“That doesn’t help,” I grumbled. “Not one bit. All that means is that every girl in our kingdoms with hair like mine now needs to watch her back.”
“They were fools to do this,” declared Dorian. “Not just because of the violation of my land, but also because they should’ve known you wouldn’t travel alone. If any one of them had half a brain, they would’ve deduced right away that they had the wrong girl.”
“And yet that changes nothing.” I sighed and turned back to where a worried Pagiel still knelt before me. “Get up,” I told him. “Where is she now? You said she was with a healer. In the Oak Land?”
Pagiel got to his feet. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I should go see her,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
Dorian scoffed. “Oh, yes. That will certainly improve the situation. Go take a jaunt between kingdoms. Expose yourself to more risk.”
My temper flared. “What else do you expect me to—” I bit my lip on any other angry protests as I reminded myself we had an audience. Swallowing back all the things I wanted to say to Dorian, I attempted to put on as calm a look as I could for Pagiel. “I’m very sorry this happened to Ansonia. I can’t promise immediate retribution for it, but I can promise you it won’t ever happen again.”
Pagiel nodded, his face growing fierce once more. “I understand. But if you do strike back at some point—”
“Then you can definitely be part of it,” I finished, guessing what he was going to ask. I didn’t like to encourage revenge, especially in someone so young, but he was certainly entitled to his outrage. “We’ll let you know. In the meantime, go back to Ansonia. If there’s anything she needs, anything at all, just have her ask Dorian’s staff and they’ll take care of it.” I felt no moral qualms about speaking for Dorian, especially since he ordered my own people around half the time too.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Pagiel glanced at Dorian. “Your Majesties. I believe my mother is, uh, already working with the servants to ensure Ansonia is comfortable.”
Oh, I didn’t doubt that in the least. A pang of regret struck me as I recalled that last antagonistic meeting with Ysabel. I’d been semi-sympathetic to her concerns for Pagiel but had mostly treated her as though she was behaving in a hysterical and exaggerated manner. Whatever she was doing now, no one could accuse her of overreacting. Her daughter’s life had been wrongfully threatened.
After a few more conciliatory words from us, Pagiel and the guards who’d entered with him finally left. Once I was alone with Dorian and Roland again, I stood up to walk off my frustration. I paused at the room’s window, looking out at the idyllic green grounds below. The Rowan Land looked more like a fairyland than ever before when seen from afar. One didn’t notice all the danger and turmoil from this high up.
“Don’t beat yourself up, my dear,” said Dorian, watching me pace. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. The question is: what are you going to do now?”
I glanced back at him in alarm. “What are you going to do? You weren’t serious about this being an act of war, were you? I mean, we’re already kind of at war, but there’s no need for some drastic retaliation.”
“There’s need for something drastic,” countered Dorian. “Really, Pagiel’s interruption follows quite nicely on the heels of what we’d just been discussing. They have us running and slinking in the shadows. Are you really going to do this for the rest of your pregnancy? Are you going to do this after your children are born?”
I threw up my hands. “What else is there to do? Are you proposing some invasion of Maiwenn’s land?”
Dorian looked remarkably calm, considering the topic. “It wouldn’t be unfounded. And it would certainly send a message that they can’t keep pushing us around. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that maybe attacking young Ansonia wasn’t a mistake on their part?”
“What would make you say that?” I came back over to stand in front of him. Roland watched our exchange in silence. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Exactly,” said Dorian. “And the next girl attacked won’t either. Or the next.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “You’re saying they’re purposely attacking girls who look like me? Even though they know it’s in error?”
“I’m not saying for sure that’s what they’re doing. But it would be an excellent ploy to turn your—our—own people against us, if they feel they’re being unjustly targeted.”
“Sending our people to war would put a lot more of them in danger,” I pointed out. Five years ago, I never would have dreamed I’d be having these sorts of discussions.
“Yes,” said Dorian. “But danger’s a lot easier to face when you’re initiating it on your terms, as opposed to exposing yourself to victimization.”
