Chapter 16 #2
“Perfect. From freezing to suffocating,” Florence said with narrowed eyes, pausing at the creak of the castle’s gates.
We turned to watch the new arrival come riding in, a small entourage shortly behind.
At first, my brow climbed at the sight of a lord I had yet to meet; the stranger rode nearer in a fine wool tailcoat, navy blue and traced with gold braiding.
The broad shoulders and slender waist were an unusual stylistic choice, and the short red cape fastened by a brooch with the Callan insignia told me that this was a relative of the royal family. At my side, Winnie bowed.
Only when the rider was very close did I register that this was not a man, but a woman in modified men’s clothes.
The severe military cut of the coat, combined with the cap that shadowed her features, had completely disguised her feminine form.
Without her makeup and elaborate court dress, she was completely unrecognizable, save for the stolid, unreadable expression that could only belong to Queen Adelaide.
She looked down her nose from atop her bay mare, a compact and muscular creature with a dark, braided mane pulled back from its neck.
The two of them were quite the sight, enough to stun the manners from me.
Queen Adelaide climbed down from the warmblood, patting her on the side.
The mare responded with a shuffle, but once a new handler took hold of the reins, she behaved herself, moving on down the path to the stables.
The queen watched her go, then turned to acknowledge her audience.
I remembered myself and bowed, keeping my head low. The queen walked like she might pass us by, but then she stopped.
“I find a certain comfort in the quiet of a hunt,” she said suddenly, and I realized that I was being addressed. I raised my head, lips parting in surprise. “In time, you’ll find your own escapes.”
Too startled to reply, I couldn’t find my words before the queen’s own lady-in-waiting ushered her away. I watched her go, then stomped my foot in frustration.
“The queen must think I’m such a damned fool!” I groaned. “She despises me as it is!”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Winnie disagreed, hooking her arm in mine. “Think of the implications of what she said. I believe she’s come to accept you as more of a permanent fixture around here, and not merely her son’s fleeting fancy.”
“Do you think so?” I asked. “Truly?”
“If she despised you, she wouldn’t have stopped to speak.”
Florence walked at my other side, a quiet accessory as we entered the palace. She looked around, memorizing the route to my chamber, then followed me and Winnie through its doors.
“You were right about it being warmer,” she commented, moving to the mirror. She frowned at what she saw. “I shall need to see about having clothes tailored for me at once.”
“The first order of business is to have Lady Alana dressed for supper. Your wishes are secondary,” Winnie scolded, then went over to the vanity. “My lady, I say we change out your sleeves and stomacher, but the dress remains. As for your hair, let us clean it up from that long ride, shall we?”
“Oh, Winnie,” I sighed. “Allow her ladyship to get comfortable. Go on and seek out the master tailor, Florence.”
Florence nodded appreciatively, giving Winnie a wide berth as she left the room.
Winnie scoffed and began unpinning my hair.
She brushed through it, my curls loosening into puffy, unkempt strands.
Then she tamed it with oil, pulling it back into a high updo.
Once it was set, she reached for the makeup.
I groaned, stopping her hand. “Must we?”
“Hadria has spoiled you,” Winnie replied. She once again made an attempt to paint my face, but I leaned back in my seat.
“I just saw the queen in men’s clothing, participating in a hunt with very little in the way of company—two men lagging far behind, and a single lady-in-waiting,” I justified, standing up. “I will not wear it today. Should anyone speak against my fashions, I’ll handle them.”
Winnie glowered, putting down the cream and brush. “Fine.”
Reeling with victory, I stood with my arms out while Winnie made a quick effort of changing the sleeves, working faster as her stomach growled. Once I was freshened up, we exited my bedchambers.
Curiously, there was no sign of Quinn at the door. Winnie clicked her tongue, then marched over to his door and knocked. When no answer came, she tried the handle, only to find it locked.
I shrugged. Just as we turned to go to the dining hall, though, he emerged, an opened letter still in his hand and a troubled expression on his face.
“Forgive me,” he said, quickly folding the parchment and tucking it away. “I was attending to correspondence.”
“Ooh? Did the doting Sofia Costa follow you from home?” Winnie teased.
“My mother is unwell.”
My chest tightened at the flatness in his voice. I exchanged a look with Winnie.
“I-I’m sorry, my lord,” she said.
The viscount softened with a sigh, motioning for us to start walking.
He took my other side, distancing himself from Winnie.
“My mother’s been in and out of sickness my whole life.
That’s why I was sent to Pontarena as a child; she couldn’t mother me, and my father was too busy handling affairs of the state.
It’s hardly news, but just the same, I cannot rest easy. ”
My heart broke for him. I’d never lost anyone, though I had only two people to lose before coming to Castle Altaigne. The few times my mother or father had ever fallen ill, it was a grave concern. For his mother to be sick for that long was unimaginable.
Quinn turned toward me. I smiled weakly, brows pinched with sympathy.
“In my early memories of her, she was always fatigued,” Quinn went on, made more pliable by the gentle display.
As we reached the stairs, he took the lead, speaking over his shoulder.
“She’d get headaches that would make her highly irritable.
It made being a child around her rather difficult. Then she…well, perhaps I shouldn’t.”
“Go on, sweet Quinn. You can always trust us with the matters of your heart,” Winnie said, playing nice so that he’d indulge her in more details. It might’ve swayed him away from continuing, but he was clearly too sad to read further into her words.
