The Spirit War (20 page)

“Being prince means I have to go to court,” Josef said at last. “Court means politics and a lot of talking to people who can’t be insulted. I’m not really—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “You’re the one who’s good with that kind of thing, all right? You have to stay.”

“Josef,” Eli said with a growing smile. “Could it be? Are you asking me for help?”

Josef glowered at him. “Not if you’re going to say it like that.”

“No, no, no,” Eli said, placing his hands on his chest. “I’m flattered. I would be delighted to be your adviser.”

“Good,” Josef said, nodding. “That’s settled, then.”

“Of course,” Eli added, raising one long finger. “You’d have to say what I told you to say, exactly as I told you to say it.”

Josef grimaced, and Eli shook his head. “That’s the only way it works. You can tell me to stay all you want, but if you’re not going to listen to my advice, I’m not going to waste my breath giving it.”

“Fine,” Josef grumbled. “Just don’t get carried away.”

Eli flipped the edges of his golden wig. “When have I ever gotten carried away?”

Josef rolled his eyes and didn’t answer.

“Now,” Eli said. “Let’s get started. Normally, I’d say we should put off seeing the queen. Let her sweat a bit. However, seeing as she’s your mother, sweating would probably only make her more stubborn, so we’re going to go see her immediately. When we arrive, you’re going to tell her that you’re staying and doing your part as a dutiful prince, but only if you get to keep your friends with you, and as soon as a pregnancy is confirmed, you’re leaving. Also, you want full freedom of movement and all royal privileges for you and your entourage, meaning myself and Nico.” He shot Josef a smile. “No reason we can’t have a little fun while we’re stuck here. Does that sound fair?”

Josef rubbed his chin. “I guess it does.”

“Excellent,” Eli said. “I’ll need a full rundown on Osera’s political situation before we do any more politicking than that, but hopefully we won’t have to. If war’s truly coming, Osera has bigger problems than us. All we need to do is keep our noses down, keep you in bed with your wife, and we’ll be out of here in two months. Tops.”

Josef winced. “I’m not a stud bull, you know.”

“You are now,” Eli said cheerfully, walking to the door. He opened it to find Josef’s guards, his overzealous manservant, and Eli’s own Stefan (now with a breakfast trolley instead of the shaving tray) standing in the hallway, whispering together. They all jumped when they saw Eli, but came when he beckoned, tiptoeing into the room as meekly as they could.

“So sorry about earlier,” Eli said, clapping Josef’s servant on the shoulders. “The prince had a bit of a bad night, but food will set everything to rights. Now,” he said, pushing the man toward Josef, “if you would be so kind as to make your prince presentable, we’ll see the queen as soon as she’s ready.”

Both servants cheered up immensely once they were free to do their jobs. Eli stepped aside to let Josef sit down at the washstand as both servants moved in and began cleaning him up. The swordsman sat glumly, letting them lather his chin and comb his hair. Meanwhile, Eli helped himself to a cup of tea, a plate of ham, and several scones from the breakfast tray before flopping down on the bed to watch the show. When Stefan asked if he would like a shave as well, Eli politely declined.

“It took me weeks to grow what I have,” he said, rubbing his fingers over the sparse beard on his chin. “I’m not quite ready to sacrifice it yet. Besides,” he nodded at Josef, who was gripping his swords as the manservant deftly ran the razor over his taut neck. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Josef shot Eli a murderous look. Eli answered with a wide smile as he shoved another slice of ham into his mouth.

When he was shaved and clean, Josef sent the servants running with a growl before joining Eli at the breakfast tray. He ate five slabs of ham in rapid succession and then stepped away.

“Let’s go,” he said, wiping his hands on the shaving towels.

“Not so fast,” Eli said. “You can’t go see the queen like that.”

Josef looked down at his shirt. “Like what?”

Eli sighed and walked over to the mirror on the washstand, tilting it until Josef could see his whole body. Blades were strapped everywhere they could go. Hilts were visible at his sleeves, neck, waist, and boots. Bandoleers of throwing knives were crushing his dress shirt and his short swords were wearing a matched set of grooves into his new belt. Finally, there was the Heart of War itself, the wrapped hilt poking up high over his shoulder, just in case anyone wasn’t intimidated enough by the rest of it.

