Long May She Reign(78)

“Perhaps, Your Majesty. I have always advised you because I want your reign to be strong. But now—I am concerned for your safety now, Your Majesty. I am concerned for you. Do not continue with this folly and put your life at risk.”

“The Forgotten support our queen,” Holt said in a low voice. “They will protect her. We will find a way.”

“The Forgotten are not here, Rasmus!” Norling snapped. “They have never been here. They will never be here. This is not some story of divine justice. There will be no magical intervention. This is a tragedy. We must leave.”

“I won’t leave,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. I couldn’t, not when people were relying on me, not when my father was at risk. I pressed my hands against the desk. “If I leave, I’ll just look even more guilty. I have to find a way.”

“Your Majesty—”

“No. I can’t leave.”

“A wise choice,” Holt said.

“A foolish one,” Norling said.

Holt ignored her. “We must focus on fortifying the city,” he said. “Rationing must be put in place, in case of a siege. I will send men to protect our water supply—”

He talked through the strategy, and I tried to focus, but everything he said was defensive. We would strengthen the walls, add to the guards, protect the food. As though we just needed the resolve to hold strong until Sten gave in.

So if my plan didn’t work, if I couldn’t convince him to stop his attack . . . what would we do then?

All I had on my side was science, and the bubbling rumors that I was chosen by the Forgotten. They didn’t exactly mesh together, and most people couldn’t really believe in my supposedly divine ascension. The Gustavites had planned an entire campaign around the idea that I was rotten, just like the court, that the Forgotten despised me. And maybe their feelings had come from an honest place, once, a desperate need for change, but they had still tried to murder me, still encouraged others to turn against me. They’d been quiet since Sten’s attack, since I’d distributed those pamphlets, but they were still an unknown quantity, potentially dangerous.

But I wasn’t who they thought I was. I cared, I did, and I wanted to make changes. I wanted to help people. Even if I wasn’t really chosen by the Forgotten, surely our aims might fit together. If Sten took the capital, it would be back to the way the court was before, undoing all of the Forgotten’s supposed interventions.

“Do you have anything to add, Your Majesty?” Holt said.

It was an insane idea. To convince the Gustavites to be on my side, to somehow twist around their entire agenda. If I could gently alter their ideology . . . but it would take subtlety, and time, and the nobles would be furious. It wasn’t exactly the perfect solution.

“I’ll go to the Minster this afternoon,” I said instead. “To pay my respects.” Make another show of my connection to the Forgotten, and let people think of it what they would. It seemed that faith would stop people from abandoning me, even if it wouldn’t do much more.

But could I really use people’s beliefs against them like that? If Holt had been involved in the murders, if he had been manipulating me all along, a puppet queen for his twisted agenda . . .

Could I manipulate them, too, to save myself?

Yes, I thought, and I hated myself slightly for the knowledge. I would manipulate them if it meant staying alive.

Norling was the first to leave after the council meeting concluded, marching off to arrange the Minster visit, while Holt reflected on his notes. I paused, too, standing behind my chair. I could ask him about his trip to the palace, or at least about things related to it, find some way to uncover the truth.

But if it had been suspicious, and I revealed what I knew too soon . . . it was too risky.

I had begun to walk toward the door when Holt spoke.

“Your Majesty? I hoped I could speak to you. In private.”

I glanced at Norling’s now-empty seat, and my heart started pounding. What could he want to say to me, that he couldn’t say in front of her? “All right,” I said carefully. “What is it?”

“You know that I am here to support you, Your Majesty. My goal—my only goal—is to help you survive.”

“I know.” And I did. Despite all my suspicion, I’d never doubted that he genuinely supported me. His belief was fervent, unsettling in its force. I was frightened by what he might have done in order to create this new court, what he might still be willing to do, but I knew he wouldn’t directly hurt me.

Which made his statement all the more unsettling.

“So you know that I am speaking to your best interests when I say that William Fitzroy is a danger to you, in more ways that you realize.”

“I know,” I said again. “You’ve told me.”

“But obviously I have not made the details clear enough, because you have ignored my advice. I told you that people are talking about you, saying you plotted to take the throne together. There are some filthy lies in there, Your Majesty, things that I do not wish to repeat, but Sten is more than happy to endorse them, and they are doing real damage to you. They are eroding our message of the Forgotten’s chosen queen.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I said, “but if people are already talking, I can’t change that now. It’ll only look more suspicious if I push him away, like they stumbled onto the truth.”