Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
For a few moments before I open my eyes, as I lay with my cheek pressed into Weston’s chest, I forget everything that has happened.
It feels like we’re back in Dawnlin, waking up in the morning, unaware of what the day has in store for us.
But then I feel the chill in the air against my skin, and a sharp pain in my neck, and everything comes rushing back.
I am the queen.
My father is dead.
I have a kingdom to run, but the healers, who I’m sure will bring me another dose of the pain tonic as soon as I send for it, require me to rest. I let out a deep sigh and open my eyes. The dim, grey light from the windows is still too bright for how exhausted I am.
I startle as my gaze falls on the warm body lying next to me, and stifle a gasp.
“Weston!” I hiss as my fingertips itch to touch his skin.
Black and blue patches cover his entire torso, with red and swollen lumps in places they weren’t before.
Blood soaked bandages cover numerous gashes that clearly bled through the night.
Stitches bring together the deeper wounds on his face, his arms. The skin across his knuckles is torn, and the beginnings of angry scabs match those of the rings around his wrists where he fought against the manacles.
My mouth falls open as I pull away, my hands hovering over him, afraid to touch him anywhere.
He lets out a gruff sound, and the arm snaked around my hips tightens, pulling me against him again.
“Don’t run away. I’m fine.” His voice is thick with sleep, and his eyes remain closed. I can’t help but gawk at the evidence of what he told me last night.
I knew he fought to get to me. I could hear it.
I could hear the guards beating him at Brynne and Guthrie’s command, and his roars as he took on every single one of them.
I believed what he said because I knew he would never just let anyone harm me, not after he was willing to give up his life, to become the Guardian by sliding his sword through Dane’s throat, just to save me.
Now though, no one would question his devotion to his oath, his duty, or his love for me.
I press a firm kiss against his ribs, and gently rest my hand on his abdomen.
This man will sacrifice everything for me. Being back here, in my rooms, in my bed, the place that I’ve spent the most time and felt aching waves of loneliness over the years, makes me realize how much I truly need him. How much I love him.
I am the queen now, and there is no question in my mind that I need to protect him the same way he would protect me. I close my eyes and drift back to sleep, silently making my own oath to him to do just that.
Weston takes the orders from the healers seriously and confines me to my rooms. Unless they are examining me for healing progress, bringing a pain tonic, or delivering meals, no one is allowed inside.
Days pass, and we stay locked away together, allowing each of our bodies the rest it needs.
Weston barely looks phased by his injuries, but doesn’t let me do much besides lay with him and sit up to eat until I can move more freely and speak without wincing.
Every morning, he dresses in his uniform and leaves for hours as the staff questioning continues.
He won’t be satisfied until he feels no traitor has slipped through unnoticed, and has been busy restructuring the guards to ensure the castle is fortified with men who care for the kingdom, but even more so, are loyal to me.
One morning after the sheets were already cold where he slept, I woke to a stack of books and a note that read “This time, tell me what you’re reading.
” I spent the afternoon getting lost in the stories.
He must have snuck down to Tila’s workroom because The Maiden’s Moonlit Venture was sitting on the top of the pile.
My cheeks heated and I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled the last time I read that book, the night he returned from his first shift and the first night I knew there was something more forming between us.
A few days after, Weston and I sit together, on the settee after he returned from his morning with the guards.
His arm rests casually along the back as he reads security reports from across Blackwood.
I’m tucked into his side, reading a new book he brought back from the library in the city and drinking some tea filled with honey that Roxyana says will soothe my palate.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and I turn my neck slowly to watch Weston rise and stride across the room. He unlatches the bolt and opens the door just enough to see, but uses his body to shield anyone from looking inside or getting past him.
“Is the queen open to a visitor?”
The familiar voice makes my chest warm with comfort, and I can’t help the smile that turns up my lips. Weston looks over his shoulder at me for permission, and I chuckle at the thought that he would kick his own father out if I gave the word.
“Of course, Edmond. Come in.”
I pull closed the sides of the warm robe I have over my nightgown.
