I talk to the First Queen about politics and what I should expect while visiting other cities in Valcora. It’s nice to rest and have someone to talk these things over with who won’t judge me and can’t tell others my inner thoughts.
The next morning Inkga packs up, and Julina disappears. Eldim comes in her stead. We have breakfast, get back into the carriage, and head out to our destination. The ride is much like yesterday’s, with me staring out the window while the other two talk.
About an hour from our destination, we stop at a little house, where I change out of my traveling clothes and into something more fitting what people expect a queen to be wearing. It’s still too subdued for Inyi, but I like it. No flounces, giant skirts, or lace.
Back in the carriage, I eagerly stare at the changing scenery, the houses growing more and more frequent. Will the citizens like me? Will they have heard bad things about me and want to kill me so they can have a new queen? A better one?
I shove the thoughts from my mind.
When we arrive, my fingers are sore from being pinched and unpinched. The door to the carriage opens, and I steel myself before pasting a smile on my face and climbing out.
The first thing I notice is Nash. I let my gaze slide over him, not wanting to show favoritism. The scenery is full of wild colors. People wearing bright blues, greens, reds, yellows, and purples are watching my every move as I climb out of the carriage.
It’s surprisingly silent, gazes intent on me. I step carefully. No sense tripping in front of this huge gathering. As soon as I get both feet on the ground, they all bow low to the ground. They move like a ripple, almost as far as I can see.
“Please rise.” The people are everywhere. This is supposed to be one of the biggest cities on my royal tour. I believe it. Riding in, we saw lots of buildings and crowds watching us from the side of the road. This isn’t a city I’ve been to as the Shadow Wraith. It’s a pleasant thought. The first time I’m here, it’s as Ryn. Queen Ryn, unfortunately, but much better than as an assassin.
My guards admit a woman before closing the gap back up. She has her hair done up in an elaborate braid and wears a shocking-yellow dress, her green eyes taking in more than I’d like. She bows to me, and I motion for her to get up.
“Welcome to Pulfa, Queen Ryn,” she says. “We are honored by your presence. I am Opla Kindor, ruler of this fine city.”
“Thank you for hosting us.” For once, I’m grateful for all the time I spent with my ladies-in-waiting.
“I assure you, it is our pleasure. Please come and get yourself situated before we host a dinner for you this evening.”
Is it my imagination, or are her hands shaking? “That would be nice.”
She points to the building on our left. “This is our finest inn. The innkeeper has prepared a room for you and your company.”
“We’re thankful for your generosity,” Nash says from my left side.
When did he move closer? How did I not notice? There are too many people here. Too much going on. I’ll be grateful to get to my room.
I introduce Nash to Opla. She holds out her hand for him to kiss. A surge of jealousy rips through me, but I force my expression to remain neutral. Nash is trustworthy, even if that’s hard for me to comprehend.
It’s that she can openly have his kisses, when I can have nothing.
I tear myself away from those thoughts. They’ll do me no good. Nor will they do her any good, since I feel like punching her in the face.
My smile is tight, but at least it’s there.
I slink my way forward, careful not to touch anyone. Opla and Nash traipse behind me, guards surrounding us. I hope Inkga is coming, but I don’t glance back and show the weakness of wanting a certain person by me.
As we come to the inn, a man stands to one side of the door, a woman beside him. The rest of the crowd moves out of the way of my guards, but those two stay in place. They’re both round, with green tunics on. They’re about the same height—a little taller than me. The woman scowls at me, but the man grins ear to ear.
When we reach them, the man says, “Welcome to the Boar’s Inn. It’s a pleasure to serve you, my lady. Your rooms are ready and we've drawn baths in all of them. Please, feel free freshen up and then we will have a celebration of your arrival.”
“Thank you.” My mouth is tired of saying that. I’ll probably have to keep saying it as long as I’m traveling. I’d much rather have reason to pull my daggers out. Even Daros would be a welcome relief. Not really, everything just feels different than I'm used to. Did he follow us out here once he learned of my coming, or is he waiting like a tiger to spring on Indell while I’m gone?
There’s no reason to fret. Jem and Wilric will take good care of the place while I am gone. I trust them. They’ve earned at least that much.
The inn is what I anticipated—lots dull brown wood, tables surrounded by chairs all over the ground floor, and a staircase up the side. The only thing missing is customers, but that’s because I’m here.
