Heart of Stone (20 page)

33.

Queen Cozette

Palace Royale, Éclat, Gemmes

She stood in the center of the room, breathtaking in her regality, addressing them. Her twelve most trusted advisors, including Drake and Nicolette, listened closely.

              “We must go forward with the ceremony. The riots will continue, whether we do or not.”

              “I don’t mean to disagree with you, Your Highness, but we can’t leave the Palace. This is a bit of a hostage situation.”

              Cozette heard what Drake said; words repeated in various ways for the past few hours. Marcus’s funeral procession was meant to begin in an hour, yet it proved an impossible task.

Gemmes was on the verge of chaos. She could never predicted their reaction to her husband’s death. Sure, she knew miners were sick, struggling to live with the
Coffre au Trésor
. Overworked and under paid. She had spent several days recently listening to the representatives expressing the things they needed.

She had heard their requests for necessities such as clothing, education, and healthcare. Of course then she had seen it all through rose-colored glasses. Peasants had asked the queen to fulfill their needs. She’d sat upon her gilded throne, sweetly answering them.

She hadn’t looked closely enough to see the pain in their eyes, she hadn’t heard their children at home crying of hunger, or seen the tears spilled over the death of their papas. Her naivety blinded her from the truth.

Now she saw Marcus’s recklessness for what it was. His greed impoverished them all. Marcus suggested a ball, per Drakes suggestion –– when what the country actually needed was an overhaul of the very way they supported themselves. Firstly, paying fair wages and researching new medicine before all the men they needed to mine died. What then? Cozette was broke over the absurdity of their planning.

It was juvenile and shortsighted.

Cozette had spent seventeen years never fully owning her role as queen. A strength in her long forgotten began to surface. She knew what needed to be done, and she would do it.

“Then we will have the ceremony here, in the Palace walls, under the pavilion. Thank the Hedge the weather is good and that the walls are high. Rioters won’t be able to scale them.”

“I am so sorry, Your Majesty,” began Drake. “If we’d had known the Provinces were in such upheaval we never would have….”

              “Never have what, Drake?” she implored him to answer, her brow creased as she attempted to see. She wanted to understand when things had grown so corrupt. “The people would have rioted regardless. Marcus’s death was the thing to put them over the edge. It wasn’t your fault.” Her words to him were sincere, but she couldn’t help look at Drake differently. Why had he not advised more wisely?

              “We never would have let things get so out of hand if we’d known.”

              “That in itself is the exact problem, don’t you see?” Cozette shook her head, frustrated with her husband’s oldest friend. “You want change if it serves you. What about the people? The people of Gemmes?”

              Cozette heard the crowds outside the Palace, chanting and screaming, wanting to tear down the monarchy that had failed them. Cozette didn’t blame them for a moment.

              The doors to the waiting room swung open and Scarlet ran in, passing the typical decorum with urgency that required haste.

              “What is it, my dear?” Cozette asked, putting her hand, ensconced in baubles the size of grapes, on Scarlet’s shoulder.

              “The Tracker and a girl … maybe your girl … are on their way in a Royal Carriage. I came to you the moment I heard.” She paused, catching her breath. “They were intercepted by a group of the King’s Légion, and they’re an hour from arriving. One of their men rode in early to inform us … err, you. To inform you, Your Majesty.” She blushed crimson and bowed deeply, acknowledging her lack of propriety in the queen’s presence.

              Cozette flung all the standards for polite behavior off the Montagne as well, and pulled Scarlet in an embrace.

              “And this is true? They truly think they have my daughter?” Cozette asked, unabashedly, as warmth spread through her chest. She could lead the people, and she could find her daughter. Hope was not lost. Not at all.

              The room of advisors grew alert, not knowing of what the queen spoke. The Légion knew they were looking for an orphan, but only Drake, Nicolette, the queen and Scarlet knew the reason why.

              “They think so,” Scarlet hesitated.

“Go on, tell me what you know.”

