Drew smiled. “Your Majesty, what are you doing out and about all by yourself?”
“I live here and now kind of rule the place. It seemed like something I should be free to do.” Maybe acquiring Drew for an escort wasn’t a good idea.
The two guards returned to their posts, both appearing to avoid taking part in the discussion.
“Perhaps you’ll accept my company then. Just pretend I’m not a guard. We’re probably going in the same direction.”
She knew he was going to be hard to dislodge. “Guardsman Drew, I do not need any company.” She attempted to hurry past him, but he stepped in beside her.
“An escort then.”
She really didn’t want to have a guard. “I’m not some adventuresome ladyship.” She lengthened her stride, but she couldn’t outstride a man several inches taller than she was.
Drew easily kept up. “There are some who would voice a different opinion.”
Fine, he could walk with her, but that didn’t mean she had to stay where he left her. “I’m heading to the Queen’s Salon. Would you care to walk with me?”
“It would be an honor.”
It was also a short walk. She strode into the room, took a seat and picked up a book resting on a table nearby. “Thank you, Drew. I’ll be here for a while. I’ll pick up a new escort when I head out again.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.” He bowed out of the room.
Looking down at the book in her hand, Kambry snorted. The Garden of Fellowship. She turned the pages and reminded herself she hadn’t yet read the book. Drew needed time to move on. It was possible he would stop at every guard, checking in on them. He seemed to have taken up some of Gordy’s duties. She wondered if Burty had distributed them among the guards or handed them all to a single one. It would seem more likely that Cole would be in line for such a promotion before Drew, but she wouldn’t presume to know the marshal’s preferences. Though she supposed Russal would have some input as well.
Burty was probably still sputtering over her assigning Justinia to her parents. He hadn’t actually disagreed. He disliked Kambry shifting the guards without his notice. She was unwilling to apologize, especially after receiving her first report from the guard. Justinia was a thorough woman, and Kambry was too pleased with assigning her to her parents’ safety to give any apology.
She turned another page and stopped to peer more closely. A red fox sat in high grasses, the wind pressing at the blades revealing his hiding place. Across the page the panther, donkey and rabbit sat sunning themselves. The caption stated the fox was both envious and plotting. Even with those selected words, it remained ambiguous what he was plotting. Did he want to join their group or tear it apart?
She flipped past a few pages of pastoral enjoyment for the three companions. The fox appeared again, sectioned by a cluster of saplings, his bright-red tail a flame among the brilliant-red leaves of a bush. Even his pointed, masked face revealed only a half-hidden bit of mouth between leaves, the turned-down lip because of sadness as much as disdain.
The book was almost prophetic, and she turned a couple more pages, then set the book down. She hurried to the wide white doors that opened up into another less private room, a sort of antechamber to the salon. Gently turning the knob and resting her hand on the stile of the door, she eased it open and gazed into the room. It was beautifully appointed in mauve and black and appeared empty. She stepped in. Two doors led out into the corridor beyond. With similar care, she gazed into the hall beyond and found it empty. At one end, she was sure she could make out the shoulder of a guard possibly assigned to the corner. She’d go the other way, adding only a bit more to her trek back to the audience chamber.
Finding herself nodding in complacent recognition at several guards, she maintained her stride, and none challenged her. Of course, she imagined herself as Lady Laurents, parking a caustic tilt to one brow and inspecting each guard several seconds before acknowledging their respectful salutes and passing them by.
At one point, she held a hand to her chest, containing a giggle which would have revealed her deception. She had to remind herself that as queen she had the perfect right to go where she pleased without an attendant. Wasn’t she the queen of Kavin? But hadn’t Russal asked her to keep a guard close, and didn’t Sybil suggest the same? Circumstances called for adjustments. She would have one tagalong after she completed closing off the last entrance to the inner passages.
Gazing ahead, she came upon Sarena her personal maid as she exited a room. The woman’s eyes brightened on seeing her.