The innkeeper and who I assume is his wife lead the way up the stairs. We pass by several doors. When we come to one in the middle of the hallway, the innkeeper pulls out a key and unlocks it.
“This is your room, Your Majesty,” the innkeeper says.
He hands the key to Inkga, who appeared out of nowhere. Julina scouts out the room before motioning us inside.
I can feel Nash’s gaze on my back, but I don’t turn and acknowledge him. As much as I want to, I can’t.
There’s a sense of relief that comes with the door closing. The only ones I have to perform for are Julina and Inkga, and the two of them are hardly a concern. I plop down on the nearest chair, wishing I didn’t change into a dress before we got here. Inkga insisted it would look better if I didn’t arrive in my traveling clothes, but it’s so much more restrictive than a good pair of pants.
The room is much better appointed than I expected from the inn. This must be their best room, or they made it nicer because they knew I was coming, which would be kind of them.
A huge bed takes up most of one wall. Across from it, next to where I’m sitting, is a couch with a small table to the side of it, sitting in front of an unlit fire. In the corner is a dressing screen, which I assume is hiding the bath. On the other wall, there’s a large window with a vanity close by.
“Do you want to bathe before the water gets cold?” Inkga asks.
“You two should go first. I don’t mind cold water.” It’s all I had growing up. Though I’ve enjoyed being spoiled by warm water more recently.
“Forgive me, but I believe that would be inappropriate.” Inkga moves around the room, gathering things needed for a bath, like soap and clothes, and putting them behind the dressing screen.
“Julina?” I ask.
“After you, Your Majesty. Besides, I should get someone else to stand guard while I bathe.”
I wave away her concern. “I can guard myself. We’re safe enough here.” Guards must be posted outside the door. The window is the only concern. While it’s possible for someone to come in that way, it probably won’t happen. I'm sure guards are posted there as well. Either way, I’m prepared for it anyway.
But if both girls are going to refuse a bath before me, I’d better hurry to save them some warm water. “Fine. I’ll go first, but know I’m not doing it willingly. And Julina, I will be considered the guard while you get rid of your travel dust.”
She has the gall to roll her eyes. I like her better for it.
After a quick bath, Inkga has me change into a dress that has more leeway than the last one—but is still a dress. It’s a dark blue with a slash showing white in the skirt and more slashes in the arms. The important part is the amount of daggers I can stash on my person, hidden from sight. It’s perfect.
While I’m getting my blades arranged, Inkga cleans up. When it’s Julina’s turn, she insists we need another guard, but I veto her position. While she washes, Inkga does my hair in fancy knots.
When Julina emerges from the other side of the dressing screen wearing her uniform, I say, “See? Nothing bad happened to me. I wasn’t attacked, though I could have handled it.”
“The point is you shouldn’t have to handle it.” She adds, “Your Majesty.”
“Maybe.” It’s the best I can do at conceding.
“Are you ready?” Inkga asks me.
I’d rather stay here and work on my fighting skills. But I did already put on a dress. “I suppose.”
The guards around my door surround me as best they can as I exit my room. When we get out of the inn, the rest of the guards are ready. It would be better if they found their rooms and cleaned up as well, but they still look travel-worn. I guess I can’t control everything, but I wish things weren’t so much about me, even if I understand why they are.
Opla waits for us in the middle of the road. We move forward as one body, and my entourage parts as we reach her.
“Are you ready for celebration?” she asks after a curtsy.
No. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Wonderful. The citizens are most anxious to meet with you.”
We travel down the street. The farther we go, the louder it gets—the sound of a crowd having the time of their lives. There are so many people that they drift off into the distance. My guards keep close, surrounding me and Opla.
As we reach the crowd, the noise decreases until the only sound is the faint commotion of children and mothers shushing them. The crowd bows low. I call out, “Please rise.”
The people get to their feet. They’re still abnormally silent, making me tense and wanting to grab my daggers. I reach up to make sure my poison pouch is around my neck under my clothes. Not that either that or my blades would do me any good if the crowd attacked. Even my guards couldn’t protect me from all of them.
I glance at faces as we walk by. Some are solemn, but others are eager. There’s a mother pointing me out to her children. A man with a little boy on his shoulders. A young man, not much older than me, watching with eager eyes.
What must all these people think of me?
