Long May She Reign(63)

“The company I keep?”

“People have noticed, Your Majesty, how you and William Fitzroy have been growing closer. I understand that he is a—pleasant young man, but it is not good for you to be seen with him, in such circumstances. As I mentioned before—”

“You said he might be a threat, I know. But he protected me, when Sten attacked. He could easily have turned against me.”

“That is not the only issue,” Holt said. “Fitzroy’s existence is symbolic of the past court’s corruption. If you wish to separate yourself from that, you must separate yourself from him.”

Anger flared inside me. “He isn’t a symbol. He’s a person. And I can’t kick him out of the court because of that.”

“Not kick him out, Your Majesty. But maybe—do not associate with him. For all our sakes.”

“There is one more possibility we must consider,” Norling said, her voice cutting over the silence left by Holt’s suggestion. She seemed determined to move the conversation on. “Sten is out of our reach for now, but his cousin, Madeleine, remains here. She may prove a useful bargaining piece.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He has your father, Your Majesty. No doubt he means to use that against you. But we have his cousin. I suggest we arrest her, and—”

“No.” I didn’t need to hear the rest.

“Your Majesty. If it might help us—”

“No,” I said again. “Madeleine has done nothing wrong. She saved my life tonight.”

“This is war, Your Majesty,” Holt said softly. “Sometimes we must act in ways that—”

“No. Madeleine is to be left alone. Sten knows she’s still with us. That will have to be enough.”

I returned to my rooms, limbs aching, as the sun rose. Mila and Carina stood watch, promising to keep me safe despite their exhaustion. I locked the door of my quarters anyway, and shoved a small table in front of it. Just to be safe.

My rooms were half ruined. Chairs knocked over, tapestries torn down, the dresses in the wardrobe shredded by swords. Naomi had clearly tried to start the cleanup, but she was now asleep in a chair, a circle of neatness around her. Dagny, curled up on Naomi’s lap, pricked her ears when I entered the room, but she didn’t move.

I began slowly, carefully, putting things back into place. My brain was too full of the night’s events to sleep.

“Your Majesty? Freya?” I spun around. Madeleine Wolff stood in the doorway to my bedroom, hands clutched carefully in front of her.

“Madeleine. What are you doing here?”

“I hoped I might be able to help you.”

“I locked the door. I barricaded it—”

“I’ve been waiting for you to return. I didn’t want to wake Naomi, so I was exploring a little. I hope I didn’t startle you.” She took a step forward. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” I scraped the hair away from my face. “No. No, I’m not all right.” My father was gone, and I’d been attacked, and the danger of the situation felt all the clearer now, the metaphorical dagger hanging by a thread over my heart. “Why are you here?”

“Because I think you are a good person. I don’t want to see you hurt. And I think—I think you might need my help.” She stepped closer. She hadn’t changed out of her water-stained dress, but somehow, she managed to make the damage look deliberate. “I can help you, if you’ll let me. You need to win people over, make allies, more than ever. And I’m told I have a talent for that.”

“Why would you want to help me? Your cousin—”

“My cousin is wrong. And you . . .” She paused, her pink lips slightly apart. “You saved your cat.”

That was the last thing I expected her to say. “What?”

“When you were running for your life. You came back to fetch your cat. I knew you didn’t deserve what Sten had planned. I knew you were going to be a good queen, and that I should warn you. But when I saw that . . . you’re a good person, Freya. I want to help you. I know you’ll be a good queen, if given the chance.”

She was supporting me because of Dagny? I turned away, raking my fingers through my hair. “You think I’m a better person than Sten?”

“Does it matter? Sten was part of the old court, yes, and he would probably be a good ruler. But it’s not his throne.”

Madeleine had saved my life. But for her to turn her back on her cousin, on everything she had known . . . I didn’t know if I could trust her. It didn’t quite make sense. “You liked the old court. Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “And no. I liked the people. I liked the laughter of it, the glamour. Always being around people, different people, learning their ins and outs . . . yes, I liked that. But it could be a cold place, too. Callous. Too wrapped up in its own extravagance to notice anyone or anything outside it. It was hard. But my friends were there. My life was there. I missed it whenever my doctors sent me to the countryside. They clearly knew little about me, if they thought peace and silence would make me feel better. But I suppose they did save my life, in the end.”

“What was wrong with you?” It was too blunt a question, but perhaps if Madeleine answered that, I’d know whether or not I could trust her.