Queen & Conqueror (The Queens Red Guard Book 1), page 30
Beltran’s worry when she fainted with the damn headpiece was a surprise. Her bright face as she danced in her father’s arms. Beltran treated her like an equal and he was flummoxed with the notion. Therefore, he held his tongue. Therefore, he urged Poelia away, because he always assumed Beltran was a cursed, evil creature, and to see him as such was confusing at best.
There was no way of winning in such a situation. Either way, the sins of the past colored all they did in the present.
When the escort arrived, he aided Poelia into the carriage. She looked content and at peace. At last, he managed to repay his debt. She kissed his cheek and thanked him, and Almira watched him with those wide, black eyes. She took his offered hand, and her skin was so warm and inviting he almost dropped it. She grasped his hand before she let go and squeezed his fingers, then disappeared into the carriage. He watched her, transfixed when Captain Sanaa stepped in behind her queen. Not before sending him a sneer.
He stalked to his horse and jumped on the beast. “I’ll ride ahead.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ALMIRA
It was a quiet ride back to the castle and Almira’s thoughts were a raging sea. Her grandmother, her father, her husband–it was a cacophony of thoughts and emotions. She wanted to bask in the discovery of Poelia and allow her heart to soar for the actions of her husband, but her anger built and slithered through her veins.
She looked to her hand, the same hand Alton grasped. He married her to bring her to Poelia and he refused to bed her until she knew the truth. A soothing warmth filled her.
“Were you happy in Suid?” Poelia asked.
“I was. Lord Edgar was good to me.”
“Well, that is good. Sometimes when there’s too much of an age difference it can be difficult,” her grandmother said.
“Yes, I was seventeen when I married him, and he was a grown man. A kind man, he was patient and careful with me.” Almira smiled.
Poelia looked at her curiously. “Careful?”
“He wanted to make sure I was happy and comfortable. I was young and naïve.” Almira recalled the girl she was, eager to marry the High Lord. How she admired him, how she adored him and his tall wide frame.
“You loved him?” her grandmother asked after a while.
Almira considered her first husband and how she yearned for him, how she delighted in his return from war. The warmth of his body covering her during their couplings. The way she learned his favorite meals and how he would comment on her doting.
“Yes. In my own way.”
Ley Wallace, M, and Delara waited for them at the castle gates when the carriage arrived. Sanaa took the guard to the side and she whispered quiet words of explanation as Ley Wallace aided Poelia.
“My lady, allow me,” Ley Wallace said.
“The king?” Almira asked.
Ley Wallace assured that Poelia was steady on the cobblestones and turned to the queen. “He has made us aware of the changes and Keeper Nadim is personally taking care to find the appropriate room for the lady, majesty.”
“In the lower levels. Near the gardens perhaps?” Almira pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. The morning had turned chilly.
The Ley sagely nodded. “An excellent idea.”
Her grandmother reached for her hand. “But I would like to be close to you, my dear.”
Almira shook her head and smiled. “My rooms are on the top floors; it would be a tiring climb.”
Poelia’s face fell and the reality of climbing stairs each day filled her eyes. “I forget my age sometimes.”
The servants prepared for the day. Windows needed to be opened and food needed to be started. There was roast hog for dinner and a pig was being prepared out back but got away from his handler. It ran, making loud squeals within the training ground; four servants attempted to catch it while the soldiers laughed heartily. It was a welcome distraction to avoid curious eyes as they climbed to her chambers. The hearth was blazing when they arrived and Sanaa helped Almira settle Poelia in a comfortable chair by the fire.
“The chill gets in one’s bones when you’re old,” Poelia said.
Almira draped a wool throw over her lap. “Rest for a bit, you’ll be comfortable.”
The queen turned to Sanaa who lingered by the door and quietly gave her careful instructions.
“Cuzo,” Sanaa hissed.
“It’s not in my nature to forgive,” Almira said between clenched teeth as she shook her head.
