Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,35
Luca replies. “Fresh fruit will become a distant memory if the problem of the mist is not resolved soon. None of the importers from the mainland have been able to make it through. Or none of them have dared return once they heard what was happening.”
“The naturalists will look after the island when the spring comes.”
“Not even they grow lemons and oranges. We simply do not have the climate.” She sets the tray of tea on the table between the couches and hands Mirabella her cup. “The way you speak. ‘The naturalists will look after the island.’ The island. Not ‘us.’ As if you are not a part of it. What wonders there must be on the mainland to claim you after so little time.”
“Yet I am here. Serving the island. Doing my duty, as you said.” Mirabella sets her cup down without drinking. Neither sit, and Luca manages to make standing look very comfortable, sipping her tea with her eyebrows raised, back straight and shoulders loose as if her old bones have never felt a single ache. “You seem younger here than you did in Rolanth, High Priestess. The air off Bardon Harbor must agree with you.”
Luca smiles.
“Why did you want to see me?” Mirabella asks.
“Because I finally could! Now that you have found your way into the queen’s favor, I need not avoid you any longer. You must have realized that my not coming to see you was not without cause.”
“I am sure you never do anything without cause.”
Luca picks up a plate of biscuits and offers them: meringues topped with custard and a bright spot of jam. Mirabella’s favorite. She takes one off the plate.
“How are you enjoying the capital now, with your newfound freedom? How are you finding your time with your younger sister?”
Mirabella frowns, looking down at the meringue. She is very hungry. And though she would prefer to snub everything Luca offers, Arsinoe would not want her to waste food.
“She is calling me Mirabella Mistbane,” Mirabella says, and Luca chuckles. “She has ordered special armor to be made for us both. Silver breastplates engraved with clouds and lightning for me and skulls and snakes for her. She wants to parade me beside her through the city.” She glances at Luca. “Are her moods always so changeable?”
“Queen Katharine is quick to hate,” Luca replies. “But she will forgive you anything the moment you show her the smallest kindness. You and she share many traits, though they manifest in different ways. You are both softhearted. And you are both lethal.”
“Lethal.” Mirabella looks Luca square in the face. “How is Katharine able to ingest so much poison?”
“Her poison gift is strong.”
“She has no poison gift,” says Mirabella. “Arsinoe is the poisoner.”
“Perhaps there were two.”
“Not according to Willa.” Mirabella’s eyes narrow. “Yet I have seen Katharine swallow poison after poison as if every meal is a Gave Noir. How? What low magic did you and Natalia Arron work on her to turn her into such a . . . talented queen?”
Luca scoffs. “There was no low magic. No tricks. I was not working in secret with the Arrons. Up until the last, I was working in secret for you. Which is why I know you so well.” She lowers her voice. “I know it was not truly my words that swayed you to the crown. What are you doing here, really? What are you up to?”
“Only what you told me to do. I am protecting the island, and trying to solve the puzzle that is my sister.”
“And what will you do when you solve it? Whatever secrets she keeps do not matter. She is crowned.”
“So much loyalty,” Mirabella says bitterly.
“You learn to love the queen you have. You know this. Had you won the throne, you would have found Arrons lining up to become your allies. It is no different.”
Except it feels different. Mirabella would have expected that the Arrons would quickly change their colors. Arrons are changeable and lack conviction. But it was a shock to come to the capital and find that Katharine had won over her two best friends.
“Perhaps I am being silly,” she says, and to her surprise, Luca steps forward and embraces her, patting her lightly on the shoulder.
“It is not silly, Mira. It is natural. As subjects, we must love our queen. But we have always loved you. And we are all glad that you have come home to us.”
Mirabella takes the old woman’s hand. That familiar, wrinkled hand with its practical,