Richard came into Harcourt’s chancellery without an appointment or even a simple knock, so the latter shot up with alarm until he saw that it was indeed his colleague.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Something blue-torched came in that you might want to know about.’
‘Blue-torched?’ Harcourt asked. ‘For us?’
‘No,’ Richard said slyly, slinking down onto the chaise-longue in the chancellery that faced the window and bathed him in gentle sunlight. ‘For Her Majesty — but I make a point in reading letters to and from her in case something is awry. Needless to say, something is awry.’
Harcourt absentmindedly set Katherine’s signature below the text of a policy, a signature he had mastered over her reign so far, and which he was free to use on anything they had spoken of earlier. It saved her her wrist. Only a member of the inner circle knew the subtle differences between Harcourt’s and Katherine’s version: the former made sure to always gently smudge the tail of the letter R — the capital R in Katherine Regina — in a certain direction. Katherine herself often just signed Katherine R.
‘What’s it this time?’ he asked. ‘Have they found the boy?’
‘We haven’t been looking,’ Richard said. ‘I was expressly asked to leave my shadowmen out of it. We imagine he may have perished in the woods. According to accounts, he fled with nothing on him. The stable boy that accompanied the hounds during the night saw him leave on horseback. He’s just got that to trade and the clothes on his back, and if he does, he won’t have a horse nor clothes. So… it’ll manage itself.’
‘Fine,’ said Harcourt. ‘You haven’t told me what is awry.’
Richard grinned and pulled a sheet of paper folded into an envelope and with its seal popped from beneath his arm where he had been clutching it. ‘I’m afraid that, at this point, I will never be able to return to the guild, for whenever a plot is resolved, something else rears its ugly head.’
‘Do not lie to me, Rich, you love it here,’ he said, taking the letter.
‘It is better than I thought,’ Richard admitted. ‘I have found myself even beginning to like a few of my fellow courtiers. Hell, I’ve found myself beginning to like Her Majesty.’
Harcourt smiled and began to read.
‘While you read,’ Richard began, ‘Begin to think about the fact that this was sent blue-torched. Urgent, unbreachable, elaborately expensive.’
‘Yes,’ Harcourt complained, ‘I understood that much.’
My beloved Katherine,
Your aunt Scemena has arrived to Souchon Palace and has asked for you. Souchon Palace misses a shimmering star in its night sky without you, we are indeed afraid. Despite the bitterness of the end of our dealings, we all look back on your stay with a fitting remorse for the way things have gone.
Many ambassadors and courtiers, too, mourn your loss as an apt trading partner and welcome sight in their hallways.
We thought to write due to the impending nuptuals between our King Henri and his Lady Isabella de Ginefort. We would be honoured to receive you for the ceremonies as a dear friend of the family and of the kingdom. If you happen to prioritise your ties to Massouron and the Baradran Kingdom, your presence would be greatly appreciated.
In case you are tied by the prospect of a suitor’s presence in your court at this time, please do write.
Yours faithfully and adoringly,
Louise de Chavanet
‘I see both a threat and a request for confidential information,’ said Harcourt. ‘Phrased in a way that Lady Katherine is likely to comply to.’
‘Exactly,’ Richard said. ‘And nothing very urgent that would warrant blue torches, unless a quick answer is desired due to an unstable factor we don’t know of.’
‘And I imagine you have done some thinking to that effect?’ Harcourt asked, folding the letter back up.
‘Could they be disappointed in the match?’ Richard asked. ‘I recall it was quite difficult appeasing Louise, the Massouric peers, and Henri himself. Isabella had appeared to me, through our correspondences, a fine, upstanding young woman, but an alliance with the Gineforts means a tie of blood with the faltering regime of the Baradrans. We know Louise wants this, for her husband too is a Ginefort, and she still believes in the Ginefort regime, but… could the peers stand in the way?’
Harcourt was stunned by Richard’s insight, and began to grin widely. ‘Don’t expect to ever return to your post,’ he said giddily. ‘I’m going to require a man like you by our side. Brilliant. Do you think they would have preferred the alliance to Ilworth?’
‘What else?’ said Richard, sitting up straighter from the praise, ‘Not only do we know that Lady Katherine is capable of bearing a child, her sister is married to the Archduke of Neuhausen which will ease trade relations to their north. Besides that, she has ties both to the Gineforts by blood and the De Serras by association. Her hand is valuable for both sides, as long as she does not make her opinion on the conflict known. Looking back, Louise opening the country for members of the Ginefort dynasty may have been a mistake. Yes, it concentrates power to Souchon Palace, but there may be a far larger price for it than bargained for. What if they breach the borders, for example? Will Massouron be plunged into war with the new Baradran regime?’
