24. Reyla
24
REYLA
I woke to knocking, the rhythmic tapping on the hallway door pulling me from a restless sleep. Memories of the night before flooded me, but I pushed the thoughts away. I couldn't change what happened with Lore, but I could control my actions from here on out.
“My lady?” Lord Briscalar's voice filtered through the door, followed by a soft clearing of his throat. “We'll be making port soon. Would you care to eat something before we disembark? I've taken the liberty of bringing a tray.”
Farris, who’d curled up at the foot of my bed during the night, lifted his head. His ears perked up, and he released a throaty yawn before settling back down with a sigh.
Sitting, I stroked his soft fur.
“You can enter. I'll be out in a moment,” I called, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
Rising from the bed, I padded into the bathing area, where I splashed cold water on my face, the chill helping to clear the fog of sleep. I met my gaze in the mirror, my eyes reflecting a mix of determination and regret.
“Let it go. He won't bring it up, that's for sure, and neither will you,” I told myself, adding a pert nod to solidify it.
He'd better not bring it up.
I bathed, the scent of lavender and rosemary filling the air while I washed away what was left of the previous night. Lord Briscalar moved around in the adjoining room, humming a tune under his breath.
“I've laid out a gown for you on the bed, my lady,” he said near the door. “Once you've dressed, please let me know, and I'll assist you with your hair. I'll be in the sitting area, waiting.”
“I won't be long.”
After drying off and slipping into a soft robe, I stepped into the bedroom. The gown he'd chosen for me was a vision of deep emerald green, the color of Merrick's eyes. Fortuitous? I was going to think so. Elegant, yet practical, it had capped sleeves and a daring, low neckline that suggested regal grace without being too sexy.
I slipped the dress over my head, the fabric cascading down my body and pooling at my feet.
“I'm ready,” I announced, my voice echoing through the suite.
The door to the adjoining room opened, and Lord Briscalar bustled in. He fastened the gown at my back and urged me over to the vanity, where he arranged my hair on the top of my head, leaving tendrils to trail across my shoulders.
“These were sent for you to wear.” He pulled a case from his pocket and opened it, revealing a sparkling green necklace and matching earrings.
“Are they real?” I asked with a gasp.
He cocked his fist on his hip, pretending to scowl. “Would our queen wear something fake?”
“Probably not.” Though I had. All the time.
He secured the gorgeous necklace in the back while I put on the earrings. Standing to the side, he admired my image in the mirror.
“Delightful,” he breathed. “Simply delightful.”
“Thank you. For helping me look pretty for my introduction to Evergorne Court and for being a friend.”
“I couldn't do anything less, my lady.”
Of course he could, but I turned and patted his arm.
He beamed and swept his hand toward the sitting room. “Your repast awaits. I took the liberty of selecting things you can eat without worry.”
To avoid me spilling down the front of my gown, no doubt. I didn’t huff about it; the fates knew I’d made a mess of my clothing more than once.
Today, I’d be introduced to Evergorne Court. The thought of what was coming barreled over me, knocking me flat. I picked at the food, my appetite nonexistent. Farris sat beside me, begging for treats, and I couldn't resist. He caught each bit I tossed him and munched with satisfaction. At least the cook's efforts hadn't gone to waste.
Then he started gagging, coughing and spinning around.
“Oh, my.” Lord Briscalar rushed over to us, his hands fretting at his sides. He looked from the nyxin to my plate, his eyes widening. “What did you feed him?”
“This.” I held up the rest of the strip of rusher I hadn't touched yet myself.
Lord Briscalar snatched it from my fingers and sniffed it, his nose scrunching and anger flashing through his eyes. “No more, if you please.” A flick of his finger and the tray disappeared. Another wave Farris's way, and the nyxin immediately stilled, gazing up at me with mournful eyes.
A feeling of foreboding shot through me. “Is he alright?”
“I've taken care of it.”
“Of what?” I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around Farris, who licked my face.
“You don’t need to be concerned.”
“Was . . .” I swallowed hard, and the little bit of food I'd eaten threatened to come back up. “Was something wrong with the rusher?”
“Very wrong.” His solemn gaze met mine. “Fortunately, things like this often take time to act. Good thinking on your part to use a taster.”
A taster . . .? I sucked in a startled breath. “It was poisoned?”
“A nasty spell that will not come your way again.” He peered at my tea cup sitting where I'd left it on the table. “Are you finished?”
More than finished. “How am I going to eat?”
“As everyone does. I'll make sure this is handled at Evergorne. We have better . . . magical control there.”
Someone had tried to poison me?
Nothing could make me take another sip of that tea .
A flick of his finger, and the cup disappeared. “No need to worry any longer, my lady.” He hurried around the suite, gathering my belongings and tucking them into a new, more ornate bag. I watched him, still gasping at the thought of how close I’d come to death and bemused by the transformation of my worn pack into something fit for a queen.