Josef crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Josef,” Eli pleaded. “You asked me to stay and help you be a prince. This is step one: not looking like a murderer.”

“I’m not going unarmed,” Josef said.

“No one’s going to challenge you to a duel in the palace.”

Josef snorted. “You obviously don’t know Osera.”

“Fine, fine,” Eli said, throwing up his hands. “One sword, but you’re leaving the rest.”

Josef planted his feet, daring him. Eli glared right back, and then he started to push.

In the end, they compromised on one short sword, all the hidden knives, and the Heart, which Josef absolutely refused to leave behind. Eli would have kept going, but it was nearing midmorning and his plan of not making the queen wait was already an hour off schedule. He tapped his foot impatiently as Josef slowly divested himself of the knives he’d agreed to leave, and then he pushed the swordsman into the hall.

The soldiers were more than happy to escort the prince and his
friend to the queen’s chamber. The castle was bustling with morning activity. Servants, their arms full with trays, linens, and other vitals of a noble household, ran up and down the narrow halls, pressing themselves into the wall to make way when Josef and Eli passed. Eli watched the comings and goings with a keen eye. The queen ran a tight ship. Every servant was well groomed and well dressed in simple livery of good quality materials right down to their polished boots. It was little details like this, far more than any ostentation, that confirmed Osera’s wealth in Eli’s mind. He also noticed that everyone, even the servants, was armed with at least a dagger. He filed that tidbit away for questioning later. At the moment, though, he had more important blanks to fill in.

“Josef,” he whispered, leaning toward the swordsman as they walked down the hall. “If I’m going to help you be a prince, there are a few things I need from you.”

“Like what?” Josef said, visibly annoyed by the slow pace the guards set.

“Let’s start with the princess,” Eli said. “I’m guessing you two knew each other before all this?”

Josef nodded. “She’s Lenette’s girl.”

“Lenette?” Eli said. “The queen’s maid?”

“Lady-in-waiting,” Josef corrected him. “Lenette is my mother’s confidant and best friend. Has been for years. Adela’s her daughter. We grew up together.”

“I see,” Eli said. “Your mother married you to your childhood sweetheart in the hopes you wouldn’t complain as much.”

“We weren’t sweethearts,” Josef snapped. “But otherwise you’re right.”

“Well, at least she tried to make you happy,” Eli said, scratching his chin. “That’s more than most royal mothers.”

Josef didn’t say anything to that, and they walked the rest of the way to the queen’s chamber in silence. But when they got there, the
queen was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her lady-in-waiting, the lovely woman in black from before, greeted them in the queen’s entry chamber.

“Lenette,” Josef said with a stiff nod as the soldiers left. “Where’s the queen?”

“Your mother is unwell this morning, Prince Thereson,” Lenette said, returning to the little table where she’d been sitting when they’d arrived.

“Let me see her,” Josef said, crossing his arms.

Lenette took her time, focusing her attention on the leaves in the little stone grinder in front of her. “The queen’s health is a delicate thing,” she said at last, pushing the grinding wheel until the leaves were crushed into a fine powder. “Her rest is not to be disturbed.”

“I’m sure she’ll want to hear this,” Eli said, cutting in before Josef could say anything he’d regret. “Can’t you take us to see her?”

“No,” Lenette said without looking up as she emptied the freshly ground leaves into the glass jar at her elbow. “Since you’re here, I assume you mean to tell her that the prince has decided to stay in Osera and do his duty?”

Eli and Josef exchanged a look.

“More or less,” Eli said.

“Good,” Lenette said with a nod. “I’ll tell her when she wakes up.”

“Listen,” Josef growled. “I don’t care how far you’ve crawled into the queen’s ear since I left—probably more than you should have, considering you convinced her to marry your daughter into the royal line of Osera. But you’re not so important that you can keep me from seeing my own mother.”

Josef’s anger was usually enough to turn people into jelly, but Lenette remained calm and collected.

