I was trembling with adrenaline. Queen Elthra was lauded by the fan community as a favorite character, as ruthless as she was beautiful. I felt confident I could convince others to listen to me, but the queen was a wild card. I had no reason to think Sherry Whitehorse would want Elthra’s character dampened, but I had to figure out how to sway her where necessary.
Even beyond that, I had to find time to gather my thoughts and figure out what changes would have to be made to redo or rewrite the second author’s mistakes. Make it the series finale readers deserved. We were nearing the climax of the story, but I thought Sherry Whitehorse would have wanted to continue focus on the romantic relationships as equally as the adventure.
After the queen came the main members of her court. Though I knew the book descriptions of each character, the way I pictured them in my head was influenced by the actors in the show. I struggled to tick the court off as they walked by.
There was the lead of the guard, Sir Aaron Key who had a long scar running down his face, ending at a well-defined chin. Next was Lord Parable, who was easy enough—he was an old friend of the queen mother’s and liked to think he served the part of wise counselor. On his heels was the Master of Horse. Though not typically a core part of a royal entourage, the queen always kept the charming man close by, and I could see why. While his character had been cut from the TV show altogether, here he was the antithesis of the elderly Lord Parable. The Master of Horse moved with a certain grace and wore a woven doublet embroidered with a prancing horse, his wavy light brown hair half-pulled-up into a small bun, the rest spilling to his shoulders. He gave me a small smile as he passed, and I felt a thrill go through my abdomen.
Then came two women, arms woven through each other’s. The brown-skinned woman in the tiered blue gown was Ariana, the queen’s lady-in-waiting and childhood friend. She had dark lips, expressive eyes, and a thick black braid. She said something to the Caucasian woman that made her smile, both of them looking at me. That must be the queen’s sister, Issa. She had the same blanched blond hair. Though often out of sorts with the queen herself—they were both strong personalities—Issa remained a close confidante at turns throughout the story. Remnants of book five ran through my head and all the forums I’d read over the years. Readers wanted to see more of these two, and especially for them to get a satisfying ending, rather than be shunted aside as the ghostwriter had done. I’d have to consider their own character timelines—I knew a big change was coming for Issa, but I wasn’t exactly sure when. If I could get Ariana and Issa to like me, that would make influencing events much easier. I’d have some political protection too.
As soon as the thought came, I knew it was silly. If I couldn’t make friends in the real world, why would a queen’s closest confidantes want to help me here?
No, Sorrel wouldn’t want me to get stuck in that kind of thinking. I was assistant—no, apprentice, I suddenly decided—to the Witch of Mayfair. If I kept it up, everyone around court would be pulling strings for me.
My eyes widened at the last in the procession. It was the Solicitor, Ironclaw’s own cousin. I was eager enough to see him—he might know when Ironclaw would arrive at Castle Creneda—but the moment I saw the Solicitor, I realized how measured my expectation had been. The books often described the Solicitor as slight and weak of frame. I wondered why Sherry Whitehorse had done him dirty in the descriptions. Were the books the real thing, or was I seeing the real thing now? Either way, the Solicitor was much better-looking than the books had led me to believe. I felt his eyes move over my form, taking in every detail as I did the same. He didn’t have the physical strength of Ironclaw, that was clear, but he was also tall with the same long dark hair. His chin was slightly pointed and his cheekbones were high, giving him a haughty look. He wore a trim gray robe and a belt held a black sash in place. It was simple but made with excellent material.
As the book’s only gay man, perhaps Whitehorse hadn’t thought her female readers would want the details. Still, his political role was significant. He was always quick to speak with the queen’s allies and had more than enough enemies. The Solicitor was always looking for flaws, weaknesses in others that could be exploited.
I squared my shoulders.
Was that a smile?Was he laughing at me?
Then he was a step ahead and I couldn’t make out his face any longer. The Solicitor was a sidekick of sorts to Ironclaw but for all his involvement in the court, he had little face time with the queen. I had better focus my efforts on Ariana and Issa.
Jerrald hissed at me, “Follow them.”
He was really tense about all this pomp and circumstance, but indeed, the rest of the crowd was watching me. I turned on one bootheel and followed quickly to cover my mistake. Too quickly. I bumped into the Solicitor.
He caught me by an elbow. “Well,” he said, “I was going to introduce myself soon enough but this will do. Where were those exquisite handkerchiefs from?”
“Oh, those?” I fought to keep my face still. “My aunt made them.”
“They look almost like varench lace from the Solce Lakes region.”
Okay, go with it.I had to appear as if I had nothing to hide. “Yes, that’s where my aunt lives.”
The Solicitor looked taken aback. “You grew up across the Seas of Melancholy and yet your aunt lives near the Solce Lakes?”
Drat. “Yes, um, fabulous love story.” There was nothing in the books about the Solce Lakes region, I was sure of it. “I never met my aunt. The Witch of Mayfair sent her to the Solce Lakes four years before I was born. Said she’d find the love of her life there.”
“How extraordinary,” he said carefully. The entire procession was winding down a stone hallway, a large painting of dogs hunting a stag on my right. Conversation hung thick among the hungry crowd, the hall noisy enough the Solicitor had to raise his voice. “And did you ever learn how this grand love story ended?”
I felt his skepticism and made sure he saw me raise my brows. “Why no, news from across the Seas of Melancholy would have been exceptional.” I was pretty sure he knew I was lying, but who could prove or disprove that?
“While you’re here advising our queen, you must make a visit to the Solce Lakes to find your aunt.”
The Solicitor’s eyes were green. I knew because I was staring like a mouse tranced by a snake. I shivered and looked away.
I muttered something noncommittal as we entered a room that was at least ten degrees warmer. I realized with surprise I was chilled through, the constant rush of adrenaline that afternoon taking its toll on me.
The space was expansive with long tables and benches arranged perpendicular to a head table at the back. Fireplaces dotted the walls and the rafters were black with years of soot. I looked for Jerrald but couldn’t find him among the crowd filtering in behind us.
“Lord Solicitor,” I whispered, “do you know where I sit?”
His olive eyes blinked, then he barked a laugh. “Lord Solicitor—I like that. Most people simply call me Lord Draw. Can I ask, how did you know I was a solicitor?”
“Someone mentioned it. Jerry, I think. Jerrald. The soldier who brought me in.”
Lord Draw fell quiet, and I looked around uneasily. Mostly everyone was settled except the people in plain clothes just coming through the door. “You can sit with me. Over here.”
