‘Is he not the most perfect thing you’ve seen, Lirah?’ Quintana asked. ‘Is he not just like Lirah, Gargarin?’
‘Thank the gods for that,’ the little King’s regent murmured. Phaedra knew Gargarin and Lirah were lovers. It was whispered in the hallways of the palace by the guards. But Phaedra hadn’t realised the two loved each other until Gargarin watched Lirah of Serker with the sleeping boy.
‘You can stay the night with Phaedra and me, Lirah,’ Quintana said. ‘We can watch Tariq sleep.’
Lirah and Gargarin exchanged a look and Arjuro snorted a laugh.
‘Yes, I’ll sit with Gargarin and speak of waterwheels and privies.’
Today, having lost the battle of Quintana leaving the palace, Phaedra watched as Gargarin decided to bring up the issue of chambers when they returned to her room.
‘There’s been enough time to settle in,’ Gargarin said. ‘You can’t stay in here, Your Majesty. It’s not big enough for you all.’
‘But I can,’ Quintana said dismissively. ‘This has always been my chamber.’
Gargarin grimaced. ‘It holds bad memories for you, Your Majesty,’ he said. ‘Awful.’
Quintana picked up Tariq from his basket and clutched him to her. She did it often. Up and down he went. From her arms to the basket and then back into her arms. Sometimes Phaedra would see Quintana place an ear to Tariq’s lips to check for breathing.
‘This chamber holds the best of memories, too,’ Quintana said quietly. ‘You forget that.’
Gargarin sighed. ‘It’s best you take the solar. It’s large and well lit and the most comfortable place in the palace.’
Quintana wanted to hear none of it. Instead, she held out Tariq to Gargarin. ‘It’s about time,’ she said. She tried at least once a day to have the little King’s regent hold him, but always failed.
‘You move to the solar,’ he said firmly instead.
Phaedra believed Quintana had all but lost this fight.
‘My idea is better,’ Quintana said. ‘You take the solar, Gargarin. There’s the secret passage through the cellar that leads to it and on the nights Perabo is on watch at the gatehouse, Lirah can visit you easier than meeting you here. She certainly won’t be seen by the parrots of the provinces. When he’s old enough, we can place Tariq in the chamber next door to here. We can hack an entrance just there,’ she said, pointing to the wall. ‘We can place a desk near the window, just for you. The little King will have to get used to you, so it’s best you use his chamber as a study during the day. It means you’ll still be able to use it when the sun comes up to greet Arjuro and Lirah.’
‘Your Majesty –’
She shook her head and placed her hands over the little King’s ears. ‘I slit my father’s throat in the solar, Gargarin. Not exactly the room I want my son sleeping in. And anyway, think of your satisfaction. You get the dead King’s sanctuary. You get what Bestiano wanted for himself. Lie back and relish it.’
Gargarin was silent. Most of the time, Phaedra was frightened by him. Not that he had ever shown a violent trait and not because of words he had spoken, but because of the silence. He had a wounded spirit and the only time she saw him happy was when he was in the company of Lirah and his brother and Tariq, despite not wanting to hold him. But then again, everyone was happy in the little King’s presence. Phaedra couldn’t bear to start her day without having him in her arms. He soothed her aching heart.
‘And I’ve made a decision about my title of Queen,’ Quintana continued. ‘I’ve decided to relinquish it. In years to come when Tariq marries, it will belong to his betrothed and I’ll despise her enough for taking my son from me. It could get quite ugly if I get used to the title and I may hate her twice over. I might want to kill her and we do want to avoid future bloodshed in the palace.’
There was a strange, twisted smile on Gargarin’s face. Phaedra didn’t understand their humour. It bordered on wicked when Arjuro joined them.
