Long May She Reign(59)

“We want to protect you, Your Majesty,” the brunette said. “We were on patrol, when one of the other guards told us . . . we wanted to find you. Please, how can we help?”

“Wait at the door,” Madeleine said. “Do not let anyone in without permission.”

The brunette nodded. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Carina, Your Majesty. Carina Carlsen.”

Carina Carlsen. I tucked that knowledge away. I hoped I could trust her.

The throne room had been attacked, too. The banners, the paintings . . . all of it had been torn down, shredded. The gold plates had been knocked off the table, the crystal shattered on the floor. But Madeleine stepped straight over it, and I followed. The throne loomed at the far end of the room, and I would certainly fit in it now, in my soaked, bedraggled nightgown. I doubt I’d ever looked less like a queen. But I would be more like a queen sitting on the throne than gawping beside it, so I sat.

“Straighten your back,” Madeleine said. She ran her fingers through my hair, working out the knots. Then she pulled some pins out of her own hair and stuck them between her teeth, twisting mine into something that must have resembled a style. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but it didn’t seem like the extravagant, heavy styles of the court. Just the feel of it made me sit straighter, feel more regal somehow.

I could hear people speaking outside the throne room—or maybe above it. The Fort carried sound in strange ways. But Madeleine did not seem concerned. She continued to arrange me, her hands steady.

As a final touch, Madeleine pulled out the necklace she’d rescued from my rooms. She draped it around my neck, leaving the ruby to gleam against the white of my nightgown.

My heart pounded in my throat. I wasn’t ready for this.

Then I heard footsteps outside the door.

“Stop!” one of my guards said. “In the name of the queen.”

I had to invite them in. I had to stall them, but if I looked like I was in control, like I didn’t really care about their threat . . . I had to be in control.

“Let them in,” I said, as loudly as I dared. The words seemed to bounce around the destroyed room.

“Your Majesty—” one of the guards began. I cut her off.

“Come in, whoever you are.”

Torsten Wolff strode through the door. A sword gleamed in his hand. It was clean, though—he hadn’t hurt anyone yet.

“Cousin!” Madeleine said, stepping forward slightly. Her voice was all sweetness and light. “How good to see you.”

More men entered behind Sten. None of them were bothering to conceal their faces, I realized. They didn’t care who knew about their involvement. Perhaps they didn’t expect any witnesses to survive.

I kept my own expression as impassive as I could. All I had to do was look like a queen.

“Lady Freya,” Sten said. “Hiding on your stolen throne.”

“Not hiding, cousin,” Madeleine said, her voice still so calm, so lovely. “This is a queen’s place, is it not? On her throne?”

“It is,” he said. “A queen’s place. But she is not a queen.”

“Clearly, you are mistaken.”

“How can you stand there beside her, Madeleine?” he hissed. “She murdered our friends.”

I clutched the arms of the throne. “I didn’t murder them!”

“Did you think no one would notice? I’ve been to your laboratory, Freya. It’s full of poisons. Notes on their effects. You’re experimenting in an old torture chamber, and you didn’t think anyone would suspect you?”

“I’m trying to solve the murders.” Calm, I thought. Stay calm. I couldn’t manage the same light tone as Madeleine, but I could at least seem somewhat collected. “Why would I keep arsenic with me if I’d used it to kill the whole court? You can’t think I’m that foolish.”

“It would be foolish,” Sten said. “But I am not convinced that you are not a fool. I suspected you from the beginning. You attended the banquet, and then left with your friend before the poison struck. But I didn’t know until yesterday, when you decided to pardon your accomplices.”

“I didn’t pardon them.” Calm. I took a deep breath. “I didn’t want them to be executed. That doesn’t mean I support them.”

“And yet you have no respect for the dead. You stole tributes from the river. You admitted to reading a book that says we should all be killed. And you do your strange little experiments, with poison. You can’t be queen.”

“So you’re planning to kill me?” I was proud of how steady I sounded. I tilted up my chin, just a little, so I was looking down at him even more. Imperious.

“I want you to come quietly,” he said. “Admit your crimes, and face justice.”

“I didn’t do it, Sten. It wasn’t me.”

He glowered at me, his hatred so strong that I almost flinched. “Get up,” he said. His eyes lingered on the necklace that Madeleine had given me. “Take off those jewels and come along quietly. I don’t want to have to kill you, no matter what you’ve done.”

If I moved an inch, if I gave any sign of breaking, he would murder me and leave my blood to soak into the stones. I could see it in his eyes. And he might murder me either way, but Madeleine . . . Madeleine believed. Madeleine did not look afraid.