Sanaa left and they were undisturbed, allowing them to slumber for a few hours. Nadim later came with lunch and laid it out grandiosely for them. When they finished their meal, Almira excused herself to direct her guard.
She spoke to M with urgency. “Bring me my seamstress, but don’t enter until I tell you, you understand?”
M nodded and departed as Almira walked to her grandmother with a smile and braced herself for the coming news.
“Nadim has rekindled the fire, let us sit here for a while. There is something I wish to tell you,” Almira said.
Poelia smiled, warm and comfortable in the chair. Almira knelt and took her hands, which were leathery with age.
“You make me quite happy,” her grandmother said.
Almira forced a smile. “I’m glad. Now, there is something you need to know. When I was little, mama spoke to me of a woman who used to dress you. Your seamstress. She made you the most unique and elegant gowns.”
Poelia’s face twisted and she turned to the fire. It made her eyes look like polished marbles, a flame dancing in the pit-less black.
“Hester,” Almira said.
Poelia took a sharp breath, her mouth etched in pain, woven like a tapestry. “I haven’t heard her name in many years. She belonged to my past life.”
Almira studied her, hesitant in her words. “Did you love her?”
The elder fidgeted and ran her fingers over her gown, adverting her gaze. There was fear in her, Almira could understand. In days of old, same-sex attraction was a taboo the younger generation didn’t subscribe to. Lovers were parted and punished in a public display; she’d read horrific stories in her father’s scrolls. Her father was never like that. He overturned many of the laws his grandparents created and his own parents adhered to.
“I won’t judge you before the sea gods. Time has passed and people are accepting of things they were not before,” Almira urged her.
Poelia bit her lip and grasped the queen’s hands. “He burned her. After he raped me. I only saw her body after she died. He made sure he burned her close enough to my quarters so I could hear her screams and smell her flesh melting.”
Almira’s stomach recoiled. “He was an evil man.”
Poelia almost gasped. “He was your grandfather.”
It mattered little. A wrongdoing was a wrongdoing, it didn’t matter that she came from his blood. A person chose how they would behave, and she would call out his deeds for what they were.
“He was evil! He lived and died in honor. In honor his memory rests in the halls of our people but I shall strip that from him. I shall have his name stricken from the white stone of the city and let the history scrolls tell what he did.”
Almira realized her grandmother was right. She was fire. Hester was also right; she strongly resembled her father. The restlessness of the fierce ocean flowed through her, and her anger could destroy the world.
“I don’t mean to scare you,” Almira said.
Her grandmother touched a strand of her hair in near admiration. “How did you hold this back? Surely Lord Edgar never saw this.”
No. Edgar never saw her angry. She was controlled around him, and he never rattled her enough to erupt the angry viper. If she ever made a passionate statement, he would smile and nod and tell her he was no one to argue with such a fervent entreaty. As if he patted her head like a good girl and dismissed her remarks as nothing more than the fancy of women.
“Edgar was a kind–”
“Yes, a kind man, I know. But you held yourself back. You knew your place and you acted on it, which makes you smart. But his death gave you autonomy and permission to act as you wished.”
Almira shook her head. “I only wanted to stop the loss of life. What good is life if we’re constantly taking it away from each other?”
Poelia smiled. “It makes sense that Alton is quite taken with you.”
Almira flushed. “He’s not.”
“You forget, I’ve known him since he was a boy. I’m not saying you need to love him, he’s a difficult man to love. What I’m saying is that if he does love you and respect you for all that you are, you would be wise to appreciate it. Not all of us have been so lucky in our husbands.”
The idea of the king being taken with her was ridiculous. He wouldn’t even bed her. She thought of his antagonizing words each dinner, how he stared at her with anger and hatred. He called her a dragon. She wanted him afraid of her, she wanted to roar at him, and he took it quite well without being affronted at her behavior. He saw her for what she was. She didn’t know why she wanted him afraid of her. It was as if his words when they first met began a pattern she couldn’t control.
