Page 52 of Her Dark Reflection

At that moment, a man in a black scholar’s cap turned around the corner to the nook we were occupying, his nose almost pressed against the page of his book. Looking up, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the two of us staring at him. He blinked owlishly behind his spectacles, before snapping his book shut and storming back in the other direction, muttering that women had no place in a library.

‘Maybe he wants this table,’ Gwinellyn said, rising to her feet.

I stared at her in disbelief. ‘Gwinellyn,’ I said slowly, ‘you are heir to the throne of this country, and I am queen consort. Why in the name of the seven are you giving up your seat?’

She slowly sat back down and clasped her hands together in her lap. I continued to stare at her, baffled by her slumped shoulders, her downturned eyes, the time-damnedtimidityof her. I remembered what Senafae had said that day in the infirmary.She’s mad… Falls to the floor, frothing at the mouth.‘So,’ I began after a short silence, ‘you have fits.’

Her cheeks coloured. ‘Sometimes.’

‘You’re worried you’ll have one in front of everyone.’

She didn’t reply and instead curled more rigorously at the page, until she seemed to catch herself and suddenly started trying to smooth the curl out.

‘I tell you what,’ I said as I watched her, ‘I’ll make you a promise.’

Her hand stilled and she looked up at me with her wide blue eyes. ‘A promise?’

‘If you have a fit, I will do something so scandalous that everyone will be looking at me instead of you.’

A spectre of a smile pulled at her mouth. ‘Like what?’

‘Dance on a table?’ I suggested. ‘Kiss the Grand Paptich?’

Now she really was smiling. ‘I can’t imagine anyone kissing the Grand Paptich.’

‘Iknow.Imagine how the court would gossip aboutthat.But if he isn’t nearby, I’ll think of something else outrageous, and no one will give a fig for your fit.’The humour in her face dimmed. Aether’s teeth, couldn’t the girl lighten up for more than a few moments?

‘Father wouldn’t like that,’ she said. ‘He hates bad attention being drawn to the crown.’

‘Gwinellyn.’ The voice cut harshly into our little pocket of privacy. At the end of the aisle of books a squat, red-faced man was hurrying towards us. He was dressed fashionably, in an embroidered gilet trimmed with glass stones and blue sequins, and his gaze was fixed on the princess. He pulled up before us and offered me a stiff bow festooned with a scowl of disapproval, before returning his attention to Gwinellyn. He flung his hands theatrically into the air. ‘You cannot keep avoiding your rehearsals.’

I studied the man as he began admonishing the ever-shrinking girl before him, dredging what I knew about him from my memory. He’d been presented to me, but he was one of many, and I couldn’t possibly be expected to keep them all straight in my head. Croccus? Bronnius? Some high lord of the southern vales. He was listing tasks off on his fingers, and I began to gather that he was involved in organising the very ball we had just been speaking off.

‘I’m sorry,’ the princess mumbled, looking as though she had halved in size as she cowered in her seat. ‘I know I have disappointed you.’

‘Ten minutes,’ he said in a tone that suggested he was talking to a scullery maid. ‘Your tutor is already waiting for you, so that’s all the time I’m giving you before I go to the king.’

‘No!’ Gwinellyn cried, suddenly animated. ‘Oh, please, don’t go to my father. I’ll go to the hall now.’

He replied with a grunt, before repeating ‘ten minutes,’ offering me a curt nod, then storming back the way he’d come. I should have pulled him up on his lack of curtesy towards me, but I wanted to know who I was fighting before I picked a battle.

‘Why did you let him speak to you like that?’ I asked as I watched him round the end of the aisle, still muttering to himself.

‘He’s Lord Boccius.’ She was staring at her hands, the colour high in her cheeks. ‘My cousin.’

‘Really?’ I raised my eyebrows as I sought any family resemblance. ‘That’s no excuse. You should have him punished for his insolence.’

‘He isn’t always like that. He is… unhappy right now.’ She glanced up from beneath her lashes.

‘Why?’

‘I shouldn’t…’

I smiled warmly. ‘But we are friends. I won’t tell anyone.’

She returned my smile hesitantly. ‘Well… he is married.’

‘A blight on all humanity.’

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