‘Then, Princess –’
Quintana shook her head. ‘I can’t say I enjoyed being princess of this kingdom, either. It’s best that the people of Charyn forget that title until I have a daughter. She can be the spirited princess. The gentle princess. The sweetest princess in the land. The bravest. The feistiest. But when the people of the Citavita think of me as princess, they’ll remember the cursed princess. The Princess Abomination.’
They waited.
‘I’ll be referred to as Quintana of Charyn, mother of the King. And Lirah of Serker will be referred to as
Gargarin sighed and then nodded, and then gave a twisted, shy smile again. It made him quite striking. ‘When did you work all this out?’ he chided gently.
Quintana looked down at Tariq. ‘Quite some time ago. Tariq loved the idea. We just thought we’d wait until you were ready, Gargarin. It’s about time and compromise.’
Gargarin looked around the room, already imagining how the residence would be if they made an entrance between the two rooms. He walked to the wall and knocked hard.
‘In the fortress beyond the little woods where we hid with the Lasconians and Turlans, they had fireplaces on every floor without so much as a chimney,’ Gargarin said. ‘They used vents in the wall. We’ll put fireplaces in both these chambers.’ He liked the idea. ‘And I dare say I think we can make another entrance into the room adjoining the next. All three could make a strange private residence.’
Quintana seemed pleased. She held Tariq out to Gargarin.
‘My arm –’ he said.
‘You won’t drop him, Gargarin. Froi would want you to hold him.’
Phaedra wondered what had taken place when Quintana escaped with Froi, Gargarin and Lirah all that time ago. They shared a bond, a secret. She knew that Froi was the father of the child. Very few did, except for Lirah, Gargarin, Arjuro, Perabo and the Provincaro of Paladozza. But there was more, and she knew the answer lay with Froi of Lumatere.
She tried asking once.
‘Better that we don’t tell, Phaedra,’ Quintana said.
‘We’d have to kill you,’ Arjuro added, ‘and we don’t really want to do that.’
But regardless, Phaedra knew she was trusted by them all. She liked the Priestling best. Arjuro was besotted by the little King and visited as often as possible.
‘Did you see that?’ he asked Gargarin one time. ‘He stared straight at me with understanding when I explained the symptoms of gout. Pure genius.’
But despite some of the compromises, Phaedra could see that Gargarin and Lirah and Arjuro feared for Quintana. The way she had imprisoned herself in the castle with Tariq, and her belief that an enemy was sent to kill him. It meant that if Phaedra wanted to walk the streets of the capital, she did so with a guard, and not Quintana. At first she had been frightened that the stone walls would come tumbling down on her. As time passed, she was accompanied by Lirah and she warmed to the people and wished Quintana could hear the yearning in their voices when they asked Phaedra and Lirah about the little King. But no one could convince Quintana. Not even Lirah, whose only means of seeing Tariq was through her nightly visits.
‘I’d love to see him during the light of the day, Quintana,’ Lirah said one night.
‘But you see him from across the gravina, Lirah,’ Quintana said coolly. ‘I hold him up every morning.’
‘You know that’s not enough,’ Lirah said. ‘And you know that Dorcas and Fekra and Scarpo and Perabo and his men would never ever let anything happen to Tariq. Even I trust them. How many people have I trusted in my life?’
Gargarin blamed it on the little sleep Quintana had. Arjuro and Lirah said they’d seen her this way before and were lovingly patient, despite not seeming to be lovingly patient people.
‘If I don’t guard Tariq, Lirah, they’ll kill him,’ Quintana explained. ‘They’ll kill my guards to get to him.’
‘The only person I know who’ll get through those guards is Froi,’ Lirah said. ‘Do you want him to return to this? To a frightened Quintana and an unwashed babe?’
The washing of the babe had become an even bigger issue.
‘It’s been months, Quintana,’ Phaedra pleaded. ‘It’s not enough to clean him with a cloth. You need to bathe him.’
‘I don’t want his head to go under the water,’ Quintana whispered. ‘You see awful things down there. Those from the lake of the half-dead are desperate for him.’
