The queen’s lips curved. “And if they test our illusion?”
“Then we lose nothing but wood destined for scrap, and we gain insight on their plans.”
Prince Nicolas leaned back in his seat, folding his hands on his abdomen. “Clever.”
Queen Adelaide nodded and rose. “Let us adjourn. Captain Branning, you will see to the execution of the viscount’s plan.”
The captain’s jaw set firmly. “Consider it done.”
“Alana.”
I flinched at the sudden acknowledgement, craning my head to the queen.
“Walk with me.”
I joined her as she left the room. There was no sign of Dierdre this time.
“I sometimes order her to sit in and listen to other affairs that I cannot be present for,” Queen Adelaide said, reading my mind as I searched around. “Some family came down from Caermont requesting an audience. I told her to summarize their woes, and that I would handle them by nightfall. I cannot stand the way my cousins prattle on. How poor Dierdre suffers on my behalf.”
I smiled. “She suffers gladly. Dierdre is a loyal friend.”
“Yes.”
The queen went quiet as we passed a group of servants, briefly looking over their work as they cleaned the walls.
“The wedding shall be held at the Palace of Caermont. It is more fashionable,” she said softly. “I have already diverted a few guests there. No doubt my relatives have their sentiments regarding that decision, but Altaigne lacks the refinery necessary for a good show.”
“Does it?” I asked.
Queen Adelaide ignored the question. “Your role will change soon. You’ll be Queen Alana, and I shall step down to become an advisor. The leadership I train you for will soon be balanced with the trials of motherhood.”
The thought struck me like a bolt. Until now, I hadn’t put any thought into such expectations. It was monumental enough that I’d be expected to sleep with the prince—the king, by then—but to carry achild?
My throat tightened, and my stomach threatened to rise up through it. All around me, the walls lilted.
“I shall be grateful for your advice,” I managed, though my voice was hoarse. “And all the happier not to lose you to a warm island, a drink, and a pretty boy.”
The queen snorted, a sound rarer than gold. It gave me the necessary courage to make my next statement.
“I’ve never been less ready for anything in my life. To be queen, to be a wife, to have children?”
“Oh, but I see greatness in you, fair Alana,” said the queen. “You will undoubtedly face your share of hardship from your heritage, but I’ve been watching you. It will take no time at all for you to become a beloved queen.”
We went down a flight of stairs, the queen’s dress trailing long behind her. Ordinarily Dierdre would lift it for her, and I wasn’t sure whether to bend and assist, but Queen Adelaide insisted I keep astride for conversation’s sake.
“I always wished for a daughter.”
I turned. “Is that so?”
“After Nicolas, there were many times I struggled to conceive.” Her eyes were dark. “Perhaps the Duke of Greene was onto something. Maybe my blood is weakened from the very same pedigree others would shame you for lacking.”
I’d heard similar stories of my parents’ patients. I couldn’t begin to imagine the despair.
“Have that sorceress bless your womb,” the queen said, and I nearly leapt from my skin.
She knew?How long had she known? Did she know aboutme?It was too casual an acknowledgment of what could easily be a death sentence in other circumstances. I parted my lips to refute the statement, but was cut off before I could begin.
“Please. Florence was at Pontarena when I visited as a young woman, and she hasn’t aged.” Queen Adelaide’s lips quirked at the corner, then she continued. “Our court is no stranger to tragedy. Your friend, Lady Maeve of Sunhill, lost a child only a year before you came and hasn’t tried again since. A number of women have shared the same fate. And I…I rejected the offer to have my womb blessed when I married Elias. I was too mired in Gallaean tradition. If only I’d listened to him.”