‘Yes and no,’ said Harcourt. ‘There is no way they would do such a thing. It’d plunge the whole continent into chaos. I think it will be more likely to be a diplomatic attack — shutting down the embassies, breaching trade agreements, the like.’
‘Do I show Katherine this letter?’ he asked.
‘What would you say, Richard? You appear to have a grasp on this that rivals that of any seasoned diplomat.’
Richard’s face soured. ‘Not within a week,’ he said. ‘So we’ll have the stinger of urgency pulled out from it. Then, consider our options. Massouron is one of the trickiest alliances to form, making an effort for her hand will not be easy but may be worth it down the line. They are distant neighbours. Basically the inverse Otterdon Island. We’ve much to lose by losing their favour — if anything, we’ve Neuhausen to lose. Displease Lady Louise and next thing we know, they march upon Zuyleburg and George is shot through the skull. Then, I wish you good luck on steering Katherine the way you’ve been trying to. She’ll abdicate in an instant.’
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‘That wouldn’t be a bad thing,’ Harcourt grumbled.
The spymaster raised his eyebrows and snickered. ‘No?’ he asked. ‘Please, Overleigh. You and I both know you wouldn’t have hired me if you wanted the ship to sink. You want to steer her, not sink her. Come on, now. Then what? Queen Eleanor? King Thomas? These two are even less prepared than Katherine was. We are nearly two years in now. We have shaken off Lord William. We are down a lover. God save the Queen.’
‘I suppose you are right,’ said Harcourt.
‘We should probably ask her about the portraits sent her way, though,’ remarked Richard.
‘True,’ he said. ‘I’ve a nagging feeling that the Chavanets are not yet done with us, though. Perhaps she will send Louis’ portrait, given that they met in Bourrac.’
Richard’s mouth twitched upwards. Harcourt did not know as much as Richard did about that fateful night in Bourrac, and found it difficult to navigate the multifaceted approach that this required. Katherine would kill him if he said it forth, and he was unsure of whether to trust Harcourt. Surely he was used to her whims, but the Sbaian ambassador was not a beloved man in his book, and though filthy rich, Harcourt made no attempts to please him. If Harcourt went out of his way not to benefit someone of such economic magnitude, certainly something bothered him about them.
‘Perhaps,’ said Richard. ‘But I have a feeling that Prince Louis had quite a repellent reaction to Katherine’s presence. He appears one of the few.’
‘She was with that damned Sbaian,’ added Harcourt. ‘That probably had something to do with it.’
Richard could not say more, but in his mind, he was nodding all the while.
‘Did it?’ he wondered. ‘To my knowledge, all that man has ever done for us is put money in Dorothy’s grateful hands based on some mines nobody even really knew about around these quarters, given they’re all up north. You tolerate less useful men.’
‘Just one man now,’ said Harcourt. ‘The other one is a fugitive. I tolerate one and apparently, one or more bailiffs tolerate the other.’
‘Alright,’ said Richard. ‘You tolerate one less useful man. I suppose that too is proof that you are being too critical of a potential alliance. He wants us to see the Sbai Empire. From what I hear, one of his sons will court Katherine. If they wed, it’ll go one of three ways.’
‘What? He’s beheaded, she’s behead, or they’re both beheaded?’
‘Actually, no,’ he said. ‘If he converts he will give up his title in the Empire and he will live. If not, either when his father dies, he ascends — making him the sultan — or he does not ascend, and in trying to secure his title, perishes. So we have a one in three chance of sharing a treasury, if even de facto, with the Sbai Empire, one of three chance of having another shot at securing a marriage for her, and a one in three chance of normality.’
Harcourt scraped his throat. ‘When you put it like that, I believe a one in three chance of normality is higher than it is if we pursue that Massouric match… Still, I’ll hear none of it. I shudder to think of how their brood would look. I’ve met the Sultan before. I won’t be doing it again if I have the choice.’
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They were hardly missives.
Walter had started learning to write before the end of his term as favourite, and had left in his chambers a few sheets of practised letters. Reading had been easier for him to pick up. It was as if he had just too little control of his fingers to place the letters in a satisfyingly spaced way, let alone their anatomy. However, as Walter’s departure vanished into the horizon of the past, where the sun had set that morning and every morning, Katherine found herself revisiting them, looking them over, trying to distil them into a sort of final message to her.
