Page 13 of Queen of Legends and Lies
The dowager queen hums softly as she picks up a watering can and spritzes the plants.
As I approach her, guilt fills me for interrupting her peaceful moment with such terrible news. “Good morning, Queen Alannah. Could I have a few minutes of your time?”
She raises her head, squints in my direction, puts down her watering can, and wipes her hands on the apron that protects her pale blue dress. A soft smile graces her wrinkled face until she catches the gravity in my gaze.
“Lark, dear, what news do you bring?” Her voice quivers as if she’s already bracing for the impact.
Even though her maids already seem to be aware of my change in station with Sterling no longer here, no one has told the queen yet. They left that to me.
Awesome.
I draw a deep breath, my chest tight. “Knox is…still not with us. I wasn’t able to free him of the corruption or bring him home.”
Her hands falter, a small gasp escaping her lips as her eyes dim. “Oh.”
The flowers she was just admiring droop, as though they, too, suffer under the weight of her heartbreak.
But I can’t let despair have the final word. “Wait, there’s more.” I rush to add something, anything, to lend her a bit of hope. My mind jumps to the dream, and my mouth moves before my brain can stop it. “Last night, something happened. I summoned him, or maybe he summoned me. I’m really not sure.”
“Summoned him? What do you mean?” Alannah blinks, the creases in her white brows mirroring the tangle of emotions I’m trying to sort out myself as she processes the information. “He’s not lost then?”
“Still conscious, still alive. Deep inside, he’s still Knox.” The image of his presence from last night shines vividly in my mind. “We’re connected somehow. Maybe it’s my empathy, or our bond. I don’t know, but it’s real.”
“Empathy…” She brushes her hands on her apron while musing over the concept. “You’ve given me hope, Lark. To know he’s still fighting, still himself inside. Did he say anything?”
“Not much. He doesn’t seem to be very aware of what’s happening. It’s like his subconscious is protecting him from reality.” I’m intentionally vague because dream or not, there’s no way in the three hells I’m going to tell the queen what I was doing with her son. “Knox was being careful. He was afraidXenon or Narc might be eavesdropping. That if he learned something from me, they’d sense it through the corruption holding him captive.”
Her lips tighten. “If you didn’t really talk, then what did you do?”
Ziva’s flames, she went there.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek, a futile attempt to stop the blush I can feel creeping up my neck. “We, um, connected.”
Alannah searches my face, and a twinkle shines in her eyes. “Ah. I see.” I’m certain her soft laugh turns my face a blazing shade of red. “Good girl.”
Did the dowager queen just call me a “good girl” for having hot, sensual, intimate dream sex with her son? Dear gods. Yes. Yes, she did.
I half cough, half choke just trying to breathe. It’s all I can do not to bury myself under the foliage for cover. Time for a subject change.
Resisting the urge to fan myself, I clear my throat. “I’m going to bring him back to us.”
“I know.” Despite the situation, she stays calm and oddly peaceful.
Whether it’s because she has faith in my words or because she’s disconnecting from reality again, I can’t tell. She drifts toward a particularly striking plant, its vines adorned with velvet black petals streaked with bloodred.
I pace the length of the garden path, my boots leaving shallow prints in the soft earth. “I’ll go back to Flighthaven as soon as I can. Even though the council didn’t like the idea when I brought it up.”
“They don’t like many things. That’s their job.” Alannah’s voice is as dry as the rustle of leaves. And she’s right. “They nitpick and fuss over every little detail because that’s what they do best. You must doyourjob. You are going to be queen.”
“Queen.” I repeat the word like it’s foreign on my tongue, a title heavy with a burden I’m still learning to carry.
Alannah has moved on to another plant, bending close to inspect its leaves with a scrutiny that suggests her mind has wandered off somewhere else entirely. “Do you think these are mites?”
I close my eyes for a moment, summoning patience from somewhere deep within. “I’m not really a plant person.”
“Of course not, dear. You’re like a dragon.” She gifts me with a soft smile, and for a moment I see Sterling in her face. “How is fire going to grow such delicate plants?”
Her words match my humbling thoughts. I shuffle my feet, struggling with the morning’s revelations. “I’ve bothered you long enough. I’ll let you get back to tending the plants.”
