The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(49)

Maia could almost feel his desperation for glory. That would lead to foolish decisions. Her trust would be earned, not taken for granted.

“I have heard you,” Maia said, staring into his eyes. She shook her head, using that gesture to begin communicating the news that would disappoint him. “Comoros is a vast city, split by a river. Losing control of it would be disastrous. These are my instructions. Dodd—bring as many forces as you can and march them quickly to Comoros. If you raise your banners, you may draw some of Schuyler’s soldiers away. Do not engage with his army. Lord Mayor, prepare to defend the city. Have your watchmen trained and keep them sober, my lord. Will a curfew help you maintain order?”

Justin beamed. “It would indeed. With your permission?”

“You have it.” She turned to her chancellor. “Richard, see that the order is written and affix it with the seal granting authority.” It was only then that she turned back to the Earl of Caspur. “Bring your army to Comoros to defend us. You have the largest force and the most experience in battle. Some of the vigor being used to challenge us may wane in time. It will give us more options if we force Schuyler to react to us rather than reacting to him. Do not engage his army, my lord. Bring your army here.”

His jaw quivered with disappointed rage, but though his eyes burned with enmity, he gave her a curt nod and made no comment.

“Go make your preparations,” Maia said. “Report back to the chancellor regularly. Keep him informed of your progress.”

She dismissed the council.





The rest of the day was long and wearisome. Being a queen, Maia discovered, was replete with commitments and obligations. It seemed every person in the realm wanted to see her, speak with her, implore her for a position or a favor. Thankfully, her chancellor controlled access to her during the formal times of the day. Only in rare moments could he travel back to Augustin to see his wife and assist her with her duties in the abbey, and Maia hurt for them, knowing the separation was painful.

Suzenne served the same gate-keeping function during Maia’s private hours. The two were enjoying an elaborate meal in Maia’s private chambers. Her other ladies-in-waiting, including Jayn Sexton, were also there, helping to arrange an assortment of gowns, traveling clothes, blankets, and household items that she had found herself owning without knowing how. Many of the pieces, she learned, had belonged to her mother before being usurped by Lady Deorwynn. After Suzenne, Maia was closest to Jayn and appreciated her quiet ways and thoughtfulness.

Maia’s appetite had waned with the threat of rebellion, but the soup was good, and she nibbled on the loaf of trencher bread.

“I miss the Aldermaston’s kitchen at Muirwood,” Maia said to Suzenne.

Her friend smiled and nodded in agreement. One of the other girls had picked up a lute and had begun plucking simple chords from it—the sound a lovely accompaniment to their meal.

“What did you think of the council meeting this morning?” Maia asked.

Suzenne fidgeted with her spoon. “Caspur looked quite . . . displeased, but I do not know what else you could have done. He seemed determined to get his way. I am glad you did not give in. He made it very uncomfortable, though.”

“He did,” Maia agreed. “It will take time before the council acts in harmony. I confess, it is difficult to discern the motives of every person. Caspur means well, I think, but he is very ambitious. His need for glory clouds his judgment.”

She continued to eat the soup. A dish of spiced fish was nearby, and she plucked a few flaky crumbs from it with her fingers. The cooks always insisted on bringing her a variety of dishes and had tried to learn about her favorites. She had admitted to a fondness for Pry-rian cooking, which had upset the head cook very much. She sighed aloud. It was just too difficult to attempt pleasing everyone.

There was a short knock at the door, and Suzenne sighed and pushed away from the table to answer it. Maia did not feel like seeing visitors. In truth, she yearned to don a simple disguise so she could leave the palace grounds to visit the people and learn firsthand about their troubles and the mood—much as her own husband did on occasion in his own kingdom. She did not want to rely solely on the lord mayor’s telling. Suzenne’s expression changed quickly, and she turned aside to admit Sabine and Simon Fox.

Smiling eagerly, Maia rose to greet them and rushed to embrace her grandmother. “Have you eaten yet?” Maia asked her. “We have more than enough. Come share with us.”

Sabine smiled and patted her back. “I had a meal already, but thank you. If we could speak privately?”

Suzenne nodded and quickly dismissed the ladies-in-waiting, who left the chamber from a back exit without even a murmur. Jayn Sexton paused in the doorway, looking back to see if Suzenne would join her, but Sabine gestured for her to stay. When her private chamber was private once more, Maia gave her grandmother a worried look. “What is it?”

Sabine’s expression was thoughtful, pensive. “I know about your troubles, Maia. I have heard about the rebellion. But I must leave Comoros again almost as quickly as I have arrived.”

Maia’s heart sank. “I know I should not strive to keep you here longer,” she said, taking her grandmother’s hands and squeezing them tenderly. “But it pains me to be apart from you. You are my only Family. Where must you go next?”

Sabine shook her head sadly. “I still have duties to perform, dear one. I must continue to open the Apse Veils throughout the realms. I have already opened one each in Avinion and Mon. I go to Dahomey next and then Paeiz.” She glanced at Simon. “There is troubling news, Maia. I must go to Hautland as well.”