“Nothing.” Raesinia sighed. “That’s the problem, really.”
Cora was the only one Raesinia had thus far told about what she and Marcus had shared. For Cora, it was storybook romance, plain and simple, the queen and heroic general and a love for the ages. Sometimes Raesinia agreed with her. When she looked back on that night, the horrible moment when she’d thought he’d turned her down, the first, tentative kiss, it made her feel warm and giddy both at once. The feeling of having done something unspeakably dangerous and survived. And there were times, looking at Marcus, when she wanted to grab hold of him and never let go.
Somehow, when they actually met, things were always more complicated. Marcus was... polite. Always polite, always courteous, and always just the slightest bit distant. Even when they managed to get out of sight for a few moments to steal a kiss, it was so careful. It was as though, having admitted their love for each other, they were each waiting for the other to make the next move.
“It’s Ohnlei,” Raesinia said. “Something about this place. I grew up here, and being back makes me... remember who I am. And I think it reminds Marcus of the same thing.”
“You need to tell everyone,” Cora said. “You don’t have to sneak around behind your parents’ backs. You’re the queen.”
“It’s not that simple,” Raesinia said. “Things are fragile right now. Marcus is a hero, and he’s the highest-?ranking officer in the army. If I announce that we’re—?engaged, the Deputies-?General might think I’m trying to secure my authority and displace them.”
“You love him, and you’re worried about what the Deputies will think?”
“And the people. The press. Other countries.” Raesinia gave a wan smile. “That’s what it means, being queen.”
Besides, she thought, it isn’t like he’s pushing to take things further. It wasn’t as though she wanted Marcus to toss her on the bed and tear her dress off—?not really, I suppose—?but she had to admit she would have appreciated a little more evidence of... interest. Maybe it’s that I look closer to Cora’s age than his. She always pushed that thought away, but it came back every time she saw herself in the mirror.
Cora flopped down next to her on the narrow bed and put an arm around her shoulders. Raesinia felt faintly ridiculous—?here’s the Queen of Vordan, weighed down with boy troubles, being comforted by the Deputy Minister of Finance—?but she leaned against Cora’s shoulder nonetheless.
“It’ll be all right,” Cora said. “Things will calm down eventually.”
“How long do I have, though?” Raesinia’s voice was a whisper. “Before someone starts asking questions. Five years? Ten?”
“You’ll deal with it when they do,” Cora said. “I’ll help, and so will Marcus.”
“Thanks.” Raesinia took a deep breath. “And you’re right. Once the treaty is signed, Marcus and I will have to... move forward.”
“Or,” Cora said, “when he comes over tonight, you could—”
She whispered the rest, like a guilty schoolgirl, and Raesinia laughed out loud. “Can you imagine the look on his face?”
“All too easily,” Cora said. She puffed out her cheeks and lowered her voice. “Hum, hum. I hardly think that’s appropriate, Your Highness.”
“He’s not that bad,” Raesinia said, still laughing. “He’s just... cautious.”
There was a knock at the door, and Eric’s voice came from outside. “Your Highness?”
“Damn.” Raesinia gave Cora a squeeze. “Thanks. Really. Being queen is a little suffocating sometimes.”
“We could always sneak out, like in the old days. I hear they’ve rebuilt the Blue Mask.”
“Are you sure you’re old enough for that?”
They dissolved into laughter again, ignoring Eric’s plaintive voice for a few moments longer.
*
Thank God for Cora. With Sothe gone, there was no one else Raesinia could talk to honestly. It felt like a clean breath after a smoke-?shrouded room.
“Deputy d’Andorre will be waiting,” Eric complained as they walked quickly through the corridors of the palace.
“It won’t kill him to wait for the queen,” Raesinia said.
“It might annoy him,” Eric said. “And we need his help. While the Liberals hold the balance of the Deputies, d’Andorre is in charge.”
“As much as anyone is.” The Liberals were less a political party than a menagerie of tiny factions, united only by their dislike of the old, entrenched structures of power. They had emerged as the leading force mostly by default—?the Conservatives had been broken with the fall of the Directory, and the Radicals, opposed to the war, had seen their support wither as the tide turned in Vordan’s favor. “D’Andorre can’t keep his own people in line, much less unite the rest.”
“He’s still very influential.”
“I know.” Raesinia sighed. “I’ll apologize, all right?”
There were a variety of royal receiving rooms, where the monarch could meet anyone from a peasant to a full delegation from a foreign court. This was one of the less ostentatious ones, the furniture expensive but not gilded, the walls hung with portraits of kings past. Raesinia spent a moment in the small anteroom making sure she still looked presentable, then bustled in with Joanna and Barely in her wake.
“Deputy d’Andorre!”
He stood smoothly from the sofa and gave her a deep bow. Fashion among the Liberals had tended toward the patriotic of late, and d’Andorre was dressed accordingly in a sober, dark blue suit with silver piping and an almost military cut. He was a short, solidly built man with wings of gray in his hair and a fashionable queue. By the standards of the new Vordanai politics, Chrest d’Andorre was an elder statesman, having survived the rough-?and-?tumble of the Deputies since the very beginning, mostly by not being important enough to notice. The Liberals had a reputation for being more interested in abstract political philosophy than in taking power, which had kept them safely out of the fray during the revolution and the Directory’s attempted coup. Now that the wheel of politics had come full circle, Raesinia wondered what d’Andorre would do with his newfound authority.
“Your Highness.”
“I apologize if you were kept waiting.” The passive non-?apology, an ever-?useful tool of statecraft. My old tutors would be proud. “Please, sit.”
She took a chair opposite the sofa, and d’Andorre sat stiffly across from her.
“I don’t intend to take up much of your time, Your Highness,” he said. “I’ll be frank. My constituents—?and many of my colleagues in the Deputies—?have urged me to come and ask certain questions directly. I have enormous respect for the Crown, so I have been hesitant, but our deliberations have reached a point where your position must be made clear.”