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

by R. J. Vickers

  Once we reached our wing at last, I drew aside my favorite guard—the older man who did not seem to fear me—and asked him to send a message to the emissary. Mother and the king were already closed away in the royal suite, and I did not want to disturb them until I was summoned. Instead I clambered up the spiraling stairs to my room, pausing every few steps to catch my breath, and collapsed on my bed to read a copy of the Baylore Daily that had been delivered to our wing. Instead I fell asleep.

  * * *

  The following day, I ventured down to Leoth’s favorite sitting room in the historic wing, where I had requested the emissary to meet with me. He was a very trusting man, for he came alone, while I was surrounded by my usual four guards.

  “I must admit, I am intrigued, Your Majesty,” he said, giving me a deep, formal bow. His fashion sense had mellowed out during his stay at Baylore Palace, and his shirt could have belonged to any of the noblemen here, but his fingers were still adorned with too many heavy gold rings.

  “Thank you for taking the time to join me.” I settled on the grandest chair and signaled one of my guards to pour tea. “I know you will be approached soon by King Baltheor and other influential royalty, since the time has come to negotiate a deal with King’s Port, but I wanted to share my intentions with you directly. Unless my half-cousin wins the palace vote, I will be taking the throne in a few short spans. I will soon be the voice of authority here.”

  “Then let us hope you do take the throne, Your Majesty,” the emissary said smoothly.

  I nodded. “I intend to keep Larkhaven no matter what, because the cost of losing our only port is far greater than any loss in troops we might sustain through military action, but I can also see the benefit of opening trade with King’s Port. It would anger our people if you gained a greater advantage and still remained separate, free from taxation, yet I don’t want to turn the population of King’s Port against the throne. What would it take to tie the southern ports more firmly to Itrea without alienating our existing population?”

  “I won’t lie,” the emissary said smoothly. “Trading directly with Baylore would be a huge boost to our economy. With the current arrangement, the Larkhaven ships we deal with take a cut of every item sold through them, so we take home the smallest sliver of profit for the most risk. If you deliver black market goods directly to King’s Port, we cut out the middle man.”

  “Surely this will be a blow to Larkhaven?”

  The emissary leaned back in his cushioned chair, the picture of casual grace. “Only a few ships from Larkhaven are willing to participate in our black market trading. Most of the merchants there are perfectly happy to continue selling to Varrival, Cashabree, and Ruunas, where they know Whitland is unlikely to interfere. The demand for illicit magical trinkets and potions in other countries is growing, and we cannot keep up with demand under the current arrangement.” Taking a sip of his tea, he gave me a charming smile. “If we received a greater share of your exports—especially Weaver-made items—we could give you a generous fifteen percent of all profits and still come out ahead. I propose that you instate this new shipping levy in place of a general tax, as everyone will benefit.”

  “It all sounds very positive,” I said. “Are there any downsides to this arrangement you can foresee?”

  “Just the initial outlay,” the emissary said. “It will cost several million varlins to put the road in place, and could take five to ten years to finish.”

  “You said we might finish before next winter.”

  “That was an optimistic estimate.”

  “So I would risk angering my populace by taxing them heavily to fund what they might see as a fool’s project, and a different monarch ten years from now will reap the rewards.”

  “Precisely.” The emissary gave me a roguish smile. “All you have to do is decide what matters the most to you: the future of Itrea or your own reputation.”

  I wished I could answer that easily, but the truth was, if I damaged my reputation any further, I might lose my say in Itrea’s future.

  The emissary did not need to hear my private concerns, though. I stood and thanked him, saying, “You have given me much to think about. I have no authority to make decisions until after I have been crowned—if I am crowned—but I hope you will keep my interest in strengthening our ties in mind when you negotiate with King Baltheor.”

  “I will indeed,” the emissary said. He kissed my hand, giving me a sideways smile that reminded me why women flocked around him—they were not just after his presumed wealth. “As I said, this arrangement would be mutually beneficial, as long as we can justify the initial cost.”

  Remembering his flock of women gave me a sudden idea. “Wait. One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “If this road benefits King’s Port as much as you say it does, and I have promised to fund our half of the project, surely it would benefit you if I took the throne.”

  The emissary raised his eyebrows at me. “And?”

  “If you have any influence with the women you are currently stringing along, you might suggest that they vote for me—in order to win your favor.”

  He chuckled. “Very clever, Your Highness. Vaguely corrupt, of course, but that’s what my own city is best known for.” With another bow and a flourish, he strode away.

  I frowned after him, not at all sure whether he intended to help.

  * * *

  Rather than seeking out Mother and the king, who did not appear to be in the Cheltish wing in any case, I headed straight for Leoth’s room. I had never seen his bedchamber before, and was surprised to find it sparse though comfortable. Apart from the sword that hung from one wall, the room was devoid of decorations.

  Leoth had been lounging in a chair with one leg draped over the arm, looking most un-princely, but he snapped to attention when he saw me.

  “What are you doing here?” He sounded defensive.

  “I wanted to discuss political matters with you,” I said lightly. “Is there somewhere we can go where we won’t be overheard?”

