“Come on,” the queen said, placing Tusken on her other hip. “Your da will want to hear the new song you learned. Let’s go see if we can hunt him down.”
“Dada hiding?” asked Tusken.
“In a crowd of ministers, no doubt. We’ll save him. Thank you, Rin.”
“You’re welcome, Your Majesty,” Rin said, imitating the warm, low cadence of the queen’s voice. It felt nice.
The queen paused at the door. “I knew your brother before I was a queen. He was, and remains, a friend truer than sun in summer. I like that he calls me Isi. I know all the ‘your majesties’ people ply me with are out of respect for the crown and I should take my due. But when we’re alone, Rin, I’d like it if you’d call me Isi, too.”
Rin tried the words. “Thank you, Isi.”
Rin stared at Isi’s back as she left the room. A chill in her blood spoke of fright, though she was more curious, the kind of curious that thrilled and stung. While she’d been with Isi, the constant squeezing in her chest had eased some. For the first time in months, maybe years, she had not felt like a stranger.
That’s who I want to be
, Rin thought.
If I had to be someone forever,
I’d choose her. There’s something different. There’s something about
our queen . . .
Not that she wanted to be queen of Bayern, she told herself. She just wanted to feel like that, to move through each moment as easily as a fish through clear water. She wanted to see good everywhere, as she imagined Isi did, to have confidence in her shoulders and truth in her face. She wanted not to be the girl who had to trick Wilem for a kiss, who fled toward the deep Forest, who ran from home.
She’d heard rumors that the queen was friends with the wind, though she did not understand what that meant. Razo had never said much about her, but perhaps Razo did not notice Isi the way Rin did because he had no need to. He was at home in forest or city, cottage or palace, Bayern or Tira. When he left the Forest, he’d been moving toward something good, not running away like Rin was.
For the next two weeks, Isi made certain there were two soldiers flanking Rin and Tusken on their bug-hunting adventures. Cilie was released from waiting woman duties and sent to report to the chief steward as a maid, but occasionally when Rin looked up from where Tusken had discovered an impressive beetle or a stone shaped like a chair, she would notice Cilie in the distance, watching.
I
si! Isi! Rin, is she in her rooms?” Enna, a black-haired woman of twenty years swooped into the queen’s antechamber, her arms loaded with bolts I of silk in red, yellow, and blue. Finn remained on the threshold, one hand on his sword hilt, as if expecting someone to burst in and threaten Enna’s life.
Rin sat up straighter, energy rushing into her limbs. She’d known Enna for years as a fellow Forest girl and loved reflecting her manner. It made her feel strong and significant—though it was tricky too, since Enna tended to toss out demands as easily as hellos.
“She’s out,” Rin said. “Caught in a net of meetings, I’d guess.”
“The poor thing. I’ll stick around. She’s bound to be back soon if Tusken’s here.” Enna plopped into one of the cushioned chairs and put up her feet. “I swear, this entire palace is teetering on the edge of insanity. And, Rin, you’re one of the only ones around with any sense. How do you feel about that?”
Enna gave dark looks to the queen’s other waiting women darning hems in the corner. The waiting women returned quiet glares.
Enna sighed, arranging the bolts of cloth on her lap with a look that begged inquiry, so Rin asked, “What’s all the fabric for?”
“My gown. I refuse to get married in drab white, of all the ridiculous colors for a wedding day. The thread-mistress wants to make my wedding gown, ‘And now, and in a hurry,’ says she, ‘so pick your fabric if you want to be married this summer, or if you dawdle I’ll tell you quick as my tongue can fly that you won’t be getting your dress in time and then that moon-eyed young man of yours,’ (that’s what she called you, Finn) ‘that moon-eyed young man of yours won’t get his wedding and he’ll come blame me. But I’ll tell him sure as I’m telling you how can I make a dress without the fabric? I ask you, how?’ And on and on she goes as if I had all day to listen. I tell you, some people don’t know when to just snap it shut.”
Enna looked over her shoulder at Finn as if for his opinion, and he smiled at her, and they smiled at each other in silence for so long that when Enna looked back to Rin again, she had a dazed expression as if she’d just woken up.
“What was I saying?” asked Enna.
“Snap it shut,” said Rin.
Enna’s eyes widened.
“Oh!” Rin laughed, her face burning. How easy it was to say such things around Enna. She needed to be more careful. “I meant . . . not you, I meant that was the last thing you said.”