“The woman who raised her was killed a few days ago. They questioned the woman, and she wouldn’t speak, she kept protecting a girl who ran away. An orphan. An orphan who was later found on the road with the Gem Tracker. An orphan who is seventeen years old.”

              “This changes everything. All of the King’s Guardsmen who have arrived for the funeral procession, they must go to the front lines; carrying whatever armor they have to protect themselves from the rioters. I need full protection for this carriage as it arrives in the city gates.” She stood with her shoulders straight, and her heart full. No longer buried in the shadow of the king, Cozette realized she had a reason to live.

              “Of course, Your Majesty,” Drake said, rising with the rest of the advisors. “We can’t allow anything to happen to the Princess.”

              A hush followed his words as the room took in the full breadth of what was happening. The queen’s daughter lived. Gemmes had an heir.

Of course, they didn’t know she already had an expiration date.

              “No, Drake. You stay here. Nicolette, help Scarlet prepare a room for the … the girl. Lay out some clothing, I’ve heard the conditions in the Provinces aren’t quite what they should be. I am sure she is in need of a change of clothing, and more. Regardless if she is my daughter or not.”

Scarlet and Nicolette left at once, along with the advisors, now tasked with arming the city’s soldiers and organizing security measures. Cozette felt relief to have the help of such devoted men and women.

She turned to Drake, disappointment spread across her face. This man knew Marcus better than any person in Gemmes. Cozette never questioned his loyalty, or his discernment.

But now there were screaming protesters outside the walls, demanding equality. Demanding to be heard. Deserving to be heard. So much rested on her shoulders. Drake and Marcus should have worked on solutions all along.

“Cozette,” he began, walking toward her. “You must understand--” She held up her hand stopping him.

“I may have been your friend, Drake, but now I am solely your queen. I am not Cozette to you.” Her face was still soft, but it was also hard. Not hard like stone. Her face was determined.

Life, for Cozette, was not at all what she had imagined it would be. She had changed. She had grown and not just grown tender, as Marcus accused … she had transformed, evolved. For the better. Maybe she hadn’t become the person Marcus wanted her to remain, but she was stronger than the cold and cruel girl who wanted to take the world by force, not by love.

Looking at Drake, she realized the men had stayed the same all these years. Marcus never changed, that was for certain. And Drake? He was still the good old boy who did Marcus’s dirty work, who followed orders and kept his place in the Palace pecking order. Their static life caused the divide, not the tender change in her.

He hadn’t turned on her, which made this betrayal of the people of Gemmes hurt less. She couldn’t expect him to act gallantly when he never had before.

“Drake, I need you to go. You presence is no longer needed.” She spoke gently, but firmly. She looked him in the eyes, feeling surer than she had in a very long time, the knowledge that her daughter was on her way strengthened her resolve.

“Let me serve you, protect you. It is what Marcus would have wanted me to do.” Drake stepped toward her.

She held her hand out, indicating for him to stop.

“I am not interested in the protection of a man like you.”

Drake stood speechless before her, but there was nothing left to say, Cozette knew that much. He didn’t possess the skills needed to appease her now. It was over.

Cozette turned and left the room, leaving Drake standing slack jawed and stunned.

She needed to prepare for a homecoming. It was time to greet the past, and hope for a future.

34.

Tristan

Éclat, Gemmes

Tristan had visited Éclat before; it was the center of Gemmes after all, but never like this. Several times, with Uncle Rémy, he had stealthily garnered rooms and carafes of
vin
and girls and food in the back alleys of the city. They stayed where the lawless and the rebellious dwelled.

This was something altogether different. For one, he was seated next to Sophie. If she didn’t roll her eyes every twelve seconds he might be tempted to pull her onto his lap and press his cheek against her chest. She kept complaining of an ache inside, a splintering of her breastbone … and each time she mentioned it his desire for her grew.

Secondly, they were riding in a golden carriage, escorted with pomp and circumstance reserved for the king alone. Each time he looked out the window, it seemed as if another dozen horsemen were by the side of the carriage ushering it through the city gates.

