Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 628
away her rings of office.
Galas must have taken them off to dig last night. She
didn’t do it while she was inside. Her gown had no pockets.
And now, hands washed, a little weak broth in her, she sat still,
as though she were trying to become as small and insignificant
as possible.
Armiger was in a foul mood; in his case, Megan had no
idea of the reasons. She knew it had nothing to do with her,
and that was enough to silence her curiosity.
The queen, though... Galas kept glancing over at Megan,
as though expecting a challenge at any second. Yes, she had
abdicated sometime in the night. Megan thought about this as
she washed the few items of clothing she’d salvaged from the
ruins. Nothing had made Galas waver in her self-assuredness,
these past years. She must have had great reserves of will to
make the changes she had, at the prices she had paid. Yet
today, she was consciously rejecting it all.
A dozen times, Megan started to turn, to confront her as
she expected. A dozen times, she stopped herself. She had no
idea what she might say to the queen. Except, you brought this
on yourself--and that, she was sure, Galas knew better than
anyone.
At last, after hanging the clothes to dry in front of the
fire, Megan sighed heavily and left the house. She could feel
the queen’s eyes on her back, but Galas said nothing.
Armiger was talking to the horses. They seemed to draw
strength from him; well, maybe they literally did. He seemed
to have his own strength back, though Winds knew where he
got it from. Megan herself was bone-weary and sore all over.
She was half-sure she would die of a chill before all this was
over.
Apparently Galas had decided on a low stone granary as