“Your Majesty,” Sarena said and curtseyed.
Kambry greeted her with glee. “Sarena, how fortunate. Come walk with me.” This was the camouflage she needed. Guards would view her company adequate, someone who could call for help in the interim space between corners. She held her mouth firm, avoiding a smirk which wanted to rise. What point was there for a guard by her side when there was one at every corner? She continued her stride toward the audience chamber.
The maid advanced at once and joined her. “Do you wish my help?”
“Yes. I would like to dress for a special dinner with the king. Can you lay out an outfit for me, something with purple and deep browns that contrast?”
“I will look through your wardrobe. If you don’t have a dress with precisely those colors, I’ll come up with some embellishments that will carry the look.”
“Hmm, I had really hoped the dress would be proilis purple.”
“Ah, I know you have a dress of purple, so I can seek the browns to add the contrast you imagine.” Sarena seemed eager to please.
“Yes. That would be acceptable.”
The maid clapped her hands. Kambry eyed her. “Do you wish to wear one of your crowns?” Sarena asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.
Perhaps the woman enjoyed playing with expensive jewels. “Heavens, no.”
“An evening with the king. I understand. Do you wish special undergarments?”
Kambry felt a blush attempt to rise and pressed it away, summoning irritation. “I hardly think such a question appropriate for an open corridor.”
Sarena dropped to a contrite curtsey then rose to catch up with Kambry. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I let my desire to serve you overstep propriety. It won’t happen again.”
Kambry let her look soften. “I appreciate your enthusiasm.” They took a corner and stepped aside for a servant carrying a stack of folded sheets. “I’ll consider my point taken and leave our conversation ended. You know my request, please be about it.”
Sarena bounced out a curtsey and hurried away.
Kambry was steps away from a side entrance to the audience chamber and turned just as Dorvea stepped into view. How was it that the place was booby-trapped with all of her intimates? They gazed at each other, Dorvea’s expression comprising both curiosity and intensity. Kambry raised her chin and tipped her head, acknowledging the older guard and giving Dorvea a look of curiosity in return. Wasn’t she assigned to the Laurents? Why was she here stepping out from behind several men in house livery? The doorway behind Dorvea opened, and Lady Laurents’ vigorous voice carried through the opening.
Dorvea’s shoulders dropped a fraction. Kambry grinned at her and marched into the audience chamber, closing the door before she allowed herself to feel her success at avoiding further company. The cavernous room was empty, and she headed straight for the throne and the curtained facade beyond.
She had only covered half the distance when the door across the expanse opened and Sarena popped her head in. “Your Majesty, would you like me to have the cook prepare a special dinner? I could put in a request for particular selections.”
Kambry stiffened with annoyance. There was such a thing as too much help. “Have her put together some of the king’s favorites,” she ordered.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Sarena retreated, nearly catching her skirt in the door.
Kambry dodged behind the throne, taking a moment to glance at the addition of
a second ornate chair beside the king’s. She hoped they didn’t have to sit in them often. They didn’t look comfortable, a match to the crowns, no doubt.
She tugged aside the curtain that covered the entrance to the old keep. One lit lamp sat on the long table. She hurried through the meeting room and into the narrow hallway that lead to the map room. Fortunately, the sconces were still lit from her earlier visit, and they brightened the narrow hallway. There was little chance she would run into anyone here unless Russal remembered they’d left the access open and was busy closing it up himself.
If that was the case, Kambry supposed she’d have to sit him down and discuss the details she had left out. The door to the map room was closed, and she eased the stout door open, pleased to find its sconces still lit as well. She would take care of them when she exited. There was no reason to waste candles. She and Russal had been too distracted earlier to put them out. A thrill shivered her shoulders. She peered around the room, confirming there were no hiding places for guards unless they could camouflage themselves with maps.