“Well, she lost a child when I was very small. Too young to know if it was to be a brother or a sister to me,” Quinn confessed, the darkness as clear in his voice as it was in his eyes.
I reached out uncertainly, hesitating as my fingers grazed the cloth of his coat.
“And another, years after that. A sister…Juliana Navarro. She was especially sad then, and distant.” Juliana. Such a pretty name.
I wasn’t sure why, but I prodded him on the shoulder, bringing him to a halt. He turned, looking up at me from the lower stairs, and I pointed to the letter tucked away in his coat. He seemed uncertain, then shook his head.
“It’s in Hadrian,” he said. “And even if you could read it…well, she’s seen a number of apothecaries over the years. I believe she’s beyond the point of second opinions.”
It hurt my pride, but I nodded with understanding. Then I stopped, my ears registering the sound of some commotion from the dining hall.
Quinn and Winnie heard it, too: masculine shouts, followed by the clatter of metal against stone. We exchanged glances before hurrying toward the dining hall, where we found Percy in the midst of a tirade, facing down a composed Nicolas.
“You cannot!” Percy shouted, ignoring the three of us as we entered and carefully stood against the wall. Quinn put a hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case. “Those lands were taken from me—from my father—given to that Hadrian pig! Must you insult me further, cousin?”
“The canal will allow us all to prosper,” Nicolas replied calmly, not once removing his eyes from the man.
All familial trust was long extinguished between them, if it ever existed to begin with.
“As it stands, trade moves around us, but if we construct a canal, we can tax the ships that move through it.”
“Yet when my father wanted to build a canal, King Elias denied him the right! Too many tensions with your beloved Hadria!” Percy shouted, turning on his heel to throw his arms out in spectacle.
He wanted everyone to watch, from the nobles in the room to the servants prying from the hall.
“Where exactly do your loyalties lie, Prince Nicolas? Does my own cousin believe that this fat foreign lord should be able to—”
“Lord Marius is not a foreigner, cousin. He is a loyal servant of Antier, a countryman of honor. You will recall that it was his father who prevented a battle on your former land, who served my father the King with devotion well before the merger took place.” Nicolas took a breath, but it did little to calm his rising temper.
“The tax revenue Lord Marius proposes would fund a number of undertakings for our country. A year’s worth of such income would provide for our entire navy; it would help rebuild the villages lost to last year’s floods and restart the farms that were wiped from the map!
You dare question my patriotism and deny our citizens their next meal?
Have you forgotten how famine has ravaged the countryside, cousin?
Perhaps I should have you take a holiday in the north! ”
Famine. The word echoed in my mind, drowning out the rest of Nicolas’ rant.
I’d been so consumed with court that I’d forgotten there was a kingdom beyond these walls, one that was apparently dying.
I remembered hunger like an old friend who came for visits in the dead of winter, when crops wouldn’t take and my family relied on illegal hunting and preserved foods to survive.
How many were experiencing that now, while I carelessly dined on multicourse meals?
Percy turned red. Before he could launch an outburst of his own, he turned his head to spot the queen as she made her way down the corridor.
With visible wrath he spun on his heel, making his way to his usual seat.
As he sat, his neighbors gave him some distance, and the room settled around the queen’s arrival.
I sat next to Winnie, looking up at last to see a friend staring right back at me. Angharad offered a small wave, then made wide eyes toward the end of the table, tilting her head to where Percy sat; I replied with a smirk, rolling my eyes.
Queen Adelaide, now dressed like her usual self, took her seat at the head of the table, joined in short order by her son.
The food was brought out, an excess that now felt gluttonous, and she didn’t take her time cutting into the boar that was served.
Everyone began to eat, steadily recovering from the argument.
“Duke Minnick,” the queen said, loud enough for all to hear. “Please see that Lord Marius receives our thanks for extending his hospitality to my son and Lady Alana.”
I perked up at the mention of my name, feeling as much excitement as I did anxiety. The duke, halfway through a mouthful of bread, choked in his attempt to swallow quickly. Once his windpipe was cleared, he managed a reply. “Certainly, your majesty.”
“And let him know that I have decided to accept the proposal on the construction of the canal,” she resumed.
A butterknife dropped to the floor. All eyes fell to Percy, who clutched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
The queen’s eyes fell coldly to him. “Is there an issue?”
Percy froze for several moments, then shook his head. He retrieved the knife, handing it to a quick-reflexed servant who had already grabbed a spare for him.
Leaning closer, Winnie whispered. “How well do you know the family tree, my lady?”
“I confess, not well,” I replied, barely putting air to the words.
“Well, had the merger between Gallae and Hadria not occurred, Percy’s father Alphonse would have inherited the crown,” she explained quietly. “But Percy’s mother facilitated the meeting between Adelaide and King Elias.”
She paused as a servant filled our wine.
“Some say she did it deliberately; Alphonse had a cruel streak, and she feared what kind of king he’d make.”
I looked up just in time to catch Percy shooting a leer toward Nicolas.
“The queen was originally set to marry a suitor from Baselia, and she would have been shipped away, but then she fell headover-heels for the Hadrian prince. Her father, who ruled before her, ceded the throne to King Elias during the wedding ceremony.”
I shifted my gaze to Queen Adelaide. She’d come in and put a stop to that argument with little concern for Percy’s temper. Here was not only a queen, but a matriarch. The more I heard from Winnie, the more I wished to learn.