Long May She Reign(61)

Fitzroy was the first through the door. Relief rushed through me. He looked fine. He looked perfect. I ran forward and threw my arms around him. He let out a little oof of surprise, and then his arms settled around my back, my chin tucked on his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly. His breath tickled my neck. The sensation ran all down my spine.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’m fine. Are you—”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” I stepped back, suddenly aware of how close we had been. Too close. Stupidly close. He scraped his hand through his hair, making it even messier than before, and nodded at me. Such an awkward nod. I didn’t know Fitzroy was even capable of being awkward.

“Was anyone else hurt?” I said quickly. “Did Sten and his men leave?”

“They escaped, Your Majesty,” a guard to our right said. “We sent men after them, but they evaded our soldiers.”

“So no one else is hurt?”

“No one, Your Majesty.”

It felt too good to be true. Surely we hadn’t survived this so easily.

“Thank you,” I said to Fitzroy. “For fetching the guards.”

“They were already looking for you. I just pointed them in the right direction.”

One of the guards stepped forward. “When we realized the Fort was under attack, Your Majesty, we wanted to help.”

“You wanted to help me?”

“It’s our duty, Your Majesty. And you’re no murderer. Some of us appreciate what you’ve done, pardon my saying so.”

“What I’ve done?” I’d barely done anything.

“Returning that money, Your Majesty. Things are tight these days . . . and then refusing to kill that servant. Some would say you’re too soft, but the rest of us—well, we appreciate it, Your Majesty. Things have been hard for everyone recently.”

The words seemed to reach me through water, slightly fuzzy and hard to make out. I’d actually done something right. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Stop!” A guard by the door shouted into the corridor. I turned. Rasmus Holt was in the doorway. He was paler than I’d ever seen him, and his beard twitched with nervous energy. “Your Majesty,” he said. “You’re all right. When I heard what Sten intended, I thought—but you are truly protected by the Forgotten.”

I hurried toward him. He looked unharmed, too, if shaken. “Have you seen my father?”

“Your father . . .” Holt winced. “He was with me, at the time.”

My stomach dropped. If he was reluctant to tell me, if it was that bad . . . “And? What happened?”

“They locked us in. To ensure we did not interfere. Your father was—he was concerned for you. And then Torsten Wolff appeared and said they were leaving. I assumed you were dead, but then . . .” He shook his head.

“And my father?”

“He went with them.”

No. I stepped back, shaking my head. It didn’t make sense. “How could he have gone with them?”

“Sten took him. As leverage against you.”

“And you didn’t try to stop him?”

“Me, stop Torsten Wolff? I am an old man, Your Majesty. I am an adviser, not a soldier. And someone needed to remain here to help you, if you survived.”

I’d argued with him. Last time I’d seen my father, I’d shouted at him. Anger rose inside me, sharp and irrational. “So you should have gone in his place. You should have protected him.”

“They would not have thought me as valuable a hostage, Your Majesty. They only left me because they did not consider me worthwhile. And you need advice, now more than ever.”

He was right. It wasn’t his fault. But my father . . . “What will they do to him? What will happen?”

“I am certain he will be safe, Your Majesty. He would want you to focus on your own safety now.”

“How can he be safe? Sten just tried to kill me.”

“There is nothing you can do, Your Majesty!” Holt’s voice rose for the first time, the whites of his eyes gleaming. “Half of the court is gone, and several of the guards. No doubt Sten has gone to his own lands in the south, where he will have all the men he needs to support him. You cannot fight him.”

“I have to fight him.” I clenched my fists by my sides. “Call the council. Or what’s left of it. We need to plan.”

He bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

The remaining council, it turned out, was Holt and Norling. I suppose it made sense that Thorn had betrayed us. Surely the spymaster would have heard of Sten’s plan if she hadn’t been involved.

The council room had been left untouched, as cold and somber as always. The table seemed even more awkwardly large now, but I sat at the head of it anyway, pushing my fear away. I was too exhausted for preamble. “How long will it be before he attacks again?”

“It is hard to predict, Your Majesty,” Holt said. “He will gather support elsewhere in the kingdom first, to prove his right to the throne, and then I do not doubt he will return.”

“He has already started a campaign of words against us,” Norling said, “claiming Her Majesty was the one who poisoned the court. If people believe him, he may not even have to fight us himself.”