Page 48 of The Queen and the Half-blood
Heat rolled over her. “Aye.”
His gaze flicked to where her right hand clenched around her left bicep, his brow furrowing. Stiffening, Lara glanced down. He was staring at her father’s ring, theOrd-ree Seal.She was about to ask him why, when his attention snapped up to her face once more.
“When did you send your emissaries north?”
“Just over half a moon’s turn ago.” Worry clutched at her belly then. Time was marching on.
“Aye, well, they should have sent word by now.” His dark brows drew together over the bridge of his nose. “You do realize they’re likely all dead?”
Her heart kicked against her ribs, although she covered up her response with a scowl. “You don’t know that.” She steppedabruptly back from him. “This conversation is over, Alar. When we discuss this again, it will be with my council present.”
Lara climbed the stairs to her quarters, quietly simmering.
Her exchange with the Half-blood upon the walls had left a sour taste in her mouth. His revelations about his past had been unnerving, and his reaction to her sending an envoy to the Circines angered her.
He had no right to question her decisions.
Not yet … but he will soon.
Dread clutched at her as she pushed aside the curtain to her alcove and strode inside. This evening hadn’t gone well from start to finish. The two of them were locked in a duel. Her trick at supper had angered him, but his behavior afterwards had riledher. Gods, was there any way out of this marriage?
Her attendants were all in here already, preparing the alcove and sleeping nook for their queen’s arrival. Mirren was putting another brick of peat on the fire, Florie was tidying the furs, and the twins were fussing over the pretty tunic Lara would wear for her handfasting the following day.
Lara halted, her throat constricting as she surveyed them.
This was the last night the four women would reside in this alcove with her. From tomorrow, only she and her husband would sleep in here. Her attendants would share a small alcove on the floor below.
Dizziness swept over her then.
She’d be alone … withhim.
“Would you like a cup of wine, My Queen?” Mirren asked, straightening up from her task.
“Aye,” Lara said huskily, “but pour a cup for yourself, Florie, Ani, and Lilith, as well.”
Mirren stilled. “My Queen?”
“Go on.” Lara moved over to one of the high-backed chairs flanking the hearth and sat down heavily. “Things will be different from tomorrow … I’d like to remember what it was like to spend the evening with you all.”
Mirren still looked surprised by the command, but heeded it, nonetheless.
A short while later, they’d pulled up stools and sat near their queen, sipping at their wines.
The red-haired twins, Ani and Lilith, both perched nervously, thin fingers clasped around their cups, while Florie wore a stunned expression. It wasn’t customary for servants to eat or drink with the ruling class—but Lara had no patience for such things tonight.
None of her family were alive to chide her for it.
She attempted to draw the twins into conversation, yet they were too shy to answer with any more than one-word responses, and Florie was too awed to engage. Only Mirren managed—as always.
Eventually, Lara gave up trying to chat with them—it seemed the gulf between their ranks couldn’t be breached, after all—and let them get on with their evening chores. The twins rushed off, relieved, to fetch her hot water and drying clothes, while Florie took the dirtied cups and empty ewer down to the kitchen. She’d bring back a fresh jug of sweet plum wine.
Lara intended to have a few swigs of it before her handfasting ceremony. Anything to get her through it.
Seated alone with Mirren, Lara sifted through her jewelry box, trying to decide on what earrings, torque, and arm rings to wear to the ceremony. It was difficult to concentrate on her task, for such details seemed trivial. She then picked up a golden torque engraved with ferns, a lovely neck decoration that had belonged to her mother. Holding it up to the light,she remembered how beautiful the queen consort had looked wearing it.
She hadn’t worn the torque since her mother’s death. Maybe now was the time.
“The golden arm rings would go well with that … and they’d both look good with the woad-blue of your tunic,” Mirren suggested.
