Read Online The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Megan Whalen Turner
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wondered who put the king’s seal ring back on and if the attendants wondered how he got it off. Helooked at his own left hand, where he wore a small copper ring with a seal on it of Miras, the soldier’s patron god of light and arrows. As a trainee, Costis had joined the Miras cult with his friends. They each wore the copper ring, though it turned their fingers green.
Tentatively he pushed at the ring with his thumb, trying to remove it without using his right hand. He hooked it on the edge of the tabletop to no effect. Finally he put his finger in his mouth and worked it off with his teeth. He spat the ring into his palm and dropped it onto the table, where it sat reflecting the candlelight. Costis shuddered as if someone had walked over his grave. He put the ring back on his finger and went to bed, trying to think of other things.
C HAPTER F IVE
I N a small audience room, Relius delivered his report to the queen. In the past, they had been alone for these meetings. Now, the new king attended as well. While Relius talked, Eugenides sat with one booted ankle over his knee and watched a gold coin flip across the backs of his fingers.
It was a distraction, but the queen did not take her attention off Relius. He was being as elliptical as possible, trying to inform her, without alerting the king, of the intrigues within her court. Eugenides’s failure to exercise his authority meant that others were maneuvering to exercise it for him. Several different parties hoped to woo the king to their side, to make him speak for their interests.
Briefly, the queen looked at Eugenides and back at the Secretary of the Archives. It had not escaped her notice that both these men, exquisitely tailored, had chosen clothes for this occasion that complementedher own. This was not as prescient as it seemed. Her wardrobe was fairly uniform, in spite of her new husband’s suggestions that she expand it. It amused her that their sartorial choices clashed so completely with each other. Eugenides’s loosely cut coat in the Mede style, more like a robe, was red silk shading to orange. Relius dressed in the Continental style, his tunic, a deep wine color, tailored close to his body and matching the short velvet cloak he affected even in summer.
His clothes were an expression of his power. He alone of the queen’s advisors had been with her the length of her reign. He had been the illegitimate son of a steward in a baron’s villa, and she had seen, the first time they met, that he could teach her what she needed most, the manipulation of men and power. He had been her teacher, and she had rewarded him with wealth and influence.
Eugenides had grown bored with moving the coin across his fingers. He began tossing it into the air and catching it. He was distracting Relius, an accident, or more likely a calculated effort to unsettle the secretary. As the coin rose higher and higher into the air, Attolia drew her foot back slightly and kicked the king in the ankle. He jumped and turned to her in outrage. The coin dropped behind him, and he plucked it out of the air without looking.
He glanced at Relius and back at her. He’d missednothing, she was certain. Eugenides held out the coin; it was a gold stater with her head on one side and the lilies of Attolia on the other.
“Lilies, I rule, heads, you do,” he said, and threw the coin into the air.
“Lilies, you rule, heads, you throw again,” said Attolia.
The coin dropped. Eugenides looked at it and then showed it to her. “No need,” he said. The coin sat in his palm, obverse, showing the lilies of Attolia. He flipped it again and again and again. Each time it landed showing the lilies. He threw the coin and this time caught it in his closed fist. Without looking at it, he slapped it onto the embroidered sleeve of his coat and took his hand away. It was lilies again.
“I think we are finished here,” Attolia said. “Was there anything more, Relius?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
With
Tentatively he pushed at the ring with his thumb, trying to remove it without using his right hand. He hooked it on the edge of the tabletop to no effect. Finally he put his finger in his mouth and worked it off with his teeth. He spat the ring into his palm and dropped it onto the table, where it sat reflecting the candlelight. Costis shuddered as if someone had walked over his grave. He put the ring back on his finger and went to bed, trying to think of other things.
C HAPTER F IVE
I N a small audience room, Relius delivered his report to the queen. In the past, they had been alone for these meetings. Now, the new king attended as well. While Relius talked, Eugenides sat with one booted ankle over his knee and watched a gold coin flip across the backs of his fingers.
It was a distraction, but the queen did not take her attention off Relius. He was being as elliptical as possible, trying to inform her, without alerting the king, of the intrigues within her court. Eugenides’s failure to exercise his authority meant that others were maneuvering to exercise it for him. Several different parties hoped to woo the king to their side, to make him speak for their interests.
Briefly, the queen looked at Eugenides and back at the Secretary of the Archives. It had not escaped her notice that both these men, exquisitely tailored, had chosen clothes for this occasion that complementedher own. This was not as prescient as it seemed. Her wardrobe was fairly uniform, in spite of her new husband’s suggestions that she expand it. It amused her that their sartorial choices clashed so completely with each other. Eugenides’s loosely cut coat in the Mede style, more like a robe, was red silk shading to orange. Relius dressed in the Continental style, his tunic, a deep wine color, tailored close to his body and matching the short velvet cloak he affected even in summer.
His clothes were an expression of his power. He alone of the queen’s advisors had been with her the length of her reign. He had been the illegitimate son of a steward in a baron’s villa, and she had seen, the first time they met, that he could teach her what she needed most, the manipulation of men and power. He had been her teacher, and she had rewarded him with wealth and influence.
Eugenides had grown bored with moving the coin across his fingers. He began tossing it into the air and catching it. He was distracting Relius, an accident, or more likely a calculated effort to unsettle the secretary. As the coin rose higher and higher into the air, Attolia drew her foot back slightly and kicked the king in the ankle. He jumped and turned to her in outrage. The coin dropped behind him, and he plucked it out of the air without looking.
He glanced at Relius and back at her. He’d missednothing, she was certain. Eugenides held out the coin; it was a gold stater with her head on one side and the lilies of Attolia on the other.
“Lilies, I rule, heads, you do,” he said, and threw the coin into the air.
“Lilies, you rule, heads, you throw again,” said Attolia.
The coin dropped. Eugenides looked at it and then showed it to her. “No need,” he said. The coin sat in his palm, obverse, showing the lilies of Attolia. He flipped it again and again and again. Each time it landed showing the lilies. He threw the coin and this time caught it in his closed fist. Without looking at it, he slapped it onto the embroidered sleeve of his coat and took his hand away. It was lilies again.
“I think we are finished here,” Attolia said. “Was there anything more, Relius?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
With
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