Forbidden Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 1)

by R. J. Vickers

  “Provided he wakes up naturally before the day is out, he will recover well enough. Your body seemed to stave off the effects longer than his did—he was nearly gone by the time he arrived here, and we had to force the emetic down his throat.”

  I watched him with concern. His brown face was paler than usual, and his chest was hardly rising and falling. “You know what I am, don’t you?”

  The woman nodded, smiling. “I am your family’s personal medic. I am privy to all gossip that passes through the Cheltish wing.” I looked at her properly for the first time and noticed that she had high cheekbones and an unusual almond shape to her eyes. She was likely a Drifter, one of the forest people with a gift for healing, but I did not think it prudent to ask.

  “Well, Leoth spent more time near me than he ought to last night,” I said instead, “so I was gaining strength while his drained away.”

  “That would explain it. We will keep a close eye on him and hope for the best. And in the meantime, we will see how your stomach handles a bit of broth.”

  When the medic left to fetch a bowl of broth, I rose from my bed and nearly fell as dizziness swept over me once more. My muscles felt as though they had been replaced with water; I had to lean heavily on each bed I passed to limp my way over to Leoth’s side.

  His face looked so innocent in sleep. I sat in the chair beside his bed and watched his chest rise and fall almost imperceptibly, listening to the painfully weak rasp of air passing through his lips. He still wore his shirt from the dance, though it was unbuttoned, revealing a delicate swath of hair on his chest.

  “At least he is sleeping peacefully,” the medic said from behind me.

  I flinched. I had not heard her return.

  “You ought not to leave your bed.” Setting the steaming bowl of broth on my bedside table, she helped me stumble back to bed.

  “I hate him for trying to steal my throne,” I said as the medic pressed the bowl of broth into my hands. “But he saved my life. I wouldn’t want him to die on my account.”

  “We have done everything we can for him,” the medic said gently. “Now our only recourse is to wait and hope.”

  Though the broth smelled delicious, it did not sit well in my stomach. I set it aside after only a few sips, feeling nauseous once again, though I was determined not to lose what little liquid I had managed to imbibe.

  “There is a bucket beside your bed if you feel ill,” the medic said, as if reading my mind. “There is nothing more I can do except let you rest. Is there anything I can bring you?”

  “If you send someone to fetch the books in my tower, I would be very grateful.”

  “Right away, Your Highness.”

  I had expected a servant, but it was Mother who arrived before long with an armful of books, her hair still unbound.

  “Oh! My darling!” She rushed over to my bedside and kissed my forehead, feeling my cheeks for a fever. “Olleack says you are very lucky to be alive. Is Leoth—”

  “He hasn’t woken yet.”

  Mother’s brows drew together in concern. Then she whispered, “Well, it would solve one problem if he were never to wake.”

  I stifled the protestation that sprang to my lips. My indignation was a clear sign that I had begun to think of Leoth as more than just a means to an end.

  “Do let me know if you want anything else,” Mother said. “We have entertaining novels as well, not just these dry history books that I always forced you to read.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I might just sleep for now, though. I want to recover as soon as possible.”

  Mother smoothed my hair back from my forehead and gave me a fond smile before retreating.

  Once I was alone again, however, I could not get comfortable. My head and eyes ached too much to allow for reading, but whenever I lay down and tried to sleep, my muscles cramped and twitched until I wanted to jump from bed and start running. I tried not to look over at Leoth, but he worried me as well, and each time my eyes fell closed I feared he might slip from life while I was not keeping vigil.

  It was nearly evening, judging by the dim light coming through the high windows, when I heard a groan and rustling sheets from the other side of the room.

  “Leoth!” I was confused by the warmth that flooded my chest.

  He groaned again and struggled to sit up. “Is that you, Princess?” he mumbled. “Where are we?”

  “In the hospital room,” I said. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake.” I was feeling better than before, so I got to my feet with the intent to join him, though I immediately regretted it—my legs felt weak and unsteady, and my vision began to swim once again. Determined, I steadied myself on the same beds I’d used before to hobble my way across the room.

  “We were poisoned, weren’t we?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He glanced down and seemed to realize just then that his shirt hung open—reddening, he pulled the blankets up to his chin.

  “Yes.” I sank into the chair by his bed, breathing heavily. “I wanted to thank you. You saved me. I would never have noticed the poison.”

  “I was the one who convinced you to try the wine in the first place,” Leoth said grimly. “You wouldn’t have needed saving if not for me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You weren’t behind this, were you?”

  “What kind of idiot would I have to be to poison myself?” He looked convincingly indignant, and I knew he was telling the truth—if he had been the one trying to finish me off, he would have merely pretended to drink the wine, and would have said nothing of the poison until I collapsed.

  “We must have a common enemy, then,” I said. “Anyone in the city would recognize you, and I cannot believe someone who supported you would be willing to poison you just to finish me off.”

