“I possess strong sight and hearing.” There was a note of irony in his voice. “Unlike some people, I don’t let pride dull them.”
“Do you value reason more than pride?”
“I value reasonandpride.”
“Then you leave because pride won’t let you stayandbecause reason tells you that Lizaar doesn’t need your protection?”
This time Ashared hesitated before answering. “I never wanted to be a guardsman,” he said, watching her with a strange tension. “But I don’t intend to leave the city yet. Lizaar invited me to spend the winter here even before you Challenged her. If you allow it, I would like to take it.”
The disappointment Lannahi felt at the thought that he would leave dissolved, turning into a slow river of something she didn’t want to name.
She ignored it.
“And you will stay here as who?” she asked. “Her friend or spy?”
“Her cousin,” he admitted after two heartbeats. When he realized that this information didn’t make an impression on her, the corners of his mouth tipped up. “But it seems you’ve already assumed we are related.”
Trying not to attach importance to the fact that healmostsmiled, she noted, “A cousin does not exclude a spy.”
“Do you want me to make a vow?”
“It wouldn’t do any harm.”
“I am not a spy. I swear.”
The information he shared with her confirmed her assumptions, but the ease with which Ashared made his vow was the real surprise and Lannahi struggled to keep the mask of indifference on her face.
“Good to know,” she said, sending him another perfunctory smile. “Will you also swear to me that during your stay you will not plan or participate in plots or attacks designed to deprive me of power or harm me or any of my allies?”
Ashared was silent for a while, considering her words carefully, but he found no trap in them and eventually repeated them as a vow.
Lannahi too didn’t hurry with a reply, but despite her effort, like him, she didn’t see his request as an imminent danger.
“Stay then,” she said finally. “As Lizaar’s cousin and my guest.”
***
Since it was too early to ask the landshapers to swear an oath of loyalty, the one Lannahi demanded of the palace residents sounded similar to the one she’d asked of Ashared except that the clause determining the time was: “As long as you bear the title of Queen of Goldfrost.” She was tempted to use the word “never,” but “always” and “never” brought a cold sweat to anyone who was about to utter any declaration involving them, and Lannahi suspected that it would stick in the throats of those present in the throne room. She didn’t worry about it, though. Even the greatest Rulers rarely heard lifelong vows.
The ceremony was simple, with no musicians and the prospect of a sumptuous feast. No one was in a celebratory mood. Lannahi herself would have been happy to cut the formalities to a minimum and let everyone say their oath together, but she couldn’t afford an oversight of a silent rebel so the landshapers stood before the throne one at a time or in pairs.
Lizaar kept an upright bearing, though the fire in her eyes had dimmed and her voice was devoid of previous defiant notes. Lannahi wasn’t going to make a spectacle of her, though, and accepted her oath with a polite nod.
The guards, headed by Kalahadd, treated the oath as a necessary evil and took it with grim severity. They avoided looking at Lizaar and each other.
The reactions of servants were more varied. Gannar spat out the oath. Eshshar placed special emphasis on the words “as long as you bear the title of Queen of Goldfrost.” Nuur struggled to meet her eye.
Lannahi knew a few of the fae by name, some only by their face, but there were many she didn’t recognize at all. She was dizzy from trying to remember all their names and gave up eventually. She was glad she had Souhi take detailed notes of the procession.
Baddur and Varrdan were absent, but Lannahi wasn’t surprised by this. She knew that they were loyal first and foremost to Mahrur, not to his daughter. She planned later to compare Souhi’s notes with the list of residents that Lizaar had presented her with in the first week of her arrival in Goldfrost. She was prepared to issue an eviction order to all who refused to take the oath, but in the case of these two, she had to defer judgement. She didn’t know how Baddur would react to Varrdan’s eviction, and she wasn’t sure what kind of esteem he enjoyed among the soldiers who were a part of the City Guard. She intended to find a replacement, but for the time being, she had no valid candidate and couldn’t risk any gaps in the city’s security.
Nazarr and Eder were not officially informed about the ceremony. Lannahi knew they were spies and there was no point in pressing them. As long as their actions were limited to observation, Lannahi didn’t plan on making life difficult for them. She needed them to ensure their handler that Lizaar was treated well. She couldn’t risk false rumors reaching the ears of Lizaar’s powerful brother and father.
After the ceremony, Lannahi returned to her chamber to change and then went out to the snow-covered terrace located on the roof of the palace. She left the guards with orders not to let anyone in there. She needed to be alone.
The Royal Sabbath was tomorrow. She’d been reluctant to attend especially now after Lizaar’s failed coup. How would Sarkal and Asirri react when they saw her short hair and the dressing on her forehead? How would Letiri comment on it? And Maal? Lizaar’s father? Everyone else? It was too early to delude herself that her presence or lack thereof wouldn’t be a sensation. Whatever she decided, she would have to face the consequences.
Lannahi paced the terrace several times, but despite the fresh air and the view of the blue sky stretching high above her head, she felt like she was trapped in a cage. She was exhausted by the responsibilities of the crown. She was afraid to make a mistake.
