29. Chapter 29
Lunette
The coverlet beneath my fingers was the deep green of Larethia’s banners, quilted with gold thread so fine it caught the morning light like a thousand shining stars.
The canopy overhead matched, because of course it did.
And the mattress…gods. I could’ve stayed here all day.
My own was made of rushes and old chicken feathers.
Definitely an upgrade from the stone floor I’d expected to wake up on.
I was either a guest of honor…or a beautifully kept captive. Right now, the distinction mattered less than it should have.
As soon as I sat up to look around, five pounds of fur slammed onto my chest. “Muffin!”
His nose frantically darted around my face.
Yes, I didn’t clean my teeth before passing out for… I looked up at the arched windows. The curtains were pulled back. More than half a day.
With only a little groaning, I propelled my body all the way upright.
Muffin scurried off the bed and ascended a set of perches identical to those I’d installed in the cabin.
I watched as he darted across a tangled network of them affixed across the stone walls.
He disappeared through a freshly cut opening in a pair of massive double doors on the far side of the room.
Oh no. If he got out in this unfamiliar place, he might never find his way back.
I jumped out of bed, just now noticing that my shoes had been removed but I was still wearing yesterday’s clothing.
At least they didn’t strip me.
The room was warm because someone had lit a fire in the hearth.
I walked over to the door on stocking feet and pulled on the bronze door handle, which was as heavy as I’d expected. Whatever I’d expected to find beyond that door…it wasn’t an outdoor sanctuary built for my veska.
I was at least three stories up, standing on a balcony that was so large it felt like it was an elevated stone courtyard clinging to the castle’s inner walls.
For a breathless instant, I forgot to hold on to the door, so it slammed shut behind me.
I winced but quickly forgot all about the loud noise.
The architecture soared around this private plaza in bright buttresses and sharp arches like the ribcage of some enormous, elegant beast. Carved columns held the vast stone platform aloft.
The arched balustrade matched the almost white of the buttresses.
Overtop it, and enclosing the entire balcony, was an impossibly fine mesh of metal that faintly buzzed with magic.
Several shrubs, a mix of tall and short varieties I recognized from home, were arranged in pots across the porch’s surface. Muffin wove his long body around branches and stems, his movements filled with the pure joy of having so much room to run again.
The consideration sat strangely in my chest. Owain had meticulously planned for Muffin’s needs, from the start. I’d stopped expecting this kind of attention because it was the kind people usually reserved for things they actually wanted to keep.
Focusing on what was below me was the only buffer against an overwhelming wave of emotion.
Living my entire life secluded in the mountains, I’d never seen anything like the private garden below.
A perfect square of green lawn lay cradled between the arched galleries.
Dormant trees, bushes, and smaller plants stood sentinel along the bright, crushed-stone trail that snaked through the garden.
Given the time of year, it was far too cold to be outdoors in nothing but my day dress, so I hurried back inside. Muffin would be fine since he had a way back in and couldn’t roam too far.
The moment I stepped through the open door, the one on the far end of the room swung open.
Reina swept in, dark hair tightly wound into a bun, dark red dress trimmed with black thread.
Behind her trailed a score of servants, all dressed in black, each carrying something different.
Trunks, silver trays with toiletries, stacks of towels, and lunch.
My stomach rumbled in pleasure.
Reina carried a small wooden box, inlaid with an intricate pattern of bronze, that she placed upon a dressing table.
“…Good morning,” I said, the confusion clear in my voice.
“One of your guards heard the door and called for me,” Reina said briskly, already directing traffic. “In there. No, not there. Gods, you’d think you all were new! Not my most trusted.”
One of my guards?
Great, so I was a prisoner. Unsure what to do with myself, I stood frozen, watching as men carrying shoulder yokes brimming with buckets of steaming hot water flowed in next.
Only when I looked in the direction they were headed did I notice the screened-off bathing area. The door was promptly shut behind them.
“You were moved into different rooms at the last minute, so I’ve had to have your things brought here.”
My things? Twenty armfuls were my things? And given the perches everywhere, it didn’t look last-minute.
“Wait!” Reina’s voice whipped out to stop the servant carrying the silver tray covered with toiletries. “What is this? This is not what I ordered.”