Nobody knew but Constance, who had slept in Katherine’s room every night after his departure. The first few nights on a fur by the fireplace, but shortly thereafter simply in her bed next to her.
‘Constance, do you believe William was responsible for that assassin?’ she asked, looking up from the sheets of paper she held over her face.
Constance was braiding her hair to coil it over her skull in a crown formation. ‘I wouldn’t know. Ask Richard?’ she asked.
Katherine huffed. ‘Isn’t that silly?’ she asked. ‘What does Richard have but his word? What did William have but his word? If William was here, nobody would have let us touch Walter’s position in court. And now look at us!’
‘You were convinced before,’ said Constance. ‘I don’t see what has changed. Isn’t it proof enough that he escaped that he’s guilty?’
‘We would have needed to kill him,’ said Katherine. ‘Same trap that caught Will. Connie, I may have meddled.’
Constance’s gaze was straight on Katherine via her mirror. Her mouth fell open and she blinked in disbelief. ‘You may have meddled?’
‘I may have ordered his release,’ she said. ‘Through less than official means. I imagined he would have been picked up for a petty crime by now, or fell through somehow, but no… nobody knows where he is. I refuse to have an official warrant go out — God forbid the people learn of my relationship to him. They’ll flay him.’
‘They might have done so anyway,’ Constance said. ‘Same trap, different trapper.’
Katherine squinted at the letters and tried to read them through her lashes. ‘I may seek him one day. I’m afraid that before that day, I’ll have to pick a suitor. I’ve been told Henry still isn’t well. I’m loathed to admit I keep sinking to worse grades of loneliness each month.’
‘You’ve got me,’ Constance said. ‘And Grace. Ellie just left, but she’s just a letter away. You have a court full of people to whom you are the shining sun.’
Katherine rolled over to her stomach and lay the parchment to her side. ‘Funny,’ she said. ‘You think Walter and Henry are like perfumed court ladies to me, with whom I have banquets and dances, my dear?’
Constance’s mouth twitched. ‘I feel compelled to inform you as well, that Robert Fairfax is also just a letter away.’
‘I swear to God, Constance, even if I never had the pleasure of being loved again, I’d rather keep Fairfucks at arm’s length.’
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Swaddled in a large quilt, Henry came stumbling down the hill where the knights were practising, and Jaime caught his eye as she was wielding a wooden training sword. The rustling of the high grass against his legs made a few knights look over to him. He felt the need to smile, but could only do so wryly. He still walked with a limp from the impact that each step would have on the patched-up disaster on his back.
‘Morning,’ he said.
‘Henry,’ Jaime said, and ran towards him to support his arm as he made the last few steps. ‘Let’s get you seated.’
‘I’m not an old man,’ he grumbled. ‘The physician said I could go for a short walk now the weather is fair. I decided I’d see how my colleagues are doing. See if Lady Katherine has replaced me in her affections yet.’
‘She hasn’t been around here,’ Jaime admitted.
‘Neither as Walter, I gather?’ he asked, looking about. ‘He must still be feeling guilty… there’s really no need.’
Jaime’s heart sank. She had spent all of her time with Henry since the incident trying not to mention it. Henry looked deeply pained, with his brows uncharacteristically knitted, and a sallowness on his unshaven cheeks.
‘About that…’ she said. ‘You were aware that Walter was being investigated, right?’
‘Yes, but isn’t everyone after a member of the camarilla is injured by someone’s fault? It is but a formality. The boy was just clumsy.’
‘Well, he escaped,’ Jaime continued. ‘With a lot of goods on him, on a horse. Nobody has been able to find him yet.’
‘Oh…’ said Henry. ‘But we’ll find him again, right?’
‘I hope so,’ she lied, knowing his fate if he were, ‘I think he was afraid of what could follow. He saw his master executed not long ago. From what I gather, he was not the brightest boy.’
Henry huffed. ‘If he was the brightest boy, he’d be a priest of a professor, not a courtier. You didn’t know him, Jaim, but he was like a brother to me. I hate to think he is out there in the wild trying to make it without our help. He was but a serf, and then was catapulted into all of this. He hasn’t lived a day as a middling man in his life.’
Jaime looked out upon the grounds and recalled the place of the accident. ‘I’ve met him once,’ she said, imagining his princely air and golden blond curls, ‘I see why he caught Lady Katherine’s eye.’
Henry shook his head. ‘I imagine one day he could have retired wealthy. It’s a shame it came to this.’