Long May She Reign(88)

“Everything,” I choked out. “Everything.” I pushed myself into a sitting position. Madeleine sank onto the mattress beside me, and Dagny hopped up, kneading my legs, still meowing sadly. I reached down to stroke her behind the ears.

“What has happened?”

“Madeleine—” I closed my eyes, the words stuck in my throat. “It was Fitzroy. I think it was Fitzroy. He lied to me. His father was going to exile him, and—and I don’t know what to think, but I had to lock him up, I had to, and I don’t know what I’m doing—”

“Shhh.” Madeleine wrapped an arm around me, running her fingers through my hair. “Shh, it’ll be all right, Freya.”

“But it won’t. I trusted him, and now . . .”

“Do you absolutely know that it was him?” she said softly. “It seems so unlike him.”

“I don’t know for sure. But he’s been lying. He hid the evidence from us. He took letters from my lab and hid them.”

“What’s going on?” Naomi had appeared in the doorway, blinking sleep from her eyes. “Freya, are you all right?”

I shook my head. Naomi didn’t ask any more questions. She walked over and sank onto the mattress beside us, a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll figure it out,” Madeleine said. “And even if he’s guilty . . . I’ve known him for so long, Freya. He’s one of the few people left from—from before. He must have thought he had good reasons. Maybe it’s better to show mercy.”

“Good reasons? How can there be a good reason to kill that many people? And with Sten attacking, if I’m going to convince him to stop, I have to—I won’t be able to be merciful. Sten wouldn’t ever let me. I just—he can’t have done it. I can’t believe he would have done.”

“No,” Madeleine said. “No, no one would want to believe that of anyone they knew.”

“What am I going to do? I’m going to have to explain why he’s gone, and then people will be out for his blood. But I couldn’t let him stay free, I couldn’t.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Naomi said. “I know you will.”

“I just—I’ve made so many mistakes, and now I’m locking away my friends, and I can’t—”

“Freya.” Madeleine shifted on the mattress so we were facing each other. “You are a good queen. Trust me. I know royalty. I’ve known the court my whole life. And you are a good queen. You will do well. You are doing well. Just believe that you can do it. Believe in your strengths.”

“But how?”

“You’ve survived this far, haven’t you?”

I snuggled back against her shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

“You’d be fantastic,” Madeleine said. “Just maybe a bit less fabulous.”

I laughed.





TWENTY-NINE


“YOU ARRESTED FITZROY?”

Holt leaned forward over the table, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and disbelief.

“Yes,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “It needed to be done.”

“I am sorry it had to come to this,” Holt said. “But he was too much of a threat.”

“No,” I said. “This has nothing to do with what you said before. But I found evidence that—I know he’s been lying to me. And his father—he wanted to send him away. Fitzroy has the motive, he’s acted suspiciously. I had to.”

“A wise choice,” Holt said. “I had suspected him, as I tried to warn you—”

“Yes,” I snapped, all my exhaustion, the hours of crying, bursting out of me. He could act as wise and superior as he liked, but I still couldn’t be sure he wasn’t involved, somehow. He’d still been suspicious. How dare he act like his good judgment had predicted this? “I know what you suspected. You’ve been against Fitzroy from the beginning, for no reason. You were determined to think he was guilty, or to deal with him if he wasn’t. Why? Because his mother wasn’t the queen?”

“I only thought—Your Majesty, I wanted what was best for you. I only wished to protect you.”

“And did you find any evidence against him? Anything, beyond the fact that his father wanted to send him away?”

“Not as such, Your Majesty, but it was suspicious, and—”

“Suspicious? If we’re condemning people for acting suspiciously, why don’t you tell me why you were in the palace a few nights ago? What did you take from the chapel?”

Silence. Holt stared at me. “Your Majesty?”

“I saw you. I was there, investigating the murders, and I saw you carrying treasure away. Sneaking into the place where everyone died is suspicious, don’t you think? Do you think I should arrest and execute you for that, without any actual evidence?”

“Rasmus?” Norling said. “What is this?”

“I was in the palace, Your Majesty,” Holt said slowly. “But I was helping you. That shrine was an insult to the Forgotten, and we need gold if we’re to have even a chance of fighting Sten. They would want it to be used to support you.”

I could believe it. I wanted to hate him, wanted all the blame for the murders to fall on him, but that, at least, I believed to be true. “Perhaps,” I said. “I am simply saying—” I pressed my fingers into my eyes. The strain of the night was too much. I didn’t want to think that Holt had been right after all. He had still been prejudiced, misguided. He had. “We should not act too harshly before we know the whole truth. I appreciate that you want to protect me. Especially—considering the circumstances. But your job is to advise me. Whether I take your advice or not is up to me.” I sighed. “We’re not going to do anything, for now. We won’t tell anyone. Not until we have more evidence, one way or the other.”