“Oh. Right. You have a good memory. Well, I need Isi’s opinion, of course. What do I know about fabric for gowns and weddings in palaces and such? I’m still not sure this big hullabaloo in the city is the best idea anyway.”
Finn’s smile deepened. Apparently he knew, as Rin suspected, that Enna did indeed prefer a big city hullabaloo of a wedding to a quiet Forest party.
Razo popped his head around the door and exhaled when he took stock of the room’s occupants.
“Here you are. I went looking for you two down in the thread-mistress’s chamber, and when I asked her where you were . . .” Razo blew out his cheeks.
“Say no more,” said Enna.
“Sure enough, that woman had enough to say for all of us. Hello, Rinna-girl.” Razo knocked her with his shoulder. “I never get used to you in these prettified clothes.”
Rin smoothed the blue light wool tunic over her skirt, feeling the prick of sweat on her skin underneath. She’d sneaked out earlier in her old Forest clothes to run off the raw panic that was creeping over her again, and had thrown on the fine clothes only moments before Enna arrived.
Razo poked at her skirt with one finger, as if it were an animal only feigning death. “Almost want to call you some other name . . . I’ll have to think on that. Rinna-lady, maybe? Naw, you don’t have the lady look.”
“Razo . . . ,” Enna said, scolding in her voice.
Rin tried to echo Enna’s chastising stare.
“What? It was a compliment! Rin doesn’t want to look like a lady, do you? Can’t climb a tree in a fancy skirt. And I can’t imagine you at home in any place where there aren’t a thousand trees to climb at a moment’s notice.”
It was an innocent comment, but he’d unknowingly struck her right in her pain. Rin felt a frown dig into her forehead before she turned and pretended busyness with Tusken.
“Rin,” Enna said, her voice concerned, “now what’s—”
Before Enna could finish, Isi swept in, picking Tusken off the floor and sitting with him beside Enna.
“What a morning,” she said, kissing her son’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Enna. Great crows, but what a morning. Hello, Rin, thanks for watching my boy. Was he good?”
“Always,” Rin said.
“Always,” Isi repeated. She buried her face into his neck, making eating noises, while the little boy laughed his rough, gravelly laugh. Isi was still smiling at Tusken when she said, “Bad news from the east.”
“Ugh.” Enna covered her head with a bolt of yellow silk.
“I know, I’m sorry, Enna, Finn. It does look as if the wedding will have to be postponed. But hopefully just for a week. Finn, Geric needs you.”
Finn had been sitting on the edge of a table by Enna, one hand on her knee, but now he stood, half-turned to the door, ready to go at command. “What’s happening?”
“Oh, probably nothing serious,” said Isi. “But after Tira and the war and everything, the ministers clamor to respond quickly to any hostility. A village near our border with Kel was attacked. It could be bandits—though I thought we’d rooted out all the serious banditry that erupted after the war. It could just be a bad tavern quarrel, for all I know. The message was oddly unclear.”
“Come on, Isi,” Enna said. “You’re not going to cancel my wedding for a tavern brawl? Just send one of those those overeager cousins Geric seems to have by the dozens.”
“The fact that it’s near Kel . . .” Isi glanced at her waiting women, and Rin wondered if she was thinking of Cilie, who was from a border town. “Something is going on in Kel. They sent our ambassador packing, explaining King Scandlan was feeling under the weather and wouldn’t be holding court for some time. But the dismissal was suspicious, and given that this new trouble is so near Kel, Geric wants to get there quickly and make sure all is well. He’s taking Bayern’s Own.”
“Really? All of us?” Razo peeked up from where he’d been lounging on the carpet, fiddling with a loose nail on the underside of a table.
Isi barked a surprised laugh. “How long have you been there, Razo? I guess I should know to check under rugs and tables for you. Yes, Geric wants all of Bayern’s Own who are currently in Bayern. No time to send for Talone and the rest in Tira, of course.”
“Just as well,” said Razo. “I was getting bored. I mean”—he shot a glance at Enna, who was still draped in cloth—“not that Enna and Finn’s wedding preparations aren’t
thrilling
. I guess I’ve never had such a good time in my life as Enna’s discourse this morning on which style of slippers are most—
ow!
”
Razo was interrupted by the slap of Enna’s slipper against his head.
“You’re not going anyway,” said Enna. “You’re the Tiran ambassador’s personal guard now, and that trumps your other duties.”
