Chapter 44
We’d gone all the way to the beaches of Norsomber, and not once did my husband come to my bed. Now Castle Altaigne bloomed around us, blessed with early Sumor growth. My dresses hugged just a little tighter around my bust and hips. Soon the gestation would be as public an affair as our marriage.
Ten weeks. That’s how long it had been since I’d married Nicolas.
Nine weeks since the last time he’d touched me beyond perfunctory kisses…
which was why I found myself outside Adelaide’s chambers within an hour of our return to the palace.
I had only gone to my room briefly to change before I knocked on that door, hoping I’d be able to find her alone, or at least with only Dierdre.
Fortune was on my side. Dierdre answered, and I came in, finding Adelaide hunched over at her writing desk, letter in-hand.
“Your…” I began, not sure whether I still needed to wait for permission, or how I should even begin to address her. It felt strange, but I went with, “…Mother. We need to discuss—”
“The letter,” Adelaide said, lifting up her parchment. I squinted, recognizing my own handwriting. Was she only just finding the warning I’d written about ceruse? “Yes. We certainly do.”
Dierdre pulled out a chair for me. Adelaide’s face was uncharacteristically bare, the way it might look during a hunt.
In fact, she was undone in many ways; her hair was loose and frazzled over her shoulders and her bodice was unlaced, causing the rest of her garments to sit loose around her figure.
“The royal physician has retired.”
I sat down. “Because of the letter?”
Adelaide didn’t answer right away. She set the paper down, massaging her temples.
Dierdre poured a glass of wine and handed it to her, and the former queen guzzled it down.
“Eight. That’s how many children I lost, Alana.
It is not uncommon to lose a baby, but I blamed…
I blamed my body. I put the poison on every day.
I’ve had relatives and courtiers lose their minds, and the royal physician blamed it on hysteria. ”
She stuck out the glass and Dierdre refilled it.
“Eight children,” I whispered. My hand slid unconsciously to my stomach. “And he never investigated the cause?”
Adelaide laughed. “Men who’ve never felt life quicken within them presume much about how our bodies work.” Then she looked at me, and her expression firmed. “Your parents are apothecaries. Would they consider serving as Royal Healers?”
“I believe they would be honored.”
My mother would kiss her feet for the opportunity.
“Good.” Adelaide drank down her second glass. Her head lowered, and I decided that this was not the time to bring up my marital concerns. Instead, I got up and walked closer, and with a good bit of hesitation, I placed my hand on her shoulder.
She flinched at the touch. Dierdre moved as if to step between us, but Adelaide halted her with a look. Then she met my eyes.
“Thank you.”
“It’s not your fault.” I squeezed, just slightly. “I’m sorry.”
Adelaide stared at my hand like it was the first time she’d been touched. Then she returned her focus to the wine as Deirdre refilled it. “I have much to think on, Your Majesty.” I nodded and left Adelaide to her grief.
Winnie had urgent business to attend to, and Florence remained scarce after greeting me upon my return, so aside from Marcy, I was utterly alone. The corridor felt strange, after so long away, like I had returned to a different castle than the one I’d left behind.
“Marcy,” I said, “Go rest.”
Her brow pinched. “Are you sure? Neither of your ladies-in-waiting are around.”
“I will be fine. Your wounds are still healing. You need to sleep more.”
Marcy hummed, then clicked her tongue and bowed. “All right. As you wish.”
Then she was off to sleep wherever she was stationed, somewhere near my own chambers, and I turned in the opposite direction.
I needed normality, the comfortable chatter of women. No doubt those who’d stayed behind would want to hear every detail of our journey, and gods, I could use the distraction.
The Lady’s Chamber was open. I paused at the threshold, taking in the scene.
Lady Maeve sat near the window, embroidering something small—likely for the boy she’d taken in.
Winnie was there, too, surrounded by cooing ladies as she stared down at something in her lap.
That had to be the first time I’d seen her commanding positive attention among the women.
Winnie was on her feet the moment she saw me. Her eyes were wide as she hurried over, whispering with urgency. “The fool finally asked for my hand.”