“Tristan, look!” Sophie pointed through the window, with confusion written across her heart-shaped face.

Tristan looked where she pointed, seeing the enormous city gates of Éclat, golden, yes, but also covered in glittering gemstones. Sparkling in the summer sun.

“I know. These gates are ridiculously exquisite.” He smiled at her, hoping the newness of this adventure might create some space in her heart for him once more. Reading her was impossible. It wasn’t hot and cold; it was cold or colder. He knew when she kissed him it wasn’t because she cared for him … she wanted him. His body. Which should be flattering, but honestly, it wasn’t. It felt flat. One-dimensional. One sided. He wanted more from her.

“Not the gates … the people. Do you see them?!” She leaned over him and peered out the window to get a closer look. “They are screaming … protesting.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned closer to her, and tried to see what she was pointing at. He did. “
Merde
.”
              Sophie was right, although the private entourage surrounding them blocked their view, it was clear that hundreds of people had flooded the city, rioting something that was unclear to the two of them.

“Excuse me, sir,” he asked the horsemen closest to them. “What do they oppose?”

The rider laughed as if Tristan were a fool. Perhaps he was; he had been in a Sophie-love-bubble for days. He hadn’t a clue what took place in the world beyond her perfect face.

“The king has died, you idiot. These people are revolting against the monarchy. Not that you heard me say that, of course.”

Tristan sat back on the seat shocked. Sophie didn’t speak either; Tristan assumed she was stunned as well.

“Insanity.” The news shook their entire nation. As Tristan looked back toward Sophie, he realized her eyes were filled with pain. She grabbed at her chest.

“Tristan. It hurts. So bad. So very, very bad. Not like before. It’s worse.” Tears sprung to her eyes, but not from sorrow, from literal pain. He knew something was wrong with her; he knew that, he just didn’t know what. She pressed her hands to her chest, as if hoping the pressure would dull the throb.

“I wish Tamsin was here. She always knows what to do for things like this. She has the best cure for the miner’s cough, too.”

“It matters little now, Tristan. We’re about to get our heads chopped off or something. Don’t be so cavalier.”

“Cavalier, me? Says the Queen of Disregard.” He flicked his eyes up and down her, not understanding the push and the pull he felt by her side.

“True.”

“Besides, they will probably steal my
Trésor de L’espoir
. What will they take from you?”

“You haven’t found the
Trésor de L’espoir
quite yet, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I have one garnet to find. Thanks for reminding me of my short-comings.”

“Oh, anytime. You know I am good for something.”

Sophie grimaced as she smiled at him, and he was grateful for her teasing. It kept his mind off the dead king and the rioting citizens, the lack of his garnet, and the fact that they were paraded into town for a royal unveiling of what he did not know.

The shouting grew louder the farther they rode through the city. The rioters were deafening. Tristan stretched his legs in front of him, ready to exit the carriage. After a long day and night of travel he was ready to know the meaning behind the summons, especially with the advent of the king’s death.

Tristan couldn’t help but crane his neck out of the carriage as the Palace walls peeled back for their party to enter. It was magnificent, save the rioting part. The walls were dazzling in gemstones like the gates, but once they pulled to a stop in front of the Palace, he saw where the real beauty was. Tall towers built to the sky, wrapped in sparkling diamonds that shone in the sunlight. It was surreal to be entering the Palace Royale; this wasn’t a place he’d ever dream of entering as a guest.

He looked at Sophie, who clutched her chest in pain.

“Everything will be fine. You wanted adventure, right?” Tristan said, taking her hand and pulling it to his lips for a kiss. She tensed at his touch, but he continued, “Sophie, whatever happens next, I am here to protect you.”

“Right. I know you think that, Tristan, I know you do, but don’t make promises you can’t keep. Miora told me in the stone reading everything would end in death. I don’t know who or when, but it will happen. I don’t think you can guarantee my protection. Besides, this pain that I’m feeling may be the very thing that’s going to kill me.”