Russal had shown her how to open the hidden doorway to the inner map room, and she had it rumbling aside with only a bit of fumbling. The trapdoor in the ceiling high above remained open. Another proof of Russal’s agitation when they had been alone together. She pushed aside the quick excitement that flushed through her just thinking about how they had kissed on the floor of the inner map room.
She gazed where they had embraced and had lost all sense of time beneath the diagram of their own bedroom on the wall above. The box that had held her gift sat crushed on its side, and she looked back up at the ceiling. They’d forgotten to close the trapdoor overhead. But she needed it open anyway if she was going to seal the last access.
Wafting breezes swirled about her. She called Kavin to make the map visible. The eddy of air curled around her and through the room. The purple and green glow revived in the thin lines delineating the castle routes, common and concealed.
Resting her hand over the last open access, she extended her sense of the layout, searching for anyone in the passages. She jerked her hand back. A hooded figure stood in a narrow corridor and seemed aware of her, turning as if to look right at her. Though shadows covered the woman’s features, Kambry noted brilliant-red hair hanging past the hood that covered the woman’s face. Was this Maizalyn?
Even that woman she’d rather not trap within those hidden corridors. Pressing her hand to the wall, she sent a surge of magic and demanded Kavin send the intruder out. An image formed in her head, and she watched the woman fight to remain in place as a rush of wind compelled the figure into retreating, her cloak streaming out behind her, the hood slipping back to expose fair skin and an open mouth. The woman grasped at the wall, but finding no purchase for her fingers, was pushed along, her boots sliding over the stone floor.
Exhilaration filled Kambry’s chest. What power! To force someone along amazed her and somewhat frightened her. Shaking with nervousness and fearful that the woman would fight back, she demanded more from Kavin. But the figure was hard-pressed to stop her motion. To keep from being knocked over, the woman had to take steps that soon brought her to a hidden doorway. Kambry reformed its ability to be unfastened and struck it aside with Kavin magic. When the wind tossed the woman out of the corridor, Kambry giggled and pressed the door shut and sealed it.
Earlier, she hadn’t wanted to give away that they had the power to alter the passages, but now she wanted whoever that was to know someone was in charge and could move her physically. Maybe she should lock her in the room Kambry had forced to enter. Kambry asserted her control again. But the woman was already running.
Just as Kambry was about to grab for more magic and follow her to where she might seclude herself, Kambry heard footsteps beyond the outer map room. It could be Russal, but what if it wasn’t? She rushed to the stone doorway and slipped past the ragged stone edge of the entry. She pressed it shut, glad she had only opened it far enough to step in, and dashed forward. The book she had glanced at earlier was still open on the table, and she leaned her hip casually against the table edge and flipped a page.
Drew appeared in the doorway just as she glanced up on sensing that whoever was coming was close. He perused the room. “Your Majesty, where are your guards?”
She waved a casual hand. “Oh, there about somewhere. You know how they get tucked out of sight. I believe Dorvea will be back shortly. I sent her to find the king. I wish to show him something.” Now why had she thought she needed to make Drew believe she had protection in place?
He took a step into the room. “Will you be resuming your training soon?”
It was an odd turn of conversation, but Kambry counted the days since her last workout with Lessa. Five days since the coronation activities pulled her from her routine run with her friend and sparring with Cole. Without Gordy, should she turn to Drew to arrange her schedule?
“I suppose I’ll start tomorrow if they free Lessa up from following ladies about the castle to ward off Felip Covey’s attention.” She pressed her hand to the page of the book, pretending to peruse the illustrated roadways of a small forest city. Her queen’s scabbard creased at her wrist, and she was thankful the leather was supple. But the stiffness along the back of her hand pressed hard against her middle knuckle.
“Maybe today would be a good time to start,” Drew said, taking another step into the room. “I can convey you to your chambers where you could change, and then I can take you to a training room.” He looked down the hall. “I believe there’s one in this part of the original keep if you prefer the chill.”