Looking down, I saw the large ring on her finger. It glinted with an impressive number of diamonds; undoubtedly, the jewelry had announced itself to the women of the chamber. I certainly didn’t see Winnie as the type to come in and announce the landmark occasion.
I walked with her to an empty sofa. My body was exhausted from travel, and the weight of my conversation with Adelaide still pressed on my shoulders.
“Tell me more.” I let myself relax. “How did he ask?”
“He stammered a bit at first…” Winnie paused, taking in her audience with barely-veiled disapproval.
Gathering herself with a steadying breath, she continued.
“We were in the garden maze, and I noticed him fumbling with something in his pocket. I was starting to accuse him of some shocking indecency, and that frightened him. He whipped out a little box, and I realized I’d accidentally rushed a process he’d almost certainly spent countless hours rehearsing in private. ”
My brows raised. The women around us giggled in amusement, but not one of them appeared to notice the elation that was missing from Winnie’s recounting.
“Anyway, I gave a tentative yes.” Winnie stroked the ring in emphasis. “Pending your approval, of course.”
I couldn’t quite get her to meet my eyes. Something was off. “Winnie, do you want this?”
“I…” she trailed, lifting her eyes to something behind me. When she didn’t finish, I turned to the source of her interest, bracing my arm on the back of the chair.
Quinn stood in the threshold, chest heaving like he’d run the length of the castle. His hair was unkempt, and his clothes were completely askew, but wildest of all were his eyes. I’d never seen them quite like this: red-rimmed, too bright. They darted all around the room until they found me.
“Your Majesty,” he choked out. “Might I have a moment?”
“Lord Quinn, whatever’s the matter?” asked Angharad from her usual perch. “My, how urgently he summons our queen.”
Quinn ignored her, keeping his attention fixed on me. “Please.”
I was already rising, flashing an apologetic look to Winnie for our unfinished business. Some of the ladies exchanged whispers that I fought to disregard as I followed Quinn into the corridor, shutting the door behind myself. Hopefully Winnie would set them straight.
Quinn paced, running his hands repeatedly through his hair. At last he met my eyes, and…were those tears? They hadn’t fallen, not yet, but his gaze was heavy with their burden.
I took his arm and pulled, guiding him into the privacy of the music room. Then I closed the door.
He put a shaking hand into his pocket and withdrew a letter.
“Look at it,” he said, pressing the parchment into my hands with enough pressure to crumple it. “Please.”
I unfolded the parchment. A lovely, Hadrian script revealed itself to me, and I couldn’t read a word of it.
Quinn came around beside me, tracing the lines, and read them aloud:
“Sweet Quinn,
I woke yesterday with the strangest sensation, as if a fog had lifted from my mind. The physicians don’t know what to make of it, but I believe I am renewed. I walked the entirety of the vineyard for the first time since you were little.
The medicine you sent me has given me back my life. My thoughts and memories are clearer than they’ve been in a long, long time. So much joy, forgotten. So much pain, improperly felt.
Come home when you can. I have much to make up for.
All my love, Mother.”
When I looked up, Quinn’s composure ruptured. He took the letter back, tucking it into his pocket before his hands went right back to his hair.
“What medicine, Alana? I didn’t send her anything. All I know is that my mother’s been dying for as long as I can remember, and now she isn’t.”
“I made it.”
Quinn went completely rigid. “You…what?”
“Back in Thornmarsh, when you were with the healer, I couldn’t rest. I’d found some Silverwood Lotus in the marshes, which binds to heavy metals. I believed your mother had lead poisoning, so…”
My hands stilled. Quinn was pale enough to faint. He took steps back until he hit the wall. His words shuddered out. “You?”
I began to sign again, but he cut me off.
“Why would you do that?”
His knees gave out. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, head in his hands.
I kneeled beside him as his shoulders began to shake. When he finally looked up at me, tears were streaming down his face. He tried to speak, but a sob tore from his chest; then he took my hand and held it to his dampened cheek.
He pulled me, perhaps with a little too much force, and held me tight within his arms.
