Bloodguard

chapter 21

Maeve

“What must be done to win?” I ask the next day.

I’m in the north wing of the castle, the section that houses the barracks and the war chambers for the lieutenants and generals.

It’s a miracle Soro isn’t here.

A guard with thick red hair looks around, her blue eyes darting left and right. The squat man next to her does, too. Though we’re in a quiet antechamber, that doesn’t mean that other guards or captains won’t walk in.

I’m taking a huge risk—they are, too.

I pass along two heavy pouches of gold. One for each of them.

The female guard pauses. “We can’t take bribes. The Gaming Commission would behead us if we’re caught tampering with the games.”

That punishment is tame compared to what Soro would do.

“It’s not a bribe, merely a gesture of appreciation. I’m the future queen, after all. Should I not know what spectacle will be hosted in my arena?” I pull a third pouch of gold from beneath my cloak. “Such loyalty will be rewarded further when I rule.”

That’s not entirely true. If they can be bribed now, I should not expect them to be loyal to me in the future.

The two guards share another look.

I hold my ground and keep my chin high. My grandmother taught me to look and act the part of queen. And by the stars, I will.

The man finally snatches the gold and shoves it beneath his tunic. “We don’t know much, only that there’s something foul in there. We’ve never seen it, but I hear it from its cell. Its screams… They ain’t right, Princess. Never heard anything like it before, and by the phoenix I hope I never hafta again.”

That sounds…just awful. How does Soro sleep at night? I sigh. Probably with Aisling. “Thank you,” I say.

The next game will pose a problem. If even the arena guards don’t recognize this creature—and they’ve seen just about every monstrosity this continent has to offer—how am I to prepare Leith to fight it?

“General Soro has many battles planned,” the woman adds, giving the antechamber another cursory glance. “There will be a number of low-level games this week, mainly throwing the criminals in, letting them kill each other.” She pauses and smirks. “But that’s not who you care about, is it?”

I did make a spectacle of myself during Leith’s last match, but I don’t like what this guard is implying or how she thinks it’s acceptable to take such liberties by speaking this way to me.

I lift my chin higher. “I care about all of Arrow.” I look down my nose at her. “You should, too. If you are to be of any use to me.”

I level each of them with a cold stare and then stalk away.

Outwardly, I’m perfectly calm. But inside, I’m seething.

I keep my steps measured and my expression even. I’m done hiding. I’m finished with playing at niceties while innocent people like Sullivan die and gladiators like Leith suffer.

While my father rots in prison.

I know he didn’t kill my grandmother, and though we’ve been down this road, now, more than ever, I must uncover the truth.

I stomp to the main hall, teeth gritted, and slam the doors open with my palms. When several heads turn upon my entrance, I pause and collect myself. The need for decorum drilled into me by my grandmother settles my features into a practiced, serene smile.

Servants dip into bows and curtsies. Others act like they neither saw nor heard me enter.

The castle is torn in its alliances. There are those who still treat me as the princess I am and others who stare through me as though I don’t exist.

But as the daughter of the Queen Killer, I’ve come to expect this.

They think me unworthy to rule because of the accusations against my papa. Some even whisper that he acted with the express purpose of stealing Queen Avianna’s throne for his beloved daughter. They are fools. They’re so eager to believe in the kind of treachery that they themselves would commit, they ignore the fact that Grandmother was already raising me to take her place someday. That there was no need to steal a throne soon to be willingly given. I know the politics and policies of this land. I’ve been training to lead Arrow my entire life, and nobody is going to stop me.

Chin high, I stride through the grand main hall with its vaulted ceiling and murals and tapestries lining the walls. The floor is a beautiful, polished onyx, with dark veins and swirling lines in the translucent stone. Giselle and I used to skip across it as children, hopping and racing from line to branching line to see who was faster.

A group of wizards is in the library. Dignitaries from other large city-states like Arrow stop to stare at me, not bothering to bow as I pass them. Some are Canvolish, others from Caelen’s birthplace of Tunder. They’ve known me for years. There was a time when they would’ve stopped and chatted with me. But they see me as powerless now, and therefore useless. No matter. They will come to regret this…change of heart.

