46. Reyla
46
REYLA
I spent the next morning with Lord Briscalar, making sure all the details for tomorrow’s coronation, the dinner, and the masked ball were settled. Erisandra didn’t appear to offer input in the process, but that didn’t bother me one bit. She couldn’t complain if something didn’t go right if she wasn’t part of the planning, now could she?
“I wanted to bring up one last thing, my lady,” Lord Briscalar said as he closed his journal, concluding our meeting. “About your soon-to-be ladies-in-waiting.”
“Could you wait in the hall?” I asked my ladies who’d been puttering around the room. They exchanged heavy looks, but did as I asked.
My hands clasped on my lap; I lifted my brows the lord’s way.
“How can I delicately state this?” He fiddled with the magical pen, making droplets of ink spatter here and there, before his level gaze met mine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He held up his hand before I could speak. “Please. I’m sorry. If you’ll give me a moment to speak further.”
I nodded.
“I think it’s a wonderful thing. I’ll mention that it was remiss on my part not to speak with the king about assigning high ladies to your detail from the start, and I apologize gravely for that. I have no excuse to offer. Yes, I was busy with what happened on the ship and then with the arrangements for tomorrow’s events, but that’s no reason for me to miss something like this. My father would be appalled.”
“I like Moira, Calista, and Faelith.”
“That does not mean you need to grant them high lady status or give them positions in your private court.”
“Is it a mistake?” I held up my hand, stopping him from speaking. “I’m not suggesting I want to back out of this.”
“It would be permitted. Expected, even, I might add.”
“Tell me the good and bad things about doing this for them. I want to make sure I’m looking at this from every direction.”
“And this is why you’ll make an excellent queen. One of the best, if not the best, for many generations. Perhaps the one who can . . .”
“Can what?”
He blinked a moment before his face smoothed. “You’ll make an excellent queen. Did I mention that already?”
“I haven’t even been crowned yet. For all we know, I’ll mess up all the time and insult one person after another. ”
“Part of your appeal, if I may be so bold as to say, is that you’re not of this court, that you’re not truly of any court. A queen who was raised in a mountain fortress, training dragons and battling fearsome creatures, will serve Evergorne much better than a woman who cannot . . . how shall I say this? Who cannot see how rules and situations impact everyone inside her court, not just the high lords and ladies. But taking three lessers and giving them such status . . .”
“Why will it be a good thing?” I asked.
“It will show that in your heart, everyone here is equal. You can’t imagine how heartening that will be to those serving in this court, myself included.”
“You’re a high lord.”
His eyes sparkled. “I assume you would’ve made sure I was if I hadn’t been born into the status.”
I grinned. “You’re right.”
His smile fell. “Sadly, there are many more reasons why you should reconsider.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “It creates chaos and will disrupt those who have known their roles here from the day they were born. This could foster discontent within the court.”
“They’ll get over it. No one is better than anyone else.”
“But some are. You’ll be queen. King Merrick will always hold his lofty role.”
“Until he dies when he turns thirty.”
His face froze, and he stared past my shoulder before he shook himself like Farris might after a bath. “Then there’s the housing situation. ”
“No one has taken the ladies’ suites on this level. They’re waiting for me to select my attendants and move them in.” I’d looked into it already. “There’s no reason it can’t be the three I’ve chosen.”
“You’re right in that respect.” He sighed. “It also creates worry in the court.”
“Worry about the curse?”
He paused again, staring off into the distance before his gaze returned to me. “Many will worry that you’ll take this further, that you’ll make changes that will not only impact their own status in the court but their wealth and property.”
“I can’t see myself doing anything like that.”
He’d ignored my mention of the curse and Merrick potentially dying at age thirty, which was only six weeks away, for fate’s sake.
“Just think long and hard about this,” he said, rising. “If you feel this is what you want to do, then you have my complete support. I, for one, believe this court has needed a fresh start and that you’re the best one to do it.”
“Thank you.” I rose as well. “And thank you for all your help with tomorrow’s events. They’ll go smoothly solely because of you.”
“Thank you , my lady who I will soon be able to rightly call my queen.”
