Fairest: The Lunar Chronicles: Levana's Story (12 page)

There was no point thinking it, anyway. Channary was queen. Selene was the heir. Levana was just the princess, with a guard for a husband and a daughter without royal blood.

“I could drop you over this balcony, you know,” she said, cooing the words softly. “You couldn’t do anything about it.”

The baby did not respond to the threat.

“I could
force
you to stop crying. Would you like that?”

It was a tempting thought, one that Levana barely managed to withstand. They were not supposed to manipulate young children, as studies suggested that too much tampering when they were so tiny and impressionable could disrupt the way their brains formed.

Levana was beginning to wonder how much damage just one little moment of silence could do … when she heard her sister’s heels clapping across the meeting room’s floor.

Turning, she saw that Channary was attempting to hide just how horrible a coughing attack it had been, storming back with a stick-straight spine and blazing eyes, her brown hair swinging against her shoulders. But her face was blotchy and a thin layer of sweat still clung to her upper lip.

She took the baby out of Levana’s arms without preempt, without even a thank-you.

“Are you all right?” asked Levana. “You’re not dying, are you?”

Shooting a glare at her, Channary turned away without taking even a moment to admire the view. As she paced back into the room, the child’s crying began to subside, her pudgy fingers pawing at her mother’s face.

It occurred to Levana that maybe babies weren’t affected by glamours, and they all hated her because they could see what she was underneath.

“You’ve had that cough for a long time. Maybe you should see Dr. Eliot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the queen,” Channary said, as if this alone would protect her from illness. “Though, speaking of doctors, have you heard about that couple in bioengineering?” She grabbed a bottle from a satchel and fit it into the child’s mouth. Levana was amazed every time she witnessed this motherly affection from her sister—a girl she had only ever known as cruel and selfish. Surely
their
mother never fed them. She wondered what possessed Channary to do it, when they had so many servants on hand.

“What doctors?”

“The ones that had the baby. Darnel, I think … the man is … heavens. Ancient. Sixty, maybe?”

Levana clenched her teeth. “I had heard they were expecting, yes.”

“Well—they are finished expecting. The baby was a shell.”

Eyes widening, Levana clasped a hand over her mouth. Pretending horror, but mostly to hide the bout of glee that threatened to spill out. “A shell?”

“Mm. A girl, I think. That thaumaturge went to collect her yesterday, for…” Channary sighed, like it was too exhausting to remember all these pesky details. “Whatever those scientists are using the shells for.”

“Blood platelets. For an antidote to the disease.”

“Yes, that’s right. How can you remember all this?”

Frowning, Levana glanced down at the baby, who was now in a satiated stupor as she sucked on the bottle’s nipple. She turned back to the view of Earth, of the lake, of all the happy couples.

“A shell,” she murmured. “How
embarrassing.
”

“I’ve noticed that you’re not getting any larger,” said Channary, pacing out to join her on the balcony. “Unless your glamour is hiding it from us.”

Setting her jaw, Levana didn’t respond.

“Tell me, how is wedded bliss these days? It’s been a while since I heard you wax on and on about how much you
love
your husband. I rather miss those days.”

“We are fine, thank you,” said Levana. Quickly realizing how very un-fine that sounded, she added, “I still love him very much. We’re quite happy together.”

Snorting, Channary leaned back against the rail. “Lies, lies. Though I can never tell whether you’re lying to me or to yourself.”

“I am not lying. He is everything I have ever wanted.”

“How quaint. I really thought you would have set your sights a little … higher.”

Channary’s attention drifted upward, to the blue-and-white orb hanging in the sky.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking more about Earthen politics, lately. Rather against my will, I admit. It’s impossible not to when all the families go on and on about this biological warfare they’re planning. It’s exhausting.”

“You are a model of patience,” Levana deadpanned.

“Well, I’ve been seeing pictures of the royal family from the Eastern Commonwealth and … I’m rather intrigued.” She tried to take the child’s bottle away, but baby Selene whimpered and reached for it, pulling it back into her mouth.

