The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(70)

“I’ll come back, then. If anyone asks, I’m guarding you from him.” He pointed an elbow at the wardrobe. “I answer directly to King Tobiah. Why would I entrust another to guard your door? Imagine the consequences I’d face if foreign royalty were harmed under my watch!”

The hardness in my neck and shoulders eased. “Thank you.”

When he left, I changed into loose trousers and a soft shirt, and pulled a heavy wool dressing gown over everything. As I slid my travel boots under the bed, the toes hit something. I knelt and reached under the bed, and out came the bag of Black Knife clothes and weapons.

I pushed it back under.

Only two people might have put the bag there, and I doubted James would act without Tobiah’s permission. But what did that mean? I wasn’t ready to guess.

I kept my daggers within reach as I sat at the desk to read the Ospreys’ letters in my notebook.

They hadn’t managed to get into trouble—yet—but it was only a matter of time before Carl’s pockets were heavy with other people’s valuables, and Connor was nursing stray kittens back to health, and Theresa and Kevin were caught eavesdropping on important political discussions.

The letters made me smile, and it was late when I finished reading—and I was tired—but I took my time choosing a handwriting and ink. Not that there was much ink to choose from on this journey, but I wanted to feel normal for once, even when I was warning my friends to keep their eyes open.

James came back into the wagon with a bedroll under one arm, and took the desk when I was finished. One at a time, I doused all the lanterns but the one above where he wrote to Tobiah, and then I climbed into bed. A few minutes later, he spread out his roll in front of the door, and we both fell asleep to the sound of the wraith boy humming.





TWENTY-FOUR


THE CONVOY TRAVELED southeast across the Indigo Kingdom, away from the piedmont and closer to the sea. Soldiers had to ride ahead and melt the icy layers covering the tracks. Even so, I could sometimes feel the wheels slip and the horses stumble with the shifting load.

The weather meant James and I stayed in the wagon most of the time, reading, writing, and listening to the wraith boy hum new and haunting tunes.

“I want to tell you something.” I closed my diary, my hand resting on the worn black cover. It was nearly full, and ragged after years of use. The letters Tobiah had written to me were folded neatly in the back, held in with a silk band.

“That would be nice.” James wrote one last line in his book to Tobiah and faced me, an odd mix of tension and ease in his expression and posture. News from Skyvale was never good anymore. “What is it?”

“I’ve been reading through this today.” I tapped my notebook against my knees. “I started keeping it when I was nine, and I’d just agreed with Patrick that we should reclaim Aecor. That I should take the vermilion throne when we were old enough to make a stand.”

James just nodded.

“I’ve spent every day since then trying to make that girl’s dream a reality. She wanted to do what she thought her parents would want: retake the kingdom. But they’re gone now, and I’ll never know more about them than what I remember. The truth is, I don’t know what they’d have wanted for me.”

“Maybe their belongings are still in the castle. Diaries? Records? Letters?”

“I doubt Prince Colin would have left those around during his years as overlord. No, I’m certain all their records are gone. And that’s all right.” I held up my journal. “What I’m saying is, I don’t know if this girl exists anymore. Her world was red against blue. Us against you. But so much has changed.”

James leaned forward.

“Everything I’ve done has been to get back my kingdom. It was all accomplished Patrick’s way, though. Since parting with him, I’ve tried to change and take actions that would have made my parents truly proud. But what good is going to war with the Indigo Kingdom, or fighting with Prince Colin to reclaim it? The wraith is so close. There are only a handful of kingdoms left.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not the girl who started this diary anymore. What if Tobiah was right? What if I wouldn’t be a good queen?”

“Did he tell you that you would be a poor queen?” James’s eyebrows pulled in with a frown.

“He may as well have.” I placed my notebook on the bed and stood, stretching my legs.

James gave me a moment. “Do you want to be queen?”

I stood before the mirror. In the week following the wedding, my cheeks had hollowed and circles darkened the spaces under my eyes. I didn’t look very much like the queen Meredith would have been: strong, kind, lovely. “It doesn’t matter what I want anymore. What I want only gets me into trouble.”

Was it possible to stop desiring?

From the wardrobe, the wraith boy chuckled.

I spun and ripped open the doors. A different, darker reflection stared back at me. Then he drew back, pressing himself against the side wall. His chest heaved, like he’d nearly been trapped in the glass forever.

“What?” I growled.

“Do you hear that sound?” Still flat against the side wall, he twisted his head to look westward. “There are drums. Shouts. They came across the sea.”

I glanced at James. “The wagon has stopped moving.” Without precautions, that was dangerous in this weather. The wheels could freeze to the tracks.