“Really?” I perked to attention. “Ruling queens, you say? Hmm. I like the sound of this place already. How do I get there, again? It might make a good summer getaway.”
His shoulders slumped. “You’re still not taking me seriously, are you?”
“Oh, Indy.” I sighed and hooked my arm through his, turning him in the direction of the castle when the evening trumpets blasted from the bell towers, announcing the approach of the evening meal. “Does it really matter whether I believe or not? You have a captive audience. Just keep telling me your tales.”
He frowned as he escorted me back home, shaking his head as he said, “Someday, I’ll get you to believe me. I swear it.”
“I have no doubt you will,” I agreed indulgently.
Because he probably would. With this constant tingling from my mark, I was almost sure I’d be insane within a fortnight and willing to believe just about anything.
5
Nicolette
Half an hour later, I stepped into the dining hall with my usual trepidation.
Five years had passed, but I’d never forgotten how I’d seen my own brother Caulder—dead with a sword wound in his back—laid upon the long table in here. Or my cousin Soren, who’d been disemboweled ten feet away for killing Caulder. Or Yasmin—Vienne’s sister—whom I’d murdered, turning to dust with magic power, not but minutes after Soren’s demise.
Sometimes, I still woke in a cold sweat, breathing hard and trembling, just remembering that one horrible hour that had transpired in this very room.
Tonight, however, it was full of lights and music and the merry, mingled voices of my closest loved ones.
“Nicolette! Nicolette!” Five-year-old Anniston ran up to me, grinning wildly. “Look what I got in the village at the celebration today. Isn’t it beautiful?”
She touched the pink floral wreath she wore on her head and beamed with pride as she twirled in a circle before me, making her lavender skirts float in a circle around her.
Immediately relaxing in the presence of the child, I crouched in front of her to inspect the wreath fully. “It’s a fine laurel, my lady. Probably the finest in all the land.”
When I tweaked her nose, she giggled and raced off to join her toddling brother, Emory, who was petting one of the hounds lounging on the floor in front of the fireplace. Vienne’s daughter, Anniston, had been named after the very grandmother who’d been sister to Indigo’s storytelling grandpa, Atchison. Anniston’s father, however, was my late cousin, Soren, which made the girl my first cousin once removed, I guess.
Realizing that connected me in relation to my own bodyguard, I glanced back to find Indigo, only to realize he’d trooped over to visit Emory and the hounds as well. Shaking my head in amusement as I watched him reposition the sword hanging from his side so he could kneel next to the two-year-old, I decided to take my seat at the royal table, only to be stalled by my brother before reaching it.
“Sister!” Brentley’s voice boomed in a pleasant kind of surprise from across the room where he was already seated. “Are you to dine with us tonight, then? I had thought you might not come down this evening, seeing as you skipped the celebration in the village today.”
If I had looked toward the king’s seat of honor five years ago, I would’ve seen Caulder there instead, seated next to Soren, the two of them deep in discussion about something or other. But now that both my cousin and eldest brother were gone, that left my second brother, Brentley, wearing the crown, and his brother-in-law, Urban, who sat beside him.
I had never been close to Caulder, and Soren had ignored me completely. But both Brentley and Urban nodded in greeting with great respect and affection when I glanced their way, smiling mischievously as if they had a secret to behold.
I still wasn’t used to garnering such a reaction from two of the highest-ranked men in the kingdom. So I nodded back to them solemnly, not feeling the same cheer they seemed to be experiencing.
“I just wasn’t in the mood for large crowds today,” I answered.
To which Brentley’s brow furrowed in worry because I usually adored going to the village. “Has something been troubling you, dear heart?”
Another change from Caulder’s rule to Brentley’s: this king actually cared about my happiness.
I offered him a vague smile. “Of course not, brother. I must’ve just overtaxed myself with all the preparations for the festival, that’s all.”
“Then you must take it easier next time. I can’t have my favorite sister overtaxed and exhausted. There are always plenty of hands willing to help with such things. You know you never need to overburden yourself, don’t you?”
I inclined my head. “Of course. I just got carried away with all the planning. And before I knew it, I was completely spent.”
His smile spread. “Ah. I understand. ’Tis an affliction my wife suffers from as well.”
“Suffering isn’t the word I’d use for it exactly,” his wife countered as she strolled into the room, her elbow hooked with Urban’s wife, Vienne, who was cradling her infant son, Iver, in her arms. “I see it more as a gift and an opportunity to make our people smile. Not a suffrage at all.” Stretching her hand out to me, Queen Allera greeted, “Sister! Come. Vienne and I pined over your absence at the celebration today and now we wish to gossip with you about everything you missed.”
“Yes, we have much to share,” Vienne invited.