The Crown Has a Favorite Liar

How it begins

Mina Ren was hired to become the queen because, according to the chamberlain, the queen had developed an unfortunate wish to be herself.

A servant had left tea beside the contract, which Mina considered either kindness or a sophisticated attempt to delay objections.

"A temporary arrangement," he said.

Mina examined the portrait. "How temporary?"

"Until Her Majesty recovers her sense of duty."

"That sounds potentially permanent."

The woman standing behind the screen laughed.

The chamberlain closed his eyes. Mina turned. Vera Nasser stepped into the room wearing riding clothes, one sleeve rolled above an ink stain. She looked nothing like the portrait except in the ways that mattered to an illusionist: bone, posture, the small asymmetry of a mouth about to tell the truth.

"Leave us," Vera said.

The chamberlain hesitated until every candle flame leaned toward her. Then he left.

Mina watched the flames return upright.

"Does that happen when you're annoyed?"

"It happens when I'm believed."

Outside the windows, the capital's protective dome shimmered over its roofs. Mina had grown up beneath that pale gold curve. She had never asked what it cost the woman whose face appeared on every coin.

Vera sat opposite her.

"They want you to wave, smile, and appear at the winter blessing."

"And you?"

"I want to know whether someone can be loved by a whole country without being known by anyone in it."

Mina should have asked about payment. Instead she found herself looking at the ink on Vera's sleeve.

"What were you writing?"

The queen looked down, surprised.

"A letter I wasn't supposed to send."

"Did you?"

"Not yet."

Mina leaned back. Beyond the glass, the dome brightened, responding to a cheer from the square below.

She had made a living persuading people to see what wasn't there. For the first time, she wondered whether the more dangerous trick would be helping them notice what was.