  “Pretty much anywhere in the castle,” he said, “though people might wonder why you’ve suddenly taken an interest in my company.”

  I tried not to let the heat creep up my neck. This was strictly political; I had to take provisions in case I was not elected. The fact that it was Leoth who would be taking my place was mere coincidence.

  As he straightened his shirt and donned a jacket, Leoth regained his usual haughty air of self-assurance. “I know of just the place, now that you mention it. But don’t come charging in like that without knocking. I might have been indecent.”

  This time I really did blush. “I thought only women were supposed to change outfits several times a day,” I said, trying to cover my embarrassment. “Or do you simply lounge around in the nude?”

  Leoth laughed. “Maybe that was an exaggeration, but you startled me. Come on. I want to hear about these political matters that were important enough for you to seek out my company.”

  I had expected him to lead me to a different wing of the palace, but instead we continued down the same hallway past his bedroom until it turned a corner to a part of our family’s wing I had not known existed. At the end of the hall, a doorway led out to a set of stairs exposed to the elements, though the graceful stonework around the stairs concealed most of the view. This rose one story before opening onto a rooftop courtyard ringed by stone arches that gave the impression of a grand ballroom with windows.

  “This is amazing!” I spun around, breathing deeply of the crisp fall air and closing my eyes as the wind rushed over my cheeks. “There’s my tower! And I didn’t even realize we had two other towers.”

  I could not believe I had never known this place existed. The courtyard was hidden behind the one part of my tower that did not have windows, and the other courtiers’ reactions to me had discouraged further exploration.

  When I stopped gazing in wonder at my surroundings, I caught Leoth watching me with a huge grin.


  “What?”

  He straightened his face, though his eyes were still crinkled with pleasure. “Not many courtiers are willing to show such emotion. I forget sometimes how new you are to Baylore.”

  “I wish I had known about this from the beginning.” I leaned against the balustrade, gazing over the city in the direction of Larkhaven and the Wandering Woods. “I feel so stifled here. Mother prepared me for palace life in every way but this.”

  Leoth leaned back on the wall beside me, the wind ruffling his untidy black curls. “What was it like, growing up in Ambervale? I’ve heard so many stories of faraway places, but I’ve never traveled farther than Twenty-League Town. Even visiting Larkhaven would be a treat.”

  “I never thought much of it at the time,” I said. “Mother always told me how much better life was at the palace—how comfortable the beds were, how delicious the food, and how beautiful the fashions. And of course I dreamed of roaring fireplaces that would keep me warm all night, rather than our pitiful fire that always died halfway through the coldest winter nights. But I had so much freedom back then. I used to explore the hills and forests and mountainsides, and no one cared as long as I didn’t look as though I was about to put a curse on their goats.”

  Leoth chuckled at this.

  “And it was beautiful, too, far more magnificent than this palace could ever be. I wish I had been born a commoner in Ambervale, so I could have loved the place for what it was and never wished for more.” I sighed, imagining I could see the ocean beyond the horizon. “What was it like growing up in the palace?”

  “Insufferable,” Leoth said with a smile. “At least you just had your mother teaching you manners and whatnot. I had what felt like an army of tutors and disciplinarians and guards following my every move, reporting every misstep to my parents. I gave up years ago, because the harder I try to please them, the more I let them down. They never thought you would return, so they treated me like the heir apparent. Even your father did, I’m sorry to say.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” I muttered. “He is a stranger to me, and I think he secretly hoped we would never return.”

  When I chanced another look at Leoth’s expression, his eyes were distant. After a lingering silence, he blinked and said, “Why did you ask me to speak with you in private, Kalleah?”

  A tingle ran up my spine at the sound of my name. I wasn’t sure he had ever called me Kalleah before; it was always “Princess” or one of his other foolish nicknames.

  “I know you,” he continued. “You wouldn’t have sought my company unless it was important. We haven’t come up here just to gaze at the horizon.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to banish the warmth from my face. “I spoke to the emissary from King’s Port today.” My tone was brusque and businesslike—I could not let slip how much Leoth’s presence disarmed me. He was far too dangerous. “His proposal to build an inland trade route between Baylore and the pirate port holds merit. Surely you must see the sense in this; I thought perhaps we could agree on certain policy decisions that would go ahead regardless of who took the throne.”

  Leoth must have noticed my sudden reversion to stiff formality, but his eyes widened at the suggestion. “Have you brought this up with your parents?”

  I shook my head.

  “You would make a deal with me, behind their backs, knowing that we have similar aims?”

  “It doesn’t involve them, in all honesty,” I said. “I won’t serve as my father’s puppet, and I’m sure you have no intention of that either. I don’t want to antagonize Larkhaven—we can’t have them seeing this as a means of undercutting their trade—but we really are quite vulnerable as long as we have only one harbor under our control.”

  “I see no downside of the trade route,” Leoth said. “Why wouldn’t I approve the deal?”

  “Because we will need to increase taxes, and everyone will grumble about the unnecessary expense. Whoever begins the project will face opposition, and whoever sits on the throne when it is finished—in five years’ time, or perhaps ten—will claim the praise.”

