They brought me in to see her then. She slept peacefully on clean white linen. She’d been washed, her wrists bandaged and the cut across her thigh tended. With her hair held back by a headband I saw the bruises on her forehead and jaw, the swollen bridge of her nose and her lips cracked and dried from dehydration. If Candora hadn’t already been killed in a manner more horrible than anything I could’ve inflicted, I’d have made the process a long and slow one, worthy of the man who cut Marion up alive.
Still, Liz looked more beautiful than ever to me. I sat in the bedside chair and touched the back of her hand lightly above the bandage. She made a little whimper of contentment but did not awaken.
There was a soft tap at the door. I turned, expecting to see one of the young apprentices or Mother Mallory, but instead a slight figure in an expensive hooded cloak stood there. In the brightly lit hospital this looked especially out of place, and my hand went automatically for the knife in my boot.
The figure pushed the hood back. Princess Veronica said softly, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I hope I’m not intruding.”
I sat back and glared at her. “You are.”
She did not seem fazed. “May I come in?”
“It’s your country.” My etiquette training did its best to get me to my feet, but my disgust won out and I stayed seated.
She closed the door and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at Liz. Although the princess’ hair was immaculate and the dress under the cloak spotless, she looked as tired and worn as I felt. I could imagine the fiery scene with Gary and Argoset after I left. “Is this your wife?” she asked softly.
“What do you care? She’s just another immigrant like me. She’s not your concern.”
She ignored my sniping. “I’m assuming your presence here means the problem we discussed earlier has been resolved?”
“Yes. Two people died horribly, Liz was tortured and… well, let’s leave it at that. There are no dragon eggs for your father, I’m afraid.”
“I never really believed there were,” she said sadly. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, but her demeanor was calm, even icy. “It was just another fairy tale.”
“So what do you want?” I demanded impatiently. Her presence both aggravated and unnerved me a little.
She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I owe you my life, and I have not honored that debt. But I wish to do so.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Your Highness. Except the honor of your absence.”
“Mr. LaCrosse, within the next few years, my father will die. Either from natural causes or otherwise. When that happens, I intend to ensure Muscodia does not suffer the rule of my brother, Frederick.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“By whatever means are required.”
The firm tone surprised me, although it really shouldn’t have. It was easy to talk about assassinations and coups, especially when you were a spoiled, headstrong teenager. “And how does that help me?” I said, unable to keep the harshness from my voice. “Or pay your debt to me?”
“I am very smart, and reasonably courageous. I am not very experienced, however, as the events this week have illustrated. When I ascend to the throne, I will need experienced people around me.”
The implication hung in the air between us. A tiny smile touched her mouth. “I see you’re surprised.”
“I see you’re delusional,” I shot back.
Now she smiled for real. “Mr. LaCrosse, my offer is serious.”
“Muscodia needs me?”
“I need you.”
“What about Argoset?”
Her smile faded. “Daniel has been reassigned.”
“Permanently?”
“That’s up to him. His judgment, or lack thereof, has done a lot of damage and gotten people killed. He’ll have to convince me that’s changed if he wants to regain my favor.” It was plain that Argoset’s fall had broken her girl’s heart as well as engendered her royal scorn.
“I still have his horse,” I said.
She waved dismissively. “Consider it a gift. His name’s Little Blackie, I believe.”
I nodded my thanks. “Will Argoset be upset that you’ve offered me his job?”
“He would never be suited to the job I’m offering you.”
I had to smile now, too. “Your Highness, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve lost the ability to be a team player. I work better on my own. Besides, you know how sword jockeys are: greedy little men snooping around taverns and whorehouses spying on faithless spouses. We leave a trail of slime wherever we go.”
She nodded. “I assumed you’d say that. And I won’t push you. But I will seek you out again once I’m queen.”
“My answer will be the same.”
“Well. I suppose we’ll have to see. In the meantime, I hope your wife fully recovers. She is a lucky woman to inspire such devotion.”
“She’s not my wife,” I said. “And I always figured I was the lucky one.”
The princess pulled the hood back down over her face and turned to leave.
I said, “But you know what?”
She stopped.
I stood, formally bowed and said, “I can’t do anything for Princess Veronica of Muscodia. But if that nice girl Nicky ever needs my kind of help, under the table and behind the tapestries, with something too delicate for official channels… she just has to ask.”
Her smile was visible inside the hood’s shadows. “She appreciates that very much, Mr. LaCrosse.” Then she left.
THIRTY-ONE
The next morning I awoke in the chair at Liz’s bedside and found her watching me. Her right eye was nearly swollen shut, and blood was still caked around her nostrils. She smiled, ointment gleaming on her cracked lips. “This has a familiar feel,” she said in a weak, thin voice.
“Except you’re on the wrong side of the bed.”
“So are you.”
My entire body seemed rusted into my sleeping position, and moving out of it took a few moments. “How do you feel?”
“Numb. Are my toes wiggling?”
“Yes. They gave you some concoction to help you relax.”
“Any more relaxed and you’ll need a ladle to move me. How long have I been here?”
“Only a couple of days. Nowhere near my record.”
She reached a bandaged hand toward me. “I owe you an apology. If I’d told you about Lesperitt the night of the fire, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “But we don’t have to talk about it now.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Okay. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She was silent for so long I wondered if she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open. At last she said, “I could give you some story about wanting to take care of things on my own, but the truth is that really
… I was embarrassed.”
“By what?”
“By the fact that I still wanted to believe. That even though the adult Liz knew the truth, the little girl in me still believed dragons might be real. And she had to know. So Little Liz pitched a hissy fit, and Big Liz went along
