CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #3
It was truly a mark of the Hermit’s skill that he was actually ordering the king and queen around when he was allegedly nothing more than an ambassador. But I was grateful. The focus had moved away from me and so had any lingering suspicions.
I quickly took the King’s arm, trying to breathe as normally as possible. To let the Azete settle back down. And to forget what they’d said, forget that they’d noted that I seemed different. They assumed it was an attraction growing between Olivay and Brennan. The early stirrings of lust and love.
They weren’t wrong. Something just like that was happening between us, faster and more intensely than I’d ever meant for it to. But they had no idea just how different I was from their daughter. How different the look of lust and love would have appeared if Olivay hadn’t been taken.
We entered a new hall, and then suddenly, the Queen’s knees gave out. She stumbled forward with a surprised cry.
I froze, fear wrapping around my heart. And guilt. So much guilt. I kept doing this to her. I kept hurting her. And she didn’t deserve any of it.
Something I’d buried deep inside me rose to the surface.
Memories of my mother staying away from me, pretending she had a meeting that went too long, or spending the night in another witch’s home so she might see the true needs of her people.
It had been to get away from me. Because she couldn’t hold herself back around me, she couldn’t stop loving me, or hugging me, and refused to stop holding me even when she knew better.
Sometimes I just made her so weak that she had no choice but to leave me.
When I figured it out, I tried to limit our touches, to keep our interactions neutral, to not drain her.
She never complained, not once. But the truth was I’d been killing her for a long, long time before the chimera ever appeared.
Lord Brandon was already holding onto Queen Noemay’s arm. He had caught her with ease, thank the Gods. Quickly, he helped her to stand upright. She hadn’t fallen, not like last time. But this was bad. How many times could she stumble after touching me before everyone noticed?
King Dairen stepped forward, dragging me with him. “Perhaps my queen,” he said jovially, “is the one with hearts in her eyes.”
Queen Noemay turned to face us, still looking shaken, her face pale, almost as light as mine had been this morning.
Her eyes fell on me, and for one moment, her face changed, like she knew, like she’d finally seen what any mother would have, I was not her daughter.
But she was too tired and too weak to truly entertain the thought.
I could see the moment she shook it off.
One hand had rushed to her heart, and she laughed at her husband’s comments.
“When you are concerned, my love, there are always hearts in my eyes.”
But as she turned back, it was obvious she was leaning on Lord Brandon far more than was natural. His arm wrapped tightly around her, and as we continued to the end of the hall, it became clear he was setting an unusually slow and careful pace.
“Nice and slow,” he said, his voice taking on its pompous noble tone. “For I like to think we are all a little in love this morning, and perhaps, though some of us are not royal, patience is a quality that shall improve us.”
My heart sank as I watched Queen Noemay’s every labored step. I couldn’t relax. The slow pace was agonizing, because it just prolonged the length of time for her to reach a chair and sit. She needed to rest, and she needed to recover, and I had to find a way to stay as far away from her as I could.
“She’s never been this clumsy before,” King Dairen said, his voice low.
“I don’t think Eskalon’s weather agrees with my mother,” I said.
He frowned. “Perhaps. She is also anxious at being away from you. This is new for her, too.”
I had the sense that she’d never spent a night apart from her daughter. When I was a young princess, I never spent a night apart from my mother either. It only began when she realized what I was doing to her, when she realized she had to protect herself.
“However,” he continued, “seeing you with the prince truly has brought her great comfort. And me. We always knew you’d do your duty. You always have, bravely and properly, befitting one of your status. But it is nice to know that when we leave, we do so as love blossoms for you.”
My chest felt tight at his words. That chance had been extinguished before it could ever catch a flame.
He will die.
When we wed, when we were forced to consummate the marriage by witness at the bedding ceremony, an event I was absolutely dreading, the prophecy would come to pass. The Azete would suck Brennan dry, killing him as the child he left in me grew.
I would kill him, the first person who may have truly loved me—if he’d had the chance.
I met the King’s eyes. I couldn’t save my mother. But I could save Olivay’s.
“For her sake,” I said, “go home as soon as you can. As soon as the wedding ceremony ends. She needs to return to the coast, to the fresh air. Being back in Spartva will be good for her.” So will being far away from me.
“I think it is wise,” he said. “Once the arrangements are made.”