“I’m not the one keeping you from your mother,” she said.
“These are her doctor’s orders. If she is to be fit enough to appear at court today, she must be allowed to rest undisturbed. If you have an issue with that, the doctor keeps his office on the third floor. Take it up with him. Now, if you still feel the need to brag about your sudden decision to return to your duties, I suggest you find Adela. As your wife, it’s her job to take an interest in whatever you have to say. She’s at the guard keep, overseeing drill.” Lenette gave him a slow smile. “My daughter is a fine guard captain and a dutiful child, which is more than I can say for some.”

Josef’s hand moved toward the blade at his hip in a way that would make anyone who knew him at all dive for cover, but Lenette just smiled and stood up, carrying her pot of ground herbs to the tea service against the far wall.

“I must take the queen her medicine,” she said, tapping a spoonful of the ground leaves onto a silver mesh strainer before pouring a measure of hot water through the leaves into the cup below. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Prince Thereson?”

Josef turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Eli followed, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the queen’s lady-in-waiting smile as she blew on the steaming water. She was placing the cup on a serving tray when the door closed and Eli saw no more.

“Charming lady,” he said, running to catch up with Josef as the guards fell in beside them. “Has she always been like that?”

“Long as I’ve known her,” Josef answered with a growl.

“So, is she noble?” Eli said. “A cousin or something?”

“This is Osera, not Zarin,” Josef sneered. “We don’t marry our cousins. Lenette’s not even Oseran. She married into money, turned that into a court invitation, and then wormed her way into the queen’s favor. She’s been glued to mother’s side for as long as I can remember. People used to complain about a foreigner having
so much power, but she’s been here so long now, I don’t think people even remember she’s not from the island.”

“Time changes many things,” Eli said. “Are you going to see your wife, then?”

“And prove Lenette right?” Josef said with a snort. “Not a chance. We’re going to use our time before court to look for Nico. I’d rather see her than Adela any day.”

Eli smiled. “I’m sure Nico would be delighted to hear that.”

“Why?”

“No reason,” Eli said, rubbing his forehead with a long, deep sigh. “Lead on.”

Josef shrugged and started walking faster. They ditched the guards on the next turn and went out on the rooftops to start their search.

After two hours of looking and nothing to show for it, Josef suddenly announced it was time to go to court. Tempting as it was, Eli resisted the urge to point out that they still had plenty of time before the ceremony began. For one, it might very well be time in Josef’s mind. He was famously insistent about showing up early. Two, Eli had lived with the swordsman long enough to know that you didn’t try reasoning with him when his face was set in that particular expression of cold rage.

As it turned out, it was good that they went down when they did. Despite being nearly an hour before court was scheduled to start, the throne room of Osera was already packed.

“I see you come by your predilection for early arrivals naturally,” Eli said, poking his head through a side door to survey the scene. “I think we’re the last ones here.”

Josef didn’t answer. He was standing by the door with his hands on his knives, looking suspiciously pale.

Eli poked him in the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Josef said, taking a deep breath. “It’s just been a while since I had to deal with this idiocy.”

Eli gaped at him. “Josef, you’re the wielder of the Heart of War. You’ve fought Berek Sted
and
the Lord of Storms. How can you be nervous about facing some nobles?”

“I’m not nervous,” Josef snapped. “I just need a moment.”

“It’s a room full of rich, soft, old men!” Eli cried. “It’s not an army.”

“I’d prefer an army,” Josef said. “You don’t know what those people are like. If they would fight me openly, everything would be fine. But they don’t. They just
talk
.”

Eli smiled and held up a finger. “Just relax and remember the first rule of thievery: Shown weakness is your only weakness. Go in there with your head held high and leave the talking to me. That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Josef released the death grip on his sword long enough to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Just promise me you won’t turn this into one of your overcomplicated Eli things,” he muttered. “Please.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eli said, taking Josef by the arm and steering him toward the door. “Chin up. Try to look princely.”

Josef nodded and set his features in the steely expression of a man bravely facing his own death. Eli grimaced, but didn’t comment. Bad as it was, it was better than the cold rage from earlier. He gave Josef a firm push, and the two of them walked into the hall.

The Oseran throne room had what Eli thought of as a paranoid setup, usually found in kingdoms with a violent history. It was all one large room with a row of narrow support columns forming a corridor up the middle, but rather than placing the throne on a
free-standing platform as in Mellinor or other, more peaceable kingdoms, Osera’s throne was flush with the back wall, leaving no space for attack from the rear.