“I wish we could use first names between us.”
“We’ll discuss it in a few days. Until then, I must depart. So many things left to put in place. Can you believe that the head chef actually suggested we serve haunches of roast marscapole? ”
“Never. We’re not killing, let alone roasting those fluffy blue creatures.”
“I agree, which is what I told the chef. He was quite miffed. It’s considered a delicacy.”
“I’ll speak with him if you’d like.”
“I can handle this myself, though I appreciate the offer.”
“This must be a huge burden on all the staff.”
“A welcome one, my lady. Welcome. Never forget that.”
He left, and I sank into my chair, flicking my finger across my plate, thinking, though I didn’t come to any conclusions.
I went to the healer’s to see how Valera was doing and the healer led me to where Valera lay on a narrow bed in a small room with unadorned white walls, and a door off the side I suspected led to a bathing area.
“My queen!” Valera winced as she sat up quickly, her facing losing color.
I hurried to her side. “Lie down. Please.”
“I must stand in your presence.”
“No, no. You never need to do that. I mean it. Lie back. You were injured, and I don’t want you hurting yourself further.”
“I’m fine.” At least she sagged back on her pillows. “I broke a few bones, but they’ve been healed. I’ll feel my same old self in a day or two.”
“I’m glad.” I sank into the chair beside the bed and tucked the blankets back up around her neck.
Color rose into her face, but she allowed me to fuss without saying a word.
“I’ll have the library open again soon,” she said .
“Don’t hurry on my behalf. I haven’t started the books you selected for me yet, though I plan to soon.”
“They’re my favorites.” Her brow scrunched with her frown. “My mother’s, as well, now that I think of it, my queen.”
“Books are a wonderful thing.”
“Yes, they are.” Her hand reached for her throat, and her fingers fumbled a moment before she dropped her hand back to her side.
“I’ll bring back your ring.” It was clear she missed it already. It meant a lot to her, and I didn’t want to hold it or toss it in with my other jewelry to be forgotten.
“Ring?” Her head tilted. “What ring?”
“The one your mother always wore. The one you wore on a chain around your neck. You said she . . .” Rising, I tiptoed over to peek into the hall, finding no one there who might be listening. To be safer, I shut the door, though if someone wanted to listen in magically, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Add creating wards to my long list of needed magical training. I returned to my chair. “You said your mother told you to give me the ring, and you did after you fell yesterday.”
Her frown deepening, she shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my queen. I apologize. I wish I could remember.”
“Did you hit your head when you fell?”
“No, fortunately. I only broke my right leg and arm.”
“There was also a small key on the chain.” I watched her face, her eyes, for subterfuge, but they both remained open.
“I’m sorry. A key?” She blinked a moment. “I do remember a key. My mother kept it in the librarian’s desk.” She held up her fingers a short distance apart. “It was tiny. It went to my mother’s diary, though that was burned with her funeral pyre. I made sure it was there myself.” Her sad gaze met mine. “I felt that was right, that her secrets should be scattered along with her ashes.”
“Did you read her diary?”
A diary, huh? It was a stretch on my part to think the book I’d misplaced was Isodine’s diary, especially after Valera said she made sure it burned with her mother’s remains. But odder things had happened at Evergorne already, and not just her forgetting about the ring that held special meaning to her.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t read her thoughts, my queen.” Her sad gaze met mine. “That would feel like an invasion of her privacy. As for the key, I don’t believe I’ve seen it inside the desk recently, but no matter. With the diary gone, it’s no longer needed.”
Or was it? I felt as if I was slowly assembling a puzzle, and the vital pieces remained missing. Would I find a few of them inside that book?
I visited a bit longer but when she started yawning, I left, promising to return to the library again after the coronation.
After lunch in my room, I dressed in one of my finest gowns. We’d soon leave for the throne room where the ceremony to bestow high lady status on Moira, Calista, and Faelith would take place. Faelith had given Farris a bath and brushed him until his fur crackled. She’d placed the jeweled collar Merrick gave him around his throat.
