Long May She Reign(85)

He bowed again as I approached.

“It is good to meet you,” I said.

“And you, Your Majesty.”

He was a good actor. He would have done well in court.

He led me and two of my guards through the entrance hall and into a busy sitting room. A mishmash of people had gathered there, from boys younger than me to a woman with ghost-white hair and more wrinkles than skin. Some were dressed in rough cotton and wool, some finer clothes, a couple dressed like the lower edges of nobility—people from all parts of the city, all parts of life, perhaps thirty of them in all. The group was bigger than my court.

They weren’t all as good at acting as the man who opened the door. Fear vibrated through the room, and while some looked at me with wide, uncertain eyes, others looked almost aggressive, their expressions daring me to challenge them. They would be the ones to watch.

No one moved to acknowledge my arrival. They all seemed too startled, or else too angry. I guessed it would never have crossed their minds that the queen might stroll into their meeting this afternoon and give them a not-quite-natural little smile. If the king had walked into my home a month ago, I’d have fallen over my own feet in shock, and I had seen him frequently, even if it was usually from afar.

No one spoke. They didn’t seem to know what to do. “Thank you,” I said eventually. I didn’t vomit on them—the first success of the meeting. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

More stares. Then the elderly woman near the door seemed to remember herself. “Your Majesty.” She stood, slowly, and began to curtsy. Her face contorted from the effort, like she was in pain.

“No, no,” I said quickly, darting forward and putting my hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about that. We aren’t in court.”

“No,” a man said. “No, that we’re not.” He was one of the aggressive ones, with a voice sharp as wire.

The elderly woman stared at my hand. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said eventually.

She didn’t want me to touch her, I realized. I quickly let go.

“Was there something you wished to say to us, Your Majesty?” the aggressive man said. “It must be important, for you to have come personally.”

“I like to say things for myself. And hear them for myself. I think it’s easier to get the truth that way.” I was still standing in the doorway. I considered walking forward, finding somewhere to sit. But perhaps it was better to stand. To not get too friendly. “I wanted to hear what you had to say. You’re—I know you care about Epria, I know that. And things are changing now, as I’m sure you’ve seen. I wanted to know what you think. About the kingdom. I’ve read the original pamphlet, of course, but—” I ran out of momentum. It hadn’t exactly been the eloquent plea I’d been hoping for.

Again, everyone was silent. The wary still looked wary, the angry still looked angry, and more people looked confused. “What pamphlet, Your Majesty?” the aggressive man said. Like I was trying to trick him into admitting treason.

“Gustav’s Treatise.”

“Never heard of it,” the man grunted.

“Really? It’s been all over the city.”

A round-faced girl near the window spoke up. “Why did you allow it again? I thought it was forbidden.”

I considered her. “I don’t think knowledge can be a bad thing. And banning something doesn’t make it disappear. It just lets people twist it. People a hundred years ago might not have liked it, but I thought it had good ideas, too. The court is wasteful. I don’t agree with radicalism, or with murder. But perhaps if people read his actual words, they might rethink that. It seemed important.”

“So you think people misunderstand him?” the aggressive man sneered.

“I think he’s not as controversial as some people might believe. And I wanted people to know that—I understand.”

“Forgive my rudeness, Your Majesty,” said the man who opened the door, “but I don’t see why you are telling us this.”

This definitely wasn’t what I had imagined. I’d hoped for some reaction. But it would be all right. It was all right. No violence, no danger. I could say my piece, and maybe it would linger here. Have an effect in time.

“I just wanted everyone to know that—anyone involved in attempted murder, or in hurting anybody, will be punished, of course. But others . . . I want new ideas in my kingdom. I want things to be better than they’ve been before. If people want that . . . you’re welcome here. As long as it’s peaceful. And I guess that’s all I came to say. And if you have anything to say to me . . . come to the Fort. I do want to hear.”

Still no reaction. I nodded at them, once, and turned to leave.

“Why?” someone said from the room behind me.

Why? It was a good question. I looked back at them. “Because,” I said. “There’s no point in fighting for the throne if you’re not going to make a difference.”





TWENTY-EIGHT


STEN CONTINUED HIS MARCH. WE HAD THREE DAYS now, just three, before he would arrive at the city gates.

We could be mistaken about his plans, I told myself. He could stop for a few days, head elsewhere to gather more support. But our spies said he was returning, and that was unlikely to change.