Secret

This is the sequel to Vengeance. I reccomend you read that first, if you haven't yet.



“I don’t like it,” Aldasha said.
　
“They’re just rumors,” I assured her. “They’ll pass.”
　
“They’re not just rumors, they’re the truth. We both know I really did plan all along to kill my husband and take the throne for myself. “
　
“No, the plan was to go ahead with his plans to marry you, but thwart his plan to kill you and start a war.”
　
“But did it work, or did it only shift the battleground? If people start believing that I’m a murderess who stole the throne--”
　
“They’d know you were still better than your predecessor,” I interrupted firmly.
　
“I know, Onisy killed the previous royal family to take the throne. But how am I any better?”
　
“You don’t know anything about it,” I said.
　
“Maybe I should.”
　
“Then go ask someone else. Order them to tell you, if you must. I won’t speak of it.”
　
“And if I order you to tell me?”
　
“Then you’ll have far more trouble on your hands than a few rumors.”
　
Aldasha knew that what I said was true. I’d helped her get the throne; she couldn’t boss me around just because she sat on it. She never tried. “Any suggestions on who I should ask, then?”
　
“Anyone who was around twelve years ago would know the basics, at least.”
　
Aldasha left the room, and I disappeared into the passages in the walls and followed her.
　
The hidden passages are extensive, running through nearly every wall, with peepholes every few feet, so it was no difficulty to follow Aldasha all the way to the stables.
　
“Nyen?” she called, and I smiled at her choice; the hostler always knew everything that was going on, though he was too close-mouthed to be much of a source of information. “Do you have a moment?”
　
“Of course, you majesty.”
　
Aldasha went straight to the point. “What happened when Onisy took the throne?”
　
Nyen looked at her. “You’ve heard about the rumors.”
　
My smile broadened; he really didn’t miss anything. I made a mental note to recruit him as one of my spies.
　
“I was just wondering,” Aldasha said.
　
“Alright. There’s not much to it, really. It was a king and queen who ruled back then. They were young, and had three children, and… I believe eight nieces, nephews, and cousins. There was no lack of heirs, and the king and queen and their children were well liked. Then Onisy appeared--he was in the army. It was quite small back then, and he rose up through the ranks to general. And then one day, he led a few men into the castle--he was trusted, it wasn’t difficult--and killed the king and queen, and their children, and seven of the other possible heirs. He married the one he let live--she was barely more than a child, and he thought he could control her. When he found out he was wrong, he killed her as well. Everyone hated him, but he had the army on his side, and after he crushed the first uprisings, everyone learned to grumble quietly.”
　
“Thank you,” said Aldasha.
　
“We’re well rid of him,” Nyen told her. “You’ve no call to feel guilty. I don’t know whether it’s true that you planned all along to kill him, and I’m asking, but either way the country’s better off.”
　
“Thank you,” Aldasha said again, and left the stables.
　
“So, did I tell her the right amount?” Nyen asked when she was gone, addressing the peephole I’d been watching through. I was duly impressed.
　
I emerged into the stables. “What do you mean? Surely you told her all there is to tell, if only the bare bones of it.”
　
“You know what I mean.”
　
“Have you ever considered becoming a spy?”
　
“I like my job. And you’re changing the subject.”
　
“You wouldn’t have to quit your job, just pass on anything you happen to learn.”
　
“I’ll keep it in mind. And you’re still changing the subject.”
　
“Yes, you told her the right amount.” I hesitated. “I didn’t know anyone else knew.”
　
“A haircut and a change of clothes, and of course the lack of all that ridiculous makeup, is enough to fool kings and nobles and people who only ever saw you from a distance, and of course, you weren’t seen much at all for a long time. But you’re still the same person.”
　
“You’ve never told anyone?” I asked hopefully.
　
“No. I didn’t even tell the queen, as you just saw. But really, don’t you think she has a right to know?”
　
“I don’t know. Telling her would just make things so uncomfortable. It wouldn’t help anything, and shouldn’t change anything.” Something made me add the real truth. “I don’t like to think about it.”
　
“I’m sure ignoring your past is quite effective at making you forget it.” His tone was neutral, but he was being sarcastic. I scowled at him.
　
“But telling everyone my gruesome story would be so much more effective,” I retorted.
　
I left fully intending to keep my secret. But that evening, when I met with Aldasha, the words spilled out of me almost against my will. “I was Onisy’s first wife.”
　
She stared at me. “What? But… he killed her? And you’re… that means you’re the rightful queen.”
　
I shook my head firmly. “No. I was a second cousin of the queen, and never really in line for the throne, nor have I ever wanted to be.”
　
“How… I’d always heard he killed you. You even told me that Onisy killed his first wife.”
　
“He did his best. It didn’t take. He never knew I was alive. No one ever connected the dead young queen to the girl in the passages. I am not that person anyore, and I don’t want to be.”
　
“So you just want everything to continue on as it is?”
　
“Yes. Though I’d appreciate it if you could stop worrying about how you gained the throne. Think of it as aiding me in my rightful vengeance, of you must. Remember, I was the one who dealt the fatal blow.”
　
Aldasha considered for a long time. “Fine.” She paused, then added, “And I’ll keep your secret.”

