Notwithstanding her desire to have no dealings with House Curlinte for a time, and the inappropriate tone of Diani’s message, Olesya had spared no effort in preparing the castle for the girl’s arrival. It was to be Diani’s first visit to the royal city as duchess in her own right, and custom dictated that she be received as befitted her new title. She would be met at the city gates by a hundred of Yserne’s soldiers, including men bearing the colors of both houses. Heralds would greet her with the Sanbiri anthem and, of course, the queen herself would welcome her to the city, declaring her guestfriend of all the people of Yserne. There would be a feast this night and a sword tournament among the soldiers of the royal army and whatever men Diani brought with her from Curlinte. Musicians would perform at the feast and in the streets of the city, as would tumblers and Qirsi fire conjurers. To the people of the city, it would almost seem that the Festival had arrived early. Diani, the queen was quite certain, would remember this visit for the rest of her days.
No sooner had she formed the thought than Olesya heard bells ringing from the east gate of the city. Diani’s company was approaching the city walls.
The queen wrapped herself in the royal mantle-blue and red, the colors of Yserne-and placed on her brow the silver circlet worn by Yserne’s queens for more than five centuries. Glancing briefly at her image in the large mirror on her sleeping chamber’s far wall, she stepped to the door and pulled it open, only to find Abeni ja Krenta, her archminister, standing in the corridor, her hand poised to knock.
The Qirsi woman raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Some would say you have gleaning power, Your Highness. You anticipate my knock before you hear it.”
Olesya gave an indulgent smile. “I merely heard the same bells you did, Abeni.”
The archminister’s eyebrows went up in feigned innocence. “Were there bells? I didn’t hear them.”
“Come along,” the queen said, still smiling as she started down the corridor. Abeni quickly fell in step beside her, smoothing her ministerial robes with a white hand. “I take it all is ready for Diani’s arrival.”
“Yes, Your Highness. The kitchenmaster is complaining that the cellarmaster has chosen the wrong wine for the feast tonight, but I’ve spoken with them both and made it clear that they’re to have the matter settled before the duchess sets foot in the castle.”
“I imagine they have their swords drawn as we speak.”
Abeni gave a small laugh. “No doubt, Your Highness.”
They emerged from the castle at the base of the queen’s tower and crossed through the vast network of gates and wards that guarded the fortress from would-be invaders. At the outermost gate, they were joined by eight soldiers who arrayed themselves around the queen, the silver hilts of their blades gleaming in the sunlight. From the castle gate, the queen and her escort followed a winding lane down toward the city. It was lined with people who had set aside their chores and business to greet Curlinte’s duchess, and seeing the queen, they cheered loudly.
Before they reached the entrance to the city, Olesya heard the first strains of Sanbiri’s anthem echo off the castle walls. Diani’s company had reached the city gate, and the queen would do the same just as the anthem ended.
Olesya glanced at Abeni and favored her with a smile. “You planned this well, Archminister. You’re to be commended.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. It was nothing.”
As the last strains of the anthem died away, Olesya stepped through the city gate with Abeni just behind her. The soldiers of Yserne stood to the side of the road, their blades raised in salute, their blue-and-red uniforms as bright as new blooms. But Olesya could not take her eyes off the duchess. Diani sat on her great bay, her face white and covered with sweat, though the day was cool. Sertio, her father, was beside her atop a grey stallion, his hand holding her reins. Behind them, all mounted, a company of soldiers waited in silence, twenty strong, a surprisingly large contingent of guards for such a journey. The queen felt her stomach tighten.
“We’ll dispense with the formalities, Archminister,” Olesya said in a low voice.
Abeni nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”
The queen stepped forward, opening her arms in greeting. “Diani, duchess of Curlinte, we welcome you to Yserne. I name you guest-friend of this house so that all will know that you are under my protection. So long as you remain in this city, the soldiers of Yserne will guard your life as they would my own.”
Diani swung herself off her mount stiffly, and knelt before her. A moment later, Sertio and the Curlinte guards did the same.
“My thanks, Your Highness,” the duchess said, her voice strained. “You do us great honor by welcoming us so.”
“Rise, child. Let me look at you.”
Diani and the men in her company stood and the duchess kept herself utterly still, suffering the queen’s gaze as if she were ashamed of her appearance.
“What’s happened?” Olesya asked. She cast a look at Sertio, whose concern was as obvious as Diani’s weariness. “Is she ill?”
“I’ll tell you everything when we’re safely in the castle,” the duchess said. And as she spoke, her eyes wandered not to the soldiers or the mob of people visible through the gate but rather to Abeni.
Only then did the queen realize that Diani had come to Yserne without her first minister.
“Of course.” Olesya faced the Qirsi woman. “Perhaps you should return to the castle ahead of us, Archminister. Make certain that our guests’ quarters are ready.”
Abeni was eying the duchess, her expression grim, her cheeks even more pallid than usual. “Yes, Your Highness.” She bowed to Diani. “Welcome to Yserne, my lady.”
Diani said nothing, though she did nod once.
Clearly the duchess was in a good deal of pain, but she walked with the queen back up to the castle, even managing a smile and an occasional wave to the men and women cheering her arrival. She was her mother’s daughter.
Once inside the castle, Diani and Sertio followed the queen back to her chambers, none of them speaking. Only when the door was closed and they were alone did Olesya turn and look at the duchess again.
“Now tell me,” she said. “What’s happened?”
Diani dropped herself into a chair, her eyes closed. She should have waited for leave from the queen to sit, but Olesya was not about to remark on it now.
“There was an attempt on my life.”
“There were two,” her father corrected.
“During your journey here?”
The young woman shook her head. “Near the end of the waning. This is why we came to see you.”
“You were wounded?”
“Yes, but the wounds have healed.”
“They’re not bleeding anymore,” Sertio broke in. “That doesn’t mean that you’re whole again. Three arrows,” he said to the queen. “One in the leg, one in the chest, one in the back. The healer told her to rest.” This last came out as a plea, as if he wanted Olesya to tell Diani to get herself to bed.
“I did rest, Father.”
“Not nearly enough. We shouldn’t have ridden so soon.”
“Her Highness had to know, and we agreed that sending a messenger presented too many risks.”
“Who did this?” the queen asked.
Diani opened her eyes, her gaze clear. “It was made to seem that Edamo ordered the assassination. The archers had their heads shaved, and their arrows were marked blue and yellow.”
“But you don’t believe this.”
“Edamo isn’t that bold.”
“Have you captured the assassins? Have you questioned them?”
“They were murdered themselves,” Sertio said, “by another man who made the second attempt on Diani’s life the following day. He’s dead as well.”
They didn’t believe the Brugaosans were responsible, which left only one other choice. A lioness wasn’t supposed to show fear, but Olesya had to struggle to keep her voice steady as she said, “Your first minister isn’t with you. Is he responsible?”