Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Adeline stood beside the casket where her grandfather was laid out in his royal finery.
Her skin crawled as she forced herself to stand tall and smile serenely at those filing past her to pay their respects.
With each person, she was all too aware of her own vulnerability.
It would be far too easy for one of them to leap forward with knife in hand.
At her back, the guards she trusted had been joined by others among the royal guard. After all, her loyal guards couldn’t be on duty all the time. They needed sleep and rest.
But who among those guards were loyal to her, or at the very least, loyal enough to the crown that they wouldn’t turn on her? Would they bother to stop an assassin if someone tried to kill her?
On the other side of the coffin, Lord Axtol and Lord Sarlon stood as representatives of the council. Yet even after paying their respects, many of the nobles lingered in the room. All of them assessing her.
How many were already plotting? How many would support her bid to bring about peace and how many would wish to see her dead because of it?
Her fingers trembled, and she clasped her hands in front of her.
If only she didn’t have to stand alone. If only she had someone to remain at her side in moments like this.
But Jelsa was a mere maid and had remained in Adeline’s rooms. Thaddeus, too, was a commoner, a lowly steward.
Her mind flashed to Lord Lorne and that moment when he’d stood beside her before the council when she’d announced that she was married.
The solidness of his arm beneath her hand had been so steady, his presence so reassuring.
For a brief moment, she hadn’t felt alone for the first time since her parents died.
Yet Lord Lorne was currently lying in her bed, out of his head with fever. He hadn’t woken since his collapse the day before.
Besides, he was an enemy. Regardless of their shared wish for peace between their kingdoms, she shouldn’t count him as a true ally. He could turn on her just as easily as everyone else.
At last, the hours of her ceremonial vigil ended. Yet even then, she wasn’t free to retreat.
First, she had to meet with the council, where she was pummeled on all sides by the various lords pushing their agendas.
Even those who were technically loyal to her looked at her with resignation, as if they supported her because they were loyal to the crown, but they didn’t truly think she was strong enough to rule the kingdom.
Finally, she settled behind the desk in the king’s study and stared listlessly at the stacks of paperwork before her. Where should she start?
A knock sounded on the door before Thaddeus stepped inside. He took one look at her before he closed the door softly behind him. “Are you all right, Your Majesty?”
“No.” She hated how tiny her voice was. She peered up at Thaddeus. “I can’t do this. No one believes I can do this.”
“I believe you can.” Thaddeus stepped forward before he knelt on one knee, his arm over his chest in the royal salute. “So do many others. We have seen your courage as you survived your grandfather. You will survive this too.”
Survive. There was so little joy in that word. Survive merely meant get through the day. It didn’t mean happiness. It didn’t mean smiles and laughter and all the things she’d lost when she’d lost her parents.
Perhaps survival was all she could expect out of her life.
“Thank you.” She didn’t feel better, but she forced herself to smile and gather herself anyway. Thaddeus would do his best to support her, as he always did. But there was a gulf between them that he couldn’t cross.
For some reason, that brought Lord Lorne to her mind once again.
“How is Lord Lorne?” Adeline focused on the stacks of paperwork, even as Thaddeus tottered back to his feet.
“Still out with fever.” Thaddeus’s face remained grave, etched with deep grooves. “The physician is concerned. If the fever doesn’t break soon…”
Then she would lose him and the shield from the lords that he provided. She’d lose her link to Lalsacia and the potential of peace with that kingdom.
And she’d lose one ally who might be able to stand with her as a partner.
Straightening her shoulders, she gestured at the paperwork. “Help me gather the most important papers. I’m going to deal with this in my room.”
He drifted on waves of heat, even as ice wracked his bones. At times, he grew aware of voices near him. Cups of water and tea were pressed to his lips, even as the hazy voices urged him to drink.
Sometimes, lines of pain cut across his back and chest. He cried out and thrashed, yet hands pinned him down firmly.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he dragged himself toward true wakefulness. He blinked gummy eyelids, an orange light suffused around him.
When he had gathered his strength, he turned his head, first one way to take in the rest of the room, then the other way to glance at the far side of the bed.