“You gave my mother back,” he whispered, digging into my hair. His body trembled against mine. I held him together in my arms; if I let go, he might have fallen apart. “You saved her.”
I smiled as much as I could, my fingers tracing patterns on his back.
“I don’t even know how to thank you. What do I give you, Alana?” he asked, pulling back to look at me. He brought one of my palms to his lips. Heat sang through my veins from that small contact. “My life? It’s yours.”
My lips twitched, wanting to smile, but… But I was already in possession of a life.
As good as his touch felt, it twisted something else inside of me. Not quite guilt, but longing. I missed Nicolas, and if he saw us now, if he knew the way Quinn held me…
“I should go,” I signed quickly, rising to my feet.
Quinn stared for a long moment and nodded, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Of course. I… Thank you, Alana.”
I fled before he could say more, my legs carrying me through the corridors with purpose. I needed to see Nicolas, to bridge this miserable distance between us.
The walk to his chambers felt longer than usual. My heart ached, throbbing faster with each step. I hoped he’d see reason; maybe I could leverage Adelaide’s revelation about the physician.
Sieur Eldridge looked at me as I came nearer, straightening his posture. He took a step forward, moving between me and the door. “Your Majesty? The king is not expecting you.”
I tried to move past him, only for him to, once again, stand in my way.
All I could do was hold up my wedding ring and point to it.
I mustered the sternest face I could make, and eventually, he buckled, though his gaze fell with such resignation that I almost wanted to change my mind about the whole thing.
No one answered when I knocked. I tried the handle and pushed open the door, bracing myself for what was likely to be a difficult conversation, but one with a happy enough outcome.
My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. His curtains were drawn, leaving only candlelight to brighten the room. As the door closed behind me, I searched around.
“Nic—”
The sheer curtains around the bed revealed a woman’s silhouette. She straddled my husband, long hair cascading down her bare back. Nicolas’ hands were on her hips, head pressed deep into the mattress and thrown back in the same pleasure he’d denied me for nine weeks.
And their sounds, a hellish cacophony of urgent passions…
The woman’s moans had drowned out my entry.
I shut my eyes, but no matter how I cupped my ears, her sounds still bled between my fingers.
Nicolas’ breathless groans, those faint cracks when she caressed him precisely how and where he liked to be touched— “No,” I breathed.
Then I stormed forward and tore open the curtains.
Nicolas halted, but the woman remained on top of him and had the audacity to act annoyed.
“No! No, you will not take a whore! Not when you will not touch me!”
My voice betrayed the tears I held back. The woman lifted a sheet to cover herself, but was swiftly bucked off as Nicolas sat up, his features drained of color.
“You would dare speak to your king in such a manner?” asked the woman, and Nicolas shot her a wicked look. Then his gaze fell to me.
“Alana—”
“Get her out!” I screamed, turning away. She was prettier than I’d expected, this mistress I’d heard rumors of. Her long, blonde hair fell over perfect, perky breasts, and her lips were painted like mulled wine.
Nicolas obliged me, dismissing the woman. She put on a robe, walking right past me on her way to the door. I smelled him on her in the same way I might smell a perfume wafting by, and I thought of how it would feel to reach out and strangle the wench.
“I’ll see you soon?” she asked.
“Get out,” Nicolas replied.
She seemed hurt. Good.
And then she was gone.
Nicolas watched me from the bed. We were both quiet; I wondered if he was trying to come up with an excuse. There was nothing he could say, though.
I’d go first, then.
“The Royal Physician and your mother are wrong, and you are an idiot.”
Nicolas leaned back, parting his lips.
“We should still be using our shared suite.” I flexed my fingers and balled them back into fists. “You’re a fool if you believe I would carry your child for months, untouched, while you seek comfort elsewhere.”
He had the decency, at least, to avert his gaze.
“I am yours to want,” I said, remembering Quinn. I almost wished I’d let him into my room that night, if only for Nicolas to walk in as I had just now. “Do not forsake me again.”
It didn’t seem like he had anything to say for himself. I stomped to the door, stopping before touching the handle.
“Touch another whore again, and I will show you exactly the sort of witch your subjects are afraid of.”