“Arthur,” Blade said casually, turning once to watch him leave. “I think we scared him off.”
“Probably for the best anyway.” I leaned on the tabletop. “Not sure I want everyone knowing what we’re up to.”
“I thought you trusted Arthur.”
“I do. But I’m starting to see why people around here place more distance on friends than they do enemies.”
“Oh?” He leaned on the table beside me, crossing his ankles. “And why is that?”
“Because friends betray you in your best interests, Blade. And there is nothing more dangerous than a person who is trying to protect you from the truth for your own good.”
The corners of his lips turned down with thought, his head bowing once in a nod of approval. “You sure you need me to teach you anything?”
I laughed. “You sure you need to ask that question?”
He stood from his lean and wandered over to the whiteboard—stuffed neatly into a crevice behind a desk—and lifted it onto its stand. “Right, before we learn anything about the law or the ins and outs of queenly duties, let’s start with where you’re going wrong and why you may have the respect of your people but not of your peers.”
I looked into my lap for a second, digesting that. “Straight to the nitty-gritty, huh?”
“I see no need to waste time on small talk, My Queen.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Let’s get started then.”
“Sit.” He pointed to the chair.
I sat down.
“Now, first of all—” He paced the floor, his hands closed around a whiteboard marker behind his back, that English accent of his more prominent in Teacher Mode, “—most unlikeable thing you do: tantrums.”
“Tantrums?”
“Yes.” He grinned, making an overly dramatic point of stomping his foot.
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that. A queen does not need to stomp her foot to get her own way. You’re on the right track, Ara—” He stuffed the marker in his back pocket, “—standing up for what you believe, making decisions and seeing that people follow them. It’s what you need to do. But you don’t need to stomp your foot to do it.”
“I never even realised I was.”
“I know.” He squatted in front of me and delicately took my hand until I looked at him. “And, this isn’t a pick-on-Ara session, either. I just want to point out a few things that need to change if you’re to earn the respect you actually deserve.”
“Okay.” I drew my hand back. “So, no foot-stomping.”
“Right. And every time I see you do it, I’m going to throw something at you, or maybe pinch you,” he said, probably imagining it.
“Okay. I give you official permission to pinch me if I do.”
“Excellent. Now—” He joined his hands and stood up again. “One of the other annoying things you do—”
I sat forward, listening eagerly.
“I’ve watched you with Arthur, with Mike, even with David, and one thing I can say that’s consistent about you, girl, is you tend to believe whatever whoever you’re talking to at the time says.”
“What’d you mean?”
“There’s a lot of mystery and history surrounding our past and possibly shaping our future as a nation, and you seem to believe too easily what you’re told you need to do—or even to believe.”
“Like what?”
“Take this prophecy for example. What do you actually believe about it?”
“I…” I considered all Arthur’s points, the things Jason taught me in the library the day he translated the scrolls, and all the things Morgaine had told me in the beginning—things I took as fact, that now turned out to be so far from the truth they weren’t even worth remembering. “I’m leaning more toward it being a contract, not a prophecy.”
“And what about the power of your foretold child?”
“The power to free the Damned?”
He nodded once.
“I . . . I think I can free them.” I waved my fingertips in the air.
“And what about Drake coming for your child. What do you believe about that?”
“I believe there’s a reason he wants her dead. Maybe she turns out to be the devil. I don’t know, but we can’t just rule him as the bad guy because he seeks to kill her. I think we should have a heavily guarded sit-down meet, and talk about it all.”
Blade smiled. “And why hasn’t this been done?”
“Because no one else agrees with me.”
“And . . . who has all the power in this monarchy?”
I sat straighter. “The queen.”
“Precisely. So, I reiterate—” He knelt before me, his elbow on his knee. “Why hasn’t it been done?”
“You’re right.” I stood up, forcing him to shift backward quickly. “I need a plan. I need to think about what to ask Drake, and I need to organise to meet with him.”
“But your people,” he gasped dramatically, like a shocked old woman, rising to his feet, “they won’t like it.”
“Well, it’s my decision. I may be young, but I’m not stupid.”
“I think they’ll fight you on this.”
“Then I’ll damn well overrule them,” I said, stomping my foot. “Ouch!” I swiped Blade's hand off my arm, cupping my sore skin. “You pinched me!”
“You stomped your foot. Try again.”
I walked cautiously away from him and stood across the room, looking out the window. “A meeting with Drake, in person, to talk—sift through the lies and webs in this whole prophecy—is what’s best for my people. War leads to death. And secrecy—” I turned around to look at Blade. “It begets secrecy. I need to flush this out.”
“Okay. So, now you believe that for yourself, what will you do?”
“Tell them that’s the plan.”
“Tell whom?”
“My people, my council, my House. And they will go along with it, because anyone who opposes will be asked to step down.”
Blade appeared beside me, the dark shadows shaping his smile. “That’s my girl. And when they oppose you—which they will—what will be your immediate reaction?”
I pictured myself in front of the House, standing at the head of the boardroom table, calm, taking slow breaths, staying silent until they all finished arguing around me. “I’ll whisper,” I said, “to get their attention. I’ll tell them this is the plan. Tell them, including David, that I overrule them.”