Page 15 of The Queen's Crown
How Sabine had managed to live eighteen years without knowing or understanding any of this was beyond her.
The queen patted Sabine’s hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re rectifying it now. Are you ready for the next one?”
Sabine nodded.
Elsa then went on to describe a single, unique trait for each of the poisons. Sabine spent the next several hours with her mother, committing each one to memory.
The following days passed in a blur. The king insisted Sabine spend the mornings with her mother going over basic royal etiquette. Even though she hadn’t learned the duties of a queen in any formal capacity since she was the sixth born child, she watched her mother on a daily basis and knew what was expected of her. In the afternoons, she trained with Rolf learning simple self-defense moves along with how to wield a dagger. He taught her how to hold the weapon and what would happen if she had to stab someone with it. Hopefully it would never come to that.
Late at night when she climbed into bed, exhaustion consumed her. At least the physical toll from her daily work kept her mind focused on the tasks at hand. It helped keep her grief for Alina somewhat manageable. However, sometimes late at night, she’d wake up thinking about her sister. It was in those quiet hours that her thoughts turned to darker matters. Things like revenge would consume her.
Every so often she’d awake in a sweat. It was as if she could hear Alina’s screams, pleading with her killer to spare her. All the reports they’d received from their soldiers had agreed with the story the Lynk steward conveyed—that Alina had died in her sleep, poisoned by something. Sabine liked to think that her sister didn’t suffer. Her body had no signs of trauma. If it hadn’t been for the oddly colored drool running from the corner of her mouth to her neck, they never would have known she’d died from poison. Regardless, those were the days she’d wake up early, eager to begin her training.
On her last night at home, her family held a private farewell supper. The entire family came, even the children. Roasted turkey, boiled potatoes, and carrots were served. The servants baked bread with rosemary—Sabine’s favorite.
When they finished eating, the king leaned back in his chair and said, “You always were a wild child. You loved to chase after your brothers, swim in the nearby lake, and ride a horse like a boy. It’s about time you settle down.”
Sabine rolled her eyes. Growing up, her father had always been busy with Karl and Rolf while her mother entertained other ladies. No one had ever cared what she did so long as she didn’t get in the way or bother anyone.
Karl laughed. “I remember when I found you hiding under my bed one night because you didn’t want to go to sleep in your own room. You said something about the lightning bothering you. I had to drag you out of my room by your legs. You screamed and cursed at me.”
“You’ve always had a foul mouth,” Viktor said, chuckling.
“I do not,” Sabine said, horrified her brother had said something like that in front of their parents. She was going to have to smack him upside his head when they were alone.
“The first time I met you,” Jesamine said, “you were running through the castle and screaming about some boy. You had mud all over your boots and you were making such a mess. I think you were thirteen.”
Everyone laughed.
Sabine folded her arms, irritated that even Karl’s wife was ganging up on her.
“Remember when she didn’t want us to slaughter and eat that cow for the spring festival?” Otto asked.
Rolf laughed. “She tied herself to the cow thinking she could save it.”
“But she tied the knots so badly she couldn’t get them off,” Otto said. “When she got hungry, she was ready to slaughter the cow herself.”
“I remember the first time I had her attend a tea party with all of the duchesses,” the queen said. “She poured all of the tea into my potted plant thinking she could leave if there wasn’t any left to drink.”
“Oh, not you too, Mother,” Sabine groaned. It was her last night at home in the castle. She didn’t need them all telling these embarrassing stories.
A soldier rushed into the great hall, carrying a letter. He approached the king, bowing before handing it over.
The king picked up his dinner knife, using it to slice the seal open. The room remained quiet as he read its contents. When he finished, he folded it up and slid it into the pocket of his tunic. “I want to thank my family for being here tonight,” he said. “Even my grandchildren.” He raised his goblet. “A toast to Sabine. May your journey be safe, your marriage blessed with children, and your life in Lynk happy.”
“Here, here!” everyone said before taking a drink.
“I hate to end this early, but I must speak with Karl, Rolf, and Otto in my office. Immediately.” The king pushed his chair back and stood.
“That works out quite well since I must talk to Sabine about the wedding night,” the queen said.
“Everyone is leaving except for me?” Viktor asked, folding his hands behind his head. “That’s brilliant.”
“It’s late, Father,” Rolf said. “I’d like to escort my wife to our rooms.”
“It’ll have to wait,” the king replied. “I’ve received word from the League. There’s an issue we need to address. Now.”
Without another word, Karl, Rolf, and Otto followed their father from the room.
