“Our lion is hundreds of years old and considers himself the keeper of our ancient traditions.” Angelique rolled her eyes. “He’s written some fantastically boring book explaining them. You weren’t supposed to be in the hall at all. I’m only allowed in myself on a technicality.”
I wondered how many of these “traditions” there were and how easy it would be to violate them by accident. It would probably be a good idea to find a copy of that book, however dull it mightbe.
We climbed up a short flight of steps, and I made themistake of grabbing for the banister with my injured arm. I swore under my breath and jerked it back.
“The chirurgeon will see to your arm. And the rest of your injuries,” Angelique said, looking over my various cuts and bruises. “After that, perhaps a bath?”
“The very suggestion,” I replied, “makes me want to kiss you.”
She laughed merrily. “Surely you don’t mean that.”
“I think you underestimate just how desperately I want a bath.”
“Then that was rather forward of you,” she said, smiling as she gazed at me through half-lidded eyes. “Not to mention verging on scandalous.”
Oh, dear. I hadn’t intended to be suggestive. My doomed flirtation with Sam had been bad enough without my also attracting the interest of…who was this, exactly? The keys suggested an upper servant of some kind. “Er, are you the chatelaine here? Will I be consulting with you about the wedding arrangements?”
“Something like that,” she said. “I’m Gervase’s older sister.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn’t know the king had a sister.” She hadn’t been on the list of names I’d had to memorize during my lessons. And in Jack’s story of the attacks on the royal family, she’d gone entirely unmentioned.
“You’re not alone in that.” Her smile didn’t drop. “No one but Gervase ever seems to remember I exist. We had different mothers, and mine produced no male heirs, so hardly counted.”
“A surplus stepdaughter? I know how that goes.”
I took a moment to study her. I could see the resemblance to the king, now that I was looking for it. In her features, that narrow face and jutting nose had settled into something more harmonious. Perhaps that was the contribution of her disregarded mother. In all honesty, Angelique was a bit more to my taste than King Gervase. I still wouldn’t have been leaping with joy ifI’d been forced into an arranged marriage with her. But I might not have been quite so disgruntled about my fate.
She studied me right back, with a look that felt like it was piercing through every last one of my secrets.
Definitely more to my taste.
Oh, dear.
I lurched away, breaking our gaze, and pain shot through my foot again as my weight fell on it. It didn’t feel like an injury; more like a rock in my shoe. “Hold on for a second.”
When I slipped the shoe off my foot and upended it, a pea rolled out. I brushed at my clothes, and a few more peas escaped from where they’d hidden in the folds and pleats of my skirt, dropping to the floor with faint, dull tinks. I’d probably be shedding them for days.
I sighed. “Wonderful. If any of these end up in my mattress, it’ll keep me awake all night.” And I’d so been looking forward to a comfortable bed.
“Really?” Angelique tilted her head, intrigued.
I nodded. “Sensitive skin.”
“What a remarkable coincidence—it’s the same for me. Any lump in the bedding might as well be a boulder.”
“What were the peas for, anyway?”
My shoe back on, we made our way through the passage. The noises of a castle drifting from afternoon to evening echoed through the hall: the rhythmic clank of a blacksmith pounding on an anvil, the baying of dogs longing to be released from their kennel, a snatch of drunken song.
“The peas are another of the lion’s strange notions,” Angelique said as she ushered me through an archway. “He has some kind of fixation on the king’s huntsmen. I’m not clear on the details, but he’s convinced they’re hiding something.”
“I can’t think what gave it away. The masks, perhaps?”
Angelique chuckled. “Nothing gets past our lion. Anyway, he’s been devising tests to prove his claims.”
“And the peas were supposed to show…?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