Several enter the lounge where breakfast is being served, barely sparing me a second glance. Each of the thirteen halls in this part of the castle will be occupied by now or filling up soon with meetings ranging from festival planning to taxes to foreign treaties.

I wonder what Leith will think when he sees the undertakings of Arrow. Regardless of the efforts of me and my family, I think he believes that all royals laze about every day, eating and drinking and searching out our next form of entertainment.

I glide into hall four, one of the rooms reserved for military planning. I am not surprised to see Uncle Vitor. He smiles. By his side, General Tut stands stiffly at attention.

“Maeve,” Soro says, his voice as slick as an eel. “I was expecting you sooner.”

I am late because I rode into the city this morning with Giselle, Father, and a contingent of Caelen’s guards. Caelen may be a colonel of Arrow’s militia and first son of a high-ranking family, but his loyalty is first to me. And my sister. Their relationship is special…even if it can never be what they deserve.

“My apologies,” I say to Soro, not that I owe him one. I address the others present in this room. “Forgive me, esteemed council members.”

Vitor scoffs. “She was here sooner. Before she went about her tasks in the city this morning. After she visited the new development Lord Jakeb has undertaken, dispensing clothes and food to those who just moved in.”

My uncle is right, and although my routine varies, I work every day—usually out in the communities of Arrow—aiding in the areas that need it. Not that it’s elevated me in power or otherwise.

Had my grandmother not perished and Papa not been sentenced to an eternity in the dungeon, the responsibilities I bear for this kingdom may have been praised, or at the very least noticed.

But she did die.

Regardless, I am still the rightful heir to this throne. And once I become queen, the people in this room will answer to me.

“Uncle, a new caravan of immigrants arrived this morning,” I say, squaring my shoulders and forcing the leaders in this room to listen.

“Why did you let them into Arrow?” Soro huffs.

Our policy has always been to maintain an open flow of trade and peoples in and out of Arrow, given the lack of abundance beyond our walls. I don’t bother reminding Soro.

I continue, “The outskirts along the western border are becoming more cramped—”

“That shouldn’t be our problem,” he says to Vitor and not me.

“It is if they reside in Arrow,” I counter.

Soro rounds on me. “It wouldn’t be if we stop letting them in!”

I pretend he doesn’t exist. It’s not hard. “There’s a large, abandoned warehouse close to the city where they used to mill corn. I’d like to oversee construction to create more apartments within. If we can avoid overpopulating those regions, we can limit the risks of disease and fire.”

Vitor is in long, blue, formal robes, his dark hair braided tightly. He frowns at something Lord Ugeen, that ass-kisser who cheats on his many ex-wives, whispers into his ear, all while staring at me. Ugeen is an odious human with a shaved head and round belly, and his beady green eyes narrow on mine. He should know better than to insult me before Vitor. He’s trying to either convince Vitor I am his enemy or goad me into believing I’ve lost Vitor’s favor. It’s all I can do not to kick him in the groin.

He’s been a raging knob since I declined his proposal. Vitor is not a fan of Ugeen, either, so I don’t understand why the vile man is even here.

I clear my throat. “Uncle? What do you think of my suggestion?”

Tut, the ogren general in charge of surveillance, rumbles a laugh. He goes as far as leaning over to the other ogren general, Pua, who’s charged with overseeing special operations, just to whisper something in his ear.

They’re not talking about me. They’d never be that foolish.

What they are doing is behaving as if I hadn’t said a word. My stomach sinks, and anger makes my face heat.

Tut was always kind to me, even as a child, but now? Is he like the others who only see a young woman playing advisor until it’s time for her dismissal?

It’s been like this since Leith beheaded my fiancé. Everyone knows it’s unlikely I find another royal fiancé to take the throne back except Soro, and he would see that I was given even less respect as his queen. One more reason I need to put on a genteel smile and focus on helping Leith for the time being.

