Page 65 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘How long do you think I have?’
Marosa asked the question in a detached manner, as if it were of no more import than the weather.
‘The Royal Physician is working around the clock to keep your father alive. The longer he endures, the longer you are safe,’ Lord Gastaldo said. ‘His deterioration appears inevitable, but so far, it is mercifully slow. He can still walk. So long as he does not refuse food or water, he should not die.’
‘How much of his mind remains?’
‘It is difficult to say. When his eyes are unlit, I think that he is both himself and Fýredel – as if the wyrm is asleep, but their memories blur. He dreams of things he has not seen.’ He rubbed between his dark eyebrows. ‘Stay away from him, Donmata. Let us hope that Fýredel will forget you are there.’
Marosa thought of asking him if he had known about Queen Rosarian. If he was the one who had taught the cypher to King Sigoso.
In the end, she decided that she would prefer not to know.
‘I must go,’ Lord Gastaldo said. ‘Your father has called a meeting of the Privy Council.’
‘Are you trying to stop this, Lord Gastaldo?’ Marosa asked him. ‘Are you trying to free our people?’
‘I am. But in my opinion, there is … not a great deal to be done, Your Radiance. Not without condemning all of Cárscaro.’
‘Then I suppose we have nothing further to discuss. Goodnight, my lord.’
‘Goodnight, Your Radiance.’
****
In the relative safety of her apartments, Priessa helped remove her reeking layers, which the laundress meant to burn. For once, Marosa wanted the bath as hot as she could bear it. Once she was in, Priessa scrubbed her scalp and used the last of the rosewater to banish the smell of wyrm.
‘Did you know of this?’ Marosa asked her. ‘Did you know that your father was shielding me?’
‘I guessed.’ She wore a mask of indifference, but Marosa could see the conflict behind it. ‘I cannot stop wondering if he knew about Queen Rosarian. My father is not perfect – he can be unfeeling and vainglorious; perhaps he is even cruel – but I believe that he is loyal to your dynasty. So is my mother. All of us would give our lives without question.’
‘As I would give mine for you.’
Priessa poured clean water, rinsing the suds away. ‘Was Fýredel as ghastly as they say?’
Marosa looked down at her left hand.
‘Like nothing you can imagine,’ she murmured. ‘He is so much larger than the wyverns, but I think that is why he has not yet emerged. It will take him longer to regain enough strength to fly.’
‘But he does have his flame?’
‘Yes.’
Hot enough to make her sweat, even before he breathed.
‘We should try to slay him while he is grounded, to spare the world another Grief.’ Priessa reached for a cloth andsoap. ‘As soon as he takes to the sky, all of humankind is doomed.’
‘None of our weapons could get near, except when he is slumbering. Even then, scores of his creatures stand guard. It would be death to attempt it. Perhaps if we could pack his lair with gunpowder, but even then … I doubt it would kill him.’ Marosa closed her eyes as Priessa washed the grime from her face. ‘Do you know if there are any new prisoners in the dungeons?’
‘Only the Duchess of Ortégardes and Sir Robrecht Teldan, to my knowledge.’
They had both confessed to imagining the death of the king. Even in his changed state, her father did not forgive acts of treason. There had been other prisoners, but they had already been killed.
‘Fýredel has told me there is someone else down there,’ Marosa said. ‘She is to be hung upon the Gate of Niunda by dawn.’ Her temples were pounding. ‘Do you know how long the Privy Council will be in session?’
‘An hour or two, I should think. His Majesty wishes to share more of his plans for this Draconic kingdom.’
‘Then I must go now, to visit this prisoner.’ Marosa rose. ‘Do not wait for me, Priessa.’