“I didn’t mean to distress you,” Poelia said.
Almira shook the thoughts of Alton off; she couldn’t dwell on her husband now.
“You didn’t. It’s been a long and trying day. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I must confess something.” Almira considered her words. “Who Lord Rais burned that day, was not Hester. I don’t know what poor soul it was, but he didn’t kill Hester. She didn’t die. She is alive.”
Poelia’s lashes trembled. “It cannot be, child.”
“I know this because Captain Sanaa searched for her at my bidding. It took her four months and finally she found her.” Almira held tight to her grandmother’s hands as she weighed her words and nodded in reassurance. “She is alive. And she is here.”
Poelia let go of her hands and grasped her face. She shook violently. Perhaps Almira shouldn’t have told her; she should’ve waited. She filled a cup with water from the basin and pressed it against Poelia’s hand, but she shook her off.
“I’m sorry, Nanai!”
Nanai, a word Almira always wanted to use. Ancient Suidian for mother of my mother.
“I didn’t want you upset!” Almira cried.
Nanai lowered her hands and cried. “Upset? Hester is alive, I have you–you, my darling, fierce girl–and Hester is alive and here! You found her!”
Nanai pressed her hands to her own chest, and Almira held on to her shoulders. The shock was too much.
“I didn’t know what she was to you until she told me. I brought her with me to be my seamstress.”
She gasped and looked at Almira’s gown. Her hands reverently touched the sleeve of the queen’s fine dress. “Hester’s fingers were here. Hester’s been in this room?”
Almira smiled. “Yes, constantly.”
Nanai sobbed, openly and without shame. Her mouth wide as she pounded her chest thrice. Suidian for pain, pain that loses meaning in words, pain that shatters one’s soul, pain beyond reckoning.
Almira embraced her and Poelia clutched onto the dress as she rocked herself, an attempt to shake the agony. When her tears were spent, Almira knelt before her and took her face in her hands. Beyond Nanai’s weathered skin she found the resemblance of her mother, what Almira could never see in her own face.
“She loves you dearly, Nanai, she still does. Your memory haunts her. I wanted to ensure you felt the same for her.”
Poelia teetered between a laugh and a cry. “The same? I saw her from my windows the day they brought her to our house. I’d never seen hair so blond. I was enchanted by her, and I tried to show off so she would look at me. In desperation, I requested for her to measure me so I could be in the same room as her.” Poelia shakily wiped tears from her face. “He made me believe it was her that screamed in agony as she burned... you were right, he was an evil man. He broke me that day and I don’t know what I’ve been since.”
Almira took her in her arms and Poelia clutched tightly to the dress made by Hester’s fingers.
A knock came and Poelia startled. “Don’t let Alton see me this way, he wouldn’t understand."
“It is not the king, and give him credit, he would love you regardless.” As Almira said the words, she knew them to be true. Alton didn’t judge others in such a way, she knew as much. “It’s Hester. And she is here.”
Poelia stood and, with a crooked hand, she patted her braids. “Oh, I’m old.”
Almira laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “Nanai, you’re beautiful still!”
“You say that because I’m your grandmother, but you don’t know how I looked. Call me vain, I can bear that, but I cannot bear Hester being disappointed in what I’ve become.”
Almira made her look at her. “Time has passed, I cannot change that, not with all my power. I know I’m young still, and life’s lessons still await me. But what I do know, what I’m willing to bet my kingdom on, is that Hester loves you. She never stopped.”
Nanai stared at her in awe. “Lend me some of your bravery, my girl.”
“Don’t you realize how brave you are? You could’ve died, you could’ve let him kill you, but you escaped, you hid, and you survived. That is bravery.” Almira held her gaze one final time and then walked to the door. “Come in.”
M opened the door with hesitancy and allowed Hester to enter. The seamstress scowled at the queen.
