the queen. Either you agree that all my laws will pass by me, or I will find a new treasurer.”

My father stared at me.

“This woman was taken by the guards. I want her and her husband freed. And the fee will be returned to every commoner who paid it.”

“Freya—”

“All of them.”

My father’s eyes glinted with fury. “We will discuss it at the next council meeting, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, we will discuss the progress you’ve made tomorrow. And bring me a copy of Gustav’s book then, too. I need it.” I wouldn’t let my councillors keep me ignorant any longer.