“The royal family? Isn’t the prince only a child?”

“A toddler, yes.” Channary bent over her daughter, nestling the tufts of hair with her nose. “At first I thought, why, he might be a perfect little match for my perfect little girl.” She lifted her gaze again. “But
then
I thought—why, I suppose I could marry too. And the emperor is quite handsome. Broad-shouldered. Always smartly dressed, though a little bland—Earthens, you know.”

“Unfortunately, I do believe he is already married.”

Channary snorted, and baby Selene finally released the bottle, finished. “Always the pessimist, baby sister. Perhaps he won’t
always
be married.” Shrugging, she lifted the baby over her shoulder to burp her, even though she had nothing to protect her fine gown. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. I’m certainly not planning any assassination attempts
yet,
but … well. I’ve heard Earth is nice this time of year.”

“I think it is nice every time of year, depending on the hemisphere.”

Channary quirked an eyebrow. “What is a hemisphere?”

Sighing, Levana shook her head. “Never mind. That baby is going to spit up all over your dress, you know.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sick of this one. I’m sick of all of them, actually. Nothing in my whole wardrobe fits anymore, and I know it will just get worse if I end up pregnant again. It will be a full-time job for my seamstress. I’ve been thinking I might have her feet removed, so that she has nothing better to do.” Her eyes sparkled, like it was a joke.

But Levana had seen that sparkle before. She was not so sure that Channary was joking.

*   *   *

Queen Channary Blackburn of Luna did not have a chance to see to an assassination on the Earthen empress. She did not marry Emperor Rikan or see her child grow up to marry a prince.

Five months after their conversation, she did indeed have her seamstress’s feet surgically removed, and the seamstress had not even recovered enough to get back to work before it was all for naught.

At the age of twenty-five, Queen Channary died from regolith poisoning in her lungs.

It was a disease that commonly afflicted those in the outer sectors, due to a lifetime spent breathing in the dust from Luna’s caverns, but it was so unheard of among the aristocrats—and certainly among the royal family—that doctors had never even considered it a possibility, even when Channary broke down and talked to Dr. Eliot about her persistent cough.

The mystery was never solved, but Levana had a theory that her sister had been sneaking away to the regolith caves under the city for some of her romantic rendezvous.

The funeral was similar to that of their parents, and Levana’s feelings were rather the same.

Princess Winter and Princess Selene attended, dressed in royal garb as befit their stature. Selene, now one year old, received kisses from a lot of strangers, but between the two, it was Winter who received the most compliments. She was indeed a very pretty child, and Evret was right—she was taking more after her mother every day.

Evret offered to work, guarding the queen’s casket as it was carried through the streets on its way to be buried in a crater outside of the domes. Levana asked him not to. She’d hoped he would agree to stand by her side. To be her husband. But it didn’t work. To him, duty came first.

The little boy who belonged to Sir Clay was there too, almost four years old now and pale blond as ever. He tried to teach the wobbly-footed girls how to play hide-and-seek among the pews, but they were still too young to understand.

Levana pretended to cry. She was assigned the role of queen regent until her niece’s thirteenth birthday, at which time Selene would take her throne.

Twelve years.

Levana would be queen for twelve years.

She tried very, very hard not to smile until the funeral was over.

*   *   *

“Head Thaumaturge Haddon is retiring at the end of this month,” said Venerable Annotel, keeping pace beside Levana as they made their way to the court meeting. “Have you considered who you might nominate for his replacement?”

“I’ve been thinking I would recommend Sybil Mira.”

Annotel glanced sideways at her. “An
interesting
choice. Awfully young … The families thought you might be thinking of Thaumaturge Par—”

“Sybil has thus far excelled at the responsibilities given to her regarding gathering shell children.”

“Oh, no doubt. She is very capable. But her inexperience—”

“And I believe that she earned a second-tier rank at only nineteen years old. The youngest in history. Isn’t that true?”

