The kings queen, p.8
The King's Queen, page 8
I want to spend more time at the stables and with Torin, but Tanja finds me the minute I crossed into the threshold with a message.
“What happened to her?” I ask, scanning the letter. “It’s not like Ms. Eida to just leave without warning. And resignation? She’s worked here for years.”
“Aw, worried?” Tanja teases. “Maybe you finally drove her away. Congratulations! I don’t know, she was old. Maybe she just wanted to retire.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I hum.
“I thought you’d be happy about this. I mean, the old bat drove you crazy.”
“Yeah, I know, just things are changing so quickly—too quickly.”
My friend goes quiet at this, shoving her hands back into her pockets as we walk. She wears her hair pinned back today, her loose curls bouncing atop her head as she moves. I smile softly to myself. Judging by her effort, I’d say the date went well.
“Don’t be too upset,” she says, catching my stare. “I’ve heard your new tutor is very attractive.”
I quirk an eyebrow as we enter the library. The smell of worn leather and fresh pages greets me as soon as we step foot in the ancient room. Rows and rows of books new and old line the walls, with little desks nestled between them for secluded studying.
“Oh, really?” I ask before I spot the figure in front of us. I hardly recognize him in all his fine garb.
“Really.” Rowan smirks from where he sits perched atop a desk. “Ready for your lesson, Vera?”
Chapter 6
Verosa
Of all the ways I thought Rowan would infiltrate the palace, this was not one of them. In my wildest dreams, I saw him barging in as a knight in training, disrupting practice, or posing as a cook and poisoning my meal out of spite. Maybe I had thought he would sneak through my window in the middle of the night to steal me away for training or kill me off to tidy up loose ends. In the more boring of scenarios, he didn’t come at all.
And yet here he is, dressed in a fine pressed blouse, his tailored coat hanging loosely on a chair as he reads a book, sitting on a table in the royal library. He wears that Cheshire cat grin that feels so familiar already, and makes his way over to where I stand, dumbfounded in the doorway.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I force through gritted teeth, taking his hand so that he may press a kiss atop mine.
Tanja watches giddy from the side, fanning her cheeks every so often in mockery.
“You are dismissed.”
Tanja curtsies and takes her leave. The moment those doors slam shut and I know we are alone, I snatch my hand back and cast my iciest glare his way.
“What in the Laei are you doing here?”
Rowan raises an eyebrow and dusts an invisible speck of dirt of the lapel of his jacket, making his way back to his previous seat. Ignoring my question, he picks his book up again and begins to read before pointing to a certain word on the page and bookmarking it. “If I am not mistaken, you were the one who asked me to train you, did you not?” he says without looking up.
“I didn’t think you’d come as my tutor!”
“I don’t see a problem here.” He sighs heavily, slamming the book shut. “I needed a way into the palace and you needed a teacher. That was our deal. This is the best way to solve both of our needs inconspicuously. Trust me, this is not enjoyable for me. You nobles wear such stuffy clothing. No wonder you all walk like there’s a stick up your ass.”
My face flushes at his brazen words, more so because I know he is right. Huffing, I take my seat across from him, in an actual chair rather than a table. I fiddle with my hands at my sides and cross my ankles, waiting for him to begin.
He just looks at me as if I’ve started bleeding silver.
“Well? What’s your plan?”
“Ah, well, that depends. I have my plan, but I can’t exactly share that with you—”
“Of course not,” I mumble under my breath.
“—but I have to shape it around your desires, or else you’ll probably out me to the palace guard,” he continues with a wry smile. “So it depends on what you need from me. You said training, but I still don’t know what kind.”
I pause to think upon that for a moment. I am classically trained, having started my royal lessons at only three years old. All my teachers have praised my intuition and skill, and yet I still fell into Woden’s trap.
“Physical, mostly. I can’t fight. I’m good at running but don’t know how to handle any weaponry or defend myself in a fight,” I admit sheepishly.
Rowan nods, deep in thought. “We need to work on your reflexes.” He nods carefully before tossing his book at me, which I catch with ease. Before I can open my mouth, however, another one hits me square in the gut. “Your enemy won’t wait for you to recover from the first attack. So that will be our first lesson before we move on to anything else.”
I’m about to bark back a retort when a young maid enters the room, knocking softly and walking even softer as she pads into the library. Her footsteps don’t make a sound as she crosses the room and bows slightly at the waist. Rowan’s eyes rove over her figure, unreadable. She wears the usual palace uniform but has paired it with elbow-length ivory gloves, stark in contrast to her deep-toned skin. Her black curls are pinned tight to her head beneath a bonnet, a few stray hairs poking out before her striking amber eyes. She might be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“You sent for me, my lord?” she says lowly, her voice a melodious alto that reminds me of gospel singing in the church.
“And did you bring what I asked?”
She grits her teeth but smiles pleasantly. “Yes, my lord.” She places a fresh stack of paper and a well of ink in his hands before he dismisses her with a nod. I can hardly blink before she’s gone without a whisper to remember her by.
“Who was that?”
“A maid,” he deadpans, dumping the materials in my lap. “Start copying these facts from that book in your lap.”
