Long May She Reign(82)

“I don’t think it makes you foolish to think about it,” Madeleine said. “And clearly you have been thinking about it, whether you want to or not. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But . . .” I sighed. It didn’t make sense. “I don’t know. He kissed me. And he said he liked me, before, and he said he wanted to stay, but—I don’t know whether it means anything.”

“You don’t know if it means anything for him to kiss you and say he likes you and refuse to leave when an army is marching on us as we speak?”

“I know he’s my friend,” I said quickly. “But I don’t know—I don’t know whether it was just a kiss. If that makes sense. Some people—I’m sure some people will kiss anyone, when they feel like it, and not have it really mean anything. And some people will only kiss people if they really like them. I don’t know which Fitzroy is.”

“I don’t know if you can say anyone is only one type or the other,” Madeleine said carefully. “I think it depends on both people, and the circumstances. From what I’ve seen, he cares about you, Freya. But I’m not the person you should be asking.”

“I can’t ask him.”

“Of course you can,” she said with a grin. “You’re queen. You can do anything you like.”

Norling accosted me in the corridor outside the meeting room that night. “Your Majesty. May I have a moment?”

I nodded. She stood near the wall, almost in the shadows, and she beckoned me closer. “I need to tell you, Your Majesty, that we have found some of the Gustavites. We know where a few of them are staying, and the location of one of their meetings, tomorrow. What would you like us to do?”

We should arrest them, I knew. They’d tried to kill me, they could still have been the ones who killed the king. And yet—and yet. That idea came to me again, that perhaps I could talk to them, perhaps, if they knew me, they might be willing to support me.

It was a crazy, dangerous idea. And yet.

“Don’t do anything,” I said. “Not now.”

“This opportunity won’t last long, Your Majesty.”

“I just need to think about it.” And figure out whether my idea was complete lunacy, or only mostly insane.

Norling frowned, but she didn’t argue. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

I stepped toward the door again. The entire remaining court would be waiting inside, whatever that meant these days. Five people? Four? I still had to win them over, still had to seem like a good queen, despite all the things I’d done to upset them, despite everything.

And Fitzroy would be in there too. Fitzroy. My stomach jumped. The only thing scarier than seeing him again tonight would be not seeing him again, knowing he was hiding from me.

I let out a long breath and stepped through the door.

There was no fanfare this time, no startling announcement of my importance. But everyone looked up as I entered, sinking into bows and curtsies. The group was bigger than I’d expected. Twenty people, perhaps—Holt, Naomi, Madeleine, and Fitzroy, but also others I’d barely ever spoken to, people with no personal motivation to be here.

And none of the women were wearing the old fashions of the court. None of them. Their skirts were smaller, slighter, with less layers. Their hair was half loose, half pinned, no strange shapes and huge wire forms in sight. Even their jewels were kept to a minimum, as though they had all decided, as one, that such things were rather gaudy after all.

This was Madeleine’s doing.

It was my doing.

Madeleine’s, because yes, she had changed the way I dressed, altering the styles so that they didn’t swallow me, so that any natural hints of regality in me shone through. But mine, because they were emulating me. They wanted to look like I did.

That meant acceptance, didn’t it? That I was the leader, not the outsider, that these people, at least, were happy to see changes in the court. They were embracing me, symbolically at least, showing their support.

I felt stronger, just looking at them. The people who stayed. I’d spent my whole life terrified of failing to be who people wanted me to be, unable to speak in case the words were wrong, in case people laughed . . . but people had laughed at all my pretenses, all my ostentatious attempts to be queen. This group, this small group, was still here, still showing their support. And it might be fake, it might be politics, all part of the game, but not to all of them. Madeleine believed in me, and so did Fitzroy, and if they could, why couldn’t others? How many had just been playing the game of the court before, loathing it but continuing because everyone else acted that way? How many had avoided the capital to avoid it all?

I was done pretending. The court had been shattered, and we couldn’t rebuild it, not without a million cracks showing through. I had to be honest. I couldn’t trust my advisers, and the murderer might have been on my side, so what else could I do, in the face of all that, except stop playing any sort of game and just be? Be queen as I wanted to be queen, in the court and out. Be myself, be Queen Freya, be whatever sort of person that turned out to be.

I stepped forward to the front of the room. “Hi,” I said. An awkward start. “I just wanted to say something before—while things are quiet.” Don’t cringe, I told myself. Don’t think. Just keep going. “I know things are incredibly uncertain right now. Uncertain, and frightening. And I’m going to do everything I can to keep everyone safe, but it’s still scary, not knowing what will happen. For you all to remain here—I really appreciate it. Not in terms of lands and bribes and favors, but in real, genuine—” I stumbled for the words. How could I finish that? “I appreciate it,” I said again. “And also—I know some people have been upset with the things I’ve done since I became queen. Torsten Wolff, certainly. That I haven’t been harsher on our enemies, that I’ve been too concerned with the people and not put all of you first.” I could feel everyone watching me. I could feel Fitzroy watching me. “But I think that—everyone in Epria deserves a chance. I was just nobody, twenty-third in line, and now I’m queen, and I think . . . we can be so much greater, so much better, if we help everybody. If we care about everybody. We don’t need to throw jewels in rivers and cover ourselves in gold to show our worth and our strength. We can do it in other ways, by making the kingdom greater, by treating people well, by—we can be better than we are now, I know we can. We have so much, and we enjoy so much, and we can still enjoy it, still live our lives, but if we don’t use that power to make things better, who even are we? And perhaps Sten disagrees, but . . . that’s what I believe. I hope you all believe it, too.”