Nameless Queen by Rebecca McLaughlin

Author:Rebecca McLaughlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2020-01-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

I join Esther at the palace library, which is much smaller than the public library out in the city. Of course, beyond the leather bindings, metal hinges, and illuminated drawings, books don’t mean much to me. They’re good for propping doors and throwing at people, and paper’s a great insulator. Last winter, I spent many of my nights in Seriden’s library. I would lock myself in a small room and stack books in front of the windows to keep the cold out. Here, the books are more like ornaments, delicately arranged. A small man with gray hair slowly makes his way up and down the aisles. He has a soft white cloth in his gloved hands, and he’s wiping dust from the tops of the books.

“Is there a reason we’re meeting here?” I ask. “As opposed to a place with more paper and fewer books?” I scrutinize the bookshelves suspiciously.

“Books are made of paper,” Esther corrects. “It’s a library. Where else are we going to write a speech? Besides, there are a few books here of speeches from old queens and kings of Seriden. They’ll make good study material. Then we can get to writing yours in a couple of hours.”

I purse my lips.

Esther crosses her arms impatiently. “What’s wrong? Can’t muster enough focus for a couple of hours?”

“Can’t you just tell me about the speeches?” I ask.

“Of course not,” she says. “I can’t simply summarize old speeches for you. That defeats the purpose. The spirit of a speech isn’t in what is said, but how it’s said. With the right words and the right passion, you can move a city to peace or war.”

I shift my weight from one foot to another as if trying to convince my legs not to run.

“What’s the matter with you?” Esther asks. “You’re acting stranger than usual.”

“Remember, I can’t read,” I say. “How am I supposed to study old speeches?”

A sad smile threatens to overtake Esther’s lips, and I hold up a cautionary hand. “I want your advice, not your pity. Neither of us gets to control what we bring to this table. You bring refinement and leadership skills and entitlement. I bring impatience and illiteracy and cleverness. Maybe you don’t want the things I bring, but you have me either way.”

Her sad smile turns kind. “I was planning to read the speeches aloud to you.”

My cheeks flare with heat, and I sit at the table. “That’s what I thought.”

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