“That’s absurd,” Tristan said, trying to dismiss her claim, not wanting to imagine that it might be truth.

“You’ll change your tune when I have a heart attack.”

“For the love of the Hedge, Sophie. Give it a rest. Just give me chance to be a nice guy and take care of you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” She shrugged her shoulders.

It was true; Tristan knew. He had pushed Sophie along this whole time, since they met over soup and sweet
café
. He pushed her to be with him and now he didn’t want her to leave his side. He couldn’t imagine being apart from her.

“So don’t take my help; just know I’m looking out for you, Bijou. We still have some Gem Tracking to do together, don’t we?”

              “I suppose that’s true.” She swallowed, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, she licked her lips decidedly. She turned and put her hands on his cheeks, taking hold of him. “In this next part, I will need your help. I need to get to your Tamsin. Something is wrong with me, here.” She pointed to her chest. “So no matter what happens, will you promise to get me to her?”

              “Of course, Bijou. Of course.” He kissed her there in the Royal Carriage, ignoring the livery that opened the ornate door, rolling a royal blue carpet for them to walk on as they entered the palace. He ignored it, because in that moment it felt like the
trésor
he was seeking was literally in his hands.

              “Ahem.” A cough interrupted them and Sophie pulled back, a coy smirk on her face.

              “If we get to stay here, you better finish what we started yesterday,” she whispered in his ear, her voice tickling every part of him awake. Once again, her lack of concern for the situation at hand bothered him, her reaction never seemed to match the action.

              “Sir, Madame,” said a man in a crisp white and blue tunic, with the insignia of Gemmes across the front. He bowed with an outstretched arm ushering them from the carriage.

              “Talk about royal treatment,” Tristan said as he stepped out of their ride.             

              “Isn’t it though?” Sophie answered, following him, pinching him on the rear before he exited. His cheeks burned, but he was glad for the nip. It was all he wanted, actually.             

              They walked up the steps to the Palace. The thick slabs of agate with colorful orange and red veins gleamed. The pillars surrounding the Palace Royale’s enormous doors were covered in dazzling auburn colored sapphires; Tristan had seen these before, of course, but never in this multitude.

              Tristan couldn’t imagine what the
Trésor de L’espoir
would contain if it was to surpass this wealth. This was more than he imagined, yet this was said to pale in comparison.

Sophie’s eyes widened and Tristan couldn’t help but grin. If this didn’t melt her heart, nothing would. After all, girls were meant to fawn over jewels such as these. He would be able to give her more once the final stone was found.

As they were silently led in the castle, the pair didn’t stop moving their heads as they absorbed the magnificent beauty the palace held. Tristan pushed his curls behind his eyes in an effort to become more presentable and Sophie smoothed her skirts. Their efforts were dismal. Nothing would be fit to stand amidst this pristine opulence.

Until the queen entered.

Rumors hovered around Queen Cozette. Rumors of her beauty, her kindness. Rumors of her generosity on Representative Days. Rumors of her loveless marriage. Rumors of the sobs that echoed the Palace walls for years since she couldn’t conceive a child.

Rumors that meant nothing.

Because to see her was to believe.

To believe in the impossible. Believe in humanity. Believe that goodness remained in this riot-filled country. Believe that anything was possible.

Tristan was captivated.

Turning to Sophie to see her reaction, he smiled like a little boy in a gem shop. Sophie didn’t smile back.

She clutched her chest, crying in agony, in pain. “Help me Tristan … it hurts. So bad. I’m dying I swear to you!”

The queen rushed to them, and the closer she came, the louder Sophie’s screams became.

She fell, fainting. Tristan caught her in his arms as the queen stood, covering her ruby-red lips in horror. He couldn’t speak. He stared at them both, shocked by the revelation. With Sophie in his arms, with her face turned toward him, and the queen by his side looking at the girl he was irrationally willing to risk everything for, he knew.

He knew Sophie was not an orphan as much has she was a princess.

And Queen Cozette was her mother.