The scent of the soap she was holding hit me from fifteen feet away. Vanilla. Cream. Not the sharp tang of lye or the delicate aroma of floral-scented oils and cleansers.
The light-haired servant frowned as she dipped into a deep curtsy, tray still held miraculously upright. “We were instructed this was to be provided for my lady.”
Reina’s eyes burned into the girl, but she didn’t balk. Who would outrank Reina enough that she would accept it?
Only one name fit. Arrogant. Presumptuous. Infuriating. Thoughtful. Still the only man who’d ever made me come apart at the seams—and I hadn’t even fully had him in my bed.
Reina emitted a quiet, warning growl and mumbled so low I could barely hear, “Fool wants her to smell like a dessert.”
My stomach flipped. He’d said I smelled like baking spices. Now he wanted me sugared and softened, and set up nicely in a pretty box shaped like a castle.
I hated that my pulse betrayed me at the thought of him. I wanted to growl too.
Reina gestured for me to join her at the small round table a few of the servants were setting up with the trays of food. “Come, share lunch with me while they prepare.”
My feet carried me toward the scent of fresh-baked bread and spiced tea even before I consciously made the decision.
One of the female servants pulled out the chair opposite the one Reina already sat in.
I started to lower myself, but Reina made a sharp noise and held up one finger.
“Allow her to slide the chair under you while you descend. She judges the space, you fall with grace.”
Guess she wasn’t joking about those etiquette lessons.
Reina’s presence was more than a bit severe—terrifying was probably the best word to describe it—so I did as she bade without complaint.
There was worse I would endure to make my captivity easier.
Though I still couldn’t help but wonder why a secret like me needed to know how to comport myself to courtly standards.
The moment the final tray was set down, Reina dismissed the servants with a swift flick of her hand. Staring at me, she lifted one dark eyebrow, and that hand flicked up again. Except this time, it made my ears pop.
“Now we have some privacy,” she said, slicing off a piece of the bread made of far finer flour than the type we had in Selmont.
I looked around. “Privacy?”
“I’m no ward-weaver like yourself, but I can cast and maintain a ward of silence around us.”
“Oh,” I said, rather dumbly. “Neat.”
“A lady does not say ‘neat’—at least not without a qualifier.”
“Extraordinarily neat, then, duchess,” I said with all the prim sincerity I could fake.
“Better.” Reina pointed her index finger at me. “Tend that fire. If you aren’t obstinate, the menfolk will dismiss someone as pretty as you.”
“Sounds like you have personal experience with that,” I ventured. Reina was a beautiful woman.
“Oh, they tried.” She grinned. But then her expression turned abruptly serious. “Eat while I share the good and bad news.”
My stomach clenched at bad news, but this order was one I was happy to comply with.
“First, the good.” Reina took a deep breath and slowly poured me a cup of the delightfully spicy tea with a healthy serving of cream and sugar. “The king woke up this morning and said his first words in several days. His swelling has also abated. You’ve performed a miracle.”
I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile as I heaped a rather large spoonful of honey atop the slab of butter I’d dressed my bread with. “Wonderful.”
Reina nodded, her serious look swiftly contorting into a grimace. “Now, the news that required secrecy, even amongst those I trust… You, my dear, have landed yourself in a massive pile of shit.”
I nearly spat out my tea at the rough statement coming from such a refined woman. Reina, I was rapidly learning, was the kind of person who could say “massive pile of shit” in exactly the same tone one might say “pass the sugar.”
Reina continued. “Our ability to keep you a secret lasted all of one night. We hadn’t expected you to pour so much magic into the king, all at once. It was impossible to disguise that a healer had been there.”
I inhaled sharply. “What does that mean for me?”
“That will have to wait until after I’ve described the manure we all have our toes in.”
The left side of my mouth quirked up. Reina mirrored the expression in a silent acknowledgment that maybe our senses of humor weren’t so different after all.
Her voice became a touch pedantic. “Someone wants Owain dead.”
I choked on my food.
Reina casually offered, “A nod will suffice if you require me to dispatch a shadow to fetch the bite.”
What the…? This is who Owain was raised by?
She was an angry badger with ten-inch claws wearing the finest silk. I cleared the blockage and inhaled deeply, gasping for air as I recovered.