48. Homeward #2
They’d avoided all but the necessities of Court for over a decade, telling me they had no interest in political gain.
Breckon and my father traded goods, which was how they’d become friends.
Breckon had always been more ambitious, more present at Court.
But to my knowledge, never an intimate. When I’d been here for the Festival of Lights, I’d rarely heard his name mentioned.
Now, I wondered if that was because I’d been doing my best to avoid speaking of him? How had I missed this?
“Well done, Breckon,” the king said with a smile, as if I were a fish hooked on a line. “We’re looking forward to the ceremony.”
“As am I, Your Majesty,” Breckon replied with an arrogant glance at me.
“What a pleasant excuse for a party,” the queen added, her fine features tight. But she always looked brittle. Once, when my mother had too much wine, she’d joked that the queen looked as if she needed to break wind, but couldn’t find a polite corner to do so.
At ten, I’d thought that uproariously funny.
Now, I wondered if it was a joke at all.
I curtseyed once more. “Thank you both for your hospitality,” I said calmly. “I am humbled.”
“As you should be,” the king drawled. My lungs went cold, but the queen shot him a look, then half-smiled at me. She looked as if she might speak, but the king turned on his heel, already talking to Breckon, striding ahead.
“You’ll be shown to your rooms—I’m certain you need to bathe and rest before dressing. We have guests for dinner tonight, though only a small gathering of the locals. We’ll save the true celebrations for later in the week, and after the nuptials, of course.”
“Of course,” Breckon said, offering me his arm and striding after the king so quickly, I was forced to trot to keep up.
The queen swept along in her husband’s wake, her eyes trailing to the tapestries on the wall, or the bronze bust in the alcove of the grand entrance hall, or the crown molding in the hallway.
The woman rarely seemed to keep a thought in her head beyond fashions, or pretties, as she called the fine décor and art of the castle, which she was constantly rearranging, or replacing, piece by piece.
I nodded and made inane listening noises as the king and Breckon rambled about hunting and horseflesh while we walked.
Once, I thought the queen might speak to me.
But her voice never reached me, and she was soon staring at the lovely, velvet curtains that had been erected in the alcoves of this wing since I left.
The colors had shifted from a rich burgundy, to a deep navy instead.
A coterie of servants followed in our wake—those we’d brought with us from Breckon’s estates, along with many from the castle. They carried our trunks and whispered among themselves, preparing to serve once we were assigned our quarters.
It wasn’t until the footmen hurried ahead to open the doors of a large chamber in the residential floor of the Royal wing that I realized we were being housed like family. Literally, on the same floor as the royals themselves.
I blinked, trying not to let the shock show in my expression as Breckon led me through the double-doors that were only two halls away from the royals’ personal suites.
I’d always been comfortable in the castle, always placed in a suite of prestige offered only to personal visitors of the king. But this?
I glanced at Breckon as we entered a huge suite, the ceiling even higher than the rooms I’d been given for the Festival of Lights a few months earlier.
Two fireplaces in the sitting room. An adjoining bathing room, and servant’s closet.
And then, another set of double-doors were pushed wide by a footman’s flourish, and a huge bedchamber revealed behind them, large enough for a desk, a small table, and two chairs.
It was a chamber suitable for a high ranking married couple.
I swallowed quickly, but didn’t speak as we were ushered in.
“These will be your rooms—in which I’ll join you following the ceremony,” Breckon said, patting my hand on his arm, which made me want to it my hand back. But I made myself smile. “Perfect—and an honor. Thank you, Your Majesties.”
The fact that the royals had accompanied us to see the suites was, in itself, of note.
Why were we being treated like family?
The discussion of the rooms and the queen’s pleasure with the decorations went straight over my head. I prayed my nodding and smiling was appropriately placed, because I couldn’t take anything in.
What had I missed? What was happening about which I remained ignorant?
I was confused, and did not like the sensation.
Then the maids were hurried inside, along with the footmen and servants carrying the trunks.
“You make yourself comfortable here, dear,” Breckon said, almost sweetly, which turned my stomach. “I’ll take my rooms and come to collect you before dinner.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” I said softly, with a demure curtsey that pleased the queen.
“And thank you for your generosity and welcome, Your Majesties. I remain humbled.” The queen smiled and nodded to accept the compliment.
The king eyed me for a beat too long, but didn’t respond.
Then he led Breckon out, the queen trailing in their wake, and finally, I could relax.
To a point.
Around me, servants bustled. Jade, who’d been assigned to me for this trip, directed the men on where to place the trunks for unpacking, while two of the castle servants checked the fires that had been set in anticipation of our arrival, and undertook final checks.
Suddenly exhausted, I took a seat on one of the chairs near the largest of the fires and tried to catch my breath. But this entire scene felt so out of place, so unexplained. My head buzzed and my heart beat too fast. I watched, silent, as the servants hurried about their tasks.
Jade glanced at me more than once, but I ignored her, trying to find my feet in this murky place.
I’d been so sure I understood what was happening here.
But now it was as if an entirely new gameboard had been produced, and I was afraid to apply the rules I’d always known. Because what if I defeated myself?
‘Do not fear. I will protect you,’ Koa sent kindly—and stoutly. I had to cover a smile.
‘I know you will. I’m just unsettled. I didn’t expect this.’
‘Your humans are hurtful?’
‘No. The opposite. We’re being welcomed like family.’
I could always tell when Koa wasn’t sure of her words, because her pauses grew longer. Though over this distance, sometimes she was slower to respond. When she did speak, her confusion was plain.
‘You don’t want family? They aren’t safe?’
I fixed my eyes on the window opposite, the gleaming sunlight outside, the sky above the castle blue, with scattered clouds.
‘That’s the problem… I don’t know what’s safe, and what isn’t.
The royals should be disinterested in me at best. Displeased, even.
I didn’t expect personal greetings and… it doesn’t matter.
Everything just feels a little unreal, and that makes me nervous. ’
‘I break window. Pull you out. Wait until night for safety.’
‘Thank you, Koa, but I don’t think that will be necessary,’ I sent sincerely, with a rush of love through the bond. ‘Knowing you’re close makes me safe, even when I’m unsure.’
‘Good.’
From the corner of my eye, I watched Jade take something from a bag that she held to her middle with both arms, then approach with a hesitant smile. I looked up when she reached my side.
“My Lady, while you rest, perhaps you’d enjoy something to distract you?” she said quietly.
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“I’m certain you’ll be pleased,” she said gently. I froze when she opened her arms to produce a book. The book. The one that hid my blade.
I blinked, then reached for it slowly, as if it might bite. “I… thank you… I thought I’d left it at home.” Clasping the book tightly in both hands so there was no threat of it falling open to reveal its precious contents, I stared up at her, my heart fluttering.
“I collected it for you when the Master ordered us to pack your things. I knew you’d wish for it, but you weren’t there to consult. I hope I did well,” Jade said, bowing her head slightly.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you. You did very well,” I said faintly. Why didn’t you tell me? You saw me return to the room. Why didn’t you warn me? Dear God, if I’d mentioned it to Breckon…
My heart thudded so hard, it ached behind my ribs. But thankfully, Jade turned on her heel and hurried back to the bags in the bedchamber to continue unpacking.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the cover of that book, but I didn’t dare check that its precious contents were still there while there were so many eyes in the room.
Yet, I was grateful. So grateful.
And so confused.
All I could do was beg God to make the path forward clear, because it seemed that every step I took revealed something new that I hadn’t anticipated. And I walked the line of a cliff.
And, while that path offered freedom, one wrongly placed foot on the journey would send me tumbling off the edge, and straight to my death.