I glance down at the text, a weathered biography of past kings and their most notable traditions. It looks just like any other textbook Ms. Eida would make me read if she were still here. “Why?”
“Just shut up and do it,” he snaps, reading again. “Unless you want nothing to show of your studies?”
I open then close my mouth, gaping like a fish as I struggle to think of an insult to return the sharp sting of his words, but I find nothing. So I do as he says. I copy endless dates of anarchies come and gone, queens that those men married, divorced, murdered, or were unfaithful to. A shiver works its way down my spine.
Rowan is quiet, until he speaks up after some time. “Who instituted the Raonkin Purge Party?”
“Duke Rajo Kyzen,” I answer with ease.
“What was his wife’s name?”
“Lindietta Marcella Kyzen.”
“Where is Varium?”
“South of Neva.”
“Who was your first love?”
I open my mouth to respond but hesitate right before I notice the sly smirk on Rowan’s face, then what I had almost said. Rising to my feet, I throw the book at his face, only for him to catch it flawlessly with one hand. That scoundrel.
A furious heat crawls up the back of my neck and creeps into my cheeks. “You—”
“Your reflexes are quick, but they need to be tuned. It isn’t all physical,” he explains, ducking as I throw the quill at him next. “You got comfortable in letting them take over subconsciously. That’s dangerous. Your reflexes might save you, but if you don’t school them, you could offer up the wrong information to the wrong person. Right now, it’s just something embarrassing, but next time, it could be something that endangers you and others. Like the fact that you’re a pureblood?”
I feel my rage subside ever so slightly as cold realization dawns on me. Woden flashes in my mind again, those swirling silk skirts and charming grins that lulled me into false confidence. I sit back down. “How do I do that?”
Rowan rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to his elbows, overdramatically flexing as he checks a pocket watch and looks out at the dying sun. “Prove I can trust you, and I’ll show you how.”
“You said you’d train me!” I protest.
“And this is part of it,” he snaps, his chair scraping against the floor as he rises to lean across the table. “A truth for a truth—that is the game we will play, Vera. I am not going to put people in danger to satiate you without earning something in return. So prove it. Prove I can trust you.”
Alarms blare in my mind, warning sirens that scream, “This man is dangerous! Stay far away!” though some traitorous filth whispers, “He can set you free.” And if I don’t take this chance now, who knows when the next one will arise?
“I don’t like how much I have to gamble with you,” I huff.
He laughs breathlessly, rocking back to stand straight up. “It’s not a gamble if it’s guaranteed to succeed.”
“Is it though?”
“Is anything?”
“Look who is speaking in riddles now.” I gather my books in my hands to stand and face him. He may have backed me into a corner, but I will face him with dignity regardless. “Come back tomorrow night, and you will have your proof.”
“I will look forward to it.” Rowan sketches a bow as he gathers his materials. “Keep studying, my faithful pupil. Also, I know your answer would have been that captain. Don’t think I can’t see the eye sex you two have in the halls.”
I fight the urge to flip an obscene gesture at his back as he walks away. His shoulders shake, as if he knows and is laughing. It does make me wonder, just how dangerous is this fox that I’ve led straight into the coop?
I find Lucius leaving dinner late that night and pull him into an empty room the moment no one is looking. He complies silently, not making a sound until I’ve locked the door behind me.
“I didn’t expect to meet again so soon, let alone be yanked into a secluded room.” He chuckles softly, his voice laced with light mirth. He rocks back to lean against the wall and adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves.
“You want to be friends, right?”
“At the least, yes.” His voice is steady and patient, and I wonder just how long it will stay that way, if at all, after I reveal what I need of him. He eyes me curiously, the air of the room suddenly thicker.
Reaching into the folds of my skirt, I pull out the parchment, placing it in his hands forcefully. He makes to unroll it, but I hold steadfast to his wrist.
“I need you to find this information for me and return it before nightfall tomorrow. You are to tell no one of what you’re searching for or why. If you do, our deal is off, and I will not marry you, regardless of what my father says. Am I understood?”
Lucius goes deathly still, my quickened breathing the only sound filling the airy room. He searches for any signs of hesitancy in my features, and when he finds none, he nods. He inhales sharply, eyeing my request. “You know, most women ask for jewelry or precious stones from their betrothed, but this…” He swallows thickly. “I’m assuming you won’t tell me why you need it, but may I ask why you think they’ll give this to me?”
“You’re the future king.”
“And you the future queen,” he quips sharply.
“I have a habit.” I blush to the tips of my ears now. “A very bad habit of running away. They wouldn’t give me anything that would make it easier for me to do so.”
Lucius stares at me for a moment before his curious gaze melts into light laughter. He clutches the parchment tighter, squinting a bit before placing a hand on my shoulder. “What gave it away? The horse chase in the woods or watching you be escorted by half the guard the other morning?” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if this is what it takes to earn your trust, you will have it by nightfall as you’ve requested.”
I wouldn’t go as far as to say trust, but it could be a good start for the both of us.
He bends slightly at the hip in a mock bow before he slips through the door seemingly unnoticed. I wait a moment myself before leaving as well. Slowly, I pick my way back to my own room, my mind racing.
