Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3)(69)

“No, it is her. I have seen her myself in the visions. One green eye and one blue, with a mountain cat in her shadow. Some have said that, when she ascends the throne, her blue eye will darken to black, but that is just nonsense.”

“It is nonsense that she may be queen at all when she is not a queen. When she will bear no triplets.” Katharine drains her wine and pours more. She herself may bear no triplets, and the thought makes the hen in her mouth taste like wood.

Theodora shrugs. “The prophecy says, ‘once a queen and may be a queen again.’ It’s never easy to interpret. But the people believe. She is a naturalist and she is war gifted. And both of her gifts are as strong as a queen’s.”

“How?” Katharine asks. “How is she as strong as a queen when she is legion cursed? Why is she not mad?”

The oracle looks at her seriously. Then she erupts into peals of laughter. It is uneven, this poison. And Katharine has no idea how long it will last.

“But you are a pretty girl,” Theodora says, and cackles. “And you are sweet and kind and have given me a comfortable room. You speak of the gifts with equal reverence.” Her left eye narrows. “Did you really buy the High Priestess with a council seat?”

Katharine pushes the custard bowl forward. “Take some dessert to ease the wine in your stomach. I think you have had too much.”

“Yes, yes.” Theodora swallows a large spoonful. “Forgive me.”

“Why do the people seek to overthrow me?”

“They fear that you are wrong. That you were never meant to rule.”

“But Juillenne Milone was?”

“Perhaps anyone is better than a poisoner.”

“And if she goes mad? Can you foresee that, whether she will lose her mind?”

Theodora puts her elbow on the table. She is beginning to look tired. Her head hangs. It seems harder for her to swallow even the custard.

“I can’t see that. But the low magic will hold. Her mother bound it, you see. In blood. So the curse is held in check and both gifts are allowed to flourish.”

Katharine leans back. She has seen this mother before. In Wolf Spring during the Midsummer Festival. She stood by the water as they released the garlands into the harbor, before Katharine issued the challenge of the Queens’ Hunt. Madrigal Milone, her name was. Very young to be mother to a daughter of sixteen years. Very pretty to be a mother to a girl as plain as Jules.

“If the mother dies, will the curse come to fullness?”

The oracle opens her eyes wide.

“None can say. No one with the legion curse has ever lived so long unharmed by it. Some wish for the binding to be cut. Some say it will make her even stronger.”

“Where is Jules Milone now?” Katharine asks, but Theodora shakes her head. Perhaps she truly does not know. Or perhaps even Natalia’s poisons have limits. “Where is her mother?”

Theodora’s eyes lose focus, and her face goes slack, a glimpse of the true sight gift at work. “If you go now, you will catch her in the mountains, riding south toward Wolf Spring.” The vision ends, and Theodora blinks as though confused.

Katharine calls out over her shoulder, and a servant opens the door. “Go to the Black Council. Tell them to send our fastest messengers and best hunters toward the mountains with a bounty on Madrigal Milone’s head. A nice, fat bounty if she is brought to me alive.”

When the servant is gone, Katharine faces Theodora, whose eyes swim circles. The poison has begun its final, grotesque turn, inducing highs and lows, grins and terror. “Is there anything else you can tell me? About the mist? Why does it rise? Why has it turned on its own island?”

The oracle looks down and listens. She presses her hands to her temples and leaves behind smears of custard. “The Blue Queen has come. The Blue Queen! Queen Illiann!”

“Why?” Katharine asks. “What does she want?” But the oracle can say no more. She only weeps and shrieks. The poison has become a spectacle, and Katharine pours them both more wine. “Take a sip,” she says gently.

“I do not think I can.”

“You can.” Katharine takes up the cup. She moves to sit beside Theodora and helps her to hold it, pressing her hands over the woman’s cold fingers. “It will make it easier.”

“You did this,” Theodora says. Then she gasps, twisting with laughter that is like the bray of a mule.

Katharine holds her shoulders tightly. “I did this. So I will stay and talk with you until it is finished.”





THE REBELLION





THE MAINLAND




It takes Arsinoe longer than she would like to gather the money she needs to hire a ship to the island. But finally, the day has come. After squirreling away coins earned by donning a cap and acting as a delivery person and twice being tempted to swipe just one of Mrs. Chatworth’s brooches to sell, she stands alone before the harbor and prepares to board a boat. No Mirabella this time and no Billy. They will be safer here.

“And I won’t be gone long,” she whispers, and clenches the coin in her fist.

On the docks, she slips through the workers, looking for some idle captain. The day is busy, the port full of too many men, and not a woman to be seen. She keeps her head down and cap low, but at least she is not in Daphne’s time and does not have to worry about the superstition of having a girl on board. She stuffs her money deep in her pocket and walks past the slips. It does not need to be a great boat. Or even a large boat. This time, she is not trying to fight her way out of the mist. Any available captain and crew who are willing to sail in whatever direction she chooses will do.