The ring on Kambry’s thumb flickered orange, and she stiffened. Did he just expose the intention to commit treason? The ring had never responded to sarcasm, and she had picked up an edge of mockery in his words. Drew had always been polite, and they had only just developed a teasing relationship, still early in development, recently. She let her voice harden, “Tomorrow at the earliest. I do not have time today for training. I hardly think a few days will set me back much.”
“You’d be surprised, Your Majesty, what can transpire in a few short days.”
The ring flickered again. “I think I’m over being surprised.” She eyed the king’s ring and hoped it didn’t flash green at her own deception. She was feeling far more than surprise at the thought that Drew might be a traitor. “I would like to remain here and wait for Russal.” She tapped the page. “I think he should see this.”
Drew stepped up beside her. “That’s Aldar, capital of the Neck Kingdom.”
“Hmm.” Well, fine. “Yes, Russal and I have been considering sending an ambassador to foster greater interaction to our mutual benefit.” There, that sounded realistically diplomatic.
Drew’s hand gripped her elbow, a little tighter than appropriate.
She jerked her arm from his hold and stepped around the table, placing it between them. “You overstep, Guardsman Drew.”
“I have only just begun to overstep.”
Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. This was the moment, here deep within the old keep away from everyone that protected her. She tipped her head. “I haven’t gotten the impression you have feelings for me. Maybe we need to talk about this.”
His lip curled. “You think because the king and Covey have lost their heads over you that all men worship you.”
What is another delaying action she could use? “Dorvea is on her way with your king. Perhaps you should rethink your actions.” Sarena entered the room, and Kambry yelled, “Get the guards, Sarena!”
Sarena smiled and sauntered forward, her arm reaching out to run a hand down Drew’s back. “But we have a guard right here, Your Majesty.”
Sarena is the betrayer! Kambry looked at Drew and then her personal maid. Sarena could have gone to Drew after confirming Kambry was alone in the audience chamber. Drew’s confident gaze verified her thought. And then there were two. When would someone on her side arrive? Why was today the day she achieved her g
oal of gaining a little privacy?
Kambry backed up further, her hand sliding along the table, the scabbard catching on a gouge along its edge. She wasn’t unarmed. In fact, she had a knife openly strapped at her waist along with the queen’s hidden blade. Drew’s curiosity about her training may have been a stab at finding out how trained she was. She had only sparred with him at the start of her training, so he didn’t have a clear appraisal of her skills. Still, she didn’t want to have to fight with him. His size and strength would place her at a disadvantage. “What are you two planning? You cannot take over ruling Kavin. Loyalties lie with King Russal and myself.”
“If the king’s ring accepts us, then the populace will follow, or we’ll make them,” Sarena said. She gave a throaty chuckle and shared a grin with Drew. “I am no less than Maizalyn or you, scribe queen.”
“That’s a rather simplified view,” Kambry said. “You have conspired on rather thin support.” She judged the distance to the door. Could she run for it before either could stop her?
Another person stepped into view at the door. The cloaked figure from the passages. Behind her stood a man in the shadows. He was barely taller than the woman.
She drew back the hood, revealing an older but still quite striking woman, long red hair lying about her shoulders. Her brown eyes gazed out of a self-satisfied countenance. “Hello, Queen Kambry.” She looked about the room. “I had thought to meet you in a secluded room of my choice, but this will do nicely. People visit it is rarely, and who would expect to find you here?”
Kambry channeled Lady Laurents’ best contempt. “Russal, Dorvea, several guards, in fact.”
“You did well avoiding your guards, so don’t expect any of them.” She moved with deliberate grace into the room. “Dorvea is under the thumb of Lady Laurents. Russal is busy putting out a fire. You shouldn’t expect either of them.”
Lady Laurents? Would she detain Dorvea if she knew Maizalyn was making her move? Sybil had said Maizalyn hated her. “Lady Laurents would not assist you in this grasp for power.”
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