Long May She Reign(64)

“Melancholy. Nothing more or less than that. I have suffered it often. Not because I do not like the court, but because . . . well, I do not know why. It is just one of those things.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder and smiled slightly. “This time was particularly bad, though. It was so strong it was like a physical illness. I had never had stomachaches like that. But the doctors said it was melancholy, just melancholy, and that time away would heal it. ‘A fragile disposition,’ they called me.” She laughed. “As though one needs to be fragile to be sad.”

“What were you sad about?”

“That is not the question to ask. I did not feel sad over anything particular. I just felt sad. Have you not had the sensation? You are lucky if not.” She sank onto the floor, her skirts swelling around her. Dagny stretched and leaped from Naomi’s lap, before strutting over and butting Madeleine’s hand for attention. “You should arrange more entertainments,” she said. “I know it may seem crass, considering the circumstances, but if people do not see you as queen . . .”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I understand. But I can’t be what they want to see.”

“And have they told you that?”

“They’ve always judged me, even before all of this.”

“Are you so sure? Few of the people who survived the banquet were close to the king. And have you ever given them reason to like you? Spoken to them? It might be that they are nicer than you think. Be yourself, Freya. It’s the only way you can succeed now.” She stroked Dagny under her chin. “I would love to help you. If you’ll accept me. And I’d love to stay here. With my cousin gone, and all my friends . . . please, Freya. Will you accept me?”

I chewed my lip. “Yes,” I said. After the warmth of her words, it was all I could say. “Yes, please help.”





TWENTY


“TELL ME, YOUR MAJESTY, WHERE WERE YOU ON THE evening of the banquet?”

“I, um—I went home.”

Fitzroy shook his head. I was perched on the side of the center table of my laboratory, to emulate my throne, while Fitzroy paced, bombarding me with questions. Dagny was grooming her paws beside me, while Naomi stood next to the cabinets, preparing different metal wires for the next round of tests. “If you wanted to sound suspicious, congratulations. Otherwise, no.”

I had listened to Holt’s advice. I’d even considered it, for a moment. Just long enough to confirm that I thought Fitzroy was a person, a good person, and that I could never throw him aside because of something he couldn’t control. I wanted to survive, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice that.

“But it’s the truth,” I said to him now. “I did go home. I left with Naomi.”

She shook her head, not pausing in her work. “I can’t save you from this one, Freya. It did sound suspicious.”

“It’s not what you’re saying,” Fitzroy said. “It’s the way you’re saying it. Like you think your words might be cause for someone to murder you.”

“My words might cause someone to murder me.”

Fitzroy raised his eyebrows at me, trying to look stern.

“Well, how should I answer it, then?” I frowned down at the paper where I’d written all the sample questions and answers we’d practiced so far. Fitzroy’s introduction to Not Getting Ousted was supposed to prevent me from making the same mistakes I’d made the last time someone challenged me, but so far all it had done was reinforce how ill-prepared I was. “If I tell them I ran home to do experiments in my lab, I’ll only discredit myself more. Sten accused me because of my lab.”

“So you can’t hide it,” Naomi said. “You might as well be honest. I think it makes you sound interesting. And intelligent.”

“It makes me sound like not a queen.”

“It’s not the answer they would expect,” Fitzroy said. “But maybe that’s good. You’re not exactly an accomplished liar. And the court likes a bit of novelty. Maybe it would intrigue them.”

“My experiments are not a bit of novelty! They’re important research, and—”

“I know, Freya,” Fitzroy said. “Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t know? But does it matter if people think that? If it’s based on the truth and it makes them like you, then you should use it.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter, shifting back into the role of interrogator again. “So, Your Majesty. What were you doing on the evening of the banquet? I didn’t see you there.”

“I went home,” I said. “I, uh—I wanted to do an experiment.”

“No.”

“You are not helping.”

“All right,” he said. He stopped in front of me. “Just tell me. Stop worrying about every word, and tell me.”

“But I can’t stop worrying about every word. Isn’t that what this is for? Because my words are useless?”

“You’re smart, Freya. You’re convincing, when you forget to worry. When you’re talking about your experiments, or your theories. Just let yourself speak like that.”

I took a deep breath. Fitzroy never let me feel completely at ease, but at least I could trust him to be honest. His emotions were always so clear around me that I didn’t have to worry about what he might think but not say. I should just address my words to him. “I was inspired at the ball,” I said slowly. “I thought that hairpins might be the key to an experiment I’ve been working on, about—about creating portable, long-lasting heat without flame. To help keep hands warm in the winter. I hurried home to try it, along with Naomi. I was there when I heard the news.”