thought frantically. She’s supposed to be at the Arvath! Where are the guards?
“Steady, Niya,” the Fetch murmured. He had found a box to stand on, craning his neck over the crowd, and now he rested a hand on her shoulder. “I mark four Queen’s Guards at the foot of the staircase, and four more spread around the Seat. Calm yourself.”
Niya relaxed, but only slightly. Elyssa was of the Keep, not the city; she didn’t know how rowdy the Circus could become. Her guards, too, would be out of their depth. An odd, disconnected part of Niya’s mind noted that Elyssa was wearing not the blue gown they had selected together two days before for the Holy Father’s party but a plain, unadorned dress of pale green wool.
Her riding dress, Niya thought. She rode down here.
Elyssa had reached the high platform now. For a long moment she stood looking out over them all: a pretty young woman, serious of face, her blonde hair pinned back in a simple coil at the nape of her neck. And now an extraordinary thing happened: the roar of the crowd quieted. No one said a word; no one hushed the others or called for silence. The multitude of voices around Niya simply lessened, dying away until there was nothing, a silence so complete that Niya could hear everything: the warm whine of the night wind blowing through the nooks and crannies of the surrounding rooftops, a woman coughing on the far side of the Circus, even the deep breath that Elyssa took, just before she started to speak.
“I am Elyssa Raleigh! I have come here to speak, and I ask you to listen!”
The crowd did not respond, only remained silent, staring up at the slight figure atop the platform. Elyssa’s face was pale, her jaw set, and Niya, who knew the Princess from long observation, saw that she was frightened. But her voice came out without so much as a tremor.
“My mother has commanded me to speak tonight!” Elyssa cried. “She demands that I publicly denounce the Blue Horizon and make my peace with God’s Church!”
Of course, Niya thought sourly. I should have known.
“But I will not do these things!” Elyssa shouted hoarsely. “I do not share my mother’s beliefs, nor her allegiances! God’s Church is a blight on this land, and the Blue Horizon seeks a better world!”
“Great God,” Niya whispered. Elyssa paused now, taking a heavy breath, almost a sob, and in the sudden silence Niya heard the Fetch murmur, “Great God indeed. Her mother will murder her for this.”
“And what of the drought?” a man shouted. “Can William Tear’s ghost give us food?”
Niya frowned, though she had been thinking the same thing only minutes before. For a moment, she thought that Elyssa would give up and retreat, but Elyssa took a deep breath and spoke firmly, her hands gripping the wooden railings that encircled the Seat.
“William Tear can no longer help us, sir. And neither can I, for I am not Queen yet. My mother should open the Crown hoards, commandeer the nobility’s storehouses. She should offer food to all, but she will not.”
“Fuck the Queen!” a woman shouted, and the crowd roared agreement. Niya felt the moment trembling on the edge of violence, her own pulse pounding toward panic. The crowd was vast, and Elyssa looked so helpless, all alone up there. She was Arla’s daughter, and a mob might not make distinctions. Elyssa must have sensed the mood as well, for her face fell paler still, but when she spoke, her voice was strong with anger, an anger that even Niya could feel, twenty feet below.
“I do not sit the throne! I may never sit the throne! But if I do, I swear here and now that my rule will be guided by the principles of the Blue Horizon! I will govern fairly! I will gut the tenancy system and redistribute the land! I will close down the Creche and end the traffic! I will eradicate the spiritual tyranny of the Arvath! I will work toward a kingdom in which everyone is fed, clothed, housed, educated, doctored! I will protect the low as well as the great! This is my promise to you!”
“True Queen! True Queen!”
The crowd erupted, so loudly that Niya almost clapped her hands to her ears. She winced, for hands were upon her, slapping her on the back and pummeling her arms, a communal sort of violence, the people around her gone wild. She fought to stay