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He taps the plate with a knife, making a sound that tells me he’s growing frustrated with me. “You haven’t heard a word I said,” he says.
“Pardon me. It’s been quite a span.”
“What have you done all span?” his mother asks from the place next to him. “Besides lie in bed?” she asks under her breath.
“Mother, please,” Kostya says, even though the reprimand is fake. He doesn’t want to shield me from his mother’s aggression. He welcomes it. It’s a game these two play.
Granted, I have lain in bed for the past few spans, going through intense pain from denying my heat. “I’ve done whatever I wished to do.”
“A queen has duties,” the female bites out. “And you’re not attending them.”
“I attend them. They’re just not attended in the way you like. But you are not the queen, so there is no reason why I should do what you like.”
“The queen does what she wants,” Kostya says, mocking the words I keep repeating to these two.
“That’s correct.” They’re coming down hard on me this evening. I struggle with this unpleasant conversation, but I must not let the vultures know they bother me.
“The queen does what is best for her people,” he says.
“And who knows what is best for her people?” I ask.
“The people.”
“You, I presume.”
“Why, yes, actually. Me.”
I’ve heard enough. I lean in so that eavesdroppers can’t hear me as well as they might wish to. “You are nothing but a power-grabbing asshole, and you wouldn’t know a thing about what people want, because people are out there making ends meet, farming, selling, haggling, thinking how they’ll make coin so they can put food on the table. I know what people do. I was one of them once. So I’m done with you telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. You are dismissed from the court.” I throw my napkin on the plate and stand.
Everyone at the table rises.
“I will retire early.”
“You retire early every night,” someone says.
“That is true, but the festivities go on, and that must be pleasing, isn’t it?”
“We haven’t heard anything about the spring closing ceremony,” a lady near the end of the long table says. “The venues have been kept a secret.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized. Kostya here has the list of venues and the parade schedule.”
She snorts. “That’s the problem, Your Majesty.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
The female stands. She’s tall and thin, with curly blonde hair, a round face, and warm brown eyes. “He’s been keeping us in his pocket since you relinquished the crown.”
“I haven’t relinquished the crown.”
“Might as well have,” the male who spoke before says.
“Do most of you feel that way?” I ask.
Nobody answers, and the silence speaks for itself. “I’m sorry you all feel that way, but I haven’t relinquished the crown. I am… I am…” Alone. “Tomorrow, I would like to meet with you, lady…” I let my words trail off, hoping she’ll supply her name.
“Lady Karaginis.”
The people gasp as Kostya’s mother vaults out of her chair. “How dare you take our last name?”
