‘I’m on duty shortly, but if you need anything, you can send word to me via one of the servants.’
‘Send word toyou? Why not Harlan?’
His eyes searched hers. ‘You’ll struggle to find servants prepared to travel outside the castle walls to deliver messages to the barracks.’
She felt her cheeks heat. ‘Of course.’ When he turned to leave, she said, ‘I appreciate you popping by to welcome us.’
Those grey eyes bored into her a final time, and then he was striding away from them.
‘Ready?’ Kendra asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
Lyndal tore her gaze from Astin. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
Chapter 7
Kendra sat in one of the expensive chairs in the solar that connected the two bedchambers, occasionally touching a finger to the corner of her painted mouth. Lyndal, not used to being idle, paced the length of the room. Waiting around to be summoned by Queen Fayre was a special kind of torture for her. There was nothing to keep her busy in the meantime. Nothing to clean, no food to prepare or water to fetch.
No boars to wrestle.
‘Oh do sit down,’ Kendra said in a pained tone. ‘You are wearing a track in the rug.’
Lyndal stepped off the rug onto the hardwood floor and resumed pacing. A knock at the door made her stop and turn.
Kendra rose elegantly from her chair and went to open it. A young servant boy stood in the corridor.
‘Her Majesty Queen Fayre has requested your company in the garden terrace, my lady,’ he said.
Kendra nodded and looked back at Lyndal. ‘I believe we are ready to join her.’
The women followed the servant along the west corridor, down some stairs, and through a narrow door that opened to a large terrace. Lyndal paused when she stepped out, looking around at the trellis walkways and arbours, likely once used for shade. The garden beds were raised to prevent waterlogging. They were exploding with mature herbs and colourful plants. Exotic birds hung in cages along the castle wall—as trapped as she was. Immaculately trimmed hedges and wattle fences marked the perimeter.
‘Do come along,’ Kendra whispered over her shoulder.
Lyndal hurried forwards, spotting the queen alone by the fishpond in the middle of the terrace. A few yards past her, seven women were seated playing chess and talking among themselves.
‘Your Majesty,’ Kendra said as they neared the pond. She fell into a low curtsy, Queen Fayre’s inquisitive eyes following every movement. ‘What a lovely space this is. Was this your vision?’
Kendra was right at home in this setting, knowing exactly what to say. And Lyndal was happy to let her do the talking.
‘Actually, my vision had a lot more citrus trees and flowers in it,’ the queen mother replied. ‘However, we must all make do without those things for now.’ Her eyes went to Lyndal. ‘I am so pleased you decided to join your cousin. What do you think of my home?’
Lyndal looked around the terrace. ‘It’s enormous. I’m certain I’ll get lost—frequently.’
Fayre smiled.
‘And you’ve still managed to create a colourful space without citrus trees and flowers,’ Lyndal added, looking over her shoulder at the cages.
‘Are you fond of birds?’ the queen mother asked.
‘I’m fond of them flying in the sky. Not one for cages, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, I think they are a lovely feature,’ Kendra said.
Queen Fayre watched the birds for a moment. ‘I find their silence unsettling. However, the king is fond of them, so they remain. Imported all the way from Africa, I believe.’
That made Lyndal feel even more sorry for them. ‘What must birds born of heat and sun think of our frigid temperatures and constant rain?’
The queen mother’s eyes returned to her. ‘I am certain they think us mad for living here and cruel for forcing them to suffer alongside us.’
