Long May She Reign(81)

The inside of the Minster was almost empty. The priest stood by the altar, and he bowed at me as I entered, but he did not speak.

I walked down the aisle, my heart pounding. So much had changed since the last time I had walked here. Since those people had watched me, waiting, their expectation and grief filling the air.

I stopped before the altar and stared up at its carved faces. I couldn’t have identified even half of them. I knew the most common names of the Forgotten, like anybody, but that didn’t mean I could match them to whatever idealized images people created. But, as I considered them all, I decided that the tall woman had to be Valanthe. She had a kind face and determination in her eyes. Like someone who would never be cruel, but would never give up.

She’d saved me, in a way, when Sten had attacked. Not directly, not with any divine intervention, but the idea of her . . . her necklace had made him hesitate. And now the idea of the Forgotten was helping me again, making people support me, making them fall to their knees and ask for my blessing.

I didn’t believe in them. Perhaps beings had lived in Epria a long time ago and been smarter and wiser than people were now, but they weren’t immortal, they weren’t watching out for us, they weren’t influencing us and preparing to return. I had to use my own wits to survive.

But I sent a silent wish to them, anyway. Just in case.

“So,” Madeleine said, as she pinned my hair in place that evening. “What happened?’

“What do you mean?”

She tapped lightly on the back of my neck. “You’ve been in a daze all afternoon. You keep smiling to yourself. I know that smile. Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” I picked at the skin around my fingernail. I’d been not thinking about Fitzroy all afternoon. I hadn’t seen him. Maybe because he was avoiding me. Maybe because he’d listened to me. Maybe because . . . I really didn’t know.

Madeleine shook her head, but she didn’t argue.

“Do you think—” I stopped.

“Occasionally. Should I be thinking about something in particular?”

“I was just wondering. Fitzroy. He—you knew him, before all this happened. Didn’t you?”

Madeleine twisted more strands into place. “I did.”

“Do you think—I never spoke to him, before. Do you think he could ever like me, really? If all these things hadn’t happened?”

She was quiet for a moment, considering. “If all these things hadn’t happened, perhaps not. You’d never spoken to each other, and I don’t know if that would have changed. But if you’re asking me if I think he could truly like you now . . . yes, I think so. He has always worked hard to make people like him, but he seems genuine to me.” She plucked more pins off the dresser, smiling. “So. Tell me. Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?”

“What?”

“I’m guessing you kissed him, if you’re asking me whether he could like you.”

“Who’s kissing somebody?” Naomi swung into the room, half her hair pinned up, half of it still loose. “What are you saying? Freya kissed somebody? Was it Fitzroy?”

Madeleine smiled. “Freya was just going to tell us.”

My face burned. “I didn’t kiss him. Why would I? I can’t think about that right now. There’s so much going on. I . . .” I couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Ah,” Madeleine said. “So he kissed you.”

“How—?”

“I told you, Freya. You have that expression.”

“Fitzroy kissed you?” Naomi practically bounced over to us. “That’s fantastic! It’s fantastic, right? Because you like him. Did you tell him you liked him?”

I stared at the remaining pins on the dresser. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like? I need details.”

Madeleine leaned closer, adjusting my curls. “Was it a good kiss?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Yes. I think so.”

“You only think so?”

“I’ve never had a kiss before. I have nothing to compare it to.”

Naomi sank into a chair beside us. “Did your stomach flip? Did he put his hands in your hair?”

“He didn’t put his hands anywhere.”

“Not anywhere?”

“It was quick.” I should have more to say, shouldn’t I? Did that mean it hadn’t been good? “My stomach did—flip, though.”

“I knew it,” Naomi said. “I knew you liked him.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to kiss him again, if you’re not sure,” Madeleine said. “Gather more evidence. In the name of science.”

“Madeleine!” I pushed her away, and she swayed, giggling.

“But you want to, don’t you? I can see it in your face.”

That thought was terrifying, too. Almost as terrifying as the thought of not kissing him again. “Maybe.”

“Only maybe?” Naomi said.

“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I want to kiss him again. But it’s not the right time!” My voice rose, the words rushing out of me. “There are too many other things going on for me to worry about this. And people have already said that Fitzroy and I are plotting together. I’m not going to be foolish about this.”