“Why would you think that?”
“Just a suspicion. She implied she’s still queen here because her family will inherit if there’s no true heir to the throne.”
“Which will only happen if King Merrick dies without an heir, something we both agree must not happen.”
Did Lord Briscalar know I slept in my own bed?
“She . . .” I had to tell someone. “She implied King Theon might not be Merrick’s father.”
“Merrick is the very image of his King Theon. Yes, there are rumors that she and . . . How shall I say this?” He leaned close and his voice lowered, though we remained alone. “That she and the high advisor may have . . .” He pinched his eyes closed, opening them again and leaning back in his chair. “King Theon’s advisor was an honorable man. The queen mother . . . ”
“Lacks honor?”
“I would never say something like that.”
But I bet he’d think it.
Lord Briscalar’s mouth twisted with distaste. “What else did she say?”
“That’s about it.”
“I suggest you dismiss her from your mind. She’s jealous, but she’ll soon find her place within this court.”
I was beginning to doubt that.
He tapped his journal. “We still have much to discuss.”
I nibbled on another pastry, mostly paying attention to what he was saying but also analyzing every word she’d said. I didn’t come to any conclusions, however.
“Back to your coronation,” he said. “After everyone swears fealty—”
I placed the rest of my pastry on the plate. “What does that entail?”
“Lots of groveling.” His laugh rang out. “Bowing. As much as they should grovel, they won't. They'll bow to you and swear to defend you and the court with their lives, but watch them all.”
“For an attack?” Maybe I should bring my sword to the coronation.
“Never in front of everyone. If nothing else, we fae handle these matters in a more delicate manner.”
Yes, like with poison.
“After that, the king will escort you to dinner,” he said.
We discussed the food that would be served, and I approved all his suggestions.
“Seated beside the king, you will be the most stunning jewel in the court. King Merrick won't be able to take his eyes off you.” He ate the last of his pastry, washing the bite down with tea, before pouring us both more at my nod. “Then you'll change again, into a gown for the ball.”
“Design and color suggestions?”
His eyes gleamed with excitement. “For the ball, I suggest a deep green gown shot through with gold. It will complement your striking hair beautifully, and it holds significance within our court.”
Merrick's eye color and only now did I realize, Lore's as well, though his were a darker green.
“Are Lore and Merrick related?” I asked.
“An odd question. I believe they are, though it’s never been confirmed.”
Was that why his mother seemed so angry with Merrick’s father? Had he . . . Evergorne gleamed on the surface, but many secrets churned below the shiny façade. “Are they half-brothers?”