“My queen,” she said, her gaze directed to the polished marble floor of my sitting area. “I have an announcement.” Her eyes flashed to mine before darting away, and she blushed. “I have accepted Surren’s proposal of marriage.”
“Surren?” Why wasn’t I surprised? “Congratulations!” I gave her a quick hug.
As we left the room, she whispered a short explanation. She and Surren hadn’t been allowed to marry as long as she was considered “lesser,” but now, they could.
One more rule I was going to get rid of as soon as possible.
When we reached the first level, I gripped Farris's leash tighter and veered off our path. “A quick stop first,” I told the others, heading down the long hallway leading to the kitchen.
The delicious smell of roasting meats and baking bread overwhelmed me as we entered, making my belly rumble. Organized chaos reigned, with staff bustling around in a well-choreographed dance. A young woman with flour-streaked cheeks kneaded dough at one station, her arm muscles bulging with each push she made against the large lump of dough. A lanky man stirred something bubbling in an enormous pot on the stove, his face flushed from the steam.
The head chef looked up from the enormous wooden-topped island where he was arranging delicate pastries on a large platter. His eyes widened when he saw me, though he quickly smoothed his expression.
“My queen.” He came around the island to join us, dipping forward in a slight bow. “How may I assist you?”
“I wanted to thank you and your staff for all your hard work,” I said. “I know preparing for tomorrow night’s events is a huge undertaking. ”
A few of the kitchen staff nodded before returning to their tasks while others shot me odd looks.
The chef's chest puffed, and he gave me the start of a real smile.
“We are honored to serve, my queen,” he said with a sweep outward of his arm and a grander dip of his head. “Is there anything you require? As you can see, we're quite busy.” His eyes darted to the door, and from the sharp flash of his eyes, he wanted me to leave as quickly as I'd arrived.
“In addition to my thanks, I wanted to offer you my recipe for horig cakes.”
“With all due respect, my queen, I have my own recipe for horig cakes. I'm sure yours are . . . delicious, but—” Drawing himself up, he stared down his nose at me. “Mine are exquisite . Many of the court have told me they're the best they’ve ever tasted.”
“Ah, then, I understand. My recipe uses a secret ingredient, but if you’re confident in your own recipe . . .” I started to turn.
His breath punched inward. “Secret ingredient, you say?”
“I don’t wish to intrude any further. You’re busy, and I hate keeping you from your duties.”
“No!” He lowered his voice when everyone paused in what they were doing and glanced our way. “No.” His words rushed out of him. “I . . . Naturally, as a chef, I'm always interested in discovering new recipes.”
Especially those with secret ingredients? The excitement in his eyes licked through him, making his hands tremble at his sides .
I curled my finger to bring his head down closer and whispered the ingredient to him.
“Oh my,” he gasped, reeling backward. “Are you sure?”
“Just a pinch.” I used my thumb and forefinger to show him. “Too much will make them bitter, but a tiny bit . . . It makes them taste fantastic. I’m sure everyone in court will agree.”
“I never would’ve considered something like that,” he gushed. “But I can see where this might enhance the natural horig flavor and add a touch of uniqueness to the treats.”
I guided him through each step, and watched his expression shift from skepticism to intrigue because my secret ingredient wasn't the only way I deviated from the usual horig cake recipe. By the time I’d finished, his face was florid, and his eyes twinkled.
“Brilliant.” He clapped his hands, making a few of the staff jump and Farris shift closer to my side. “Absolutely brilliant. My queen, I've never heard of such a thing, but it's truly inspired.”
“I love to cook.” I gazed longingly around the kitchen, knowing the odds of the staff welcoming me in their midst was slim.
“Perhaps, when I make the recipe for the first time, you'd like to be present?” His gaze had softened, and it was nice that he wasn't trying to shove me through the door any longer.
“I'd love to.”
“I'll reach out to your staff.” His gaze swept across my ladies, focusing on Moira.
Blushing, she gave him a sweet nod. “I'm sure we can work this into the queen's schedule after the coronation. ”
“Yes . . . queen .” His beaming smile took me in. “I have much to do to prepare for tomorrow, but I’ll be there, watching proudly when the elder places the crown on your head.”