I blink up at Vitor innocently. “Uncle?”

Vitor continues to frown, but any anger he holds, he directs at Ugeen. I wait and wait some more. Finally, Vitor speaks. “Take what you need in terms of supplies,” he says. “But as of today, our borders will be closely monitored for suspicious activity, and all who seek entry will be vetted by our soldiers first.”

“What type of suspicious activity?” I ask. Like me, the others taking up every square inch of space, save Soro, can’t mask their surprise.

Soro offers a placating grin and all but tells me to run along. “Maeve, we’ve told you time and time again, everyone is jealous of Arrow.” He adjusts the white-and-blue medal of honor pinned to the chest of his uniform. “Can you blame them?”

I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about himself.

“Where are Lord Jakeb and the Lady Giselle?” Soro asks, changing the subject.

I swallow the argument about the activity along the perimeter rising in my throat. Vitor prides himself on order and discipline. Arguing with him, especially in front of others, will not accomplish anything. “Lord Jakeb is overseeing the new construction in town.”

Father seldom spends his days in the castle anymore. I don’t want to announce that he had a harder time than usual after his most recent visit with Papa. He left to spend yet another day helping with the construction of low-cost residential spaces in New Arrow. It was Papa’s passion project, and Father is determined to complete it on his behalf.

Vitor’s mouth turns down the way it does when something concerns him. Then he gives a short jerk of his head as though affirming something for himself before coming around the table to stand beside me.

It may be a small show of solidarity, but declaring the borders functionally closed clearly favored Soro.

“What reports have we received, Lord Regent?” I ask, peering down at the large map of the regions surrounding Arrow.

He points to the middle of our southern border but speaks to Pua, who is more than happy to sneer my way. “Mudslides, all through here, here, and there.”

“How bad?” I ask, since Pua doesn’t. “The area has received nearly twice its annual rainfall already.”

Vitor purses his lips. “At least a quarter of the riverfront flooded, and a quarter more was destroyed when the mud and debris swept down the mountain bordering the River Tre.”

“That’s a densely populated area,” I say. “And the floods will impact their harvest.”

Lord Ugeen places his hand on Vitor’s shoulder. “It’s true, my lord,” he says, posturing as if he were the one who spoke. “They will be severely impacted.”

Ugeen is not a general. He has no post or position. He is the head of House Olgden. He’s wealthy and owns mills and controls the mountain shipping routes to the west, but he’s never taken an interest in policy like this.

Vitor gestures to a segment of our northwestern border. “Here, fires burned through large swathes of farmland on both sides of the border, though the Liburi settlements fared far worse than our own.”

The thought of a raging fire sends a wallop of anxiety through my chest. I idly run my fingers over the scars on my jaw, but instead of recalling the pain, I recall how Leith caressed my face as if no more than a freckle marred my skin.

Tut taps the map. “It’s as Lord Kaysoon said. Libur lost a great portion of its crops.”

I recall the dwarf lord and the hardships he conveyed at the Summer Ball. We sold him rice and legumes at a profit. If Libur is beset by fires now, too, they’ll be in dire shape.

The fires are along Arrow’s borders.

I clear my throat. “How did the fire start?” I ask.

Soro surprises me by answering and jolts me back to the moment. “Don’t you mean who started it?” He huffs yet again. “All this ‘help’ you insisted on sending—water, food, those stupid children’s schoolbooks?—didn’t solidify alliances. This Liburi scum wants what we have. They’re tired of the handouts and want to be the ones handing out.”

“How do we know this is what’s happening?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.

Soro seethes. “Because I just fucking told you.”

My grandmother’s words whisper through my mind. Do not ever let them see weakness or anger. You will be queen one day. “Forgive me, General Soro. I meant to ask what evidence you have,” I say, the diplomatic composure trained into me fully in place. “Present it so I may confront Eliana and Pralin. I’ve known both ambassadors for years.”

Vitor waits for an answer. The rest of us do, too.