With no desire to leave, I haven’t dressed as the queen should, and only did enough to keep the chill away.
Weston holds the door open wider and steps to the side, allowing his father to enter before closing it and sliding the lock into place once more.
I set aside the book and smile up at Edmond as he takes a seat across the room in the chair next to the hearth.
It has been difficult to feel happiness in the aftermath of everything.
I’ve been thankful to feel safe and whole spending every day alongside Weston, but seeing Edmond brings me a little joy I know I’ve been missing.
Instead of returning to his seat beside me, Weston stands just behind the settee, his arms locked behind his back and the stoic look of the First Guard on his face. I pull my eyes away from him and look back to Edmond, who’s gaze jumps between us with a soft smile on his face.
“After the events of the past days,” Edmond starts, “I’m glad to see you both looking well. At least better than before.”
With as observational as Edmond is and has taught me to be, it’s unlikely he missed the ring of dark bruises around my neck and the bloodshot color to my eyes from losing so much air.
The healers have assured me both will improve with time, but I can imagine for someone who saw me healthy every day, it might look shocking.
“Much better,” I say. “The healers have been very attentive.”
“As they should, Your Majesty,” Edmond says with a nod. “And you, son?” He looks to Weston behind me. His eyes are hopeful, yet misted over, the same way he looked when he first told me about his son in the library all that time ago.
“I’m fine,” Weston says, then clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, Pop.”
Edmond’s smile grows wider, before he leans back into the cushions of the chair and props his head on his hand in the thoughtful way he always does.
“I’m glad to hear it. Though it has been quite a while now, I do still believe I know you better than you sometimes know yourself.” He looks back to me. “Both of you. Neither of you are fooling me. Do not be formal on my account.”
My mouth parts in surprise, and I don’t move, not until I hear heavy footsteps round the settee. Weston falls back into his seat beside me and crosses his ankle over his knee as his hand comes to rest on the inside of my thigh.
“I assumed as much.” Edmond chuckles lightly, but his gaze stays assessing, bouncing from the lack of space separating our bodies, and the comfortable, albeit too intimate way Weston’s hands are on me. My cheeks heat at the thought of what is going through Edmond’s mind.
“Did you come for a visit, or just to prove yourself right?” I can hear the smile in Weston’s voice, and my stomach tumbles at the ease and familiarity growing in this room.
“You should know, my boy, I do not need to see anything to know I am right. Although, seeing with my own eyes brings me joy, for many reasons. Can’t a father want to behold the son he hasn’t seen for close to twenty-three years? Or visit with his dear queen who has been gone for far too long?”
My chest clenches and I fight back a smile. Even though I welcomed the joy when Edmond walked in the room, it still feels wrong amidst all this sadness and loss. “I think we both know you better than that. What’s on your mind, Edmond?”
“Ah, yes. Well, as you may know, Your Majesty—”
“Lennox, Edmond. You’ve always called me Lennox.”
“I have, however, this occasion will call for the formality, as you will see in a moment.”
The quiet feeling of being disobedient as a child prickles at my skin, but I squash it down. “I’m sorry I interrupted, that was rude of me. You taught me better than that. Please continue.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. With the…recent events, and the passing of your father, Blackwood now falls to you, something of which I am sure you are aware as we have been preparing you for it since childhood.”
“I am aware,” I nod. “Although I was not expecting it so soon.”
“None ever are. But that leads me to the topic of discussion for today. Steps need to be taken, procedures initiated to have a successful transition into your reign. First, the entire kingdom will need to be notified that the king has passed. It is required in order to begin the mourning period before planning the funeral and your coronation.”
My head spins as the reality I’ve hidden from between the pages of my books comes crushing down on me. I blink at him rapidly as I try to process all the things I have been avoiding thinking about, and now, I can’t any longer.
“You will need to select your advisors and make any changes to the staff for how you would like the castle run. The other kingdoms will also need to be notified about the conveyance of power, and no doubt there will be many who want to speak to the new queen.”