Oskar can’t turn me into a statue and park me in the garden as a roost for the pigeons for a few centuries. I doubt there’s a cell anywhere in Oskar’s dungeons that could hold me. That’s why I’m not afraid of Oskar. I also have my diplomatic credentials. Oskar can send me home, but that’s about the worst “punishment” he can inflict. As to how much trouble I’d be in with Ellisar if I were to be foolish enough to be expelled, that’s another matter entirely.

  I am hurrying back to Kenric. I hope to find him in the same mood I left him in. As I look around, though, this outing has taken far too long, and he’s probably up, dressed, and about the business of the day. If that’s the case, I shall be quite disappointed. I get back to our rooms and find Kenric already dressed. He really is exquisite in the clothing I’ve chosen for him. My expression must have shown my disappointment. I get a look, and once he’s done adjusting his belt, a coffee-laden kiss.

  That kiss says his mood hasn’t changed much, but we have to set aside what we want for what needs to be done. For now. That kiss means that tonight will be interesting. We’ll see how today goes. If Hedde can really quash the other dukes, then I’m content to leave well enough alone. Unless I miss my guess, Oskar will take Kenric out gambling tonight. It will be late before he can get away, and this will be a very long day. While I’m contemplating this, the ladies come, and my dark, skulking dress is whisked away, exchanged for a much brighter ensemble.

  Now that he and I look the part, we head off to breakfast. It’s a lovely affair, and we sit at one of the tables.

  I spot Iwan in the doorway and wave him over. “Allow me to introduce you to my husband, Lord Kenric. Kenric, this is Duchess Ina’s cousin, Iwan Nalis. We ran into him this morning, and he was telling me what absurd gossip there is about me.”

  I smirk at Iwan for a moment, “I do hope your morning meeting went better than my own.”

  Iwan laughs, “Nosy and cheeky. I like it. Let me just get a plate.”

  He returns with his plate and coffee. He eyes my plate dubiously. I have a stack of these crispy potato cakes, sausages, eggs, fruit, and oatmeal.

  “Now I see why Ina was laughing about the rumors that you don’t eat,” Iwan says.

  “It was a long, hard ride to get here from his uncle’s hunting lodge. I’m hungry.” I shrug, waving a sausage. “These other ladies can nibble on mint and cucumber sandwiches, but I need more than that so I don’t face-plant. Or harm someone because I’m in a snit from being hungry.”

  I look around the room at the other women’s plates. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. I’m actually impressed. I thought humans needed more food than that. It’s a few slices of fruit and some coffee. I can’t imagine… How are they not all ready to rip someone’s face off constantly?”

  Kenric laughs, “Perhaps that explains some of the attitude you’ve complained about?”

  I look at Kenric, eyes wide, “You might be right. So, Ladies Poker Night needs to have real food. No mint & cucumber sandwiches. Whiskey, cigars, and Rekke’s dumplings.”

  Kenric laughs, “More dumplings? I thought you had your fill last night.”

  “Not with those. She makes different kinds. Besides, we shall ban corsets on Ladies’ Poker Night. Corsets and any other uncomfortable items of clothing are specifically uninvited.”

  “When is the first one?” Kenric asks.

  “Whenever Oskar takes you out gambling,” I reply.

  Half the court is likely to go with them, at least for this first outing. If Kenric can prove his value, more so than the other lords, he’ll become a regular.

  Suppose I can do the same with these ladies. In that case, we’ll have regular meetings where I can start introducing them to some new and dangerous ideas, like self-agency, financial literacy, actual literacy, and maybe even weapons. In short, all the things a woman needs to regain control of her life from the overbearing, greedy men around her. Most of my ladies are in the same. Emily is the only one whose family supports her. The others get grudging support at best.

  Larissa’s husband sends her money, but no one knows how long that will last. That’s probably going to stop if this invasion happens because there won’t be a way to send her money. Melina’s family has been unkind about her being let go without a reference. Her husband has supported her, but most of her family refuses to understand why she didn’t just “do whatever she had to." This is how women are treated here.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Kenric nudges me, “You looked quite grim, love. What are you thinking about?”

  “One of the things I’ve been tasked with is opening a branch of the Fey bank here for trading purposes,” I explain, “I’m not looking forward to dealing with a bunch of bankers who think women can’t read, write or do sums.”

  Iwan looks thoughtful, “There is one banker here who might do business with you, but the rest would either turn their noses up or try to cheat you constantly. He’s a bit of a scandal himself. I can take you to meet him after lunch, if you like.”

  “You’ll have to tell me why he’s a bit of a scandal, but that might just do,” I reply.

  Iwan laughs, “He took a deposit from a woman.”

  Hmm, he sounds like he might be perfect. “That would be lovely. I’ll have to find a location or have something built for both the embassy and the bank. I suppose that none of the men who deal in real estate will deal with me, either.”

