A Grace of Crowns | ☑ Queenkiller, Kingmaker #1

[02.2] The Fugitive and her Shadow

Isla shifted on her bed. Whatever Sir Edric and Noi had agreed to tell Haana about her future, she should not be the one to divulge it – nor did she want to. She was saved, fortunately, by the creak of the front door, followed by Noi calling them to the sitting room.

The handmaid was laying out their plates when they entered. When she spoke, it was in both her and Haana's more comfortable tongue. 'Marinated beef from the inn. Today we will celebrate, I think, with something a little fancy. But first, you must wake you stomach. This is Surikh tea; herbs from our south-eastern mountains.'

Tea. Noi's answer to everything. Isla noticed she had also added a bit of whiskey.

Haana took a sip. 'You have many things from Surikhand?'

'A shipment to Ayresmoor comes every few turns of the month. That is a port town not far from your father's holding. We try to go there with every new batch.' Noi's chair scraped the floor as she sat. 'I hope the wagon ride was not too uncomfortable?'

'I survived weeks in the belly of a ship. Two days in a wooden box is nothing.'

Isla had passed her own voyage in more luxurious cabins, all thanks to Sir Edric's patronage; though she would have traded her meal and bed for a full turn with her family.

'Even so,' said Noi, 'you should rest these coming days. How do you like the beef?'

'Not as tasteless as all else in this realm.'

Noi chuckled. 'Of all Surikhand's wonders, it's her food I miss the most.'

'And the least?'

'Ah ... well that –'

'For me, it is the mosquitoes. Ants, as well.'

Noi smiled. 'I remember, though it has been so long. They get into everything.'

Haana drained her cup and poured another. 'How long have you been gone?'

'Eleven years. Close to twelve.' It was Isla who answered.

'You would have been a child, then. What made you leave?'

She was more inquisitive than Isla thought. Perhaps speaking in Srikh made her only more so. Or perhaps she quickly softens with drink. Likely both. 'My father made me leave.'

'The fisherman?'

'Even a fisherman could tell the realm was headed for the gutters.'

That got her attention. Haana's eyebrows lifted along with another cup of laced tea. 'Much has since changed. No longer is it the place you would've remembered. Where did you say this tea came from?'

What did she remember? Very little. Isla had been too young to trouble herself with anything beyond the goings-on of her own little town. Everything she learnt about Surikhand had been much later through her father's books, and through talk the traders would bring to Ayresmoor along with their wares.

'Our south-eastern mountains,' answered Noi. 'From the valleys of Mount Mrabu.'

'Tastes odd.'

Noi cleared her throat. 'They are known for more bold, bitter flavours. We, ah ... we hear the Maha Rama has taken another consort?'

'Fishwives' gossip. He's not wed again since Rajini Amarin.'

'For the better. Four wives is more than enough. It is about time Maha Rama Judhistir outlived the cravings of his flesh.'

'Ev'rybody knows that's not the reason for his consorts.' Haana stabbed into a piece of meat, though her progressively slurring words lessened the effect. 'Surikhand is not so depraved as you'd make it.'