Vengeance

I skulked in the darkness, listened at keyholes, prowled the secret passages in the walls. I saw and heard everything that went on in that godforsaken place. Every plot, every crime, every intrigue, every secret. What I knew could topple the kingdom and destroy those who clutched it to their cold, iron little hearts.

But I couldn’t do anything with my information. It wasn’t just my status, or lack of it—even the lowliest can wreak great havoc with that kind of knowledge, if they do it right. But I was as mistrusted as I was mistrustful. And if they knew how much I did know now, how dangerous I was, and the extents I would go to destroy them… I wouldn’t survive the night. So I stayed out of the away of those who meant me harm, but only just far enough out of the way as to see without being seen. I lived in the shadows, soaking up secrets, waiting. And when I got the chance, I would be avenged.

And finally, the chance came. Or at least, the opportunity to make a chance. I heard a whisper that a delegation from Agrivaia was to arrive, in a last ditch attempt to avoid war. And I began to plot.

The night they arrived, I stood in the shadows in the back of the hall as our king welcomed their diplomats. I watched their every movement, observed the tension between their leader and our king, picked out who each of the major players must be. The older, well dressed man was the ambassador, of course. The woman next to him had to be the princess, though she hardly looked the part—her dress was formal enough for the occasion, but not fancy, and her face was more sensible than pretty. Still, she was clearly the highest ranked among them, and the deal they hoped to make included her marriage to King Onisy. The two women—girls really—next to her were her ladies in waiting; then came a few minor nobles, and the man my plan hinged on—Taield, the Agrivaian spymaster.

I observed him carefully throughout the evening. Though I was too far to hear words, and he was of course civil to his hosts, he seemed… wary. Duly wary, to my mind, and I smiled inwardly. Perhaps I had a chance. I followed him back to his room, then snuck around into the secret passage, and watched him from there. It wasn’t particularly interesting. He wrote at the desk for a while—a report, and a personal letter, I thought—then went into the connecting bathroom and came back a bit later wearing only a towel. He blew out the lamp and went to bed. I waited long enough to be sure no one joined him, then retreated into the passageways of my own lair.

I made my move the next evening. I dressed in my most seductive outfit and used the normal hallways to get to his room. I knocked on the door, and when he opened it, said in my sultriest voice, “I have a present for you.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not interested.”

“I know; you’re happily married,” I said, pushing past him into his room. Once I was inside and out of earshot of any possibly passersby, I told him, in my normal voice, “It’s not what you’re thinking. At least hear me out.”

“Fine.” Taield shut the door and locked it, and I saw he was holding a dagger in one hand, but as he wasn’t being particularly threatening, I ignored it. I took a seat on his bed, and he turned the chair at his desk to face me and sat there. “How did you know I’m married?” he asked, true curiosity, as well as worry, in his voice. Because that wasn’t common knowledge; it was well known that he kept his private life private—a wise precaution, for someone in his line of work. I would have done the same, if I’d had a family to keep secret.

“I know everything,” I told him. He didn’t laugh at me—a point in his favor.

“Is that what this is about then?”

I pretended not to know what he meant. “Your wife?”

“Your knowledge.”

“Yes.”

He waited for me to say more. I waited for him to say anything. Finally, he did. “Is this a warning, then? Or blackmail?”

I laughed. “No, I told you. I’m here to give you a present.”

