and the small of her back was slippery-cold with sweat. Angelin was steering
her toward a side door in the palace, and her ladies-in-waiting and guards were screening her most effectively. If Kara had noticed anything – but Kara wasn’t in sight and Miriam
didn’t dare create a scene by looking for her. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Miriam asked, desperately looking for a tactful formula, something to help her steer the
conversation toward waters she was competent to navigate.
‘Perhaps.’ The door opened before them as if by magic, to reveal a small vestibule. Four more guards waited on either side of a thronelike chair. A padded stool sat before it.
‘Please be seated in our presence.’ Two of the guards stepped forward to cradle the old queen’s shoulders, while a third positioned the stool beneath her. ‘Take the chair; I
cannot use it.’
Definitely some kind of autoimmune
– Miriam forced herself to stop thinking. She sat down carefully, grateful for the support.
‘Leave us.’ Angelin’s gimlet stare sent all but two of the guards packing. The last two stood in front of the door, their faces turned to the woodwork but their hands on the
hilts of their swords. The Queen Mother looked back at Miriam. ‘It is seven years since Eloise died,’ said Angelin. ‘And Alexis is not inclined to remarry. He’s got his
heir, and for all his faults, lack of devotion to his wife’s memory is not one of them.’
‘Ah.’ Miriam realized her fingers were digging into her knees, and she forced herself to let go.
‘You can relax. This is not a job interview; nobody is going to offer you the throne,’ Angelin added, so abruptly that Miriam almost choked.
‘But I didn’t want – ’ She brought herself up fast. ‘I’m sorry. You, uh, speak English very well. The vernacular – ’
‘I grew up over there,’ said Angelin, then was silent for almost a minute.
She
grew up
there?
The statement was wholly outrageous, even though the individual words made sense.
Eventually, Angelin began to speak again. ‘The six families have aspired to become seven for almost a century now. I was only eighteen, you know. Back in 1942. Last time the council tried
to capture the throne. They didn’t want me siding with my braid lineage, so they had me brought up in secrecy, in America; it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last. They brought me
back and civilized me then farmed me out to the third son when I came of age. Both his elder brothers subsequently died, in a hunting accident and of a fever, respectively. The council of
landholders – the Landsknee – screamed blue murder and threatened to annul the marriage: but then the six started tearing each other’s guts out in civil war, and that was an end
to the matter, for a generation.’
The lamplight flickered and Miriam felt an icy certainty clutching at her guts. ‘You mean, the Clan?’ she asked. ‘You’re a world-walker?’
‘I
was
.’ Angelin’s eyes were dark hollows in the dim light. ‘Pregnancy changes you, you know. I doubt I’d survive if I tried it, today. My old bones are
not what they were. And I gather the other world has changed, too. But enough about me.’ A withered flicker of a smile: ‘I know your grandmother. She swears by you, you know. Well, she
swears
about
you, but that’s much the same: it means you’re in her thoughts. She’s pigheaded, too.’
‘I don’t see eye to eye with her,’ Helge said tightly. The Duchess Hildegarde had once sent agents to kill or rape her, thinking her an imposter; since proven wrong, she had
subsided into a resentful sulk broken only by expressions of disdain or contempt.
What a loving family we aren’t
.
‘She told me that herself,’ the Queen Mother said dismissively. Her eyes gleamed as she looked directly at Helge. ‘I wanted to see you myself before I made my mind up,’
she said.
‘Made your mind up?’ Miriam could hear her voice rising unpleasantly,
her toward a side door in the palace, and her ladies-in-waiting and guards were screening her most effectively. If Kara had noticed anything – but Kara wasn’t in sight and Miriam
didn’t dare create a scene by looking for her. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Miriam asked, desperately looking for a tactful formula, something to help her steer the
conversation toward waters she was competent to navigate.
‘Perhaps.’ The door opened before them as if by magic, to reveal a small vestibule. Four more guards waited on either side of a thronelike chair. A padded stool sat before it.
‘Please be seated in our presence.’ Two of the guards stepped forward to cradle the old queen’s shoulders, while a third positioned the stool beneath her. ‘Take the chair; I
cannot use it.’
Definitely some kind of autoimmune
– Miriam forced herself to stop thinking. She sat down carefully, grateful for the support.
‘Leave us.’ Angelin’s gimlet stare sent all but two of the guards packing. The last two stood in front of the door, their faces turned to the woodwork but their hands on the
hilts of their swords. The Queen Mother looked back at Miriam. ‘It is seven years since Eloise died,’ said Angelin. ‘And Alexis is not inclined to remarry. He’s got his
heir, and for all his faults, lack of devotion to his wife’s memory is not one of them.’
‘Ah.’ Miriam realized her fingers were digging into her knees, and she forced herself to let go.
‘You can relax. This is not a job interview; nobody is going to offer you the throne,’ Angelin added, so abruptly that Miriam almost choked.
‘But I didn’t want – ’ She brought herself up fast. ‘I’m sorry. You, uh, speak English very well. The vernacular – ’
‘I grew up over there,’ said Angelin, then was silent for almost a minute.
She
grew up
there?
The statement was wholly outrageous, even though the individual words made sense.
Eventually, Angelin began to speak again. ‘The six families have aspired to become seven for almost a century now. I was only eighteen, you know. Back in 1942. Last time the council tried
to capture the throne. They didn’t want me siding with my braid lineage, so they had me brought up in secrecy, in America; it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last. They brought me
back and civilized me then farmed me out to the third son when I came of age. Both his elder brothers subsequently died, in a hunting accident and of a fever, respectively. The council of
landholders – the Landsknee – screamed blue murder and threatened to annul the marriage: but then the six started tearing each other’s guts out in civil war, and that was an end
to the matter, for a generation.’
The lamplight flickered and Miriam felt an icy certainty clutching at her guts. ‘You mean, the Clan?’ she asked. ‘You’re a world-walker?’
‘I
was
.’ Angelin’s eyes were dark hollows in the dim light. ‘Pregnancy changes you, you know. I doubt I’d survive if I tried it, today. My old bones are
not what they were. And I gather the other world has changed, too. But enough about me.’ A withered flicker of a smile: ‘I know your grandmother. She swears by you, you know. Well, she
swears
about
you, but that’s much the same: it means you’re in her thoughts. She’s pigheaded, too.’
‘I don’t see eye to eye with her,’ Helge said tightly. The Duchess Hildegarde had once sent agents to kill or rape her, thinking her an imposter; since proven wrong, she had
subsided into a resentful sulk broken only by expressions of disdain or contempt.
What a loving family we aren’t
.
‘She told me that herself,’ the Queen Mother said dismissively. Her eyes gleamed as she looked directly at Helge. ‘I wanted to see you myself before I made my mind up,’
she said.
‘Made your mind up?’ Miriam could hear her voice rising unpleasantly,
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