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“We have a problem,” began Meve, pacing the floor. “A dragon in the room that no one seems willing to acknowledge. A shadow has fallen over our kingdoms and grows stronger by th’ day, yet no one wishes to admit it. Do you understand of what I speak, Reynard?”
He was quiet for a long moment. Somehow, he’d known deep down that this was why Meve had summoned him to meet with her secretly, behind closed doors, in the dark of the night. “Th’ king,” he said finally.
“Th’ king,” she repeated grimly. “Every damn day, Reginald grows more changeable. One day, he’s as merry and good-humoured as ever, the next he’s as bloody-minded as a wild boar with a spear in its back. He’s becoming erratic, Reynard.”
Reynard made no reply. What could he say? There was a palpable tension in the air each day at court until it could be seen what kind of a mood the king was in today; his advisors had taken to withholding intelligence or deferring certain proposals until it was certain that Reginald was in a favourable mood to receive them. Meve had the right of it, however sobering it was to admit it. But she would not have raised the subject with him without purpose, and this sort of talk could only lead one way – and Reynard was not sure if he was prepared to let his mind wander that far.
“It’s bad enough that he spent his reign neglecting diplomacy and statesmanship, it’s bad enough that he’s let th’ relations between our human and non-human subjects deteriorate so,” she continued. “But drought and famine are wreaking havoc on th’ land, and what has done? Increased th’ taxes on imported grain, for gods’ sakes! The people are starving – and with no harvest to reap, I fear they’ll find another use for their scythes.”
“Your Grace,” he began slowly. “You have always had a strong influence on him; many times I have seen you succeed in tempering his approach, in opening his mind, in guiding his hand. I’m sure –”
“I’ve tried, Reynard! Gods help me, I’ve tried. But he heeds me no longer. He’s begun to grow paranoid and I fear” – she hesitated – “I fear he’s grown suspicious of me.”
Reynard frowned. “Suspicious, my lady? Of what?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Of being unfaithful to him! The gall of it – after all these years of putting up with his whoring and womanising; not that I ever gave a damn who he bedded, but th’ irony of it is not lost on me. And I believe he suspects it’s you, of all people.”
Reynard swallowed hard. “…me?”
“Yes, exactly – how ridiculous. It can only be madness – that he would form such a notion about th’ two people least likely to betray him, and in such a way. But I fear it means that your influence on him will diminish, too. I suppose you tried to sway him in th’ matter of the Brossards?”
A cold fury swept through Reynard at the reminder of that whole hideous affair. “Yes, I tried. Tried, and failed. The verdict was unavoidable, th’ evidence against them was too strong. But I fought with him over the sentence. Even when I refused to go, stated my intention to resign from my post, he took no notice – merely threatened me with the same fate, for sympathising with traitors. He’s not spoken to me since.”
“All of them,” Meve said in a low voice. “Th’ cousins, th’ servants – even the boy, apparently. What a waste. A waste of innocent lives, a waste of the goodwill of his people. Those who intend to rule by fear soon find their crown becomes harder to hold, so slick with blood does it grow. If something isn’t done, this will only be the beginning.”
He dared not lift his eyes to hers. “Treason,” he said flatly. “Any action taken against the king is treason, no matter how well-intentioned or noble-minded it may be, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps it is so, in th’ eyes of the law,” she said coldly. “But I was born heir to my own throne, Reynard. It is by grace of his marriage to me that Reginald rules over Lyria – it is my crown he wears, it is my people he wrongs. And I call it treason that he may sit on my throne and do as he pleases without any regard for my will or my decisions. I will not have this be my legacy, Reynard; to be known merely as the consort to a madman who murdered children and watched his people starve as he descended into darkness and dragged his kingdoms with him. I will not stand idly by and see it happen – and if you will not help me, I will have no choice but to do it myself.”
Reynard drew a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. He was on the brink of a precipice, on the edge of the sword of destiny; he was in a position that many would envy, one that he had never desired – the chance to take the fate of a kingdom into his own hands, to alter the course of their history forever. He did not want it, he wished sorely that he was not here, that he had not come, that he could think of some other way out of this mess. But he could not. And he knew as he finally returned Meve’s steady gaze, the fire casting its dancing shadows over her fair features, that his hands were tied, his fate sealed.
“Yes, Your Grace. I will do as you ask.”