Queen Adeline sat there, her legs under the blankets, her back to the headboard. She had a lap desk spread with papers, and her gaze was currently focused on one of them. Her lips moved as she read, as if she didn’t realize she was murmuring to herself, while her brow was furrowed.
He licked his lips, trying to find enough saliva to get his tongue to work. “Good morning. Or is it good afternoon?”
She started, jumping so high she nearly tipped over the lap desk. She grabbed the inkpot before it toppled. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Lorne tried to lift his hand, but he was too weak to disentangle his arm from the blankets.
“No, no, don’t apologize. I’m glad to see you awake.” She placed the inkpot on the table before she set the whole lap desk on the end of the bed past her feet. “I should fetch the physician.”
This time, he managed to free his hand, and he grabbed hers before she could climb off the bed. “Not yet.”
She halted, her legs off the side of the bed, her other hand gripping the blankets. “Are you sure? You were out for a day and a half. We were all rather concerned.”
He could feel the clammy stickiness of sweat all over him, but the bone-wracking cold was finally gone.
“Just a few more minutes.” He couldn’t explain why he wanted these minutes with her before the physician arrived and started poking and prodding. “Could I have some water?”
“Yes, of course.” She hurried to fetch the glass and pour the water from the pitcher, as she’d done before.
This time when she held the glass to his mouth, he was able to drain the glass, the water filling his stomach and soothing his dry mouth.
As she returned the glass to the table, he struggled to push himself more upright on the pillow. His ribs stabbed pain through his chest, and weakness trembled through his limbs. But the fog in his mind had mostly disappeared.
Turning from the table, Adeline paused, her gaze flicking from him to her hands for a moment, before she returned to sit on the far edge of the bed, nowhere near as comfortably perched as she had been before.
“My men?” He searched her face, her posture, the tight line of her mouth.
“They’ve been taken out of the dungeon and are recovering in a suite of guest rooms down the hall.
” Adeline’s fingers twisted together in her lap.
“The physician has tended them. They have similar injuries to yours, but they seem to be recovering well. None of them show signs of the fever that gripped you.”
“Thank you.” He released a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. His men were no longer in the dungeon. They would be fine. He hadn’t gotten them all killed with his ill-advised bid for peace.
At least, not yet. He opened his eyes and peered at Adeline. He was now partway into another bid for peace, although only time would tell if this one was as ill-advised as his last one.
He held out his hand toward her, although he wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like he expected her to take it. But reaching for her seemed like the right thing to do. “How are you holding up?”
“Not well.” She drew her knees up before hugging them. “It’s all so much, and everyone expects me to fail, including many of those who are loyal to me. And there are so many who aren’t loyal. I’m just…scared.”
He kept his hand out there between them, offering that comfort if she wanted it. “I don’t blame you. No one should be as alone and isolated as you are in your own kingdom. But I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.”
As she had before, she tentatively placed her hand on his, her gaze meeting his.
After another moment, she withdrew her hand and stood. “I should fetch the physician.”
He supposed he couldn’t delay any longer.
Lorne rested in a comfortable chair in the sitting room of the suite connected to Adeline’s.
At least he was up for the first time since he’d collapsed.
With the help from a footman whom Jelsa had recommended as trustworthy, he’d tottered from Adeline’s room to this suite.
Despite the way the soap stung in his wounds, he’d enjoyed his first bath since he’d been taken from the dungeon.
The physician had come again to rebandage him, then the footman had helped him dress in clean clothes that didn’t reek of his own sweat.
After taking a short nap since just that much activity had worn him out, he’d rallied his strength to sit here, waiting just out of sight of the door.
There came a knock on his door before it opened without waiting for him to call out. One of the guards stood to the side while the others motioned for the group of men they escorted to enter the room.
Their stances stiff, their bodies poised for action, five men strode into the room, glancing around warily.
As the first man’s gaze landed on Lorne, he halted so abruptly that the others piled into him. He staggered but kept his feet, even as he gaped.
“What—” One of the others began to speak before he, too, spotted Lorne. He rushed over, dropping to his knees before Lorne. “Your—”