“You don’t happen to know anything about the curse, do you?” I asked, watching his face go blank.
A blink, and his expression cleared. “I cannot believe.” He named my secret ingredient, though in a soft voice to avoid being overheard. “It’s simply amazing.”
“Amazing,” Moira echoed.
Why couldn’t anyone talk about this? But I didn't want to keep him any longer. Edging toward the door, I lifted my voice for all to hear. “Thank you all again. I hope the curse is soon broken!”
They all froze for a heartbeat before returning to whatever they were doing.
What was going on here?
As I slipped toward the door, I spoke again. “I can't wait to taste all the wonderful dishes you'll prepare in my honor.”
“It's our true pleasure.” The head chef bowed grandly as Calista opened the door for me to leave.
I swept through the opening with my head high and aimed for the throne room.
As we approached the entrance, Surren eased up to walk with me. “Well done, my queen. Very clever on your part.”
“You just want to try my horig cakes.”
His breathing stuttered, but he dipped his head forward. “I actually do.” His gaze sought Faelith’s. “I . . . You don’t know what this means to many of us. Thank you.” His deep, genuine voice echoed in the chamber outside the throne room, drawing the attention of the guards clustered on either side of the enormous doors. His eyes darkened as he bowed again. “This means . . . everything.”
Faelith’s cheeks took on a rosy bloom. “Thank you, my queen.” Her gaze flickered between me and Surren, a shy smile creeping across her lips. Light danced in her eyes, and love flickered there when they met his.
Thoughts of the kingdom and the hierarchy swarmed my mind. How could I neutralize the levels of rank within this court permanently? Giving Moira, Calista, and Faelith high lady status was only the beginning. There must be other ways I could make things equal. Yet I couldn't rush, or I'd create a huge mess I’d have no idea how to fix. Changing things too fast would stir frustration among those of higher status, allies we needed to keep Evergorne’s coffers full and secure.
No good queen isolated herself from any of the ranks. A queen worked with everyone, earning their trust. Setting things right couldn’t happen overnight.
But this was a solid start.
Pausing outside the towering throne room doors, a flutter of nerves tangled in my stomach. My coronation would take place tomorrow. Everything was rushing at me at a furious pace, nearly overwhelming me. However, this task would be fun.
My guards swept the doors to the throne room open, and the murmur inside died down to a harsh whisper.
“High Lady Reyla Weldsbane,” the herald called out from inside, his voice thrusting the room into complete silence.
“Ladies, attend me,” I whispered. With a deep breath and Farris trotting at my side, I strode into the grand chamber, my chin high. Moira, Calista, and Faelith followed, their bright gowns swirling around them.
Rows of fae high lords and ladies rose from their seats on either side of the aisle, their mostly snide gazes locked on my every step. Hisses snaked through the air, each voice a stinging bite. I did everything within my power not to flinch. Their scrutiny dropped like a weight on my shoulders, threatening to knock me to my knees. My confidence wavered.
Was I doing too much, too fast?
With a stiff, though twitching spine, I took one step after another, steadying my breathing. I would not back down now.
Sunlight filtered through high windows on either side of the enormous room, casting patterns on the strip of red carpet and marble floor.
Merrick remained seated on his throne, and I took in the breadth of his shoulders dressed in a dark green tunic with silver adornments, the crown on his head, and the way his eyes lit when they locked on mine. His approval beat back the nervous flutters in my chest. Who could flounder when they saw strength, admiration, and something deeper in this man's eyes? My heart thumped louder, outpacing the rhythm of my footsteps as I approached the dais.
To my right, someone huffed, but I didn’t look their way. No reason to grant disrespect attention.
From what I’d read in the library about monarchies and courtly traditions, protocol dictated that the king should remain seated on his throne to show his authority and status, even when approached by his queen .
With a smile teasing across his face, Merrick rose and extended his hand my way. “Reyla. Welcome.”
A guttural roar echoed in the room, and I spun. A man raced my way, a blade in his hand. His magical golden threads snapped toward me. They snaked around my neck and tightened, holding me in place and choking off my air.
With a growl, he lifted his blade and gouged it down toward my chest.