51
Mareleau hadn’t been at the newly erected campsite for more than an hour when she decided she already hated camping. The location was charming, she supposed. She hadn’t paid much attention to the scenery on the brief journey here, but now that she’d arrived at her destination, there was little else to do. The wide meadow dotted with bright wildflowers was so lovely, it almost seemed like it had come from a painting. Mountains loomed behind her while a short cliff surrounded by lush forest stood at the other side. The sun was high in the sky, the afternoon warm, but that was where the charm of this supposed hunting expedition ended.
Half of the beautiful meadow and the flowers within it were now crushed by an array of pavilions set up throughout it, leaving only a small area left to wander through. And it was too damn hot for that. Which meant all she could do was sit under the open-air tent that served as a makeshift parlor with her ladies and try not to lose her mind.
Just a few more days, then Larylis will be here, she reminded herself.Just a few more days after that, and I get to go home with him.
Mareleau sank deeper into the cushions of the divan she reclined on, grateful she had no one to put on airs for. There were no courtiers in attendance, only servants, and the men were in their own tent at the other side of the meadow, preparing for their hunt. Breah, Ann, and Sera lounged in chairs around her, gossiping with the same ease they always did. How were her ladies so adaptable, regardless of circumstance? Did none of them miss Selay? Verlot Palace? Did none of them yearn for the stability of their new home at Dermaine Palace like she did?
Instead of voicing any of her questions aloud, she filled her mouth with sweets. Reaching across the tea table, she plucked up a lemon cookie and a piece of candied ginger from a porcelain plate. She chose one of each, less out of hunger and more out of boredom. Gods, she was miserable. There was even less to do here than there’d been at the castle. At least at Ridine she could wander alone and find some empty hall to cry in—something her emotions demanded on a whim these days—but here there was nowhere to go beyond this tent or the meadow. Unless she fancied a trip into the woods where she could get eaten by bears, mosquitoes, or both.
At least no one expected her to attend the hunt itself. Teryn, her uncles, and King Dimetreus would depart for the day’s adventure any time now. Mareleau cast a glance toward the men’s pavilion, and saw only silhouettes as they lounged, drank, and laughed. Around them, servants gathered supplies and readied horses. She was surprised King Dimetreus was here, considering what Cora had said. Dimetreus was technically no longer king. But of course, to abdicate his position, he’d need his sister to take his place.
A sister who was eerily absent.
Mareleau hadn’t caught a single glimpse of Cora the last few days, much to her growing dread. Whenever she’d asked Teryn about her whereabouts, he’d insist she was under severe protection and wouldn’t publicly show herself until after the peace pact was signed. It made sense, she supposed. If Cora was now queen, she’d need far more protection than when she’d been a princess. But this seemed excessive. Especially considering just how little anyone regarded Mareleau’s safety, and she’d been queen for nearly three weeks longer than her new friend.
Breah shifted in her seat and turned toward Mareleau with a wide grin. “Are you comfortable, Majesty? Do you need more tea? More pillows?”
Well, at leastsomeonepaid attention to her well-being.
Before she could answer, Sera leaped from her seat and began pouring a fresh cup anyway. “You must stay hydrated in this heat. And eat as many sweets as you like.” She shoved the plate of cookies a little closer.
Breah scowled at Sera, but the other girl paid her no heed.
Sera batted her lashes. “What else do you need, Majesty?”
Ever since Cora had taken up confinement, Sera had returned to Mareleau’s side. It seemed the girl was now desperate to prove she was indispensable. Her efforts, though, bordered on annoying more often than not.
Ann, not wanting to be left out of whatever competition was brewing amongst the queen’s ladies, stood from her chair. “How about a bath, Majesty? I saw a tub in one of the wagons. I can boil water for you and scent it with oils. Oh, and wildflowers from the meadow!”
Mareleau didn’t want to encourage their petty rivalries, but seven gods, a bath sounded divine. She already felt filthy after this morning’s journey, not to mention the sweat caused by the afternoon sun blazing through the open sides of the tent. Additionally, a bath meant privacy. Time alone. Some semblance of peace and purpose in her boredom.
“Very well,” she said to Ann, which earned the girl dark glowers from both Breah and Sera, “you may draw me a bath.”
Larylis wasnothing more than raw nerves dressed in human flesh as he rode through the forest toward his destination. A page in Lord Kevan’s livery led the way, guiding him from Ridine Castle to some undisclosed location in the woods nearby. Apparently, the signing of the peace pact would take place on a royal hunt. Thankfully Larylis wasn’t alone, otherwise his imagination might have carried him away to the worst possible scenario. However, it wasn’t Lord Hardingham at his side, calming him down with cool logic; it was King Verdian.
Verdian had been the last person Larylis had wanted to meet on the road, but two days ago, Larylis’ small entourage had caught up with Verdian’s much larger one. Larylis had no choice but to tell his father-in-law of Cora’s strange letter to explain why he’d left his retinue. He’d expected a barrage of insults at having acted so recklessly, and Verdian certainly had a few choice words to say, but after reading Cora’s fading letter a time or two more, the king had calmed down. He’d still insisted the letter was simply the result of a lovers’ quarrel, but his subsequent actions had belied his confident words. Like Larylis had done, Verdian had selected a small group to ride with haste to Ridine.
Thus, Larylis earned his unwanted companion.
He had to admit the king steadied his nerves somewhat. He hoped with all his heart that Verdian was right—that Cora’s letter was the culmination of a simple quarrel and nothing more.
“We’re here,” the young page said, guiding their party into a wide clearing. A sunlit meadow stretched ahead, filled with several pavilions. At the edge of the meadow, a group of men on horseback entered the woods. Larylis thought he could make out the figures of King Dimetreus and Lord Kevan. Closer, another group mounted their horses. Lord Ulrich was amongst them, and…was that Teryn?
Larylis hadn’t recognized his brother first, for his back had been facing them. But now that Teryn turned, Larylis saw his face beneath a tricorn hat. Larylis frowned. Since when did Teryn wear tricorns on a hunt? He didn’t think he’d ever seen his brother don a hat.
Teryn tugged his horse’s reins and faced the approaching party. “Brother. King Verdian. I’m glad to see you’ve arrived early. We were just about to depart for the day’s hunt. Will you be joining us?”
Larylis frowned. That was Teryn’s voice, but his tone was too formal. The hat cast Teryn’s face in shadow, but Larylis was almost certain his cheeks appeared thinner. Paler.
Verdian said nothing to Teryn and rode straight for Ulrich. Larylis watched as the brothers spoke in hushed tones, their horses side by side. There was something smug about Ulrich’s countenance, and he gave only short answers to Verdian’s questions, most of which were too quiet for Larylis to hear.
He forced his attention back to Teryn, who remained seated on his horse. Keeping his voice casual, he said, “Are you well, brother?”
“Quite. And you? How were your travels?”
He was too polite. Too stiff. He was acting different, but that didn’t suggest anything outright sinister. “We met no trouble on the road. Where is Princess Aveline?”