“They already went to war once for me. I’m not going to let it happen again,” I said adamantly. Last year, Leith—the former Rowan queen’s son—had taken it upon himself to become the father of Storm King’s heir, whether I consented or not. During my rescue, Dorian had then taken it upon himself to punish Leith—by impaling the prince on a sword. Katrice hadn’t taken that news well, starting a war between us that had eventually led to me inheriting this kingdom. I’d hated every minute of that war and had been wracked with guilt over the thought of soldiers dying for me, no matter how many times I’d been assured that my people were willing to defend my honor.
Dorian’s look wasn’t unsympathetic, but it wasn’t exactly warm and friendly either. “War may be on you again, whether you like it or not.”
“Enough,” I said, raking a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to talk about the nobility of war anymore. Ansonia survived, which is what counts. We’ll deal with the rest later.”
“Don’t put it off too long,” Dorian warned. “Or you may find others making decisions for you.”
“I know,” I said.
What I didn’t add was that I had no intention of letting any more decisions be made without me, nor would I allow any other girls to be hurt on my behalf. An idea was forming in the back of my mind, one I was pretty sure Dorian wouldn’t like. It created a hollow feeling inside me, but from the moment Pagiel had told us about Ansonia, I’d known I had to take drastic action—and not the kind Dorian was suggesting. The answer was so simple, I couldn’t believe it had never occurred to me before. With an expression as convincingly bland as one of Dorian’s, I glanced over at Roland. “Let’s go figure out where my next doctor’s going to be. At least that’s a relatively simple matter.”
Dorian scoffed. “A foolish matter, you mean.” But he made no attempts to go with Roland and me, just as I’d thought. He and Roland did exchange very nice, very polite farewells, which I took as a positive sign, considering their past interactions. I wondered how polite things would stay between them if the plan I was formulating actually came to pass.
“Nasty business back there,” said Roland, speaking up at last. We were almost to the castle’s exit, and I think he felt more at ease now that he was nearly free of the walls. “No easy answers.”
“No,” I agreed.
“How old is this girl you were talking about?”
“A little younger than her brother. That’s Pagiel—the one you just saw.” I didn’t bother correcting for the rate at which gentry aged compared to humans. Roland would understand.
“There’s a dirty feel to all of it,” said Roland. He scowled. “Attacking pregnant women, attacking children. I wish you weren’t involved in any of it.”
We passed through the gates, back toward the lush grounds that had held the wedding. Two guards silently detached from a group near the door and followed me, keeping that respectful distance they excelled at.
“That makes two of us,” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m not just involved—I’m at the heart of it.”
I led us out to a cluster of hazel trees and settled down there on the grass. Roland looked surprised at the choice but quickly joined me. The guards, assessing the situation, chose sentry spots that maintained my privacy but would allow them quick access should a bunch of monkey assassins sent by Maiwenn leap down from the trees. Satisfied the guards were out of earshot, I leaned close to Roland and pitched my voice low, just to be safe. As my hands rested on the sun-warmed grass, I felt the Rowan Land sing to me, happy and content.
“I hate to admit it, but Dorian’s right about a couple of things. It seems crazy, but this could become a regular tactic of Maiwenn’s. And he’s also right that me jumping between kingdoms and worlds just exposes me to further attacks.” I tipped my head back, taking in the scent of honeysuckle. I couldn’t see it from where I sat, but my senses were always attuned to the land’s various stimuli. “I was recently approached by an ambassador from a far-off kingdom, who invited me to come hide out with them. They promised security. Their argument was that I’d be away from my enemies’ lands and could avoid all the crisscrossing if I just stayed in seclusion within their borders.”
Roland’s gray eyebrows rose. “And you’re thinking of doing that?”
“No,” I said. “Certainly not with them, at least. I was thinking ... I was thinking that maybe the place where I really need to hide and stay put is in the human world.” The full weight of it didn’t really hit me until I spoke those words. From Roland’s expression, I could tell that he understood what a huge thing this was that I was suggesting.
“So not in Tucson,” he said, after several thoughtful moments.
“Not in Tucson,” I agreed, not entirely able to hide my regret over that. “It’d be the first place they’d look. But I have to assume that somewhere, in all the safe places you’ve come up with for medical care ... well, somewhere there must be a place where I could hide and live a ‘normal’ life until the twins are born.”
