The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [121]
“I promise not to harm your person in any way, Highness, and I won’t try to escape during our conversation. After I leave this room, I can’t make any such promise.”
“That seems fair enough to me, inquisitor.”
“Lady, it is still not appropriate.”
“I say what’s appropriate in my own house,” Brinna purred. “And there will be no gossip of it, or I will know where it came from.”
“I serve your father, not you,” Walzamerka said.
“But unless my father gives a very specific command to disobey, you will do my will.”
“Why do you want to be alone with him?”
“Because I believe you can torture Sir Neil for a thousand days and learn nothing. But a candid conversation held in private might yield some…insights.”
The inquisitor’s mouth parted, and a look very like fear passed across her features. “I see, Highness,” she said. “I didn’t understand.”
“Good.”
When she was gone and the chamber door had closed, Brinna smiled.
“Walzamerka thinks I’m going to tear your soul out.”
“Are you?”
She gestured toward a chair. “Sit, Sir Neil.”
He did so, and she stared at him for several moments with those eyes of hers, so deep blue that in any light other than sunlight they appeared almost black.
“Did you also come here to kill me, Sir Neil?”
“I swear by the saints my people swear by that I did not, Princess Brinna.”
Her lip quirked, and she poured two goblets of wine.
“This is not poisoned,” she said. “Would you have some?”
“I would.”
She handed him the goblet. He took it with numb hands.
“You’re Marcomir’s daughter,” he said at last.
“Yes,” she said. She reached up and removed the mask, revealing the strong cheekbones and contours he remembered so well. Only her gaze was different; it looked slightly unfocused.
“I don’t understand,” he said, unable to look away from her dark eyes. “When I met you—”
“Fancy a game of Fiedchese?” she interrupted.
“Fiedchese?”
“Yes.”
She rang a bell, and a moment later a young girl in braids brought a board and pieces. The board had squares of rust and bone. The girl left again through a cleverly placed door Neil was unable to see once it had closed.
“It’s the same board,” he said. “From the ship.”
“Yes, of course.” She placed the pieces in their starting positions. “This set is rather dear to me.” Her eyes shifted up. “King or raiders?”
“Raiders, I suppose,” Neil replied.
Her melancholy little smile broadened, and she made her first move. He saw now it was more than her gaze. There seemed to be something slower about her, dreamier. Not stupid, but calculating and diffident.
“I’ll answer all of your questions, Sir Neil,” she said. “I’ve nothing to hide from you anymore.”
Neil made his own move mechanically, unable to concentrate on the game.
She tsked softly. “You’re better than that,” she said.
“I’m distracted.”
“As am I. I didn’t know I would be so nervous at this meeting. I’ve thought about it often.” She shifted the king a few spaces.
He remembered their kiss months before. It had been soft, inexperienced, tentative, and at the same time frighteningly sincere. It was more real at the moment than anything else in his recollection.
“No,” he said, moving another raider. “It’s not silly.”
“Now you know what tower I was trying to escape from and why I couldn’t tell you at the time.”
“Yes,” Neil replied, watching her capture a double-headed ogre. “And no. Why were you fleeing your own father?”
She studied the board. “It wasn’t just my father I was running from,” she said. “It was everything. Look around you, Sir Neil. This tower has five floors. I live in the top three. Everything I need is provided for me. Attentive servants surround me. I once had friends, but since my escape, many of them are now out of my reach.”
“I’m sorry,” Neil said.