Page 21 of Royal Rebel

Grayson had told her the serjan’s health had been poor for years before he’d heard the rumor that one of his daughters might be alive. The shock of that news had sent him into a seizure, and he’d collapsed. He’d never recovered.

He loves you,Grayson had said of Desfan.He asked me to tell you that.

Maybe Desfan hadn’t put it all together yet. Perhaps he hadn’t realized their father’s death was her fault.

But he would.

Mia had too many deaths on her conscience. Her father, Tahlyah . . . When Desfan learned the truth, he would hate her.

Her chest felt too tight. Her breaths were thin and sharp.

Fletcher touched her arm. “Mia?” Concern hung in his eyes and layered his voice.

She shoved the thoughts and memories away before they could strangle her. “I’m all right.”

He didn’t look like he believed her.

Rena cleared her throat, the sound tentative. “Perhaps I can draw you a bath, and we can get you in a clean dress.”

Anything to get them both to stop looking at her like she was only a strained breath away from breaking. “Yes. Thank you.”

The bath had helped, as had changing into a clean dress. Rena had combed her hair and twisted the long waves into an easy knot at the back of her head. Feeling more settled and in control, Mia was able to approach Tyrell’s door with something almost like confidence. Fletcher shadowed her, though of course he only thought she was going to retrieve a few things.

A single guard watched Tyrell’s room, and it was someone Mia recognized, though she couldn’t remember his name.

Before she could address him, an unfamiliar voice called out from behind her. “Lady Mia?”

She turned and saw a young boy step gingerly toward her. “Yes?” she asked, thrown by the title he’d given her.

The boy’s tongue darted nervously over his lips. “Excuse me, but I have a summons for you.” He held out a small card.

Mia’s brow furrowed, but she murmured thanks as she accepted it. She had no idea who it could be from—all the Kaelins had gone with Grayson.

The words on the small card came into focus, written in a precise script, though it was clearly done by a female hand.

Mia,

Come to my garden for tea. There is so much for us to talk about.

—Queen Iris Kaelin

The card shook a little in Mia’s suddenly cold hand.

She’d been wrong. Notallthe Kaelins were gone from the castle. Grayson’s mother was still here, and she’d just summoned Mia to her poison garden.

Mia’s heart thudded as she entered the queen’s poisonous realm. The queen’s men who guarded the entrance to the private garden made it clear Fletcher would not be allowed in with her, so she alone followed the young boy into the secluded inner courtyard.

The walls were high and the area was filled with plants in the early stages of their seasonal death; the autumn air chilled Mia’s skin, even though the noonday sun shone overhead. The smell of light decay and still-flowering shrubs tickled her nose.

Behind her, the door to the garden closed. Knowing Fletcher could no longer see her caused a shiver to run down her spine, but she forced herself to follow the pebbled path in front of her. The small rocks bit through the soft soles of her shoes.

The garden might have been beautiful, if Mia didn’t know who it belonged to. Or that everything she looked at could probably cause pain or death. As it was, walking through the well-tended space lifted every hair on her body.

The queen waited in the back corner of the walled courtyard, seated at a wrought-iron table. Though Mia had never seen Grayson’s mother, there was no mistaking her.

The queen’s posture was exact and her dress was immaculately white. A pale lavender sash encircled her waist, and her long brown hair was gathered into a braid that trailed over one shoulder. Silver hair touched her temples, and there were a few fine lines around her eyes, but she was surprisingly pretty. Nothing like the horrible crone Mia had pictured when Grayson spoke of his mother. She wondered if the queen’s beauty was what had fascinated Henri first, or if he’d been drawn to Iris for another reason. She couldn’t imagine those two awful people felt love, even for each other.

Iris’s gray eyes were an echo of Grayson’s, and they were trained on Mia’s approach. Her expression was smooth, revealing nothing.

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