‘This is not up for discussion. Lirah will cut your hair and we will travel to Paladozza and try very, very hard to keep you alive. You were recognised within seconds in a province that can switch its allegiance at a whim.’
Quintana wept. ‘My father said it was the only thing that was beautiful about me.’
‘He lied, Your Majesty!’
Cruelty always seemed to stop Quintana’s tears. Froi’s cruelty had stopped them in Tariq’s caves when he told her why he was sent to Charyn. Gargarin’s words stemmed them now. Froi knew it was the indignant one who wept and the ice queen who knew how to endure the cruelty. He watched it all play out on her expression until Lirah took her hand and, sending Gargarin a scathing look, led Quintana away.
Froi joined Gargarin where he sat on the bale of hay, studying the maps.
‘When do we leave?’ Froi asked.
‘Early. I want us to get to Paladozza through this mountain pass that becomes a thoroughfare for cattle and goods by midmorning. Then it’s a day or two across flatlands.’
‘And then what?’ Arjuro asked, from the stall beside them. ‘Are we going to travel from province to province begging them for sanction?’
‘De Lancey will take her. He will be pleased with Orlanda’s pledge of her men and he’ll organise the rest. If De Lancey succeeds, Quintana returns to the Citavita with a Guard made up of the united provinces and there may be some hope for Charyn yet.’
‘The Provincara pledged the men to you, Gargarin,’ Arjuro argued. ‘Not De Lancey. Not to another province.’
‘And what do you propose I do?’ Gargarin asked. ‘March into the Citavita as the Captain of the future King’s Guard? Do I look the part?’
‘Captains don’t make the plans,’ Froi said quietly. ’They carry them out. In the absence of a King, a First Man makes all the plans.’
‘I’m no First Advisor,’ Gargarin corrected. ‘I’m just one who doesn’t have to be gods’ blessed to predict what will happen.
‘And what is that?’ Froi asked. Arjuro came around to their stall, waiting for Gargarin’s response.
‘Quintana of Charyn lives only until she births the first,’ Arjuro said bluntly when Gargarin didn’t respond. ‘It will be the first who is returned to the Citavita and whoever has him in their possession will rule as regent until the King comes of age. Let us hope that it is not Bestiano for the sake of the child and let us hope it is not a Provincaro for the sake of the whole kingdom.’
‘And if it’s a girl child?’ Froi asked.
‘You pray to every god you trust, Froi, that this child is not a girl,’ Gargarin said. ‘Because she may end the curse, but they still need a King to rule. This is not Lumatere. They will break Quintana, producing another and then another until it’s a male, and if that does not happen, then they will begin on her daughter when she’s of age. Do not underestimate Charyn’s desire for the heir to come from royal blood, regardless of how they feel about the dead King.’
Froi shuddered. ‘What do you mean she’ll live only until she births the first?’ he asked.
‘If I was Bestiano and I knew the truth, I’d have her tried for the murder of a King. The people of Charyn would accept the ruling. Why care what happens to the Princess if they have the heir and cursebreaker?’
‘And how will they rid themselves of Quintana the last?’ Froi spat out the words. ‘Will they ensure that she dies in childbirth? Will they have some ambitious boy from the dregs of Charyn toss her from the window of a palace to please his master? Wouldn’t want her there as a reminder of Charyn’s curse, would you?’
Gargarin had proven himself to be a man who rarely lost his temper, but Froi could tell by his clenched fists that he had pushed him to the edge.
‘If you do nothing to protect her, I’ll take her away.’
‘Is that a threat?’ Gargarin asked.
‘No, a promise,’ Froi said. ‘You try to stop me, Gargarin. Just try. I’ll break every bone in your body. You know I will. I’ll take her to Sarnak or even to Sendecane where no one ever need know who she once was.’
‘But do you know who will stop you, Froi?’ Gargarin said. ‘She will. Allow her the dignity of being able to save her kingdom.’
‘Dignity,’ Froi spat. ‘You’re a cold-hearted dog. You tell her there’s nothing beautiful about her and you call that dignity.’
Gargarin stared up at him coldly. ‘If that is the way you chose to interpret my words, then there is nothing I can do to change the way you think.’
Gargarin walked away. Arjuro was silent, but suddenly he flinched with surprise.
Froi turned to see Lirah, her hair hacked short, her stare towards Gargarin defiant. If anything, her furious work had made her more breathtaking. She was all face, all eyes of a storm and Froi could not believe he was born from one so beautiful.
Gargarin stared at her coldly, shaking his head with bitter amusement. ‘I’m not the enemy, Lirah. Save your fury for when we confront Bestiano.’
Gargarin pushed past her to the back of the stall where Quintana sat on the ground with her head in her hands. Her hair was not as short as Lirah’s. It rested at her chin and she resembled one of the pages from the palace of Lumatere.
Froi watched Gargarin sit on the bale of hay before her, clearly uncomfortable. After a while he reached out to lift her chin, but she resisted and kept her eyes cast to the ground.
‘It would have been feasible for the gods and Oracle to choose another vessel to carry the first, but they chose you, Your Highness. Do you know why?’
Froi winced. He would have begun with an apology. Even he knew that. ‘No stories or explanations,’ Finnikin had once told him. ‘When it comes to women, straight into an apology and you will find the rest of your life bearable.’ Although Finnikin and Isaboe spent much of their time arguing, Froi still believed it to be sound advice.
Quintana was silent. Froi wondered if she had heard the question.
‘Because I’m the King’s daughter,’ she answered after a while. ‘That’s why the gods chose me. Because the royal bloodline is everything. It began with the gods.’
‘True, but why not Tariq? He was still of royal blood.’
‘But they did choose Tariq.’
‘No, Quintana. They didn’t. You know that. They chose you and they chose Froi, not Tariq.’ He glanced at Froi. ‘I can’t say why they chose Froi. I know little of him, despite everything. But I think they chose you because they were watching and saw that not once in this cursed and wretched life of yours have you lost hope or complained.’
The Reginita looked up, indignant. ‘Oh I complain all the time, Sir Gargarin. All the time. They must not have been listening close enough,’ she said, ‘Once or twice I even threw a rock at one of the frescoes on the palace walls placed there by the gods. “Who cares if you can draw?” I shouted. ‘Send us some hope.” ’
Gargarin sighed. ‘But they did send us hope.’
She shook her head.
‘Do you remember those days they had me chained to your father’s desk, believing me to be Arjuro? At first I wanted to hate you. When I believed you to be Lirah’s child, I knew in an instant that you were the King’s and not mine. You have one or two of his features. But I surprised myself. I lived for those moments when you came into the room with your wonder at the world. “Good morning, Arjuro,” you would say to me and although it wasn’t my name, and although I was chained to a desk like an animal, you made me feel human.’
She raised her eyes, almost shyly. Froi liked the way Quintana’s strange face was framed by the hacked length of hair.
‘And if someone asked me to paint a picture of joy and hope, I would have painted you. In my eyes, that is beauty. Not what your father had to say about your hair.’
‘You’re only saying that to make us feel better.’
Gargarin was amused by the idea. ‘No, not really. I have no idea how to go around making people feel better. Ask Arjuro. He always said I had the ability to walk into a room and make everyone feel instantly worse. And to be honest, I found your hair quite annoying. Too much of it, everywhere. You look much more handsome now.’