Page 26 of Knightfall
“Was a mistake. I’ll do better.” I pulled her even closer. “I’ll do better. And I’ll help you. Train you and protect you. So that you’ll be ready.”
At that last, she let out a sob. “I don’t want to be ready.” She clutched at me.
“Sweet girl, I hope you never need to be.” But she would. Because my father’s fate was to be my fate. And today only proved that four years of control could be wiped away in a single instant.
I let her cry until she had no more tears. And I held back my own. Because this was about her. I held her and let my hopes of a quick solution and quick escape go. Instead I focused on how I’d felt when I was her age. A teenager, unsure of everything, too scared to test my mother, intimidated by the world and its expectations of me. At least I’d had Connor then. A companion to lighten the journey. I’d left this poor sweet girl alone with the burden of a kingdom on her shoulders. And four headstrong men who’d clearly not taken the time to reassure her.
They’d be hearing about that tomorrow.
My little Squack drifted off to sleep and I started to join her. But as I stared at the flames in her fireplace, strange thoughts entered my head. I imagined it was Quinn next to me, not my sister. I imagined that I was surrounded by his arms and that his soft breath fluttered like a feather against the skin of my neck. I imagined safety and warmth and companionship. I imagined him whispering, “It’s all right, Dove. I’ll protect you.”
I closed my eyes. Clearly, the blood loss was making me delusional. I curled up and pushed the hallucinations and my worries away as sleep overtook me.
Chapter Eight
The sun and the maids rudely awakened me. After my injury, I’d have loved a lazy day under the covers. But queens do not rest, my mother always said.
So, just after dawn I was up and prodded and poked until I was fitted into a red brocade gown with a high neck and told that a morning tea for the nobility had been planned to welcome me home.
Of course, Her Majesty summoned Connor and I to her rooms for a briefing before that. We had to have our story straight, after all.
Connor appeared in Avia’s doorway just as my hair was fitted into a silver tiara. His dark brown curls were slightly messy, and I had to hold back the urge to fix them. He wore a light blue shirt that matched his eyes and offset his tan, and breeches that were form-fitting under his leather boots. In other words, he was the perfect picture. Everything I’d remembered and loved but grown up. With sexy stubble.
I gulped when I saw him. Every bone in my body ached to hug him.
But his eyes avoided mine and his lips thinned as he offered me his arm. He was cold and stiff as he escorted me to my mother’s chambers, though he smiled and nodded to everyone near us. He looked like my best friend but didn’t feel like him.
Maybe I’d deluded myself thinking the letters would be enough. They clearly hadn’t been. Though our arms touched, it felt like there was a wall between us.
I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong nearly a dozen times, but there was always a courtier or a servant or someone within earshot. I’d seen the slightest word turn into a whirlwind of gossip within the palace. And I didn’t want that. Not for him.
Instead, I also focused on those around us, giving little waves to the nobles and nods to the servants we passed on our way to the north wing. It felt wooden, and fake, when I wanted to flip off half the people I saw for how they treated their tenants.
Lady Aster shot her race horses rather than let them retire to the meadows or be used in the fields. She got a tight-lipped grin.
Countess Orunta and her husband group were known to raise taxes on mead so that they could build themselves luxury ships. She got a weak wrist wave.
A dozen times, I spotted open doors. I really wanted to yank Connor into a room and let him yell at me until we were alright again. But I’d have to curb the barroom brawling techniques I’d gathered these past four years. I was certain the incident with Ryan had already caused loads of gossip. I couldn’t let it get worse.
When we reached my mother’s rooms, Connor held open the door.
Inside, my mother and one of my fathers, Peter, sat together on the bed. He fed her breakfast. It was a sight that was endearing, but also a testament to how weak she truly was.
I lifted my chin. She’d never want acknowledgment of her weakness.
I waited as Peter lifted a cup of tea to her lips and helped her drink.
Declan’s mentor, Peter, was the most patient of my fathers. He’d always been the one to teach me things as a child, from math to archery. He’d never spoken a harsh word to me. Always carried a sweet in his pocket. He was a scholar and a softie.
After he dabbed at my mother’s lips with a napkin, she shooed him away, gathering her bright green dressing coat closer to her rail-thin body.
I broke form and ran to Peter and gave him a quick hug. He’d grown larger around the middle since I’d seen him. But his eyes were just as kind as I remembered. He hugged me back and placed a quick kiss on my forehead. “You’re in trouble, you know, Blossie.”
I nodded against his chest. “I know.”
“Your mother needs you. Evaness needs you. No more running.”
I nodded; I didn’t tell him I’d come to the same conclusion last night.