  “No, they’ll require Kenric’s signature for everything,” Iwan says.

  “I’ll have to deputize Kenric then,” I frown. I turn to Kenric, “It seems that you’ll be Ellisar’s other representative until more Fey arrive.”

  We sit chatting for a moment before I see Arvo, the steward, hurrying toward us. I signal my honor guard, who become instantly alert.

  My ladies join us at the table, and Iwan smirks. “It seems that our king is up to his usual tricks. I’ll call for you this afternoon. I’ll see if any of the property brokers will deal with you.”

  I nod as I gulp down the last of my breakfast, since I’ll be locked in my rooms until lunch, possibly beyond. True to form, Arvo calls Kenric away to deal with some trivial thing, so we all rush back towards our rooms.

  As I round a corner, Oskar pops out from behind some potted plants, “Víl?, how lovely to see you again.”

  My eyes narrow as I curtsey. When Oskar finally allows me to rise, he’s leaning over me, possessively. “You look magnificent, Víl?. Clearly, your husband is doing his duty, but he lacks a King's ambition. He protects you, but he cannot command you.”

  I chuckle, “No one commands me. Even my king, Ellisar, requests. You mistake my submission at the temple for my nature. It was an act of grace for my husband, meant to quell something that a stronger ruler would have done.”

  Oskar reeks of arousal and jealousy, and now it’s tinged by anger. Oskar’s jaw tightens, “Grace? Or something else, perhaps? You think you can escape me by hiding behind your needlework and your insignificant husband? I find your defiance... intoxicating. Tell me, Víl?, does he excite you as much as I can?”

  I snort dismissively and narrow my eyes at him. I do believe he’s gone mad. “Fear? You, Your Majesty? No. You mistake my pity for fear. I have battled things far more terrifying than a man who hides in his walls and steals his own Queen's privacy.”

  A flash of pure rage flickers across Oskar’s face, before it’s secured behind the courtier’s mask. “I think you forget yourself. A King takes what he desires. And I desire a woman with fire, not a meek puppet. You will come to me, Víl?. It is a matter of when, not if.”

  I prowl towards him, my voice is low and dangerous, “Not all fire is meant to warm. Fire, when it rages, burns. I suggest you return to your rooms, Your Majesty. You seem… unwell. Perhaps you’re not fully recovered.”

  Without waiting for permission, I drop a curtsey and march away.

  Oskar stands in the hallway, watching Víl?’s retreat.

  Grethe rounds the corner with her ladies and stares at Oskar. “Planning to replace me with a queen that’s not even human? How is that going to play with the rest of the court? Going to set aside your sons? Snatch away their royal birthright? Do you really think Jannick is going to roll over for that? Since when am I a meek puppet?”

  Oskar rounds on Grethe, “She’s… intoxicating. You… You spread your legs for whoever I tell you.”

  Grethe laughs, dark and bitter, “She’s right. You’re still unwell. She’s single-handedly propped up your throne and cut her own enemies at court down to size. Why? Because they thought of interfering with her marriage. Now you seem to be locked into some fever dream where you think you can pursue her and she’ll welcome it. She won’t. If you keep this up, you’ll be lucky if your head remains atop your shoulders. She was telling the truth when she said the only thing she wants in Centis is Kenric.”

  “Bah! What do you know of anything?” Oskar says.

  Grethe frowns at him, “I know more than you. The very first question she asked me was how to put your right off. She said that it didn’t matter if it meant puking on your shoes, she’d do it. That woman sees you as something to be scraped off the bottom of her slippers.”

  Oskar snorts, “Unlike you. You do whatever I tell you to do.”

  Grethe frowns at him, “I do as you order because if I don’t, you'll abuse my ladies. I do it out of regard for them, not because I have any feelings for you.”

  “Then why allow me into your chambers at all?” Oskar asks.

  “I’m the Queen,” Grethe growls, “It’s expected, never mind that you burned any feelings, aside from hatred, out of me, long ago. Go ahead. Keep chasing her. I hope I live to see the day I get to spit on your head over the postern gate.”

  Grethe turns to her ladies, “Come along. We need to find some snacks and good seats to watch this farce play out. Our king seems to have a lot in common with that goat herder in that new play.”

  Titters and giggles meet this last announcement, and Oskar frowns heavily before stomping away. Grethe, sighing, takes a circuitous route through the castle before arriving at Víl? and Kenric’s rooms. She knocks, and someone asks who it is. Grethe is announced and gratified to hear the locks being thrown to admit her.

  Grethe steps inside, “Princess Víl?, I don’t know what has happened between the two of you, but I’ve never seen Oskar like this. He’s obsessed. He’s like one of those tracking hounds that has a scent.”

  We bring in a new character to our stage. Earl Iwan Nalis, Duchess Ina's cousin. What should Iwan get up to? I'd love to hear your ideas. I might even use some of them.