  Leoth ran a hand through his hair, one foot bent and resting on the wall behind him as he thought. He looked utterly charming, much more a rogue than a prince. “I think it needs to be done, either way,” he said at last. “You can tell Ricardin—”

  “Who?”

  “The emissary—don’t tell me you never bothered to learn his name?”

  I shook my head, smiling ruefully.

  Leoth grinned. “Really, Princess, I expected better of you. Anyway, you can tell Ricardin that Baylore will support his trade project as soon as the new ruling cycle begins, regardless of who takes the throne.”

  “Thank you,” I said warmly. I had not expected him to agree so readily. I almost asked if he really was still planning to compete against me for the throne, but I knew what he would say, and I did not want to ruin the moment.

  Straightening and brushing off my sleeves, which were coated in a fine white dust from where they had rested on the balustrade, I gave Leoth a curtsey. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Wait,” Leoth said, reaching out a hand as if to grab my arm, though he stopped short. “Will you join me up here tonight? The stars are exquisite from such a height.”

  “I would be glad to.” I turned and hurried away before he could see my smile.

  20

  The King’s Daughter

  A ll through dinner, I forced myself to train my gaze on my plate. If I glanced up, I would not be able to stop my eyes from darting sideways to see if Leoth was watching me.

  This was all wrong. I had come to Baylore to become the queen our country needed, not to chase an imaginary romance with my greatest rival. I should know better—I had spent all eighteen years of my life learning to stifle my own desires in favor of what was best for the kingdom.

  Yet I could not deny the power Leoth held over me. It was not his handsome visage or his sly charm that had captivated me, though I couldn’t pretend I was immune to those. No, it was the warmth in his gaze when he met my eyes, the way he made me forget about my curse for the rare moments I spent in his company. To him, it seemed my deadly power was as inconsequential as a blemish on my skin. I had thought my devotion to Itrea would count for more against such temptations, but that cold logic stood little chance against my craving for affection.

  I finished eating before anyone at the high table, and only realized this when Mother gave me a disapproving look. I must have forgotten my manners.

  Forcing myself to sip daintily at my watered-down wine, I waited until the king had set aside his knife before excusing myself. As I swept away from the high table in a swirl of skirts, I could not resist one look at Leoth. He gave me a sly smile, as though he knew exactly what a mess he had made of my thoughts.

  I was so distracted I nearly collided with a pair of young servants in the hallway.

  “Pardon me,” I said, standing to the side so they could pass.

  The servants drew back, twin looks of shock on their faces. At second glance, I realized one of them was Prince Calden, Ellarie’s son, wearing a servant’s coat over his own fine clothes.

  “Cal?” I said in undertones. “I thought your mother warned you not to spend time with servants.”

  “It’s my fault, Your Highness,” said the servant girl, who dropped into a smooth curtsey. “I was out at market today, and someone slipped me a message that was meant for King Baltheor’s eyes only. It wasn’t anyone I recognized, so I didn’t know what to do. I had to ask Cal for help. He wouldn’t be here at all if not for me.”

  “You couldn’t simply deliver the message to the king?” I asked, trying to hide my amusement. Even without spotting the crack in the seal, I could tell from Cal’s jumpy manner that he had read the secret missive.

  “I don’t think just anyone is allowed to write a private message for the king,” Cal mumbled. “There could have been some deadly poison inside, or maybe it was just a joke and Madda wo
uld get in trouble for wasting the king’s time.”

  I held out my hand, and Cal handed me the folded parchment, shuffling his feet as he did. He hadn’t even bothered to re-heat the seal—the parchment fell open in my hands. The first thing I noticed was the impeccable handwriting, though a few words were misspelled. Whoever had written this was well-trained. Then I started to read, and my heartbeat sped up.

  To His Majesty King Baltheor—

  You must be aware that your daughter has made countless enemies in Baylore. Whether or not she is your blood relation, you take responsibility for her by claiming her as yours. Rest assured that, should she take the throne, we will hold you and every member of the palace accountable. We have powerful allies, and should you disregard our warning, yours will be the hand that brought war to our once-peaceful shores. You ought to have killed the demon when she drew her first breath. If Kalleah rules, then death will come for you and for everyone you hold dear. Consider yourself warned.

  -A friend

  “You shouldn’t have read this,” I said, trying to sound stern rather than frightened. “Go back to your quarters at once, and if either of you breathes a word of this to anyone, I will find you and lock you up.”

  The servant girl threw a despairing glance at Cal before turning and running down a side corridor, while Cal lingered before me, chewing on his lip.

  I folded away the note, the words already imprinted in my memory, and raised an eyebrow at Cal.

  “What does it mean?” he asked at last.

  “I hope it’s nothing but a trick meant to frighten people away from me,” I said, though the warnings rang uncomfortably true. “If my parents choose not to support my rule, I would have no friends left in the palace.”

  “I would still support you,” Cal said, looking inexplicably shy. “Do you really think there’s going to be a war if you become queen?”