"This could be a mistake," Ven said quietly. He was sitting at her back, on a root. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck.
"It could be," Naelin agreed. Merecot could simply try again. Send more assassins. Invade again. She could feel desperate now that her plan had failed. Or maybe she'd be smart and realize they could help. Together, they could find a better, less bloody solution. There had to be one.
"You don't think it is." It wasn't a question. "If Daleina had decided to kill her . . . If I had agreed . . ." He sounded as if he already knew her answer before he even formed the words.
"Yes, I would have stopped you." Leaning over her daughter, she pressed her lips to her sleeping daughter's hair. It smelled a bit like smoke and a lot like dust. Erian's hands and arms were streaked with dirt, and her palms were red. So were Llor's. Later, she'd ask them all about what they'd seen and heard and did. For now, it was enough that they were together. A sudden thought occurred to her. "But you knew that. You knew that when you offered to kill her, didn't you?" Twisting around as far as she could without disturbing her children, she met Ven's eyes.
He caressed her cheek. "Yes."
She smiled. "I'm that predictable?"
"You're that good. You will be a good queen."
Naelin looked across the grove toward Daleina. The queen of Aratay was standing beside her healer, and all her attention was focused northward. She hadn't collapsed again, despite how much she was using her power. "Aratay already has a good queen."
"And now it has two," Ven said. "Doubly lucky. Like I am, for having found you." He moved closer, leaning against her.
Llor shifted in her lap. "And me," he said sleepily.
Ven laughed softly, a rumble that she felt through her back. "Triply lucky, for having found you, Erian, and Llor."
"And the nice doggie too," Llor said.
"Yes, Bayn too."
The wolf raised his head and regarded them with his yellow eyes. He then scooted closer and lay his head across Naelin's feet, as if he agreed with Ven and Llor.
Naelin hadn't thought of it as luck, and she'd certainly never considered it good luck. Fate maybe? Or simply the convergence of many people's choices, bringing them all to this grove, together.
Maybe it didn't matter what they called it, chance or choice, as long as they were together.
She pulled Erian and Llor closer, feeling their warmth. She felt Ven behind her and Bayn at her feet-all of them, cocooning her, believing in her. And despite everything, she felt, for the first time in a long while, safe.
Chapter 38
White blossoms fell on fresh graves so often that the sweet smell wafted across Mittriel with the evening breeze, becoming as familiar as the scent of bread from the bakeries and sweat from the workers who were repairing the city.
Two days after Queen Merecot's retreat to Semo, Queen Daleina presided over the funerals for Champion Piriandra and the other champions and candidates who had fallen. She spoke of their dedication and bravery and sacrifice, and she called to the spirits to cover the earth and fill the air with white flowers. A day later, she attended the funerals for the city and palace guards, as well as the caretakers and courtiers who had been killed by spirits. Again, more flowers. Then at the ruins of Northeast Academy, where Headmistress Hanna, who'd lost the use of her legs while defending her students, led a ceremony for the fallen students, teachers, and staff. After that, there was the memorial for the men, women, and children of Aratay-each family had their own private funeral, but Daleina wanted to honor her people and all their losses. At this, the petals were as plentiful as snow in a winter storm.
By the end of it, she was sick of death, sick of pain, and sick of tears. Grief and guilt felt like rain that had permeated every inch of her skin. She could not escape it. And still there was one more to be buried: Captain Alet.
No one wanted a funeral for Alet.
Except Daleina. And, to her surprise, Naelin. The other queen joined Daleina while she was arguing with a knot of chancellors in the Amber Throne Room.
All the chancellors bowed when Queen Naelin entered. She was followed closely by the seneschal, and Daleina was certain he had brought her here-he was intent on doing his duty to both queens. He was the one who had insisted that a second throne be set up on the dais. Borrowed from the Sunrise Room, its pastels were jarring in the somber, rich gold of the Amber Throne Room.
But then, everything about having two queens was jarring.
Naelin had yet to sit on her throne.
"Your Majesty . . ." one of the chancellors began, and then stopped as if uncertain how to continue-it was Chancellor Xanon, who had been pushing the most strenuously for Alet's body to be shipped back to Semo in an unmarked crate.