“I … am not honestly sure.”

“Well. I appreciate her ambition. She is motivated, and I like that. She reminds me of myself.”

Annotel pursed his lips. He would be stuck now that Levana had made the comparison. “I am sure she is a wise choice,” he said. “If this is your final decision, I think the families will approve.”

“We will see. I have a month still to consider.” She smiled, but then she spotted Evret down the hall. He was one of the guards waiting outside the conference room. Seeing him, she felt herself deflate. No matter how confident she became in her role of queen regent, every time her eyes fell on her husband, she felt like that same love-struck sixteen-year-old girl all over again.

She hoped to pass a smile his way, but Evret did not look at her as he and his comrade pulled open the doors.

Wetting her lips, Levana stepped inside.

As the doors shut, the family representatives stood. Levana approached the dais where the throne stood.

The queen’s throne.

This room was among her favorites in the palace, and her appreciation for it had increased drastically the moment she’d first taken her seat in that magnificent chair. The room glinted and shimmered, all glass and white stone. From her position, she could see all of the members of the court seated around the intricately tiled floor, and directly opposite her was the magnificent view of Lake Artemisia and the white city.

Sitting there, Levana truly felt like the ruler of Luna.

“Be seated.”

Chairs were still shuffling as she straightened her spine and gestured leisurely at Head Thaumaturge Haddon. “You may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I am pleased to report that your experiment regarding strict work hours in the outer sectors is going well.”

“Oh?” Levana was not surprised, but she pretended that she was. She had read a study from Earth a few months ago about how efficiency and productivity dropped without regularly scheduled breaks. She suggested that they program chimes to sound at regular intervals in the manufacturing domes, to remind workers when to take mandatory breaks, and then extend the workday to cover that lost time. The court had not been sold on the strategy at first, worried that it would be too difficult to enforce such a drastic increase in the workday, and that there were already complaints of the people being overworked in the outer sectors. But Levana insisted that, with this new schedule, the days would in fact go
faster,
and the solution would benefit everyone, the workers most of all.

“Productivity is up eight percent in the three sectors where we implemented the change,” Haddon continued, “with no apparent loss of quality.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

Haddon read through the reports, feeding her the numbers on the successful increase of trade between sectors, and telling her how delighted the Artemisian families were with the new artisanal delights Levana had commissioned for their city. What’s more, the research teams were making good progress with both the genetically engineered army and the biochemical disease, and reported that it might be ready to unleash on Earth within the next eighteen months.

No one came out and said it, but Levana could tell that the court was pleased with how she had stepped up to fill her sister’s role, and far outdone the example that Channary, and even their parents, had set. She was the queen Luna had been waiting for, and since she had taken power, the city was thriving, the outer sectors were flourishing, everything was exactly as Levana knew it should be.

“We are planning to roll out the labor program throughout the rest of the general manufacturing sectors in the coming months,” Haddon continued. “I will give regular updates as we progress. That said, I’m afraid we have noticed some … potential drawbacks.”

Levana listed her head to one side. “And those would be?”

“With such frequent breaks during the workdays, the civilians are given more chances for socializing, and we’ve noticed that these interactions are continuing even after the workday has ended.”

“And this is a problem?”

“Well … perhaps not, Your Highness.”

Annotel spoke up. “In the past, there has been concern of civil unrest when the people spend too much time being idle and … having
ideas.
”

Levana laughed. “Unrest? What reason would my people have to be unhappy?”

“None, of course, Your Highness,” said Haddon. “But I wonder if we have yet fully recovered from the murders on your parents. It is only that there will always be a few … bad seeds, in the outer sectors. We would hate to give them too much time to infect the others.”

Levana folded her hands in her lap. “While I cannot imagine the people deciding they’re unhappy with our rule, I concede to your point. Why don’t we implement a mandatory curfew after work hours? Give people time to go home, and let them stay there. That’s the time to be with their families, anyway.”