The Queen smiled. Warmth blossomed over her stern expression.
I swallowed.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Not blackmail. I’m not Vigrante. There is no trust in blackmail.’
There was no trust between us anyway.
‘You have a choice, small as it is. Matthias feels you’re suited to being Whispers, and I trust his opinion. And,’ she added, ‘no one else could offer you such a chance at vengeance.’
It’s in our interests to work together, she’d said. The Queen and her uncle had felt differently about duty and responsibility, and she’d avoided Lord Vigrante during her last few Court visits. Rumour had it she’d disliked his influence over her uncle.
Matthias wanted her to be a certain kind of Queen. But I doubted that someone who dismissed blackmail could win against Vigrante.
‘May I consider your offer?’ I asked.
She was right: no one else, not even Matthias, could give me this opportunity. But I wouldn’t become Whispers on a whim. It meant controlling information and misdirection, intercepting threats to the monarch’s life. It was risk after danger after risk, and if I wasn’t careful that could extend to my family.
‘Of course.’ After a moment, she said, painful and soft, ‘My father also died from illness. I will never know if it was deliberate.’
Maybe this was my chance for answers that she’d never get.
‘But you must prove yourself first.’ The Queen smiled at my raised eyebrows. ‘Did you really expect me to trust you with my life without hesitation?’ She picked up my dagger from the windowsill and held it out to me.
‘Prove yourself, and the position is yours,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you take Vigrante down. No blackmail. No traps.’
My heart leaped with hope, yet my common sense insisted on caution. ‘How will I know when to prove myself?’
‘You managed to break into the royal passages and stay alive after threatening Matthias. You’ll recognise the appropriate situation.’
I hadn’t kept myself alive so much as she’d decided I wouldn’t die. But I was, as she’d pointed out, still alive, so I kept my mouth shut.
I took my dagger from her.
Chapter Five
Lia
Two days after we closed the family crypt on Uncle, I met with the Master of Coin.
‘Your Majesty, sympathies on your uncle’s passing,’ Coin said. ‘You have no money.’
I reached across the desk for the stack of paper.
My slim hopes for this conversation now seemed optimistic. We were drastically in the red – had been in debt since Grandfather’s final year on the throne. Thanks to my uncle’s frivolity, we’d never recovered.
I drummed my fingers. ‘Please explain how we can afford Uncle’s funeral and my coronation?’
‘I begged,’ Coin said. ‘Essentially.’
‘Shouldn’t we put the money to better use?’
Coin ran a hand through his greying hair. ‘The people want pomp, no matter how much they claim to hate it. No pomp? Rumours will spread about Edar’s finances. Then they panic. You don’t want that.’
‘You want pomp, yet act like these pages personally offend you.’
‘They do offend me,’ he said. ‘I hardly enjoy scrimping and stretching our credit.’
‘If you no longer want this position –’
‘I’m the best you have. I kept your uncle in his lifestyle, Parliament relatively happy, and everyone else from rioting.’ Spots of colour blazed in Coin’s cheeks.
‘If I had the money,’ I said, ‘I’d give you a raise.’
Coin’s blush deepened.
‘But sadly we don’t. Show me the Steps’ expenditure lists.’
A shuffle of paper, and he passed me another sheaf.
Rage burned in my throat. ‘I was unaware the Dowager Queen would still receive such… large amounts.’ The paper trembled in my hand.
‘It’s reasonable enough.’ From the way reasonable enough stuck in Coin’s throat, my uncle and aunt had pelted him with the phrase until he agreed. ‘The Dowager Queen is expected to maintain a certain lifestyle.’
‘Our monthly incomes are now the same. I doubt she will be entertaining more than me.’ I’d hoped Aunt Jienne would avoid this sort of indirect attack. I couldn’t let it stand.
‘Are you certain you want to wage this battle, Your Majesty?’
‘Quite certain.’ I smiled grimly. ‘I want a full expenditure review. Quietly, to avoid tarnishing Uncle’s memory. You’re abundantly capable, Master Coin, but it’s time a monarch paid attention to our finances.’
The Master of Coin waited, as if for a punchline. When it didn’t come, he smiled. ‘I’ll do my best for your coronation, Your Majesty.’ The coronation wouldn’t be until after a month of official grieving, and though preparations had quietly started once it was understood Uncle wouldn’t recover, there was a lot still to do. I was trying to immerse myself in ruling to avoid thinking about it, but everyone kept mentioning it.
‘Before you get too excited’ – his smile faded – ‘I have two requests.’
‘Whatever Your Majesty wishes.’ Coin was probably reevaluating our entire conversation, deciding that for all my grand talk I was the same as Uncle: only concerned with getting my own way.
‘I require funding.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘For the Master of Whispers.’
‘Ah,’ Coin said. Few spoke of the position, or the duties involved. The Whispers didn’t just protect me, but also Edar and its people. The identities of active Whispers were never publicly disclosed for their safety, but they had financial resources like all the other Masters and Mistresses, including accounts.
‘Will this be a problem?’
‘Of course not, Your Majesty,’ Coin said. ‘The money will be found.’ For all his complaints about our finances, he would never refuse money to my spymaster. ‘Will that be all?’
‘No.’ This was a gamble. Coin wasn’t a fool. He’d kept the strained Treasury functioning despite my uncle and aunt’s demands. There was no logical reason for my request, except that I wanted it, and I couldn’t plant the smallest link in Coin’s mind between Miss Bayonn and Whispers. ‘I propose a weekly meeting where I’m kept informed of our financial affairs.’
‘I highly approve,’ Coin said. ‘I will make the time.’
‘I want Xania Bayonn promoted to the position.’
Instead of blankly staring, as I expected, Coin narrowed his eyes. I couldn’t overstep in his domain, but I needed regular contact with Miss Bayonn. She would also join my ladies, but a promotion would give her additional Treasury access.
‘She hasn’t the necessary experience,’ Coin finally said. ‘Not that I’d trust anyone other than myself to report to you.’
‘Your concern has been noted, but Baron Farhallow speaks highly of her.’ Or he would have, if our introduction had gone as planned.
Coin’s jaw flexed. He didn’t speak for several moments, as if trying to calculate how badly this could reflect on him if Miss Bayonn offended me.