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The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(27)

By:Sarah Beth Durst


"Of course," Corinda said. "Go safely. But Naelin, you should know that they're talking to everyone. And people are mentioning . . . you know." She nodded significantly northward, toward the school.

Oh, no, Naelin thought. She'd hoped that everyone had forgotten. It had been years since anyone had mentioned it. Erian had been little, younger than Llor was now, when a rogue wood spirit had split the base of the tree that held the school. The tree had teetered, all the children trapped on the platform high above. Down below, with the other parents, Naelin had seen it all happen. She remembered knowing with absolute clarity that if she didn't do something, the tree would fall and all the children with it. And she remembered watching, with the other parents, as the spirit was forced to heal the tree, knitting the base together, strengthening the trunk with vines, holding it upright until the children could be rescued-and then Naelin had fainted, which was when the rumors began that she had done it. "No one has any proof." 

"People don't need proof to spread rumors," Corinda said. "You'd better get home and lay low. The queen's own champion, well, it's the most exciting thing to happen in Everdale in ages, and everyone wants to talk to him. Pretty soon, they'll be making up stories about you just for the chance to look at the man who chose the woman who became queen."

"I'll stay home," Naelin promised. "Once they move on, people will forget. Something else will happen, and they'll talk about that."

Corinda brightened. "Ooh, you could always have an affair with someone. That would change the conversation. Or I could have an affair with someone . . ."

Naelin flashed her a smile, and hoped she didn't look as worried as she felt. "Thank you for the warning." Waving goodbye, she abandoned her plan to buy enough supplies for the week and instead hurried through the market.

As she pushed through the crowd, Naelin was acutely aware that people, her neighbors and supposed friends, were indeed staring at her and whispering about her, and she felt anger grow in the base of her stomach, right next to the fear. Those strangers had no right to come here, to her home, and muck up her life. She'd made a nice life for herself and her family. She fit in, or she thought she did. She'd worked hard to be just another woodswoman. It wasn't right that they'd torn all that open.

Reaching the rope bridges, she didn't stop. She hurried over the swaying path, glancing back over her shoulder frequently. She'd never felt unsafe in the market before. It was supposed to feel familiar and friendly and-

Rounding a corner, she halted. The champion and the guard lounged against the rail of the bridge, casually, as if they'd been waiting for her, and her anger bubbled over. "What are you still doing here?" Naelin demanded. "I told you I'm not who you need." Part of her recoiled. I can't talk that way to a champion! But she didn't back down. This wasn't just about her-she had to be strong for Erian and Llor.

"We like what we heard about you," the champion said.

"You heard lies." Naelin tried to hold on to the anger-it was better than feeling the fear. "Everdale is a boring little town. You're exciting. People will tell you whatever you want to hear, just so you'll stay longer."

"Except you," the guardswoman pointed out.

Is that what gave me away? Naelin wondered.

"I'd like to propose a test," the champion said, watching her. "We will rile up a few spirits. If you lack the power to send them away, we will leave you alone. If you don't . . . then you drop the lies and listen to what your queen and country require of you."

Naelin backed along the bridge. This was . . . unfair, her brain supplied. Dangerous. Stupid. Stupidly dangerous. "You'll get me killed."

"Not if you use your power," the guard said.

"I have children at home," Naelin pleaded, "two young, beautiful children who need their mother. Don't make me do this." She glanced back and forth between them, trying to find a shred of sympathy in their eyes. The guard's expression was colder than a mountain stream.

"They'll be well provided for, regardless of the outcome," the champion said, as if that would soothe her. "The Crown has funds for families such as yours. Your husband and children will never want for anything ever again."

"Except for their mother!" Naelin's voice was shrill. Her muscles screamed at her to run, run, run! But she knew she couldn't outrun two trained warriors.

The guardswoman clucked her tongue. "That's not a winning attitude. Use your power, and you'll survive."