The ensuing scramble to find anything of use in Daros's home is fruitless. Jaku leaves a few people behind, to take care of the body. The rest of us march back to the palace.
Nash stays close by. I wonder what he's thinking. If he's disgusted by me.
I am.
But mostly, I'm worried.
The anger has burned off and left me with little to hold onto. I need something, but I don't know what. I want Daros recaptured, so I don't have to fear the things he can do to me or those around me. It's too much to deal with. My brain is overloaded, so I turn off my feelings.
Let myself be numb.
I take note of everything going through the portcullis, into the palace, through the halls, and to my rooms. There are guards everywhere, which should make me feel safe but only leads me to wonder which of them will betray me.
Nash opens the door to my sitting room, says something I can't hear to Jaku, follows me into the room.
I take quick stock of both rooms. When I find nothing, I return to the sitting room, to find Nash watching me with a wary gaze.
I'm still holding a dagger in each hand.
I put them away. “Did you need something?”
He straightens. “I was wondering if there is anything further you would like us to do, besides the search we have going on for Daros.”
I flinch at the sound of his name. Everything is too close to the surface. “I don't know.”
Nash takes a step toward me, stops, and backtracks. “If you think of anything, please let me know. I want him captured.”
As do I.
He bows and leaves the room. Something about those gestures seems odd. I don't know what, just that it leaves me unsettled. I head to my bedroom, and moments later, my servant and friend, Inkga, joins me.
“I heard about what happened,” she says. “I'm sorry he got away.”
I clench my jaw. I don't want to tune her out. To be rude. What else can I do, though? I want nothing to do with reminders of him, but they are everywhere.
Crushing.
Blinding.
Suffocating.
“My Lady, are you all right?”
I give a heavy blink. “Fine. Let's just get ready for bed.”
While I change, she cleans up around my room even though it’s pretty much too clean. As soon as I got clothes I could put on myself, I insisted she no longer help me with them. It seems silly to have someone else dress me.
Once I'm ready and she's finished turning down the bed, she says, “There are extra guards outside your window and in the hall. Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything. Good night.”
I nod, though I have no intention of needing a thing from her or the guards. She curtseys and leaves. Immediately, I want her back. The room is darker. Colder.
I climb in bed, holding the blankets around me tight. I'm not sure I can sleep, but I'm in no mood for climbing to the roof. I brush my hand under my pillow where I stashed a couple of daggers. That's more reassuring than anything else tonight. If only I didn't need to use them. I've been attacked in my rooms far too much, as it is.
That’s not all that’s under here, though. The doll the little girl gave me at the ball is here as well. I take it out and hug it close before putting it back. She gave up something special to her, to give it to me. I wonder how she is. If she has enough to eat. If the supplies I sent her family helped.
I keep my grip tight around my dagger as I try to drift off. There are guards on the ground outside my window and sitting room. I should be safe from him. Still, I can't let go of my dagger.
I relax my grip and ease my arm away it. The blades are there; this has to be enough. It's always been enough.
But not now.
I toss and turn for far too long. I want to climb down on the floor but can't bring myself to get up. Finally, the night fades and the colors blossom.
The colors of the sunset are softer than I usually dream, but still there, as is the First Queen, who sits nearby. I take in her typical green dress, her green eyes, the matching green-jeweled necklace, and long blonde hair. I wouldn't think one person could be so comforting, but her presence is. It's strong and true. Patient and calm. Everything I need in this minute.
“You've had a hard setback,” she says.
“Nothing I can't handle.”
“You don't have to pretend with me. I know these things. Why don't you have a seat?”
I remain standing and shift from one leg to the other.
“You did a good job standing up to him in the first place. And then, when he came to the ball and outed you for being an assassin who killed the last queen before trying to kill you, you were so brave. Even in the face of what he made you do to poor Deedra, you championed for what's right and good. You held your ground.” She sounds so sure of herself.
“You don't understand,” I say.
“Then tell me. I want to know.”
I don't want to talk about it. I don’t say it out loud, but she’s in my head; she reads my thoughts.
“But you need to.”
I huff.
“Come on, now. There's no reason to be like this. It really does help to talk about it. I promise.”
I still don't want to, but since she can read my mind anyway, there's no use fighting it. “He hurt me, for all my life. He did whatever he wanted to me. He used me to do his dirty work. Trained me to kill whoever he wanted gone. I knew there was more to life, but I didn't know I could have it. When I escaped from him, it was so freeing.”
“And then he found you.”
I give in and sit. It's a strange feeling, not sitting on anything, but typical for a dream maybe. “He found me and did what I feared—he told everyone what I was.”
“That hasn't been so bad for you.”
“Only because the people fear my guards. Fear me.” Mostly me, the Shadow Wraith.
“You don't want to be feared?”
I take a moment to think about it. “Does a good queen want to be feared?”
“That's up to you to decide.”
“But I thought you were here to guide me?”
“I am, and I will. But some things are better learned on your own.”
I glare at her, wishing she'd give me the answers. “I know that the people—my people—haven't been coming around to my way of thinking. Of course they weren’t before, either. Maybe I need to be officially coronated and moved into my duties with them. Maybe then they will come to respect me, instead of being scared. I have to swear to do better.”
“It sounds like a wise plan.”
A coronation, then. I should set that in motion.
“You know, you shouldn't worry about Daros coming back, when you defeated him once.”
“Who says I’m worried?”
“It's there, in your thoughts, unguarded.”
I cross my arms. “So what if I am? I have every reason to fear him. Beating him was a fluke. There's no telling I could ever do that again. Though this time I won’t be alone, neither will he. Besides, he controlled me almost my entire life. What's to stop that now? He may not come after me, but someone will. I will pay for what I've done.”
“You need to move on. To live your life.”
I'm silent, trying to keep my thoughts away from her soft touch.
She sighs. “Please move on with your life, though it's hard. The coronation is a good idea. You should do it.” When I don't respond, she says, “It's all right to have a weakness. Everyone does.”
“What's yours, then?”
She looks down. “Mine doesn't matter. I'm no longer living a real life. I'm simply guiding you.”
Can it be true? Is it okay to have a weakness? To have a soft spot for something? For myself and my people?
“You know it is. Be true to yourself.”
Her words stir something in my heart that I’m not sure I’m ready to face. “You’re not mad at me for killing Queen Deedra?” I ask.
“No, dearest. It came from Daros, not you. It was not your choice to be the Shadow Wraith. He forced you into it. Now that you’ve seen the light, you’ve left that persona behind. You have to forgive yourself for the part you played in it.”
Maybe.
“No maybe about it. But no matter what I tell you, you’ll have to believe it for yourself.”
I sigh. I wish things were easier.
“I do, as well.”
This makes me think of something we haven’t talked about in the past few weeks. Why could I feel her presence during my fight with Daros, when I captured him?
“Because of the Mortum Tura. I told you, the more you drink it, the stronger you will become. The more connected we’ll be.”
I don’t know how I feel about that.
“You don’t have to decide now, but I must go. We'll talk more soon,” she says.
“I'll think about what you said.”
“That's all I can ask.”
Will it help, or will it be my undoing?