My walk with Luisa had been a nice break in the monotony, but it had only lasted an hour, before I was back in my room. But the next morning, a servant arrived in Luisa's place with a corset and another dress from my collection, telling me to get ready for church.
"Church?"
"Yes, ma'am," she said, avoiding my gaze. "Her Majesty requested your presence."
Walking around in the mostly empty castle was one thing, being out in public yet another. Ilara must've been feeling confident. Even as I endured the tightening of the corset, I considered another benefit to my jaunt—I could potentially make contact with one of my people.
It had been several weeks since I'd left camp, and all parties—Katarine, Felix, Jax, even Ignacio—had their marching orders. By now, Jax should've infiltrated the city with the vigilantes we'd been training. Surely, one of them had been assigned to watch me. If I could venture into the confessional—
"Oof." I winced as the corset dug into my ribcage. It seemed I'd only get a reprieve from the torture in the castle.
"Sorry, miss."
My legs protested the stairs again. I'd probably have to do this more often if I was going to remain in any sort of shape to wage war. But perhaps that was also Ilara's strategy. Soften me through idleness. Perhaps I'd have to start exercising in my room.
"You look beautiful," Luisa said, joining me at the bottom of the stairs. She wasn't wearing a corset, having opted for a more Severian-looking garb of a loose dress. I could've argued that I could wear a tunic and pants to church, but it seemed they wanted to play this game. The only thing I could do was not look too uncomfortable.
"Isn't Ilara concerned that people might recognize me?"
"My dear, I doubt anyone in this town even remembers you," Luisa said, her gaze emotionless. "And it's Her Majesty. If you're going to be out of the castle, you need to use her official title."
I swallowed my disgust. "Yes, Her Majesty. Of course."
But it was hard to hide my true feelings when I saw who'd be escorting us to the sermon. Coyle always seemed to pop up just when I was feeling confident. Still, escorting Luisa and me seemed like an odd job for the captain of the guard to have, and it pleased me to see him assigned to something so menial.
When we reached the carriage, Coyle held out his hand to help Luisa inside, but I made a point of ignoring his gesture, climbing into the carriage and sitting down with a huff. He muttered something under his breath and closed the door, calling to the driver to go.
"You look troubled," Luisa said as the carriage lurched forward. "Is it Captain Coyle?"
"How could you tell?"
"You don't even look at Her Majesty with such open contempt," Luisa said with a chuckle. "Why does he vex you?"
"Because he betrayed everything he stood for to save his own skin." Might as well be honest about it. "I can perhaps forgive Ilara for exploiting my weakness. But he made a decision to betray his friends."
"Was he a friend of yours? Before Ilara arrived?"
He was Felix's, and more importantly, August's. I still maintained that Coyle's was the hand that slipped the poison into my brother's food.
"No, but… There are some things I can't forgive, I suppose," I managed to say. "But I would rather not think about them."
We rode the short distance in silence and I debated if I should adjust my attitude toward Coyle, lest it reveal something about me. But considering I'd punched Felix in the face when I thought he'd betrayed me, the emotion seemed correct for the situation. I'd just have to be careful not to let it influence my words as much as my face.
When the carriage door opened, Coyle extended his hand, meeting my gaze. I hesitated for a second then walked out of the carriage without help, pushing his hand away with my shoulder. I joined Luisa, who shook her head in dismay then took my arm.
"Forgiveness is a virtue, Brynna," she said with a soft smile.
"For some," I said. "For others, the Mother will take care of them."
I made sure Coyle overheard that.
The doors to the chapel were wide open, and the temperature dropped as we came inside. The stained glass and high ceilings brought peace to my unsettled heart, if only temporarily. Even though Fishen was gone, this place was timeless, a reminder that kings and queens come and go, but stone is forever.
I'd thought Luisa might take me up the side of the pews, but she opted for the middle path, in plain view of all those who'd gathered. I couldn't help scanning their faces, but my heart sank as most of them appeared Severian. The few Forcadelians there didn't give me a passing glance.
"I doubt anyone in this town even remembers you."
Truer words, unfortunately. But more concerning, I didn't see a single vigilante amongst them.
Luisa took me to the very front of the church where we sat in silence. The corset was wildly uncomfortable, and I fidgeted for a moment until I found a comfortable position.
Out of habit, my gaze went to the ornate chair in the corner—my father's chair. Next to it were two smaller chairs, where August and I had been forced to sit as children. It had been torturous, and I'd done whatever I could to avoid it. It was also my spot during my father and August's funerals.
