Three Dark Crowns (Three Dark Crowns #1) - Kendare Blake Page 0,1
poisons and poisoners. If a house could smile, Greavesdrake would be grinning.
“She has to be ready,” Genevieve says. “Every corner of the island will hear about what happens tonight.”
Natalia cocks her head at her sister. The gesture manages to convey at once how sympathetic Natalia is to Genevieve’s worries and how tired she is of hearing about them.
Natalia turns to look out the window, down the hills to the capital city of Indrid Down. The twin black spires of the Volroy, the palace where the queen resides during her reign, and where the Black Council resides permanently, rises above the chimney smoke.
“Genevieve. You are too nervous.”
“Too nervous?” Genevieve asks. “We are entering the Ascension Year with a weak queen. If we lose . . . I will not go back to Prynn!”
Her sister’s voice is so shrill that Natalia chuckles. Prynn. It was once the poisoners’ city but now only the weakest reside there. The entire capital of Indrid Down is theirs now. It has been for over a hundred years.
“Genevieve, you have never even been to Prynn.”
“Do not laugh at me.”
“Then do not be funny. I do not know what you are about sometimes.”
She looks again out the window, toward the Volroy’s black spires. Five Arrons sit on the Black Council. No less than five have sat on it for three generations, placed there by the ruling poisoner queen.
“I am only telling you what you may have missed, being so often away from council business, coaching and coddling our queen.”
“I do not miss anything,” says Natalia, and Genevieve lowers her eyes.
“Of course. I am sorry, Sister. It is only that the council grows wary, with the temple openly backing the elemental.”
“The temple is for festival days and for praying over sick children.” Natalia turns and taps Katharine beneath the chin. “For everything else, the people look to the council.
“Why do you not go out to the stables and ride, Genevieve?” she suggests. “It will settle your nerves. Or return to the Volroy. Some business there is sure to require attention.”
Genevieve closes her mouth. For a moment, it seems that she might disobey or reach up toward the block and slap Katharine across the face, just to relieve her tension.
“That is a good idea,” Genevieve says. “I will see you tonight, then, Sister.”
After Genevieve has gone, Natalia nods to Katharine. “You may get down.”
The skinny girl’s knees shake as she climbs off the block, careful not to stumble.
“Go to your rooms,” Natalia says, and turns away to study a sheaf of papers on a table. “I will send Giselle with a bowl of porridge. Then nothing else besides a few sips of water.”
Katharine bows her head and drops half a curtsy for Natalia to catch from the corner of her eye. But she lingers.
“Is it . . . ?” Katharine asks. “Is it really as bad as Genevieve says?”
Natalia regards her a moment, as though deciding whether she will bother to answer.
“Genevieve worries,” she says finally. “She has been that way since we were children. No, Kat. It is not so bad as all that.” She reaches out to tuck some strands of hair behind the girl’s ear. Natalia often does that when she is pleased. “Poisoner queens have sat the throne since long before I was born. They will sit it long after you and I are both dead.” She rests her hands on Katharine’s shoulders. Tall, coldly beautiful Natalia. The words from her mouth leave no room for arguments, no space for doubt. If Katharine were more like her, the Arrons would have nothing to fear.
“Tonight is a party,” says Natalia. “For you, on your birthday. Enjoy it, Queen Katharine. And let me worry about the rest.”
Seated before her dressing mirror, Queen Katharine studies her reflection as Giselle brushes out her black hair in long, even strokes. Katharine is still in her robe and underclothes and is still cold. Greavesdrake is a drafty place that clings to its shadows. Sometimes, it seems that she has spent most of her life in the dark and chilled to the bone.
On the right side of her tableau is a glass-sided cage. In it, her coral snake rests, fat with crickets. Katharine has had her since she was a hatchling, and she is the only venomed creature Katharine does not fear. She knows the vibrations of Katharine’s voice and the scent of her skin. She has never bitten her, even once.
Katharine will wear her to the party tonight, coiled around her wrist