Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
The guards herd the Nobles—who are as reluctant to leave a fresh source of gossip as a flock of vultures would be to leave a stinking pile of carrion—out into the broad stone corridor. They shut the door to the Queen’s private parlor at last, leaving just the Queen, Dorian, a few of her private guards, and me behind. At a word from the Queen, the Executioner stays also, though he withdraws into the corner of the room.
“Now then—before anyone says anything, let’s see the truth of this matter. Guards!” the Queen calls. One of her private guards rushes forward and she whispers in his ear. He nods and hurries off.
A moment later he returns bearing an elaborately carved box made of fragrant balsam wood. He kneels beside the Queen and offers it to her.
“Just hold it for me,” she snaps. Then she turns to the Crown Prince. “Key,” she barks, holding out her hand.
“No.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his gold silk waistcoat bunching up with the gesture.
“Dorian, give me the key or I’ll have the Executioner open the box with his hatchet!” She speaks in a low, tense voice.
“Fine!”
With swift, angry gestures, the Crown Prince yanks a long golden chain from around his neck. Hanging from it is a tiny, jeweled key. He starts to open the box himself, but the Queen shakes her head.
“No, give me the key. I won’t ask again.”
He flings the key at her feet—a gesture I’m sure would have gotten anyone else beheaded. But she only frowns at him as she motions and the guard picks up the key. He fits it to the lock and opens the jewelry box, which begins to play a soft, tinkling melody.
There are plenty of fabulous jewels in the box and by the way the Queen’s mouth gets even tighter, I can tell that some of them are hers. And sure enough, lying right on top of the pile, is her favorite ruby pendant.
She picks silently through the box, taking the pendant along with some other pieces. She hands the lot to a different guard with murmured instructions to take them to her rooms and something else I can’t hear. Then she nods coolly at Prince Dorian.
“You are dismissed. Go back to your rooms and think about what you’ve done.”
With an angry glare, he flounces off, slamming the parlor door behind him.
I turn to go as well thinking that surely this incident must be over, but the Queen calls me back.
“Princess Elaina, come here,” she says and points to the spot in front of her. “Let’s have a little conversation.”
I come reluctantly back. I have a feeling this can’t be good.
As it turns out, I’m right.
14
ELAINA
“You embarrassed my son—your husband—in front of the entire Court,” the Queen snaps, glaring at me. “And all to save a lowly maid who’s lower than dirt!”
“I asked if I could speak privately to you,” I point out. “I didn’t want to say it in front of the Court, but I couldn’t watch an innocent girl lose her hand when I could stop it!”
“Yes, you could and you should,” the Queen snarls. “How dare you expose the Royal family to ridicule?”
I’m about to try and defend myself, when her face changes. The rage smoothes abruptly away and she cocks her head at me.
“Enough about my youngest son, for now,” she says to me. “How are you getting on with my eldest son? You’ve been sleeping in his rooms—has he been bedding you regularly?”
I feel as though all the blood in my body has drained away. What do I do? Do I lie right to her face to buy a little more time? Eventually she’s going to find out.
“I…um…Prince Xaren and I are getting on very well,” I say at last.
“I didn’t ask how you were ‘getting on,’” she snaps. “I asked if he’s bedded you yet!”
“I…he…yes,” I say at last, though the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Yes, of course.”
“I see.” She arches an eyebrow. “Well, that’s very good news. Then I should have a grandchild soon. An heir with a Drake indwelling him.”
“I’m sure…sure you will,” I say. My voice is not quite steady—I wish I could lie more convincingly.
Before I can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door and the Court Physician pokes his head in, his long beard wagging.
“You called for me, Your Majesty?” he asks, squinting at her.
“Yes. I’d like you to check and see if the Princess is still intact,” she says as he comes into the parlor.
“What?” I exclaim. “But I just told you—”
“You told me that my oldest son has been bedding you regularly. I’m sure you won’t mind if I check to have that verified,” she snaps.
The Court Physician widens his eyes in surprise at her request.
“The Princess still intact? But how, Your Majesty? She’s been married for over a week now!”