Leoni rubbed her thumb over the chip in her saucer, using her power to slowly repair it. “I don’t understand. If Rasmus dies, his father will still rule. His younger brother will become heir.”
“Heir to nothing,” said Adrik. “Fjerdans don’t think of the royal family the way that the Shu do, or even the way Ravkans do. They follow the will of Djel, and strength is the way Djel shows favor. The Fjerdan dynasties that have reigned have always taken their place by force. The Grimjers will need to prove they still deserve the throne.”
“Perhaps I should try to take that crown instead,” suggested Nikolai.
Adrik sniffed. “Do you even speak Fjerdan?”
“I do. So badly a nice man named Knut once offered me a sizable ruby to stop.”
“So now the Grimjers have a young, weak, sickly prince poised to succeed an elderly king?” asked Nadia.
“Yes,” said Nikolai. “The royal family is vulnerable and they know it. If they opt for peace, they risk looking weak. If they opt for war, they will be determined to win at any cost, and Jarl Brum will be there to goad them on.”
“We have the Zemeni,” said Leoni, hopeful as always.
“And the Kerch won’t ally with Fjerda outright,” Genya added. “Not at the risk of their precious neutrality.”
“But they may be angry enough to secretly lend Fjerda aid,” said Adrik.
“What about the Apparat?” Genya asked, turning her cup in its saucer.
Nikolai shook his head. “The man has changed sides so many times, I wonder if even he knows where his loyalties lie.”
“He always goes to the side he believes will win,” said David. “It’s what he did in the civil war.”
“That explains why he’s in Fjerda,” Adrik said gloomily.
“Unfortunately,” Nikolai admitted, “Adrik is right. Fjerda has the advantage and if they march, it will mean an end to a free Ravka.” Demidov would take the throne. Grisha would be rounded up for trial. His people would be subjects of a puppet king committed to serving Fjerda’s interests. And his country? It would become a staging ground for the inevitable fight between Fjerda and Shu Han. “My desire to be beloved conflicts mightily with our need to win this war. I’ve become an accountant, tallying lives to be taken, lives to be spared.”
“The choices we’re making are awful ones,” said Genya.
“But we must make them just the same. I hope diplomacy may still win this fight. I hope we can offer Fjerda a peace that they will take. I hope we’ll never need to unleash the terrors we seek to build.”
“And what happens when we’re out of hope?” asked David.
“We end where we always end,” said Nikolai. “With war.”
13
NINA
THE ROYAL GUARDS ESCORTED Nina back to the Brums’ quarters. With every step, she wondered if an order would ring out down the corridors for her to be clapped in chains and thrown into a jail cell, then burned as a witch for good measure. Her whole body was slicked in cold sweat and her heart was pounding.
But no alarm came. Once Nina had understood the Grimjer queen’s longing, her fear for her son, she hadn’t hesitated to play on it. It was cruel, but if she could guide the queen’s faith in Djel, that meant she might open the door for the Saints, possibly even Grisha. Nina’s life and her country’s future were at stake, and she would use whatever weapon she could fashion to win this fight.
All of the Brums were waiting in their grand parlor, a fire roaring in the hearth. A tray with a cold supper of cured meats and pickled vegetables had been laid out along with barley water and a bottle of br?nnvin, but it didn’t look as if anyone had done more than pick at it. Nina went straight to Hanne and practically fell into her arms.
For once she didn’t have to pretend weakness or worry. She had taken a huge leap with the queen, made another reckless move, but maybe, maybe it would pay off.
“What happened?” said Hanne. “What did she say?”
“Very little.” Nina tried to pull herself back together as Ylva settled her onto the sofa and poured her a glass of water. She had been too busy recovering from her audience with Queen Agathe to come up with a proper lie to tell. “I scarcely know what to think.”
At least that much was true.
“What did she ask you?” Brum queried. He was watching Nina very closely, and everything in his stance spoke caution. He had invited a near stranger into his home and today, both his daughter and this stranger had put his political career at risk.
“She’s concerned for her son,” said Nina. “I was never blessed with children, but I do understand. She is sending investigators to my old village to confirm that I am who I say.”
Hanne drew in a breath at this, her face turning ashen.
“And what will they find?” asked Brum.
“Jarl!” exclaimed Ylva. “How can you ask that?”
“It’s better that we know now so that we can better protect ourselves.”
Nina took Ylva’s hand. “Please,” she said, forcing admiration into her voice. “Do not quarrel. Of course your husband would want to protect his family. It is his duty and his honor to do so. I can’t tell you how often I wish my husband were still here to look after me.” She let her exhaustion pour into her voice, making it quiver. “Commander Brum, I can only assure you that the queen’s men will find no reason to doubt me or my sad history.”
Brum seemed to thaw a bit. “It is a dangerous time. For all of us.”
“But maybe that will change,” said Ylva. “Through their kindness and piety, Hanne and Mila earned Prince Rasmus’ true regard today. He wishes to see them again. That favor can only be a good thing.”
“I’m not so sure,” muttered Brum, pouring himself a tiny glass of br?nnvin. “The prince is capricious. His health has made him unpredictable and secretive.”
Hanne bristled at this. “He is in pain, Papa. Perhaps that’s why he isn’t always in good temper.”
“Perhaps.” Brum sat. He was choosing his words carefully. “He’s not fond of my advice. It’s possible he may take it out on you.”
“If that’s the case, there’s nothing we can do about it.” Hanne’s tone was matter-of-fact. “He is the crown prince. If he wishes to string me up by my toes, he may do it. If his mother the queen wishes to send Mila out into the snow barefoot, then she may do that too. But for now, all he has done is command us to join him for lunch, and I hardly see how we can refuse him.”
Ylva was smiling. “She’s right, you know. We’ve raised a very sensible daughter.”
Brum’s expression remained unyielding. “Just be on your guard, Hanne. And you too, Mila. The Ice Court is a sorry place for soft hearts.”
Niweh sesh, Nina thought as she and Hanne said their good nights.
I have no heart.
* * *
Two days later, Hanne put on one of her new gowns of sea-foam silk and Nina dressed in more modest rose wool. They’d been too deluged with invitations since Maidenswalk to do much more than try to keep up, but now Nina fastened a necklace of blue topaz around Hanne’s neck and said, “Your father was right.”