Long May She Reign(48)

I spun back to the door, and jumped. Madeleine Wolff stood there, hand raised ready to knock. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” she said, “but they’re waiting for you in the hall, and I heard you needed to change. I came to help, but if it is a bad time—”

“No,” I said. I took a deep breath, forcing the anger down, away. “No, we’re finished here. Thank you.”

Madeleine followed me up to my rooms in silence. When we reached my bedchamber, she stepped back, looking over my dress. “This will have to go,” she said. “But if we dab at your hair, and rearrange it slightly, I think we can get away without washing it. Otherwise you’ll be hours before dinner.”

She searched through my wardrobe for something else I could wear. The choice couldn’t have been particularly inspiring for a girl like her. A few of my old dresses, a few of the queen’s dresses that we didn’t know what to do with, and the four or five new dresses that had already been completed by the sleep-deprived seamstresses. “I was going to ask you if you wanted blue or yellow, but it seems we won’t have that choice.” She leaned back, head tilted in thought. “Red,” she said finally. “Like sunrise. You’ll blend in with all the yellow, but still stand out. And this neckline will look perfect on you if we add a single chain.”

She pulled the dress out of the wardrobe and nearly stumbled over Dagny. The cat had appeared out of nowhere, and was now sniffing around her feet. “Oh,” Madeleine said. “Hello, beautiful.”

“That’s Dagny,” I said.

“Dagny,” she murmured, bending down to stroke her. She was slightly tentative, as though unsure what Dagny would do. Probably a normal reaction for someone not used to cats, but a strange one to see from the ever-poised Madeleine Wolff. Dagny arched her back and twisted her head, demanding more attention, and Madeleine smiled. “Oh, aren’t you wonderful!”

“Why are you helping me?” I asked. “I mean—is Naomi all right?”

“Naomi is still by the river.” Madeleine stood. “Her brother died at the banquet, didn’t he? This morning must have been difficult for her. I thought I could help, in her place.”

“You noticed she didn’t come back?”

“I notice a lot of things. And, I admit, I’ve been wanting the chance to talk to you again. Maybe even talk about fashion?” She draped the red dress on the back of a chair and moved to stand behind me. “You have a different kind of beauty from Queen Martha, I think. I’d love to see what we could do with it.” She began to unfasten the back of my dress while I frowned. What could I even say to that? It was obviously flattery—“different kind of beauty” was code for “not pretty,” I knew—but even so . . .

“Why did you warn me about your cousin? At the banquet last night.”

Madeleine walked over to the side table, where a bowl of water still waited from this morning. She dipped a sponge in. “I thought you needed to know. I don’t have anything to tell you specifically, but . . . I am wary of him. He’s been so angry since the king died. Not entirely like himself. He is looking for enemies in every shadow, and since you are now the queen . . . he has been assessing you. But not accurately, or I don’t believe so. I don’t think he will do anything foolish, but I thought you should know. So that you can be wary, too.”

“So that I can appease him, you mean?” How could I appease someone who suspected me of mass murder?

“No. I think, were he in his usual mind, he would appreciate you. But he is not in his usual mind. Just . . . be patient with him. He is an intelligent ally, once he is willing to listen. I hope he can see you, as I have.”

“You think you see the real me?”

She laughed lightly. “I do not know whether I should say this, Your Majesty, but you are incredibly easy to read. You don’t try to hide your feelings, not when they count. For someone like Sten, used to everyone lying around him, that might look like a lie, too. Another trick. But it is refreshing, Your Majesty. Or at least I find it so.”

She dabbed at my cheek, peering close as she worked. “I heard what you said before,” she continued. “About the fee. I think you’re very brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yes. It can’t be easy, to stand up to your father and your advisers and everything that’s come before. But you did.”

“It’s not bravery. It’s just the right thing to do.”

“Not everyone would see it that way.”

I bit my lip as she tilted my chin, dabbing the sponge behind my ear. “So your advisers didn’t tell you?” she said. “About the fee?” When I hesitated, she added, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Your Majesty, but I couldn’t help overhearing.”

Then there was no point lying to her. “No. They didn’t.”

“People will always try to see their will done, when things change like this. They want influence for themselves, I suppose. But you have good instincts, Freya. You can make things right.”

“And what about you?” I said. Anger still brewed inside me, making me bold. “What do you want to influence?”

“I want to make things better,” she said. “Nothing more or less than that.”

The feast seemed to go on for hours, despite the fact that nobody ate a bite. People whispered together, their voices a harsh buzz, and I tried to eat, forcing the pheasant down my throat. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen in the city. What else had I missed, while I sat blindly in this castle, worrying about speeches and jewels? People had been shouting so many things, too many to make the words out . . . what other crimes had been committed in my name, without me knowing at all?