“That present being information.”

“Yes.”

“From whom?”

“From me, of course.”

He regarded me carefully.

“Who do you serve?”

“Myself.”

“Then who are you?”

“Me? That hardly matters. I’m nobody, really. Better to ask, what do I have for you?” As I spoke, I leaned back against his wall, subtly reached into the passage behind it, and withdrew a package of papers, which I hid behind my back.

“I’ll bite, what do you have?”

“Information on Onisy’s plans for conquering Agrivaia, what he means to do to Princess Aldasha, the truth about what happened to his first wife, the truth about how he took the throne in the first place, and various other tidbits you may find interesting.” I handed him the packet of papers, notes I’d carefully, dangerously, written out in preparation for this.

“Are you saying he plans to attack Agrivaia, after the treaty is signed?”

“No, no. I’m saying he’s planning for Agrivaia to attack him after the treaty is signed, and crush you in a defensive move. I’m not asking you to take my word on it; surely you have spies who can verify my information?”

He stared at me.

“I’ll give you some time to read through those and look into it. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow night.” I got up and started for the door.

He stopped me. “Wait. What’s in this for you?”

“Does it matter? Perhaps I simply enjoy watching things burn. Metaphorically speaking, of course.” I left.

When I returned the next evening, Taield was not alone. I was about to bolt when I realized the second figure was Princess Aldasha. She was sitting on the bed, where I’d been the previous evening, so I took a seat on the floor.

“As far as I’ve been able to find out, your information’s good,” Taield said.

“I know it is.”

“We mean to act on it,” Aldasha said.

“We…?

“No one else knows,” the spymaster said. “I had pieces of the information verified by my informants, but only the three of us know the whole thing. You’ve been invaluable in providing this information. Do you want to help us make our plans?”

“Yes, if you’ll have me.” I was surprised at the offer, though of course I’d planned to be involved, but I’d thought I’d have had to work from behind the scenes.

“The question is, is there any way to avoid war?”

I shook my head. “If the treaty fails, it means war. If the treaty goes ahead as planned, he kills you and starts a war.”

“What if we reveal his plan?” Taield mused.

“Reveal how? You can’t just say Aldasha won’t marry him because he’s going to kill her; he’d use an insult like that as an excuse to declare war.”

“No…. We’d have to wait and prove it, first,” Aldasha said slowly.

She exchanged a glance with Taield. “You can’t risk it,” he said gravely, and I realized what she was thinking.

“You mean, marry him? Let him try to kill you?” Aldasha nodded. “But that would still cause a war, wouldn’t it?”

“Not if I’m the only one left to wage a war against.”

We sat in silence, considering it.

“You know he won’t kill you himself,” Taield said.

“I think he will, actually,” I argued. They looked at me. “It’s just… more his style. He strangled his first wife. Of course, you still have to be open to the possibility of an assassination. What you should do is….” I outlined my plan.

We argued it over for a few more hours, working out the kinks, and of course, some changes were made to it during the following months.

But half a year later, Princess Aldasha and King Onisy were wed, and Aldasha was crowned queen. I waited in the passage outside their bedchamber. Taield guarded her during the ceremony and on the way back to the room, and just after I saw the newlyweds enter the room, he joined me. We watched in tense silence as they consummated their marriage. We had to, he could have tried to kill her at any moment, but that barely alleviated the awkwardness.

Finally, he grabbed her throat. Aldasha screamed, a gargled, choked, scream, but we hardly needed the warning. I burst into the room, holding a tiny jeweled dagger, stabbed the king, right in the heart, and disappeared back into the passage.

I watched as Aldasha grabbed the dagger, then ran to the door and screamed, “Help! Help!” Guards burst into the room, and Taield went around and followed them. I watched Aldasha tearfully explain how her husband had tried to kill her, and she’d stabbed him in self-defense, and he was d-dead! Angry red marks had appeared on her throat, and her story wasn’t questioned.

So Aldasha took the throne. As far as I saw, everyone was glad; Onisy had not been a good king. She made me her spymaster; Taield was to return to Agrivaia, and his wife.

“So, are you happy with the way things turned out?” he asked me before he left. “You never did say what your motivation was.”

“No,” I agreed. “And I never will. But I couldn’t be happier.”