"Or the ability to make it seem so," he said. "A little selective physical violence and a lot of illusion. It was, as I understand it, a desperate measure. But the Queen truly feared Elibet. Now she fears you."
"She-she murdered my mother?" This was almost too much to believe, yet the horrible sense of it was appearing. To eliminate a rival without suspicion-Xylina herself had never questioned the reality of the earthquake. Now she realized that there had been odd aspects, things she had attributed to the vagaries of cruel nature. This explained those things. An imperfect illusion.
But he was continuing. "While you were a child, she ignored you, for you were of no consequence, and she does not waste thought or effort on inconsequentials. She permitted the story of a curse to spread throughout the city in order to keep anyone from aiding you, but she was content to leave it at that and take no active role."
So that was where the story of the curse came from! Maybe there really was a curse, but as Lycia said, no one with any sense believed in it-until the Queen began giving it credence, and then it became believable.
Ware paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. He stared over her head, at a point on the wall, and continued. "As you grew older and did not succumb to poverty or illness, she worried a little. But then-then you came late to your woman-trial. Adria assumed it was because you had no strong talent for conjuration, and were afraid. She was pleased. When she heard how you had no real choice of opponents, she was elated. She came to witness the death of her rival Elibet's line for herself. This time she did not need to take direct action."
So that was why the Queen was at her woman-trial! She had wanted to see Xylina die!
Ware shook his head. "But then-oh then, Xylina, you proved that you were truly your mother's daughter. You proved that you had inherited your mother's power and more. You showed the entire city that you were powerful,and clever, and at that moment, the Queen knew you were very likely the one Mazonite who could take her throne away from her."
"But I never-" Xylina croaked, appalled. "But I haven't any such aspiration! I don't-"
"It does not matter," Ware said, pitilessly. Now he lowered his gaze to hers, as if he were endeavoring to make certain that she heard and believed him. "It does not matter what you want, what you intend. Adria is right. Your ability will ultimately lead you to challenge her. Even if you never develop the ambition on your own, there will be those who will persuade you that it must be done."
She must have made some signal that she found his notion unlikely, for he frowned. "Xylina, I have seen all this before," he said sternly. "What do you think your friend Lycia and her circle are doing, if not slowly encouraging you to think that Adria is not as good a ruler as she could be? Are they not reminding you of her abuses of power that have near-ruined you, and telling you of other such abuses?"
Shocked, she could only nod, for that was precisely what had been happening.
Ware smiled grimly. "You see. Soon it will go beyond simple complaining, and turn to suggestions of what might be done about Adria. And then all eyes will turn to you, for none of them have the power of conjuration in the strength that you have it. You would be the only logical choice for a challenger."
"But what if I left them-" she began. "If I stop going to their gatherings, and slowly sever the relationship-"
Ware laughed, softly. "If you leave them, after all they have done for you, you will feel you have been ungrateful, and will have to return," Ware replied, before she could finish the sentence. "You know that is true, as you know that they will come to you and make you feel ungrateful for spurning them. And indeed they will have reason, for they have treated you generously."
That was true. They had not only helped her in her time of despair, they had given her their time and friendship. She could not condemn them for that. Their course made sense: to promote a friend to be Queen, replacing the bad Queen. Yet this was folly for Xylina! There must be something she could do, she thought frantically, trying to come up with some plan. "Perhaps I can persuade them to another course-" she offered.
He shrugged. "I do not think you can. And if it is not Lycia and her friends, it will be someone else. Perhaps even your own good friend Faro. I am certain he harbors an ambition of his own, to be the silent advisor behind the throne. Who could blame him? It is the highest position to which any slave can aspire, better even than being freed! Do not doubt me,he will be primary among those who encourage you to challenge Adria-and the sooner he discovers that your enemy is the Queen, the sooner he will tell you to challenge her in order to defend yourself. His very hatred for Mazonites will make him urge you to it, even if he has no ambition for himself." He paused for breath, and regarded her with a solemn gaze. "You will find yourself wanting, eager, to challenge the Queen. Perhaps not this year, nor the next, but it will happen in due course."
Xylina could only shake her head a little. She felt as if someone had dropped a wall upon her, and she was too stunned even to breathe. This was all too much, too soon. She had expected an enemy, she had not expected this kind of an enemy. She felt like a mouse, looking up at a shadow, expecting to see a jay come to steal her corn, and seeing instead a hawk come to devour her.
"Adria sees all this, as she has seen the ambitions of others before you," Ware said gently. "She knows she must nullify you before you can come close to challenging her. That is how she remains Queen, and has done so for as long as she has. You are not the first child who has posed a challenge to her power, and you likely will not be the last. You are merely the most serious so far."
Xylina finally took a breath. She had assumed that her enemy was some woman in a high position; she had never once considered that it could have been the Queen! If it had been anyone else, she could have exercised her right as a citizen to petition the Queen for a hearing. She could have set her grievances before the Queen. She could have confronted her enemy and forced the issue, making it clear that she had no vendetta and wanted only to live in peace.
Wait. She could still do that. The fact that her enemy was the Queen in no way changed that.
"I must go to Queen Adria myself," she said, pushing her chair away from the desk. She shook her head, distractedly. "I must do it now-reassure her that I have no intentions or ambitions to-"
"Oh, Xylina!" To her surprise, he began laughing, softly. She settled back into her chair, staring at him. "Oh, poor, naive child! You truly have no idea how sure the Queen is that you are a threat! Adria is a realist, my dear. Yes, she will believe that you mean what you say now -I think you are innocent enough to convince even her of that. But she is well aware that you will not remain innocent forever."
"I don't understand," Xylina said, half pleading, half in protest. She had never imagined anything like this. She could not see herself becoming the woman that Ware described.
Yet if she thought Lycia and the others were in danger, and thought she had to protect myself-
Then they might persuade her.
Ware shrugged. "I have seen many of your years, and many young girls like you, Xylina. The Queen has also seen many of your kind come and go. In time, she knows that you will become hardened and ambitious. You will think about how she tried to destroy you, and how she did destroy your mother, and your anger will grow, your resentment burn in your heart, and your need for vengeance will fester. One day, you will look at her, and you will think, 'That old hag is no longer the woman she was. I can take her. I can make her feel all the misery she made me feel.' And you will do it, Xylina."
"No-" she mouthed, unable to picture herself as he painted her. Willing to act to protect herself and others, yes-but hard? Ambitious? Ruthless? Yet he was right about her mother; already the rage of that discovery was a spreading fire, tempering her will with its heat.