Page 100 of The Mad King and the False Queen

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. Martine opened the door, and Madame Annette stood in the threshold.

“Princess,” Annette said, her face in a scowl. “The king would like to see you in his royal chambers.”

His royal chambers? Dagmara thought that she wouldn’t be allowed to set foot inside until she was queen. Was this her opportunity?

She followed Annette through the castle. It was nearly the middle of the night, and all the guests had vacated the premises. She heard Martine trailing them, a few paces behind.

“Sabien tells me you were able to predict Claude’s episode,” Annette said. “How is that?”

“Sabien is mistaken,” Dagmara replied curtly.

“Martine was there, weren’t you?” Annette glanced over her shoulder.

Dagmara’s blood turned to ice.

“All I remember is the king going into one of his episodes. The Princess was speaking to Reon at the time,” Martine said.

Dagmara let out a sigh of relief, while Annette scoffed. Dagmara flashed a glance over her shoulder, silently thanking Martine. Her guard nodded, a suspicious yet sympathetic smile on her face.

They walked through the entrance of the royal chamber, once again surrounded by dozens of mirrors. Due to the night, it was darker in the room, making it feel even more daunting. Annette knew exactly where she was going, leading her through the mirrors and up a large staircase to a door inlaid with silver streaks.

She knocked before Dagmara could, and they all heard the faint, “Come in,” from the king.

Steeling herself, Dagmara entered.

The royal bedchamber was expansive, with a study on one side of the room and a large, canopied bed on the opposite side. It was nearly pitch black aside from the moonlight streaming in through floor-length windows, hindering Dagmara’s ability to examine every inch of the room.

The king stood by one of the large windows, his figure silhouetted by the moonlight.

“I’m surprised you didn’t deny my request again,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Perhaps you can come to me next time,” she offered, trying to keep her tone even. Her gaze wandered across the desk, seeing stacks of paper. She couldn’t read anything from this distance. In the shadows, she caught sight of a blank canvas.

“You were very bold today,” Claude said, his back still to Dagmara.

“Thank you.”

“I never said it was a compliment.”

“You never said it wasn’t a compliment either.”

The king shifted, turning over his shoulder to face her. His face was barely lit by the moonlight, but she could clearly see the weariness of his eyes. The silk robe was untied in the front, revealing his rippling muscles that disappeared beneath the trousers that sat low on his waistline. He held a goblet, decorated in gemstones.

“You’re insufferable,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” From her recollection, all she did this evening was support him. She had even tried to prevent Reon from seeing his outburst.

“You overstepped,” he stated.

“I was trying to help you. It’s a good thing I arrived when I did.”

“I’m not talking about the events in the study. I’m not going to even ask why you followed me,” Claude said. “I’m talking about the rest of the evening. You thought you had authority to make claims today about my kingdom. Ilusauri is still mine, and how I decide to rule is my decision.”

“I made no remarks about the way you rule, and never claimed Ilusauri was mine. You were the one who announced that Azurem and Ilusauri would be united, and you were the one who suggested that we put on a show,” Dagmara said. “The entire night I was only trying to support you.”

“You told Lionel I would personally visit the nearby villages.”

She paused. The governor who asked about the rations?

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