  “There are many dangerous people in Baylore,” Leoth said darkly. “But anyone who would strike at both of us—even accidentally—must be an enemy of the crown. Or of our family specifically. I don’t—”

  He broke off coughing, so violently that his face drained of color, and a second later the medic emerged from her office with a glass of water. Not wanting to get in her way, I fumbled my way back to my own bed, where I tried to finish the long-cooled bowl of broth. Leoth had stopped coughing, and he was answering the medic’s questions with more solemnity than I was accustomed to. He had thought himself invincible, untouched by the scandal that surrounded me and Mother; now he had been drawn into the same ugly games.

  “And how are you?” the medic asked once she had tended to Leoth. “Are you holding that broth down well enough? Ready to try something a bit heartier?”

  My stomach was churning again, so I shook my head. “Maybe tomorrow. How long do you think it will take us to recover?”

  “It could be up to a quarter before your strength returns. You should be able to relocate to your own chambers within a few days, though I don’t like the idea of you climbing that many stairs too soon.”

  “Ah.” That was longer than I wanted to stay cooped up here. With Midwinter fast approaching, I did not have long before the palace election. The more time I spent out of the public eye, with rumors flying behind my back, the more it could damage my chances.

  * * *

  Several days passed with painful slowness. It was another full day before I could walk without leaning on the bedframes, and neither of us could keep down any solid food until the third day of our convalescence.

  Once we could both walk without stumbling, we drew two beds closer together and propped a table between them so we could play cards and Kins. Leoth introduced me to a two-player game of strategy called Bastien, but he beat me so consistently that I soon gave up on it. A few times, Leoth fell asleep in the middle of a game, and I was forced to retreat until he woke several hours later. Little though I wished to admit it, I was beginning to enjoy his company, and was glad to have the companionship of someone who was just as willing to discuss serious politics as he was to poke fun at the fashions we had seen at the H
arvest Ball.

  “Do you have a secret that would ruin your reputation forever if it got out?” Leoth asked out of the blue on the third day after the ball. I was shuffling our cards for another round, but I paused to frown at him. “Because I do. And I think most royals are hiding secrets of their own.”

  “Why would you tell me that?” I asked. “Now I want to find out what it is, so I can sabotage your chances of taking my throne.”

  “I had hoped you might sympathize,” Leoth said with a half-smile.

  “Or you wanted leverage you could use against me.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “If you want the story of my mother’s great betrayal, how she had an affair with an outsider whose forbidden blood runs in my veins, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. My taint comes from farther back.”

  “Are you suggesting I might carry it as well?” Leoth asked, his voice growing dangerously soft.

  “That was not my intention,” I said. “But you know how these things work. Magical blood can be passed down for generations before manifesting itself. Everyone at Baylore Palace could have forbidden ancestry without knowing it.”

  “But it never has manifested itself,” Leoth said, his voice still very quiet, “except in you. If your mother wasn’t the missing link, where was it?”

  I realized too late that he might be able to dig deeper and find something about my father’s unknown parentage. “I don’t know, and I suspect no one knows for certain,” I said.

  Leoth seemed to see right through my lie, though he did not argue.

  “Another game of cards?” I suggested lightly; his wholehearted agreement showed me that he was as worried as I was, for reasons I could not fathom.

  * * *

  When at last we were released from the hospital, I went straight to Mother and told her, “Leoth just admitted he has a secret that would ruin his reputation forever if it was unearthed. Do you think we could find out what it is?”

  “It’s interesting that you say that.” Mother rummaged through her desk until she found an envelope with a thick wad of parchment within. “Do you know the context of this secret? Is it a scandalous affair, an illicit deal, or something the whole family is trying to keep hushed up?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Mother began rifling through the parchment within the envelope. “I have been looking into Leoth’s past, and while I uncovered nothing suspicious in the last eighteen years, I did find this.” She handed me a piece of parchment with a clean tear down the middle. “His birth records have been destroyed or hidden. This could be his secret. If he is illegitimate, he would have no claim whatsoever to the throne.”

  19

  Dangerous Games

  T hat first night back in my own room, I dreamed of Leoth. I dreamed we danced the night away, each dance bringing our bodies closer, until we reached a slow Bashard where his arms folded around me like an embrace, my body pressed against his, our cheeks touching. His warmth enveloped me, and I wanted the dance to go on forever.

  When I woke, the dream lingered with me for a long time, folding me in its sweet warmth. It left my feelings for Leoth jumbled and confused—surely I could not be falling for someone I had loathed from the moment I first set eyes on him. Yet I longed to sink back into the dream and feel that delicious closeness again.

  As I headed to Mother’s office to ask her what work I could help with, Leoth came up the stairs from breakfast, and I could not resist meeting his eyes. He gave me a warm, genuine smile; I hated and loved the way it made my heart beat faster.

  Mother was not at her desk, though. When I went looking for her, I found only Lyla, who said, “The queen has received word from a messenger. I think it’s to do with the king.”

  I was not strong enough to walk to the far ends of the palace in search of her, so I was forced to wait until one of our guards came skidding down the hall into our wing, calling, “The king has returned! The king has returned!”

  Perhaps I would find the strength to walk the length of the palace after all. With a groan, I rose and joined the cluster of courtiers flanked by guards who were convening in the common area.

