The King's Guard Part 9

"Your Majesty," I say.

He looks up, startled. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and lines of worry age his face. He rushes forward as if to embrace me. "Hector, I'm so glad you- What's that?" He pulls up short as I reach under my cloak for the baby.

"We should speak privately, sire," I say, revealing the now- wriggling bundle.

The door to the queen's chambers opens, and Dr. Enzo sticks his head out. "The queen requests your attendance, Your Majesty." He sees me. Then the baby. "Oh. You'd better come too."

We step inside. Rosaura is propped up near her balcony. Her face is pale and drawn. Her hair is plastered to her head with sweat, and her cheeks are wet with tears. I have seen too many tears in recent days.

Miria stands at her bedside. She still wears her traveling dress, stained with dirt and torn; she has also just arrived.

"Where's Isadora?" she says when she sees me.

I shake my head. "She refuses to come."

Rosaura reaches out her hands. "Is this her baby? Let me see."

Miria must have told her everything. I hand over the boy. He starts to twitch and fuss as soon as he leaves the warmth of my chest. He's wrapped in remnants of the queen's quilt, which is freshly laundered but faded from Aracely's attempts to remove the birthing stains. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but-"

Rosaura isn't listening. Her entire attention is captured by the baby. She takes him and cradles him gently to her chest. So different from Isadora. As if he is a precious gift. She strokes the swirling dark hair on his head and whispers to him, and then she tucks him under her sweat-soaked shirt and takes him to her breast.

And suddenly I notice the other details-her flaccid belly, the b.l.o.o.d.y sheets wadded up in a corner, Dr. Enzo's sleeves rolled up.

Dr. Enzo catches my eye and shakes his head.

I look again and see that her cheeks are not just flushed with tears, but with fever. Something has gone terribly wrong, something even beyond the tragedy of losing her baby.

Alejandro drapes an arm across my shoulders. His gesture is casual, but his breath is jagged, and I get the feeling he's taking what comfort he can.

"How much has Miria told you?" I ask.

"Not much," Alejandro says.

"Everything," Rosaura answers. She presses her lips to the baby's head as he nurses. "I'm just so glad you're all back safely."

But we almost didn't make it back. Reluctantly, I say, "I know it's a bad time, but there are some things I have to tell you. You have to know . . ."

"Spit it out, Hector," Alejandro says.

"An a.s.sa.s.sin came after us. Only Lord-Commander Enrico and Captain Mandrano knew where we were going."

The room grows very still.

Alejandro steps away from me. He rubs at his chin, thinking hard. "I believe Captain Mandrano is above reproach in this instance."

"I agree." I take a deep breath. I'm about to lay accusations against a superior officer. "I know Enrico is personally ambitious and likes to consider himself a political player. Mandrano is the perfect second-in-command for him precisely because he hates politics and does not have ambition."

Everyone is staring at me sharply, but I press on.

"I don't know for sure that Enrico sent a killer after us. I can't prove it. I do know that during our short time in the training yard, I observed Mandrano's unquestioned loyalty to you, while Enrico did everything he could to subvert your commands."

"Such as?" Alejandro prods.

"In your letter, did you specify that Enrico was to send Tomas and Marlo with me?"

"Of course. Just like you asked."

"He sent two others instead-boys he thought were expendable, that the Guard would be well rid of."

Alejandro frowns. "We'll have to decide what to do about him."

He says it as if the decision is a nebulous, future thing. So very like my friend.

"Or you could decide now," Rosaura says gently.

"Give him what he wants," I press.

"Reward him?"

"Give him a t.i.tle and a small estate somewhere remote. Mandrano is loyal and would mirror your votes in the Quorum for the next few years while you groomed another commander."

"And who should that be, do you think?" Alejandro asks.

"I have no idea! You're the king. You figure something out. Though this, at least, isn't a decision you must make right away."

Alejandro turns away and faces the wall, crossing his arms. Softly, he says, "We received word of Lord Solvano's death just this morning. They delivered the weapon that killed him to me. It was a bronze dagger with a bone handle. The kind issued to attendants of the queen."

"I didn't-" Miria starts to protest, but I interrupt.

"That's the other thing I needed to tell you. I killed him."

Alejandro whirls to face me, and I step back involuntarily. But he's smiling. "Liar," he chides. "You're protecting her."

I wilt a little in relief.

"I admit, I was stunned," he says. "But it's actually not such a bad situation."

"I . . . I tried to make it look like an accident."

"Hector!" Rosaura exclaims.

But Alejandro is nodding. "Vicenc can start circulating the story. Rosaura's father will take over as portmaster. And now"-he brightens visibly-"Enrico can take custody of the Fortress of Wind."

"The place is in terrible disrepair," I say meaningfully. "And the staff there has been horribly abused. Everyone there will be glad for new leadership."

I recognize the mischievous glint in his eye. It used to indicate that he was about to send me to the kitchens to steal pollo pibil. "The fortress is a place of profound historical and architectural value," he says. "It should be painstakingly restored to its former glory."