“That’s right,” Razo said, knuckling his forehead. “Finn, promise me you’ll have an extremely boring time—no adventures whatsoever.”
“None whatsoever,” Finn said.
“That wasn’t convincing at all.” Razo turned to Isi with a pleading expression.
“He’s subtle, isn’t he?” Isi said, looking over her shoulder at Rin.
Rin nodded. “From birth. As a little boy, he was known to scream ‘Smell me!’ whenever he—”
“That’ll do, baby sister,” said Razo. “No one wants to reminisce.”
“You can go if you like, Razo,” said Isi. “I’m sure Geric would be grateful for your eyes and your sling, if the ambassador gives you leave.”
“After some well-placed compliments, she’ll be clay in my fingers. Just wait and see.”
“I’ll wait and see just how eager she is to have a break from you,” said Enna.
“I should report to Captain Brynn,” said Finn. “He’ll want to leave in the morning.” He held out his hand to Enna, helping her stand, letting the cloth tumble to the floor.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Enna shrugged, though Rin could see she cared quite a bit. “As long as you didn’t invent the trouble to get out of marrying me.”
Both Isi and Razo made doubtful noises.
Enna leaned back to look at Isi. “Am I going too?”
Isi shook her head. “Don’t bother, Enna. It doesn’t sound dangerous. You may as well stay and get everything ready so you can marry that troublesome scoundrel the instant he gets back.”
“He’s some trouble, it’s true, but he’s only a scoundrel when I ask him to be.”
“And only when she asks nicely,” said Finn.
Razo covered his head with his arms. “Ugh, save me from the sauce of their loveyness.”
Isi laughed, but Rin frowned, still going over Isi’s words in her mind. She’d implied that if the situation had been more dangerous, then Enna would have been asked to go. Why? No one else in the room had seemed surprised by that exchange, except perhaps the other waiting women, their faces bowed over their darning, the window light at their backs hiding their expressions.
Enna’s arms were around Finn’s neck. “You be careful. I’ve already had you fitted for your wedding clothes, and it’d be a nuisance if you went and lost a limb.”
Finn whispered something in Enna’s ear. She half-laughed, half-sighed, and he kissed her cheek and then her lips.
“All right, all right,” Razo grumbled, pulling himself off the floor. “If it’s going to get all sticky around here, then I’d best be off to find Dasha and do my duty. She’s bound to get grumpy if she doesn’t get her fair share of farewell kissing.”
“That’s so
noble
of you, Razo, to make the sacrifice,” said Enna.
“That’s me, all sacrifice and nobility. And charm. Don’t forget the charm.” He kept talking as the three left the room. “And we’d better stop by the kitchens to get our own supplies. They never pack the right kinds of food . . .”
At dawn the next day, King Geric rode out with thirty of his personal band of soldiers, Bayern’s Own, Finn and Razo among them. The king was taller than Finn, though not as broad. Even dressed in the same subdued colors for travel as his men, he had something about him that reminded Rin he was the king. Confidence, perhaps, boldness, and an awareness of everyone around him. He shouted to his wife, “No worrying, now!”
Captain Brynn rode beside him and made his own farewell salute to the queen. He was fair-haired by Bayern standards, and though captain of the king’s hundred-band, he had the clever and anxious look of a scholar. Rin could not see Isi’s face, but it must have betrayed her worry, because Brynn shouted, “I’ll protect the king’s life on my own, my queen. I swear it!”
“Thank you, Captain,” said Isi. “You all come back to me as fast as sparrows!”
Rin held a very sleepy Tusken. She’d pulled him from bed to see his father off, and he still had not so much as squeezed open an eye. His ability to sleep like the dead through all that clamor amazed her, and she wondered if she had ever felt so completely content, even as a small child.
“I always worry,” Isi said to Rin, watching her husband ride through the palace gates. “But they’ll be fine. Of course they will.”
The chilly calm in Isi’s voice made Rin take a second look at the departing figures, searching for a head shorter than the rest, his hair standing straight up. Razo was her favorite person in all the world, besides Ma. Her other brothers treated her like a smaller and quieter version of their mother. But Razo . . . he wrestled her and let her face get dirty, put a sling in her hand, and showed her the gut-tickling satisfaction of a well-played prank. Each time he’d left the Forest, she’d felt a slap of grief that she’d kept quiet and close. But he always returned a little braver, a little smarter—even a little taller.
She spotted his head there among the dozens, almost too far away to see. Instead of filling her with loneliness, this time his leaving made her afraid.