Kaitlyn Patterson - The Diminished

“Now, tell me. Whom will he marry?”

“His cousin Penelope, though we haven’t made the formal arrangements yet.”

I choked on my kaffe. This was news to me. My heart fluttered. What would Claes say? Did he know? There was no way Penelope would agree to the match, not when I’d spent the last year kissing her twin. Even the Queen had seen me kissing Claes. Never mind the fact that I had no desire to marry her. No desire to marry a woman at all. And why should I? Even as King, the heir to the throne would not necessarily be my heir, but the singleborn I deemed most suited to the role. Runa herself had never married, never had a child. She ruled the empire alone, and while I didn’t entirely understand why she’d chosen me out of all the singleborn, I didn’t think it was purely due to our close line of descent.

When my coughing fit subsided, I looked up to find Mother glaring at me.

“When was this decided?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice level.

Queen Runa laughed, ignoring me. “It’s a good match. She’s smart and will continue your good work with the estate with no great trouble. Poor Oswin would have been destitute without you. Poor man didn’t have a practical bone in his body.” She bit her lip, eyes softening. “My apologies, Myrella. I miss him so, as I’m sure you do.”

Mother nodded. “It has been exceedingly difficult, but we’ve made do.”

“The Suzerain think we should see Ambrose married within the next two years, and for once, I don’t disagree. It will lend him more weight with the nobility if they know he has a strong partner.”

I sputtered, “Excuse me?”

They ignored me.

“And the other matter?” Mother asked.

A muscle in the Queen’s jaw twitched. “Still safely in the hands of the temple. Magritte’s wisdom keep her.”

“Magritte keep who?” I blurted, knowing as soon as the question left my lips that I should’ve kept quiet.

There was no point in asking questions that wouldn’t be answered. It seemed like they were intentionally speaking in riddles, throwing out one incomprehensible statement after another in order to infuriate me. It wasn’t as though they didn’t know better. It wasn’t as though they weren’t the ones who’d taught me my manners, and here they were. Acting like I wasn’t even here.

The Queen waved her hand dismissively and shot Mother a look cold enough to freeze mulled wine. “No one you need ever worry about. Now, before you leave, I’ll have a chat with the tutors about the topics they’ll need to cover in Ambrose’s and Penelope’s curriculum. We’ll correspond soon about announcing the engagement and planning the wedding. Meanwhile, he should spend more time at court, and Penelope will be able to assist you in running the estate.”

The music died away in the great room. My mind raced, trying to process the last few minutes of conversation.

Queen Runa lumbered to her feet and replaced the crown on her head. “Time for toasts. Come along.” When she got to the door, she turned sharply. “You do have someone tasting for him, don’t you, Myrella?”

I looked at my mother, one eyebrow raised. My valet, Gunnar, was ostensibly my taster, but I rarely bothered with the pretense at home. It didn’t seem necessary.

“Of course,” Mother said.

At the same time, I replied, “Sort of.”

The Queen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. “Not a drop, not a crumb passes his lips before a taster has sampled it. Not. A. Crumb. I will not lose my heir to something so easily preventable. Not after everything I’ve done to secure his place. Do you hear me?”

Mother bowed, her knees nearly dropping to the polished marble floor. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

They swept out of the chamber together, leaving me to wonder what, exactly, the Queen had contrived to make me the heir to the Alskad throne.

PART TWO

“The knotted, tangled cord that stretches between twins serves as both lifeline and tether. Your twin exists to be your counterweight, to balance you as you balance her.”

—from the Book of Rayleane, the Builder

“When my earth was rent apart by the mothers and fathers who came before, Dzallie spilled her fiery fury upon my land, already so broken by the shards of the moon. Steward this second chance well. Use and care well for my gifts, for you will find no mercy in my arms again.”

—from the Book of Tueber, the Earthbound

CHAPTER SEVEN

VI

A single day was not enough time for me to find my balance after my whole world had turned upside down. The anchorites tasked Curlin—her shaved head, seemingly ever-multiplying tattoos and newfound piety still startling, even after all this time—to be my shadow in the hours before I was to board the ship at dawn. I didn’t like to think about how they’d managed to get a captain to agree to give me passage, or what that would mean for me on the journey ahead, so instead, I focused my ire on Curlin.

I suppose the anchorites thought I might’ve tried to run, despite the fortune they’d taken from me and I from the sea. I might’ve, too—the weight of the secret pearls in the pouch around my neck whispered to me of escape, but I knew all too well how far the temple’s reach extended. How far the Suzerain could see. There was nowhere I could hide if they wanted to find me. My stash would have to go with me to Ilor.

Curlin shifted from one foot to the other in the doorway of my bedroom, her arms crossed over her chest. The new tattoo on her knuckles was red and tender-looking. Yet despite the vast chasm that’d opened between us since she’d joined the Shriven, I could still read Curlin’s face as easy as any book.

“Dzallie’s eyebrows, Curlin. Come in or don’t, but stop looming there like an ass. We’re alone now.”

Curlin made a sour face, but came in and sat on my bed. Her eyes avoided the side of the room that’d once been hers. I shoved my spare set of clothes and the few small bits and trinkets I’d collected during my childhood into an ancient bag and sat back on my heels, glaring.

“Now what?” I asked. A long day and a longer night stretched ahead of us, and I’d nothing else to occupy my time until I left to board the ship that would take me to Ilor. There was no one who’d care to hear my goodbyes, no one who’d care that I was gone. The only person in the world who’d ever given me a second thought was on the other side of the ocean.

My heart beat a little faster at the possibility of seeing Sawny again. I wouldn’t hate seeing Lily, either, though I could only imagine the look on her face. She’d thought herself rid of me, after all.

Curlin’s dark blue eyes searched my face. “There’s still time, you know.”

“Time for what?” I asked.

“Time to change your mind, idiot,” Curlin snapped. “They’d still take you. It’s not so bad. Better, at least, than what you’re walking into. Do you really want to spend the rest of your short life hauling stones until your fingers bleed or your back breaks? You’ll never make it twenty-five years. I bet you’ll hardly last one.”

I ran my hands through my still-damp hair, working out the snarls and doing my damnedest to stay calm. “Do you have no recollection at all of the promise we made?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“I’d rather die than break it,” I said, cutting her off. “I would rather die than turn into a monster like them. Like you.”

Curlin’s brows furrowed, and she set her jaw. I’d gotten under her skin. I couldn’t help but dig a little deeper.

“At least in Ilor, I’ll be near Sawny. Near someone whose word actually means something.”

“Actually,” Curlin said slyly, her voice taking on a cruel, musical edge, “you won’t. They’re sending you to the far side of the islands. They know the kind of trouble you two get into together. They’d never chance letting you see Sawny again. You don’t deserve a reward like that after what you did.”