"Such an important task could only be imparted to someone you trust implicitly."

"Like the retired commander of my Guard."

"We must find Isadora and do something to help her," Rosaura interjects.

"Oh, we will," Alejandro says, and I know by his inflection that the "we" is both personal and royal.

Rosaura grimaces as she tries to lift the baby.

"Here, let me burp him for you," Miria says, reaching for the child. She lays him across her shoulder and pats his back.

How do women all know what to do with babies? It's like they have their own special kind of sorcery.

"Who knows the whole story?" Alejandro asks. "About Isadora, the baby, her escape, your return."

"Only the people in this room. And Isadora. My brother and his wife know of her pregnancy and have probably made some guesses, but you can trust them. Some of Solvano's servants knew Isadora was being held captive, but they weren't allowed to see her. Even Lucio and Fernando, the boys who went with me, know very little."

Dr. Enzo takes the child from Miria's arms. "Let me examine him," he says. Rosaura looks on longingly, as if she can't wait to have the baby back in her own arms.

"And how is Isadora?" Alejandro asks. "Is she still as beautiful . . ." He gives his wife an apologetic glance.

"She is everything you remember and more," I say firmly.

Alejandro smiles, an expression tinged with both joy and regret.

"Your Majesty, a word," Dr. Enzo says. He cradles the baby in his arms, even as he swipes a finger into the gumless mouth.

Alejandro steps over to the corner to talk to him in hushed tones.

"Hector," the queen calls, and I move to her side. She whispers, "Miria told me everything about Isadora. Thank you for your kindness to my husband. And thank you"-tears fill her eyes as she stares after the baby in Enzo's arms-"for him. You have given me an incredible gift, Hector."

There are so many things I want to say. Your husband-my friend-does not deserve you, being high on the list. I settle for, "You're welcome."

She smiles. "You're learning," she says. "The less you say, the more your words will matter."

"What now?" I ask.

"For you, I don't know," she says. "A young man who wantonly destroys a quilt handmade for him by the queen of the realm is unlikely to have a promising future."

Before I can reply, Alejandro turns and says, "The queen and I need some privacy. I probably don't have to tell you to speak to no one-but I am telling you, speak to no one."

I cast a final glance toward Rosaura, whose breathing has become weak and shallow. A rock of dread has settled in my gut, and I'm feeling miserable as we leave. I hold the door open for Miria.

"Thank you," I say to her. "For everything you did."

"Oh, I don't know if you want to thank me yet," she says.

"What does that mean?"

But she walks away without an explanation.

15.

THE palace is frantically busy for the next few days while I sit in my old quarters, no longer the king's squire and not really a recruit for the Royal Guard. Vicenc ushers a stream of visitors in and out of the king's chambers, but I am not one of them.

Finally, we are called to the courtyard, every member of the palace household. We stand shoulder to shoulder, all mixed together: Royal Guard and palace watch, laundresses and stable boys, the queen's ladies and even a few in-residence n.o.bles.

Lucio and Fernando find me in the crowd. It's the first time I've seen them since returning from Puerto Verde.

"Did you hear about the lord-commander?" Lucio whispers.

"No," I say. I haven't heard anything.

"He resigned from the Guard. You heard that Solvano got roaring drunk and fell on his dagger, right? Well, the king has a.s.signed Enrico guardianship of the Fortress of Wind."

Fernando is eager to confirm this. "Rumor is the resignation was forced. He's to leave at once to tend to the restoration of the tower."

"How nice for him," I say. "He must be happy to finally be a lord of his own land."

"It's awful," Lucio says. "Mandrano's been named interim lord-commander. He made us scrub the training yard."

I grin. "But on the positive side, he dumped your wine."

This earns me a staggering cuff on the shoulder, but Lucio is grinning too.

I search for Mandrano and find him standing near the front. Beside him is Miria. They are holding hands.

Of course.

I immediately regret every word I've ever said about him.

He catches me looking at him and glowers. So much for my hope of returning to the Guard. Rosaura's warnings to keep my mouth shut were meant in more ways than I could have ever guessed.

Alejandro and Rosaura appear at the balcony above us. The buzz of conversation in the courtyard falls silent. They wear royal white, and their golden crowns shimmer in the sunshine. Rosaura's face is as pale as death, and I know, because I know her, that it is taking all her strength and focus to be here. Even so, she manages to exude radiant purpose.

Dr. Enzo approaches from behind, carrying a small bundle in his arms.

Alejandro takes the baby from him and holds him up for the crowd.

Alejandro's voice booms, "Her Majesty Queen Rosaura and I announce the birth of our son and heir to the throne. Please welcome your future king, Prince Rosario ne Flurendi de Vega!"

The crowd goes wild. The baby jerks in Alejandro's arms and starts to squall, which sends everyone into an even louder frenzy of cheering.