We come to a long table facing outward to the crowd, with no one behind it. Opla motions for me to go to it first. With guards in tow, I go around and stand behind the middle seat. Opla and others I’m not familiar with stand behind the seats beside me.
Should I sit? Is that what they’re waiting for, or is it something else I’m unaware of? I’m about to sit when movement to the right catches my eye. I glance over, hands on the hilts of my daggers, and realize it’s Inkga. I relax and take in what she’s carrying.
A tray with the Mortum Tura on it. I didn’t realize we brought it with us, but it makes sense. The way it makes me glow will confirm to them that I am their ruler. That I belong in my place.
Inkga holds out the tray. I take the chalice and bring it to my lips, but then I hesitate. The First Queen said the more I drank, the more powerful I’d become. The pressure of the cup is soft against my bottom lip.
I feel the First Queen’s presence, faint but steady. Every eye is on me. I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to drink. I can’t make the crowd wait any longer. I lift the chalice, drinking the sweet liquid. Once I’m done, I set it back on the tray.
The crowd watches me with widening eyes. They drop to the ground, bowing lower than they did before. Everyone at the table gets down on their knees as well.
I know what they see, even if I can’t myself. I remember the time I drank it in the room with mirrors and saw myself glowing. That’s what is before them now.
I take a moment to collect myself. There’s much I could do with this type of power over the people. The First Queen’s presence wanes until I can no longer feel it. What I want to do with the power is help the people. To make things better for them, not rule over them.
“Rise.” My voice carries through the stillness despite the vast gathering.
The crowd rises. They look at me, their mouths wide with wonder. I wonder how long I’ll glow for.
Opla motions her hand to me. “Citizens, meet Queen Ryn, your newest ruler. She has come to join with us in these festivities.” She glances at me as if she expects me to say something.
What would be the proper words to speak at such a time? I draw on all my time spent with the ladies-in-waiting. “Thank you for meeting with me this day. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to celebrate and enjoy the good things your community has to offer.”
I take a seat, and thankfully, the others at the table follow suit. Food is set in front of me first and then in front of the others. I hurry to take a bite so the others don’t wait for me. The food is sweet with a hint of herbs.
Sound fills the space as people start talking again and gazes are shifted away from me. I want to relax my shoulders. Curl in on myself. Instead, I hold my form and take another bite.
Opla introduces me to others at the table, who all smile and nod politely.
The people in the crowd head to tables I didn’t notice before, laden with food. They must have a lot of farms nearby that do well for so much food to be found in one place. The noise grows as chatter, laughter, and squeals of delight fill the air.
The conversation around me is more subdued; hardly anyone says anything. The evening wears on, the sun streaking bright colors across the sky as it goes down. It’s then I notice an anomaly in the crowd.
The innkeeper’s wife is here, staring at me. It wouldn't bother me since there are many people watching me, but she never looks away. Neither does she look happy. A chill on the back of my neck says something isn't as it should be.
I discreetly point her out to Julina, who says, “Maybe she’s making sure she’s ready for when you come back to the inn, but we’ll keep an eye on her.”
Julina whispers to a few other guards, but I’m restless. It’s probably being the center of attention for this long.
The food gives way to dancing and merriment. No one asks me to join in, and though I think about it, I refrain. Last time I danced in a crowd, Daros was spotted. I doubt he would be again, but the thought holds me back.
Another thing to consider is that I can’t touch anyone. This dance is a little different than in Indell. Partners are mostly apart from each other but sometimes come together to hold hands and swing in a circle. If I wanted to dance, I wouldn’t have to hold anyone, but I don’t want to interrupt.
“What do you think of the dancing?” Opla breaks the silence at our table.
“It’s charming,” I say.
“They don’t often have reason to dance. I think it’s good for them.”
“As do I.”
We talk about the city, how the farms are thriving, but the food mostly stays here, not being traded with other towns because of taxes. I didn't realize taxes for trade between cities was so bad. At some point, rulers have deiced that it's better to overcharge the people in everything, rather than trying to get them to be productive and make a better life that way. Not that we can do without taxes all together, but there needs to be some type of happy balance that works for everyone.
Opla goes back to being quiet, and the night wears on. Once darkness creeps in fully, torches are brought out to light up the area.
Finally, it’s time to go back to the inn. I have much to occupy my thoughts.