“Right,” he said, closing his fist around the crystal and smothering it in the folds of his cravat. But when he looked back at his surroundings, all he saw was blinding white light.
28
Mareleau had never arranged a bouquet with her own hands, and as she assessed the sparse collection of greenery and wild poppies she’d picked from the castle lawn, she realized there was a very good reason for that. If she’d seen such a sad spectacle gracing the vases at Verlot Palace, she’d have insisted upon whoever had made it be fired at once. But this wasn’t Verlot. Nor was it the slightly more modest Dermaine. This was Ridine Castle, and the tiny bundle of drooping flowers was the brightest thing about it.
The bouquet sat in a cracked porcelain vase upon a small table. The table itself was nestled in a narrow courtyard surrounded by overgrown shrubs outside the kitchen. An array of half-melted candles lit the table’s surface, illuminating two sets of empty dishes. Soon the dishes would be ladled with food, and Mareleau’s mission on behalf of her brother-in-law would be complete. With the last vestiges of the sunset painting the sky from pink to indigo, the end result was rather charming, if she did say so herself.
Mareleau jumped at the loud clatter that carried through the open kitchen windows. All right, so the noise was less than charming, but the location was the best she could find. Inside the kitchen, dozens of cooks and servants bustled about in preparation for the king’s dinner. One she’d be expected to attend, same as she had every night she’d been here.
A pang of envy struck her as she glanced at the quaint dining area she’d arranged. While it wasn’t the most elegant of spaces, she regretted that she wouldn’t get to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Her gaze landed on the bottle of wine sitting beside two glasses. That was perhaps the most tempting part of the whole setup. Seven gods, she missed wine. She was so desperate for a sip, it made her sick to her stomach. Literally. Or…maybe the sudden nausea was more due to hunger. Regardless, she knew she couldn’t imbibe, for her ladies were watching, and they’d report back to her mother and father. Until her ruse was up, she needed to act like the epitome of the careful, pregnant queen. That way, when she confessed to the surprising return of her moon cycle, she’d be blameless. Her father would have to carry that guilt, for she was fully prepared to lament over the castle’s agonizingly chilly drafts and the musty air quality.
“It’s lovely, Your Majesty,” Breah said, coming up beside her.
Ann nodded in agreement. “You have a knack for creating elegance, Majesty.”
The girls were pandering to her, but Mareleau didn’t care. Despite her shoddy attempts at setting up a romantic meal, she couldn’t ignore the pride flaring in her chest. She’d never done anything like this before. Perhaps she could do it for Larylis when she returned home to him.
The thought warmed her heart, and a soft smile curled her lips. Before her longing could dip into sorrow, she adopted a flippant tone and said, “It beats picking out hideous linens with Master Arther. Come. Let us prepare for dinner.”
Sera released a groan. “I suppose I should fetch my lady from her horrible tower.”
Mareleau cut a glare at the girl. She was so used to Sera’s presence, she kept forgetting the girl was supposed to be serving the princess. “Sera, you should have readied her for dinner an hour ago.”
Sera shifted from foot to foot. “I…I figured you were more in need of assistance than she, Majesty.”
“Yes, well,sheis supposed to attend a romantic meal with my brother. You can’t have her looking like a pauper, for it will surely be the ruination of my efforts. Go get her cleaned up at once.”
Sera’s shoulders slumped, but she sank into an obedient curtsy before shuffling out of the courtyard and into the kitchen. Mareleau and her ladies followed just behind, turning toward the keep as they exited into the hall. She halted in place, glancing in the opposite direction to where Sera was heading for the North Tower Library stairwell. A strange feeling fluttered in her chest, and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. She wasn’t sure what to call it, but it might have been something akin to sympathy.
“The two of you go with her,” she said to Ann and Breah before she could stop herself.
Her maids stared back at her as if she’d lost her mind. And maybe she had.
Breah’s tone turned simpering. “Why, Majesty?”
“Sera will need your help to ready the princess with haste,” Mareleau said.
“Don’tyouneed our help?” Ann asked. “Surely you want to change into a new gown for dinner.”
“Why? Is there something wrong with how I look now?” She knew it was only habit that drove her maids to expect a change of clothes, but she needed them to stop their whining. “I can manage looking appropriate for dinner just fine. The princess, on the other hand, needs all the help she can get. I won’t have her making a mockery of all the hard work I did tonight. Now go. Follow after Sera and make certain the princess is presentable in the next half hour. Understand?”
The girls bobbed into curtsies before making their grudging departure. Meanwhile, Mareleau ascended the stairs to the keep. She had every intention of heading straight for her room, but when she passed the door she knew belonged to Teryn’s guest quarters, she paused.
Again, that irritating feeling fluttered in her chest. It was less about sympathy this time and more about…was it care? Pride? All she knew was that she wanted to brag to Teryn that tonight’s dinner was going to be fabulous, thanks to her. With her chin held high, she marched to his door and rapped on it with her gloved hand. The lamps illuminating the hall revealed several smudges of dirt on the white silk. She certainly wasn’t used to seeing that.
The door opened in a rush, tearing her from her thoughts. Teryn’s form stood on the other side of the doorway, but she could hardly separate him from the shadows. She frowned, wondering why he was in a dark room.
Some of her excitement waned, and she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. “You better not tell me you’ve been napping while I’ve been doing all the hard work for you, brother.”
“Brother,” he echoed, a hint of taunting in his tone.
She frowned. That hadn’t been the first time she’d used that word to his face, and he was the one who’d started it, calling hersister. Why did he sound so amused?
He stepped out of the doorway and into the light of the hall.
Mareleau’s eyes went wide as she noted the gash on his cheek, then the way he cradled his hand. A white cloth—his missing cravat, perhaps—was wrapped around it like a bandage.
“Teryn, what the seven devils happened to you?”
