I wouldn’t dwell further on it. Not now.
“Please take the makeup off of me,” I said. “It’s making my face itch.”
The tournament grounds sprawled beyond the castle walls, a sea of colored pavilions rippling in the breeze. The royal box commanded the best view, draped in crimson and raised high enough that I could survey the list field and the crowd below. A new circlet sat atop my head, lighter than the coronation piece but more substantial than the one I’d been given as princess. It served as a reminder that I was no longer merely watching; I was presiding.
Adelaide swept into the box in downplayed finery. Her step was lighter, no longer burdened by the duties of a Dowager Queen. Now she was only a mother, and her smile when she looked upon me was almost unrestrained. “I was hoping we might watch together, Your Majesty.”
I couldn’t risk responding aloud, and Adelaide was one of the few in my circle who hadn’t bothered with sign language. She did as she wished anyway, settling into the seat on my right…the place of honor that should have been Nicolas’. Dierdre took position behind Adelaide’s chair just as Florence stood behind mine, the two ladies-in-waiting regarding each other with wary courtesy. Winnie might have joined us, but I’d already told her to enjoy the tournament with Duke Minnick. I hadn’t yet located her head in the crowd.
When Nicolas arrived moments later, Quinn at his shoulder, both men registered the arrangement with visible disgruntlement. The king had no choice but to take the seat on my left without comment.
I placed my hand atop his, but he still seemed distant.
Had I done something wrong? I stretched my thoughts to try and remember if I’d upset him. Nothing came to mind, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a minute error of cultural judgment.
Quinn positioned himself behind Nicolas’ chair, close enough to murmur counsel but deliberately angled so he wouldn’t have to look at me. He kept his eyes fixed on the tournament field as though I didn’t exist.
I scanned the noble galleries below, at last spotting Winnie’s familiar profile beside the Duke of Greene. She sat with perfect posture, every inch the duchess if the duke would hurry up and ask. She must have felt my gaze, as she glanced up briefly, offering the smallest smile before returning her attention to the duke.
“The finest knights have come from all over.” Adelaide arranged her skirts, leaning close to me as she spoke. “All of them wish to earn the title of Queensguard.”
Queensguard.An official protector, trained and sworn, would soon replace the arrangement between Quinn and me. He wasn’t a knight; he’d never been formally trained as such, nor as a guard. He was only a viscount who happened to have a natural talent for violence when it was necessary. Now that time had ended in a fissure, and after today, I would never again see him posted outside my chamber door. A sad thought, one that required immediate distraction.
“Did you have one?” I asked quietly, hoping the noise from the audience would muffle me to anyone else. “I have only ever seen Dierdre close at hand.”
Adelaide smiled. “I did, for a time. Sieur Domenic of Hadria. A man of such quality that there was no replacing him when he met his end.”
“How did he go?”
“An arrow.” Eerily enough, her expression did not yield to the bittersweet memory of an old friend’s demise, though the coldness in her voice hinted at a wealth of buried emotion. “It was meant for me, and he took it. He killed the bastard who tried to harm me,and then he died in my arms.” She paused deliberately. “That is the sort of man you’ll want to look out for today.”
Beneath my hand, Nicolas shifted. He’d entered a glowering state, eyes on the field like he was surveying enemy troops. Jealousy, perhaps, of another man watching over his wife. At least he knew Quinn, trusted him.
Fat lot of good that was.
“Loyalty is a curious concept,” said Adelaide. “Men prove their worth as our protectors by dueling it out in a tourney, but when assessing a woman’s loyalty, a queen must observe elsewhere: does she talk too much? Where do her true interests lie?” Her gaze fell on Winnie. “Most women are little more than opportunists. They use rumors and hearsay as rungs on a ladder. The same will be said of you, for time to come.”
I frowned, both at the prospect of Winnie’s unfair grouping into that category of person, and of my own.
“But I know you’re more than a fortune-seeker. A scavenger would try to fit in and please everyone, to get others on her side through kindness or humor. She would make herself small enough that others would not notice her clawing her way up the ranks… But you? You were terrified to be here, and quiet as a mouse, but gods, you were never small.”
My expression tightened. I wasn’t sure how to interpret that compliment, and simply ruminated on it while the knights rode out in demonstration, waving flags from the regions of Gallae and Hadria and wherever else they’d poured in from.
“Rats will come from all corners now. Twenty-two years ago, when I birthed Nicolas, I started noticing a difference in treatment from the other women.”
Twenty-two, I thought. It was odd to be so intimate with someone and not know his age. I did the math.He’s only three years older than me.
“They tore each other apart before me, hoping to weaponize their knowledge to secure a heightened position. I let them tear. Eventually, only the quiet ones stood out to me as women of value. That was when Dierdre became my only lady-in-waiting.”
“Not all venomous serpents rattle their tails before they bite,” I replied.
Adelaide’s brow raised with interest. “A fascinating quip that only a quiet, observant woman would think to make.”
One of the knights broke free from the procession, trotting his horse toward us and stopping at the base of the stands. He removed his helmet, unveiling a sweat-dampened mane of copper and eyes so blue they were visible at a distance. From below, he met my gaze and held it.
“Your Majesty.” His accent was strange, spoken through a deep voice that rattled through the grounds of the royal box. “I am Sieur Bastian of Dreden. I’ve crossed mountains and oceans for the honor of this tournament.” He paused, flashing a brilliant smile. “I would consider it a blessing beyond measure if you would grant me your favor.”
Murmurs rang through the gallery. Adelaide gripped the armrests of her seat and leaned forward. “A favor is won, Sieur Bastian, not given freely.”
