began. Even on calm days the surf crashed and beat endlessly around the foot of it, and on this afternoon, with a storm coming in, the wind screaming, the salt spray lashed up even as high as the Kingâs Tower, the tallest, where Marioza stood looking out the window into the west.
The Queen of Castle Ocean loved such storms. Nothing ruled this wind, this cloudy streaming uproar. Another rolling crackle of thunder made her laugh. She laid her plump forearms on the naked rock of the windowsill and thrust her head out to the air, the seaâs wild breath all around her, her hair already soaked.
Cousins of the King, her family had always lived in Castle Ocean. When she married Reymarro, she had only changed rooms. Here, in this place, was who she was. Now her King was gone, and she stood alone against this final enemy, who ruled everywhere but here.
She had never seen the Emperor, and yet she thought of him endlessly, how to resist him, how to defeat him, piece by piece, somehow. She would not submit. She could see no way to win, but that did not matter.
The treaty insisted she marry his brother. He had sent her one, with a wedding party, and she had killed him and sent the party back. This time he had sent soldiers. Also: another brother, another wedding, another ring, the shackle on her thumb, braided gold like rope. So far she had forestalled the ceremony, since a mother in mourning for her youngest daughter could not be expected to marry. She leaned farther into the tumbling air. Her face was soaked with the salt spray, mingled warm and cold. In her blood the connection with the sea ran like a salt and tidal memory.
âI have him now,â Reymarro had said. âHeâs cornered up in the mountains. One last push and heâs gone. You must keep my castle. When I come back I will bring you diamonds.â He never came back. And now she was about to give her sacred charge to an ordinary man, without webs between his toes.
Behind her, the door opened and a page said, âMistress, the noble Imperial Archduke Erdhart will see you now.â
Ordering himself into her own room. Within the massive fortress of her flesh she gathered herself for combat. âSend him in.â
He was already there, the Emperorâs brother. Smooth, pale, his face always smiling. He seemed polished. His clothes were exact and his fine fair hair perfect. His hands were soft as a nunâs, the nails trimmed to pink and white ovals; he held his hands together, stroking each other, below the constant smile of even teeth. She had turned from the window, although she still leaned with one arm on the sill. She brushed back her dripping, salty hair.
âYes, my lord. You wish something?â
âMy dear lady.â He flexed toward her, not bowing, and got her hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed, not her skin, but the gold ring. âYou should not stand so in the storm. Where are your women? Let someone bring her a dry cloak!â The last in a voice aimed at her servants, in the next room.
Marioza said, âI am warm enough, sir. But thank you for your concern.â She pulled against his grip, driving her nails sharp into his skin, and he lifted her fingers again to his lips and bit her knuckle. His eyes gleamed, as if he thought of pouncing on her. With a hard twist of her arm she got her hand free.
Behind her, in the doorway, Jeon said, âMother.â
Erdhart turned swiftly; wisely, he let none of her children behind him. He said, âPrince, we are in conference.â
âNo,â Marioza said. âCome in, boy.â To Erdhart she said, âI am still so glad to see him, sir, after I feared so long he was lost to me.â She put out her hand to her boy, and let a tear fall. âAs his poor sister is forever lost.â
At that Jeon gave her a weighty look. He was tall and slim, as his father had been, his hair red as pomegranates.
Erdhart said, âLady, this grief for your