The space where their caskets had lain was empty now, but my mind's eye could see them clearly. I'd gazed upon my father's gray beard and August's young, pale, dead face. I'd been mad at them for leaving me with their burden and couldn't rustle up the required sadness. Felix had chastised me for it, saying that my people expected me to be sad, and I'd chafed at the idea of hiding my emotions. How far I'd come.
"You seem lost in thought," Luisa said. "What's on your mind?"
"My father," I said, turning my gaze back to the chair. Might as well be honest. "And the day of his funeral."
"My condolences for your loss," she said.
"I didn't like him," I said. "But life was easier when he was on the throne."
She patted my knee. "And now that responsibility is on Ilara's capable shoulders. You can rest easy."
I mentally smacked myself. "I suppose you're right."
"It is quite a beautiful chapel," she said. "I know Ilara took inspiration when she designed the new church in Aunela."
My heart leapt to my throat. Aunela—I hadn't heard much about that. "What…exactly is going on there?"
Luisa just smiled enigmatically. "Her Majesty has asked that it be a surprise."
"Her Majesty, Queen Ilara Hipolita Särkkä of Severia."
The congregation rose with varying degrees of swiftness as Ilara stood at the back of the church, a vision wearing a mid-calf, light brown Severian dress that revealed her sandal-clad feet, and adorned with gold necklaces and an ornate crown. Once she was certain she was the center of attention, she began to walk toward the front of the room, nodding to the Severians who called out to her. She actually stopped in front of one older man, taking his hand and wearing a kind smile that I couldn't find any fakeness in.
Still, the entire episode felt forced. Ilara hadn't been much for church before, and inviting me here to this packed place seemed to be sending a message to me. She had been on this throne for nearly a year, and the people here had accepted her as their own.
It grated every inch of my soul to see her so triumphant. Even more so when she took the chair I'd been staring at, settling with her slim fingers on the arm rests. She nodded to a sister nearby, signaling the service could begin.
The sister ascended the dais, and I realized with a start that I wouldn't be hearing from Fishen that day. Something sad echoed in my soul, but there was nothing I could do about the priest except pray the Mother would protect her.
But as soon as the service began, it was easy to get lost in the words and ceremony. The sound of a thousand voices raised in song brought tears to my eyes as I sang to the lyrics I'd known since I was a girl. It seemed to be one blissful piece of my life that hadn't been completely ripped to shreds.
After the last hymn, the congregation rose and waited for Ilara to leave. She exited much as she'd entered, stopping to speak with her subjects and looking every bit the queen they wanted her to be.
My heart sank further as they crowded her. How was I supposed to win against this?
But just as my mood darkened, I spotted a lone Forcadelian woman sitting in the pew nearby, her head bowed in prayer.
Malka—one of my vigilantes.
Tears threatened to spring to my eyes as relief echoed through my chest. I'd been harboring the fear that I'd been abandoned, that I was enduring this torture for absolutely nothing. But Malka's presence was fuel to the tiny spark of hope that had nearly gone out.
"Brynna," Luisa said, nudging me. "I believe Her Majesty is coming over."
I broke my gaze from Malka, refocusing my brain. I was abandoned. Alone. Miserable. I buried my excitement as far beneath the surface as I could.
When Ilara reached our row, Luisa curtseyed then cast an expectant look to me—but my knees protested, refusing to bend. Finally, I had to bump my joint against the pew to make them move. When I rose, Ilara wore that same triumphant grin.
"It's nice to see you here, Brynna," Ilara said with a genuine smile. "I'm glad we've come to an understanding."
"Thank you," I said with a nod. "For allowing me to come."
"I hear you've been reading my books," Ilara said. "Perhaps the three of us should sit down over tea to discuss them. It's been so long since we've had someone to share in our joy."
"That would be wonderful." Wonderful? It would be amazing. I'd thought I'd have to endure weeks of Luisa's presence before being allowed back in Ilara's.
Luisa nudged me and something uncomfortable slid into my stomach. Ilara was waiting for me to address her—using her honorific. And perhaps even a bow.
My legs refused to bend, so I knocked the back of my knee against the pew and the rest of me dipped with it. I swallowed the bad taste in my mouth and forced myself to sound sincere.
"Your Majesty."
Looking pleased, Ilara left us, and I swallowed a sigh of relief. That had been close. Bowing before my sworn enemy in front of the Mother and the candles had almost broken me.
"Would you like to visit the sister for confession?" Luisa asked, nudging me and pointing to the chamber in the corner. It had been months—perhaps almost a year—since I'd confessed and sought guidance. But if I set foot inside that vestibule, I'd probably hear from Malka, or even Jax.
And as much as I wanted to get information from them, I'd just earned a victory from Ilara. I couldn't jeopardize that.
"No," I said, after a moment. "This was enough."