Greg Keyes: The Born Queen

Don’t you? he wanted to ask. She had spent months in the dungeons, just as he had. And just as he had, she had heard—

No. He didn’t want to remember.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to remind you. I just—I wonder what you will do when winter comes.”

He shrugged. “It’s not here yet, and I can’t stop it coming. We’ll see.”

She smiled, but he felt it turn in him.

“Maybe I can write a bright music.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve ruined your nap.”

You have, he thought, his bitterness growing. And why carp about winter?

“Still,” she went on, her tone changing, “all you do is nap, it seems.”

He sat up, feeling his breath begin to fire. “How do you—”

And then a bee stung him. The pain was very simple, very direct, and he found himself on his feet howling, swatting at the air, which was alive with the swarming insects.

He understood now. The pain of the sting had wakened his sense.

“Mery,” he shouted, striding toward the girl where she sat with her little thaurnharp.

“Mery, quit that.”

But she kept playing until Leoff reached down and stopped her hands. They felt cold.

“Mery, it’s hurting us.”

She didn’t look up at first but continued to study the keyboard.

“It doesn’t hurt me,” she said.

“I know,” he said softly.

She looked up then, and his chest tightened.

Mery was a slight girl; she looked younger than her eight winters. From a distance she might be five or six.

But she wasn’t at a distance now. Her eyes had been azure when they had met. They were still blue, but they seemed filmed over somehow, sometimes vacant, sometimes sharp with subtle pain a child her age should not know. Up close, Mery might be a hundred.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What were you trying to do there?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He knelt and stroked her hair.

“Robert won’t find us again.”

“He took it with him,” Mery said, her voice just audible. “He tricked you into writing it, and he took it with him.”

“It’s all right,” Leoff said.

“It’s not,” Mery replied. “It’s not. When he plays it, I can hear it.”

The hairs went up on Leoff’s neck. “What?”

“He doesn’t play it well,” she whispered. “But now he has someone else to do it. I can hear it.” Leoff glanced over at Areana. She hadn’t said anything, but tears were running quietly down her face. “I thought you would fix it,” Mery said. “Now I see you can’t.”

“Mery…”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I understand.”

She lifted the thaurnharp off her lap, took it by its carry strap, and stood up.

“I’ll play someplace else,” she said.

“Mery, please don’t go,” Areana said.

But the girl already was trudging off.

Leoff watched her leave and sighed. “She expects me to do something,” he said.

“She expects too much,” she said.

He shook his head. “We were there, but she played it. I used her—”

“To save our lives,” his wife gently reminded him.

“I’m not sure I saved hers,” he said. “I thought she would get better, but she’s slipping away, Rey. It’s worse every day.”

She nodded. “Yah.”

“I should go after her.”

“She wants to be alone right now,” Areana said. “I think you’d better let her. She was a solitary sort of person even before.”

“Yes.”

“Stay here. Rest. I need to go to the market to gather a few things for dinner. I’ll see if I can find something Mery might like. A ribbon or some drop. ”

Ribbons and candy won’t help, he thought, but he smiled and gave her a kiss.

“I am a lucky man,” he managed.

“We all are lucky,” Areana said. “Even Mery. We have each other.”

“I’m not certain about that,” Leoff said.

Areana frowned. “What can you mean?”

“I had a letter yesterday from Lord Edwin Graham. Mery’s mother was his sister.”

“They mean to take her away? But the duke put her in our charge.”

“I’m not sure what he wants,” Leoff replied. “He’s sending his wife here to tell us. She’ll arrive on Thonsdagh.”

Lady Teris Graham was tall, taller than Leoff. She had unsettling sea-green eyes and a face spotted by rusty freckles, which made her dark, nearly black hair somehow surprising. Her face was strong-boned and long like her body, and she had come in a dark green and black traveling gown that looked expensive. She had two servants and two bodyguards with her, which also spoke of money. She was younger than he had expected. Areana had seated her in their small parlor, which up until then they really hadn’t used for anything. Then she went for tea while the lady sized up Leoff.

“You’re the man that wrote that sinfonia?” she said at last. “The one that started the riot in Glastir?” “Yes,” Leoff confirmed. “I’m afraid so.”

“And the other thing, the play that the people liked so well?” The way she said “people” made it clear that it wasn’t a term that included everyone—not, for instance, herself.

“Yes, lady.”

“Yes,” she repeated drily.

Areana arrived with the tea, and they sat sipping it in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. “How well did you know my sister-in-law?” Lady Graham asked abruptly.

Leoff practically could feel Areana stiffen and a warmth flush his face.

To his surprise, the lady laughed. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Yes, Ambria was a generous soul in some ways.”

Leoff nodded, not knowing what to say, his mind suddenly filled with the sensations of that night, the warmth of Ambria’s skin…

And, a few days later, her pitiful murdered gaze.

“Not to the point,” Lady Graham said, shrugging. “The thing now is what’s to be done with Mery.” “I think she should stay with us,” Leoff said.

“Personally, I’m inclined to agree with you,” the lady said. “I’ve no use for another brat underfoot. It’s bad enough taking her brother in, but we’ll soon have him married off. Still, she is William’s bastard, and she is family, so my husband has other thoughts on the matter.”

“She’s safe here,” Areana said. “And she’s still heir.”

“And you will be her parents?”

“Yes,” Leoff said.

“In fact, perhaps. But technically, hasn’t Duke Artwair made her his ward?”

“That’s true,” Leoff said.

“One would imagine Artwair would have reason for doing that. And for giving you this lovely house on the grounds of his even more lovely estate.”

“My husband and the duke are friends,” Areana said. “The house was a wedding gift.”

“I’m sure it was,” Lady Graham sighed. “But he’s also keeping her close.” She looked up sharply. “What’s wrong with the girl, by the by? I’ve heard some very strange stories. Something about a music that kills?”

Leoff pursed his lips. The story had gotten around, somehow, but he didn’t know if he should confirm it. “They say that Prince Robert forced you to write a melody that slays anyone who hears it, and that Mery played it and did not die,” she amplified.

When he didn’t react to that, she sighed and signaled for her maidservant, who produced a folded paper sealed with wax.

He took the proffered document and found Artwair’s seal on it. He broke it and read the contents. Dear Friend, feel free to relate any and all particulars concerning Mery to Lady Teris Graham. She deserves to know the facts of the matter, and I trust her to be discreet.

—A.

Leoff looked up, feeling abashed. “Sorry, lady,” he said.