‘I have a good head for detail. I watch. I learn.’
There was arrogance in her voice, as if everyone else was a total fool.
‘Then if you watch and learn, why is it that you can’t do your hair? Something so simple?’ Phaedra tried to lighten the mood.
Quintana looked up, questioningly.
‘I think you’re being mean.’
‘No, actually I spoke in jest,’ Phaedra said.
‘Well, you’re not very good at being funny, Phaedra. Don’t try it again.’
And they left it at that.
They worked for the rest of the afternoon, scraping stone against stone, sharpening the flint on each side. By the time the sky began to darken, Phaedra’s hands were bloody, every line and crevice filled with filth. Quintana stood, handed Phaedra the tree limb of her length, and they both forced the stone into the end of the branch until it was secure. Quintana gripped the branch at its centre and made a move to jab at Phaedra, her savage teeth showing a hint of glee. Phaedra stumbled back, her throat constricting. Their very mad princess was now armed. Apart from Donashe and his men finding them, Phaedra couldn’t think of anything more frightening.
‘You try,’ Quintana said and Phaedra held the weapon. Quintana adjusted Phaedra’s hand until her grip on the spear was firm.
‘If the Mont holds a dagger to your throat again,’ the Princess promised coldly, ‘I’ll rip him from crown to heel.’
Phaedra shivered. She saw the vicious teeth appear again in a smile of satisfaction.
‘Let’s go slaughter something,’ Quintana said. ‘We’ll see if they call me useless with their bellies filled.’
‘You’ve got to stop saying that,’ Phaedra said quietly. ‘About the women thinking you’re useless.’
‘You’re the one who’s said it yourself about both of us,’ Quintana taunted. ‘And I’m sure you and the women have called me other names. An abomination? A whore? Have I missed anything? Go on! Speak the truth.’
Phaedra swallowed hard. Oh, all those words and more. Mad. Indulged. Delusional. Cold. Vicious. Broken.
‘It doesn’t matter what we’ve said in the past; you need to endear yourself to your people, Your Majesty,’ Phaedra said.
Quintana leant forward conspiratorially, as if someone was close by. ‘I’m not too fussed about that title, really, Phaedra. It’s what they used to call my father, and I only stress the use of it when I’m dealing with the likes of those fishwives in the cave. You may refer to me as …’
She thought for a moment, her brow creased in thought.
‘You may refer to me as Your Highness, instead.’
Phaedra couldn’t stop a laugh.
‘I think I’m going to call you Quintana, actually.’
Quintana’s eyes narrowed.
‘Only because the Queen of Lumatere is referred to as Isaboe by those close to her.’ Phaedra nodded, enjoying herself. ‘Froi called her Isaboe as well. If the Queen of Lumatere discovers that those close to the Queen of Charyn use such a formal title … well, she’ll think that the Queen of Charyn can’t make friends.’
Quintana’s contemplation was thorough.
‘She’s not as beautiful as people say, you know,’ Quintana said. ‘But the little person Vistie was.’
‘Vestie.’
‘The little person has a voice … much like someone I once knew … my sister, if you’d like to know.’
Phaedra was surprised. ‘I didn’t realise you had a sister.’
‘In here I did,’ Quintana said, pointing to herself.
Phaedra thought a moment. ‘I understand about Vestie. The little ones on the mountain … they made me feel a joy and sadness beyond reckoning.’
‘Is that how you feel about your Mont?’
‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ Phaedra said quietly.
‘He’s very handsome.’
Phaedra had to agree and, glancing at Quintana, she thought that perhaps the Princess wasn’t so bad after all.
‘It’s a pity about his swiving, though.’
And Phaedra saw her smile with a hint of mischief in it and she couldn’t help smiling herself and then she was laughing. They both were, and the savage teeth were the most joyous sight Phaedra had seen for a long time. It was as if they were dancing. There it was. Suddenly the strangeness of Quintana of Charyn’s face made sense. Because it was a face meant for laughing, but it had never been given a chance. It robbed Phaedra of her breath.
In the palace village, Lucian said his goodbyes to Lord Tascan. He had come to the capital for discussions with Finnikin and Sir Topher that had been a great success. Finnikin’s market day would be open to other kingdoms for the first time since the end of the curse. It would bring to Lumatere cloth merchants from Belegonia, drapers from Osteria, weavers from Sarnak. All interested in Mont fleece, which every Mont knew was second to none in the kingdom, even the land. Added to that was Lord Tascan’s suggestion of a possible exchange of goods. His villagers grew sugar beet and barley.
‘We’ll talk on market day,’ Lucian said. ‘I’m to judge the barley,’ he added. ‘A neutral eye is required, according to our consort.’
Suddenly Lady Zarah was there beside her father.
‘What a surprise to see you here, Father,’ she trilled softly. She said something to Lucian, but he could hardly hear and was forced to move closer. There was too much noise in the palace village today.
‘Just saying my goodbyes to the lad here,’ Lord Tascan said, handing Lucian a flask.
‘The best wine this land has to offer,’ he promised. ‘A gift from the King of Osteria for my service to him.’
Lucian thanked him and placed the wine in his pack.
‘I’ll walk you to your horse,’ Lady Zarah said. She held a hand to his sleeve and Lucian instantly felt every pair of eyes in the palace village on them.
‘Will you always live in your dark little cottage?’ she asked as they reached his mount. ‘It’s sweetly quaint.’
‘It suits me,’ he said. ‘And I love my
Lady Zarah laughed too, but it seemed forced. She was a pretty girl and he could grow to love her. He knew that. She was a Lumateran and he could grow to love any Lumateran girl. But he was already imagining himself trapped inside his cottage with no room to breathe and having to stand so close just to hear her voice. Sweet as it was.
He saw Finnikin with Perri at the tannery and took Zarah’s hand.
‘I see my cousin,’ he said, kissing her hand gently because the Mont girls had taught him that a lady liked to have her hand kissed. ‘I’ll come visit the next time I’m in the village.’
‘I’ll look forward to that, Lucian,’ she said.
Not Lu-cien.
‘Sweet, sweet girl,’ Finnikin said politely when Lucian reached him. They watched as Zarah walked away, whispering to her father.
‘Oh yes, the sweetest.’
‘Yes, yes. Very sweet. I say it all the time. What a sweet girl.’
‘Hmm.’
And then the discussion of Zarah was complete because there wasn’t much else to say and Finnikin mentioned a hunt and Lucian was relieved to speak of something that had his heart racing. Close by, Perri was saddling a horse that wasn’t his own.
‘He’s been strangely wounded in spirit since we returned,’ Finnikin said quietly about the guard. ‘First this thing with Froi, and then returning to find out about Tesadora’s estrangement from Isaboe. Why didn’t you put a stop to it, Lucian?’