“You missed our morning appointment. I was not allowed to enter, my lady.” Hester glanced annoyed at M who stood passive and unshaken.
“Welcome, Hester. M, thank you.”
M bowed and closed the door. Hester looked at the queen in displeasure and Almira fought the urge not to look pleased.
“I have someone who would like to see you.” She swept her hand to the fireplace.
Hester’s face reddened. Almira knew she wanted to say a snide remark, but she turned to the fireplace. Slowly, Hester registered the sight of Poelia. Her face became a myriad of emotions and Almira feared she also gave Hester too much of a shock. The seamstress jumbled between confusion, understanding, and finally, awe.
“Hester!” Nanai whispered.
Hester limped tentatively towards her then stopped. She turned to Almira with wide eyes. She looked a hunched madwoman, old and angry and unwilling to believe any good could come out of life.
“It seems both of you were misled about each other’s fate,” Almira said and smiled.
Hester looked at Poelia then back at the queen as if for the first time she truly saw her.
“Be good to her, Hester. She’s the grandmother of a queen.”
Hester took a sharp breath and sobbed. “I will, your majesty.”
Almira walked away. Behind her, she heard them rush to one another, she heard them embrace, she heard the passionate, desperate words whispered and cried. She smiled and grasped her heart. The same heart that killed and tortured made this happen. The same heart that would now do what it had to do.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ALMIRA
Sanaa awaited her outside with Hira, as she instructed. Hira’s wound was healing nicely, a long red jagged mark that would forever mar her face.
Hira came to her and grasped her hands. “Cousin, how can this be, the Lady Poelia?”
Almira nodded. “Yes. She is well. She’s with Hester and shall be with Hester for as long as she likes.”
Hira glanced at the door. “But Lord Thebo...”
“I’ll inform my uncle when the moment is right. There’s been many surprises for her this day, we will take it slow.” Almira looked at both of her kinswomen. “I shall see my father now.”
Hira tightened her hold on Almira. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Almira quaked, the letter in her dress pocket burning into her thigh. But still she walked, one foot before the other, never turning back.
When the four Istokian guards stationed in front of his door saw her, they stood at attention. They opened the doors and she paused. She was a child once more, entering her father’s study, and he was arguing with a noble about the instability in Ouest. She recalled the noble paused and pardoned himself as the “young lady” had entered. Her father chastised him and said, “my daughter is involved in all things pertaining to the country, and you will speak to her as you speak to me.”
She loved her father. That was all she could think even as she knew what she had to do. She loved him and he loved her, despite his actions, and thus this hurt more than anything else before.
She entered with Sanaa and Hira; she would need her closest with her. Her father finished dressing and his servant handed him his gloves for his afternoon ride. He paused at the unexpected intrusion, especially at the presence of her guards.
“Leave us,” Almira said, and the servants rushed to comply.
Her distress must’ve been written on her face, for her father instantly came to her.
“What’s wrong?”
She studied his face. His red hair was being overtaken by gray, but his eyes were bright as ever, the color of the sea. His people, the masters of the ocean, conquered the eastern coast and made themselves lords. They were her people too and their unquiet blood was also her blood. They were twin companions, but it was all deceit. He manipulated and lied. What other hurtful secrets did he keep in his keen and cunning mind?
She pulled out the parchment from the folds of her dress. The same letter Nanai showed her. Her proof, the hard evidence of a liar, of a web. One where she was the prey caught in his selfishness, in his inability to let go.
He took it and perused the letter. He stopped, his eyes still on the parchment, then sighed and folded it carefully.
“Have you nothing to say, sir?” Her voice was measured and calm despite the fury within her.
When he looked at her, he seemed older. Grave lines marred his face and white hairs grew from his bushy brows. His youth was gone, and now, he was the result of his actions. The skin of his neck was reddened by the ocean sun; it’d grown leathery in the years he’d spent running away from his incapacitating loss. His mouth twisted in a sneer, his pride all-consuming.