“We can't have you arriving at the castle with the other.” He caught my eye. “This is much more suitable.”
“My pack has been with me forever.”
“Yes, it appears as if that’s so.”
“Don't throw it away.” I wasn't ready to let go of anything inside.
“I would never do such a thing with one of your possessions.”
“Thank you. Again. For everything.”
“Of course, my lady. It's a delight.”
The distance between the life I'd known and the one I was stepping into seemed to grow with each passing second, and it was a cavern about to swallow me whole.
“Once we've reached shore,” he said, securing the top of the new bag, “your things will be delivered to your suite.”
“Will Merrick and I share a bedroom?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. I hadn't dared to ask the king himself, though I'd wondered.
Lord Briscalar looked at me with surprise, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “As with all Evergorne queens, you'll have your own quarters on the same floor. They are quite grand, I assure you. ”
All queens? None chose to stay inside the king’s suite with him?
“Are the suites adjoining?”
“They're separate. You'll appreciate having your own space.”
“What about Lord Lorant?” I was grateful Lord Briscalar was busy with my possessions and not looking at me. “Where is his suite?”
“Oh, he has rooms . . . I believe on the next level.”
Not near mine then. Good.
I followed Lord Briscalar up the narrow staircase to the deck, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. The emerald gown swished around my ankles, the fabric cool against my skin. Farris trotted behind me, his silver fur glistening in the early morning light streaming in through the open portholes on the landing.
As we stepped out onto the deck, the briny tang of the sea air hit my nose.
Someone had tried to kill me, and Lord Briscalar appeared to have brushed it aside as easily as a speck of lint on my dress. How often did someone try to murder a member of the royal family?
“Please stop worrying,” he whispered. “Smile. Wave to whoever looks your way. This is your first chance to shine as the court’s new queen, and you want to make a good impression.”
Yeah, being taken off the ship in a casket might give the wrong impression.
But I did as he asked, lifting my arm whenever someone standing on the pier or on shore glanced this way.
The ship had docked, and the crew hurried about, securing ropes. The windrams were released, their duty complete, and they flung themselves over the side of the ship, creating big splashes, and disappearing into the water.
I peered around, my gaze wandering over the busy port town. Buildings constructed of stone and wood marched along neat streets on the gentle slope leading away from the shore, their steeply pitched roofs gleaming with morning dew. People strode here and there, their voices a distant buzz that mingled with the cries of small lavender birds circling overhead.
A hand on my shoulder startled me, and I turned to find Merrick there. His eyes held excitement, and a smile teased across his mouth. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the nape of my neck, his arms sliding around my waist to pull me against his chest.
A simple gesture, yet it sent a jolt of desire through me. As if trained, my body responded to his touch. I leaned into him, closing my eyes. A twinge of guilt gnawed on the edge of my soul. How could I stand here, savoring his embrace, when last night, I'd ground myself against Lore?
My eyes snapped open.
“My king, if you will. I need a moment of your time.” Lord Briscalar urged Merrick to leave me, walking a short distance away. They spoke in voices too low for me to overhear, though I knew what the lord must be telling my husband.
A growl rumbled through Merrick's chest, and his eyes darkened. He scanned the deck, his gaze sharp, as if he could single out the would-be culprit among the crew. “Bring them all to the castle.” His voice didn't rise above a whisper, yet it carried a weight of command that left no room for argument. “Even the kitchen staff. I'll discover who's behind it.”
Lord Briscalar bowed deeply. “Of course, my king. Or, if it’s alright with you, I'll attend to this personally.”
“Do what you must,” Merrick said.
The lord strode away, issuing orders to a couple of burly sailors who immediately set off toward the ship's galley.
Merrick returned to my side, his hand finding mine and giving it a squeeze. His smile remained in place, but his eyes held a steely edge that reminded me of the ruthless efficiency he’d used to “handle” the sailor. A predator lurked beneath his kingly demeanor.
His gaze traveled the length of me, taking in the elegant lines of the emerald gown, the way the fabric hugged my curves and shimmered in the morning sun.
“You’re stunning,” he said, his voice lifted with pride. His fingers gently brushing the emeralds encircling my neck, and wherever his fingertips randomly touched my skin, it flamed. “Are they from the estate?”
“No, my king,” Lord Briscalar said, rejoining us. “Remember? You left them in my quarters with a note stating you'd like my lady to wear them today. I will say, as always, you have impeccable taste.”
Merrick's expression cleared, and he chuckled. “Ah, yes, I forgot. They're perfect for you, Reyla. As perfect as you.”
As he led me to the side of the deck, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that Merrick hadn't left them for me at all.
Lore had.