Rowan warned me before he left to find a way from the palace grounds after nightfall tomorrow night, that our business would take place miles away. My heart stutters at the thought, and I place a hand over my chest. The minute I am capable of fending for myself, I will be rid of him, as well as my expectant fiancé. As well as Blaine.
A pang of guilt wracks my body as I think of leaving him, but he said it himself—if he would not come for me, I will not stay for him.
Moonlight ripples through my sheer curtains and into my room, splaying across my silken pillows. Jewels adorn my dresser, my closet full to the brim with the finest of clothing and warm, sturdy shoes. My attached washroom has marble floors, and the walls are inlaid with gold and mother of pearl. Every luxury money could buy is here, and yet these walls resemble a bird cage more and more each day; the windows seem to grow smaller.
Soon, though, I will get out there and see the world. Soon, these four barred walls will be a distant memory. Soon, I can choose what life I wish to live for myself without my father pulling the strings.
Burrowing deep under my covers, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders for what feels like the first time in my life. Soon.
Chapter 7
Verosa
The sun is already beginning to set, and Lucius is nowhere to be seen. Maids and servants rush about the halls per usual, dusting tapestries and polishing the floors. Each and every one of them bow as they pass, and I pray that as I smile back, they cannot see the sweat beading along my forehead or the anxious fidget of my hands.
When I saw him this morning, he was chatting with a few of the guards, Blaine standing suspiciously in the corner. Of everyone I have to look out for with this plan, it is him. Sure, Blaine had no issue letting me go the first time, back when he thought I could escape. But now, he would be able to see through me. He knows me too well. If Lucius were to accidentally let it slip that I needed this information, then it would be over.
I nearly jump out of my own skin when I feel a firm hand close around my elbow. Lucius whispers low in my ear, “Don’t give them cause for suspicion.”
“Do you have it?” I answer breathlessly before I feel the weight of the paper slipping back into my pocket. If not for the people around us, I would have slapped him for placing it there himself.
“Ask, and you shall receive.”
I nod, about to walk off, when his grip on my elbow tightens, guiding me to face him.
“Don’t do anything foolish.”
I snatch my arm back, eyeing him dangerously. Lucius, much to his credit, doesn’t balk from my icy indignation. Rather, he stands his ground and holds my gaze.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I respond briskly before storming down the hall to the library. Once I’m sure there’s nothing but me and the books here, I pull open the scroll and hiss. I had my doubts, but Lucius actually did it. Copying everything down onto a separate scroll, I tuck them into my bosom and shirk off my skirts, revealing the loose-fitting pants I’ve been wearing beneath all day.
Ducking between guards and hallways, I find my way through the passage to go meet Rowan at our rendezvous point. The church bells chime nine times in the distance, the sound carried by a brisk breeze. Rowan steps out from behind some shrubbery at that moment, perfectly punctual.
“I have to admit,” he drawls with that sardonic grin of his, “I am so very curious as to what you have to offer that could be worth my while.”
My closed fist slams into his chest, eliciting a startled grunt. The parchment crinkles as he takes it from my grasp, and I lower my hand. His eyes scan the page before he lets out a low whistle, tucking the parchment into his satchel.
“And how do I know this information is true?”
“How do you think I got here? I followed the guard rotations as listed, everyone was where that paper said without fail, and I was able to sneak through. The castle has several weak points that allow approximately thirty seconds to slip past the defenses. You have to be quick, but it is doable.” My hands begin to shake at my sides. With this information, anyone quick and stealthy enough could break into the castle, my home, and do whatever they wish. I can spot my own room on that page, as well as Father’s—the only two rooms in the whole palace where there is no opening for someone to slip through. If this information falls into the wrong hands… but then again, who is to say the wrong hands don’t belong to Rowan? I might have just signed my death warrant and handed it to him, as well as everyone else inside.
“You must want out very badly if you’re willing to give me this.” He eyes me warily from the corner of his eye.
“I trust you,” I choke out, noticing now how truly dark it is. No one would see if something were to happen to me right now.
“You shouldn’t.” He takes my hand then and pulls me towards a dark horse. “Not until I give you cause to, anyway. But after tonight, you will have enough over me to even the playing field again.”
“I just handed you my life and countless others’ on a silver platter. I’m not sure there’s much you could offer me that would make us any form of even.” I slide into the saddle behind him, ignoring every point of contact between us. I want to be sick, right here over his fine horse and leather-clad body.
“And I’m about to do the same,” is all he says before he urges the horse into a canter, and soon, a gallop.
With a small cry, I cross two fingers across my chest in a prayer to the gods to ward off evil. Rowan is still seated before me, so clearly the gods are choosing not to listen today.
The wind draws tears from my eyes as I cling to his back, praying for everything to be over. Through bleary peeks over his shoulder, I can see Belam in the distance, and the bright lights to the west. Raucous laughter dances with sophisticated music, the swirls of scarlet silks and the satin slippers soon to be discarded in the corner of a ballroom. And Rowan in the center of it all, the shadows clinging to his body as if they are a second skin. Night bows to him, but the stars reflect in his eyes, saving him from the appearance of a monster. Perhaps an old god instead.