  The atmosphere at the palace gates was far different than it had been at the king’s departure. Those within the gates—courtiers and guards and servants—looked overjoyed for their king to return home, but the townsfolk in the square were being forcibly restrained by city guards, and a few angry shouts broke out from the crowd.

  This time the king’s carriage rolled straight through the gates and came to a halt at the foot of the palace steps. The king did not emerge until the gates were locked.

  What had changed? How had a few short spans turned the public so firmly against their beloved king?

  “Thank you,” the king said as he brushed past the palace residents. “I will need the current and future heads of each ruling family to join me in the assembly chamber. Now, if you may.” He said this over his shoulder, almost offhand, yet the royal household leapt into action as soon as he reached the top of the stairs.

  As the royals broke away from the rest of the crowd, I struggled to keep up; Leoth was right beside me, panting and stopping to lean over with his hands on his knees every few steps. Mother followed us as far as the assembly chamber, where she stopped just outside the door.

  “I think this excludes me,” she said gently. And indeed, there were several other spouses of royalty waiting on chairs in the hallway outside the chamber.

  “Should I go in?” Leoth asked.

  “If you still hope to pretend you are the legitimate heir, that would be wise,” Mother said drily. “I personally wish you would stay here with me.”

  Straightening, Leoth strode into the chamber, all traces of his exhaustion sliding away.

  The royal assembly chamber was dominated by a round table, around which sat twenty identical tall-backed chairs. The king beckoned me to take the chair to his right, while Leoth chose the seat on my opposite side. Once the royalty had taken their seats, nine remained vacant. I recognized Mother’s cousin, Ellarie, but most of the royals were unfamiliar—I had merely glimpsed them at the Harvest Ball, and had not known their faces when the full palace assembled.

  “What news have I missed in Baylore?” the king asked.

  When no one seemed eager to supply an answer, I said, “An emissary arrived from King’s Port with an interesting proposal. We asked him to remain here until you returned from Larkhaven.”

  “Very good,” the king said. “And this reception I received today—has anything changed since my departure?”

  Leoth cleared his throat. “Princess Kalleah was attacked by townsfolk when she ventured outside the palace. It was very unpleasant. And at the Harvest Ball, we were both poisoned. Public opinion could be turning against our family as a whole.”

  The king’s brow furrowed. He gave me just a fleeting glance, but I knew he would interrogate Mother for the full details this evening. “We reached an impasse with Larkhaven,” he said at last. “They are wary, for a few ships from Whitland have docked at their harbor. Whitland never trades directly with Larkhaven, or so I am told; any merchants who wish to deal with us work through intermediaries, as the High King does not allow Whitland to acknowledge our sovereignty.”

  “What were Whitish ships doing in Larkhaven?” asked a middle-aged woman with a delicate crown pinned into her greying hair. “Did they take the time to find out?”

  “There are no official customs check-points at the harbor,” King Baltheor said tiredly. “No one thought to question the Whitish traders until it was too late. Most of them appeared to be ordinary merchants, but the fact that they have suddenly decided to open up trade with Itrea after centuries of denying our existence speaks to some underlying conflict that has driven them here.”

  “Where do we stand now, in that case?” said a white-haired man with deep laugh lines. “I assume all is business as usual until Larkhaven decides otherwise?”

  “Indeed,” the king said. “This will be a burden for
my heir. I only got as far as forcing Larkhaven to agree that they will hold off on any decisive actions until they are able to negotiate with the new monarch.”

  Leoth and I looked at each other, and I wondered what he was thinking. Would he be willing to sacrifice Larkhaven—and the economic success of Baylore—if it furthered his own goals?

  “I do hope Larkhaven will be searching all ships that dock at their harbor from now on,” said the same woman who had spoken before.

  “Yes, of course,” King Baltheor said. “They put a harbor patrol in place spans ago, once they realized they had no documentation from the Whitish ships. Historically there was a customs office checking all arrivals, but I suppose the lack of new ships in their waters has made Larkhaven complacent.”

  “We don’t have to let Larkhaven have its way,” a sharp-faced young man suggested. “Their population is, what, a twentieth the size of Baylore Valley? Even if the entire east coast joins them, they would still hold only a tenth of the inland population. I say we send armed forces to make sure they stay in line. They have no right to split off and take the most valuable land from Itrea.”

  “This is exactly what we want to prevent at all costs,” King Baltheor said gravely. “If it came to war, we would doubtless win, unless the Wandering Woods turned on us. But our prosperity and peace would shatter around us. I do not want to be the monarch who saw the end of Baylore’s golden age.”

  No, I agreed silently. You won’t be. That will be me.

  * * *

  When the royals were dismissed, I walked slowly back to the Cheltish wing, partly because I was still weak, but mostly because my head was spinning. I was so distracted I did not even notice Leoth fall into step beside me.

  “I don’t envy the heir,” he said darkly, which earned him a smile. I was beginning to see that I could not rely on my parents’ reputation, on their hard work, once I was in power. I would need to forge my own alliances if I wished to turn back the tide of intolerance and warmongering.