“It’s a hunch,” Soro finally says. “A strong one that this was an intentional crime.”

“But who committed the crime?” I ask, pointing to the map. “Who specifically ? Say this was an attack from the outside—does it not seem a greater threat to Libur than to Arrow?” I cock my head to the side as if asking out of genuine curiosity, then shrug when he remains silent. “Regardless, if the fire was set intentionally, as you suggest, we must discover by whom and for what purpose this act of terror was undertaken so we can take measures to prevent it going forward.”

I glance up. “Uncle Vitor, ought General Pua take ten of his officers in plain clothing and see what they may find in Libur? If this was an attack on Arrow, those involved will surely brag about their actions or perhaps use our comparatively minimal damage—though life-shattering for the affected citizens—as fuel for propaganda to bring more rebels to their cause. Also, kindly send response teams at General Tut’s command to the areas affected by the landslides and fires and let us determine the resources they’ll need so that, if your High Lord wishes, General Tut’s designees may take as many supplies as you recommend.” I am speaking with an authority most in this room do not believe I possess. I can only hope my uncle feels differently.

Vitor appears bored. But then he nods and smiles. “You heard the princess,” he says. “Set the plan in motion.” He doesn’t say set her plan in motion. It’s purposeful. I know it is. At least, given how he’s treated me, I know it is now. But I don’t care. Not if it means we extend our help.

Tut nods at me respectfully right before he bows regally to Vitor. I get it now. He wanted action, not assumptions. So did Vitor.

Did Soro really think we’d declare war on a neighbor because of his hunch? For three years, he has been the one to beat into me the importance of “evidence” in order to set my father free.

“That will be all. We adjourn until noon,” Vitor says.

The room starts to clear. But the council and foreign delegates are scarcely out the door before Vitor whirls on his son. “You call a meeting to say we’re under attack, ready to go avenge Arrow when you don’t even know the culprit!” He slaps his hand on the war table. “You know better, Soro. When will you stop acting the fool and think through your next steps?”

Soro clenches his hands, hatred for his father reddening his face. “I would have found out,” Soro hisses. “All I needed was your word to get there.”

Vitor shakes his head. “And then you bring that jester Ugeen into the meeting. For what ? Fool,” he says again.

Soro glares at his father, then turns and steps into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

I’m the last person who would defend Soro, but I can’t help but wonder if this is the best way to go about curbing him.

“Uncle,” I begin, speaking softly. “Why do you humiliate Soro this way, in front of the people he’s meant to lead?” It’s true. I despise Soro. That doesn’t mean I agree with how Vitor treats him. “I would think they need to respect him as their new High General of Arrow, ever since you became regent.”

“Respect is earned, my darling daughter, as you earn it by helping and treating our people.” He runs his hand down his tight braid. “My son attempts to earn it in the brothels.” He reaches for the platter of fruit at the corner of the table and snags a handful of grapes. He chews angrily. “Bah,” he says. “Enough of this. Tell me something good.”

“Father’s reconstruction project continues at a rapid pace. You should see—”

“I know your father’s skills, Maeve. I also make it a point to tour the new buildings.”

Of course he does. The Regent of Arrow must take credit for it, after all.

“Has your gladiator survived?” he asks.

My gladiator. I really wish to speak of anything but Leith. “He is still recovering. The wounds and envenomation were severe. It’s far too early to tell…”

Vitor nods thoughtfully. “I hope he makes it. He’s an inspiration for Arrow. Our people need something to believe in…”

I was going to say it’s too early to tell “how long he’ll take to heal fully,” but if Vitor believes that Leith is still close to death, it might buy him more recovery time.

In the back of my mind, I’m reminded of Aisling’s words about Bloodguards. How only the ones approved by Vitor make it to the finish. By Vitor’s words, I hope Leith has his approval.

“I’m glad you think he can inspire our people, Uncle,” I feel compelled to say.

“I look forward to meeting him,” Vitor tells me. But something in his deep tone carries a warning that punctures my heart with wicked cold. Even as he smiles.