The death of a king who’d just barely seen his fiftieth year, who was known to still be very much in his prime, ought to have raised some eyebrows – especially when his untimely end proved to be such an unlikely blessing to his kingdom and court. Questions should have been asked; why had the king ridden out without a suitable retinue that night, alone save for one companion? Why had they taken the path through the forest, when it was well-known to be a hideout for bandits and lair of beasts? But when Reynard Odo stated quietly, eyes downcast, that His Majesty had insisted they leave his personal guard behind, had refused to hear his aide’s concern over the choice of route, well – anyone could see how wracked with guilt the poor man was, over his king’s unfortunate fate. Everyone knew just how unswervingly loyal Reginald’s favourite captain was, that he would have done anything in his power to see his king to safety; the man could hardly be blamed when they’d been outnumbered by their assailants five to one. And when a pack of bandits were arrested, found with the king’s cloak and rings in their possession, no explanation could possibly seem more complete; though they protested that they had attacked no one that night, that truly, they had just found a fine cloak and several jewelled rings in the middle of the forest, well – who would believe them? Of course the guilty party would deny such a heinous crime. It was very merciful indeed of Queen Meve to believe that they had not known the identity of their victims, at least, and sentence them to a quick and painless death by hanging, rather than having them charged with treason and executed as traitors accordingly. All in all, no one appeared very curious about King Reginald’s sorry end at all – the important fact of the matter was that he was dead, and whilst his court would mourn him with all the pomp and ceremony a king was owed, it was with an undeniable, if unspoken, sense of relief.
Reynard’s avoidance of Meve in the days following was not deliberate, he told himself. Certainly, there was much to be done – there was a funeral to attend, a trial to deliberate over, a transition of power to be overseen. It was hardly surprising that they’d barely exchanged more than a word or two since that night they’d met and decided the future of the kingdoms; if he’d been quick to depart council meetings once their business was over, it was only because he did not wish to linger idly when there were so many other pressing matters to attend to – and certainly not because he dreaded being alone with his queen.
“Reynard.” Her voice was quiet but firm; her tone was casual, but one which clearly expected to be obeyed.
“Yes, Your Grace?” He paused in the doorway; his heart caught in a strange, painful leap at hearing her say his name.
“I wished to thank you – for your efforts in the last few days since we lost our king. I greatly appreciate them. But I must say, I am concerned – you look…well, you look unwell.”
He had not been sleeping well at all, every time he closed his eyes, the events of that night played themselves over and over again in his mind, like an awful dream. “It is nothing, Your Majesty. It is a difficult time for us all, but ‘tis a storm we shall weather, I have no doubt.”
“Hmm.” She did not sound convinced, but to his immense relief, did not press the subject further. “What do you make of these reports of forces mobilising in Aedirn and Sodden?”
He frowned. “I believe they ought to be taken seriously, Your Grace. To our neighbours, this time of grief, the transition of power from your late husband to yourself represents an opportunity that few would pass up, especially given – especially given th’ state of affairs here, th’ last few months.”
Meve pursed her lips. “I’m inclined to agree. We must plan for a possible invasion, prepare our troops to strike – pre-emptively, if needs be.”
Reynard merely nodded in reply, though the tension that had squeezed about him like iron bands the last few days eased slightly at her words. Thank gods it was Meve at the helm now, thank the gods it was she who’d lead them through this, with her passion and her sense of justice and her deep-rooted belief that it was she who must serve her people, and not the other way around. He began to hope, for the first time, that he might be able to live with himself after all.
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, laying a hand on his arm. It was all he could do not to flinch at her touch. “No doubt you believe this to be a stain on your honour, Reynard,” she said in a low voice. “But I would beg you not to consider it so. What you did was done in the name of Lyria and Rivia; you have done your country a greater service than anyone will ever know…and I, certainly, shall not forget it.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” He was still unable to meet her eye.
She paused for a moment, lips parted, as though she were about to say something more; but finally she gave a brief nod of dismissal and swept out of the room, leaving him to stare after her.
Oh, how he wished what she said was true; he wished that he could believe it when he told himself it had been for the good of the kingdoms, for the sake of the Lyrian and Rivian people. But he knew it was a lie. Meve would make a superb queen regnant, now that she was no longer hampered by a king who had started his reign ignorant and careless, and had ended it violent, vicious and paranoid. But it had not entirely been those cold, logical thoughts that had guided his hand that night, nor any semblance of the calm rationality he usually prided himself on. He’d done it for her. He’d done it because he was stupidly, hopelessly in love with her. He liked to think – he had to believe – that he’d never have done it not knowing that it truly was for the best, that to do otherwise would have been the greater of the two evils. But when she’d stared up at him with those deep blue eyes and asked him to kill the king he’d served faithfully for a decade, his heart had raced, and not with fear or trepidation.
Enough. He had to believe he had done the right thing, even if it had not been for the right reasons, or he would go mad himself. But he made his resolution now – this would be his penance. He would serve her, faithfully and with unwavering loyalty, for as long as he drew breath – but he would never allow himself to indulge in his feelings, to show her even a glimpse of the passion he harboured for her. He would not depart from court, would not allow himself to try and leave what he’d done behind; even if it caused him pain, even if it broke his heart – he would stay by her side, follow her to hell and back if needs be, whatever it took to allow her to become the greatest queen the north had ever seen. If it was the last thing he did, he would ensure that the future was worth the price they’d paid for it. And perhaps one day, he’d be glad of it.
He looked out the window; the setting sun was staining the sky a brilliant, burning red. If the price of peace and prosperity was one man’s peace of mind, the burdening of one man’s conscience, then so be it – it may as well have been his. But never again. He would never let his loyalty to Meve be called into question. He would never betray her.