Page 15 of The Wolf Queen

“So you’ve retained your faculties, despite your other… frailties.” He paused in his actions at my comment, shooting me a sidelong look. “Just that, Father, and only that.”

Chapter11

“Darcy…!”

I’d only been back in the family’s keep for a few hours and I already needed to escape. As I strode down the stairs—forcing myself not to run—away from my father’s domain, away from him, I heard my name called. Jan ran towards me, a very stern looking Del at her back. His hand remained on the hilt of his sword the entire time, his eyes wide. The lad was now in a Granian stronghold. He no doubt expected to find men leaping out from behind doors or around corners, ready to spill good Strelan blood.

But they didn’t.

I hadn’t allowed the children, my children, to come into the hall and be subjected to my father’s ire, and when Jan ran to me, I swept her up into my arms and held her close. For her, I told myself, my heart beating faster, this was all for her. Every mother across Strelae wanted the country secured against the ravages of the Reavers, but I was the one destined to do so.

“How’s my little princess?” I asked her, putting on a brave face when I looked down at her. “Were you good for your brother?”

“No,” Del grumped and he slunk closer with all the reluctance of a disgruntled cat. “And you are safe? The bloody Granians didn’t give you any trouble?”

“Not a one, young wolf.” Dane clapped him on the shoulder and I could see the tension leach from Del’s shoulders. He was being thrust into the role of a man too soon, but he craved the attention, the regard of the warriors. “Your lady made sure of that.”

“And now I’ll introduce you to Cook!” I said with a bright smile for Jan. “I used to sneak into her kitchen and nick sweeties when I was your age.”

“Sweets!” Jan crowed, her enthusiasm for simple things lightening something in me.

“Gods, don’t give her sweets. She’ll be running around in circles, chasing her own tail like a puppy,” Del groaned.

“And you’ll be there to pick her up when she falls in a heap,” Weyland said, as I walked down the hallway, Jan nestled in my arms and chattering about everything she saw.

I’d always assumedI’d return here one day, to lead my children up the keep’s hall to see their grandfather, or the new duke when my cousin took control of the estate, but I hadn’t anticipated this. I took my children deeper into the bowels of the building, where the bustle and savoury smells alerted us to our destination before we got there.

“Milady…”

Cook said my title, my old title, as if she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming. I watched her gather her skirts ready to drop down into a curtsy but I stepped forward to stop her, slipping a hand out from around Jan to take Cook’s hand in mine. I didn’t need her to give me that sign of respect and in some ways I didn’t feel like I deserved it.

“Cook, it’s so lovely to see you again,” I said. “I admit I wasn’t sure if I would. How are things with you? And in the kitchens?”

“Oh, you know, same thing every day, and no point in complaining.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked out across the kitchen. “There are always those with ears too big and hands too slow.” Her minions seemed to spring to more animated life, chopping, carrying, stirring and washing dishes with more vigour in response to her comment. She looked at me again and squeezed my hand in hers. “When you left with the princes, we weren’t sure if we’d see you again.” She blinked and looked past me to where my mates stood.

“They are my husbands, now,” I told her. “Kings of Strelae, too, as their father is dead.”

“Oh, my goodness…” She went to curtsy again but I smiled and shook my head. “So, you are queen, then? And, this little one is…?”

She looked from my face to Jan’s, those canny eyes cataloguing my girl’s features and then matching them against my men. Jan couldn’t have been my natural child, that was obvious, but I could see Cook wondering if she was one of my husbands’ by-blows…? I looked down at Jan, who’d gone suddenly shy. She’d tucked her head into my shoulder and I rocked her slightly in my arms.

How big was a mother’s heart, to love the children who are with them, while at the same time grieving the child they’ve lost? For that love to co-exist with that kind of pain? I felt an ache deep inside me, one part emotional, another part physical, but then I smiled and answered the question.

“This is my daughter, Jan, and my son, Del.” I wasn’t sure how they’d feel about it, but both children just stared at me, eyes wide. “I didn’t give birth to them, obviously, but they are mine just the same.”

“Then we must get them something to eat. They’re just skinny little things,” Cook tutted, shaking her head at such a state of affairs, then bustling around. Before too long she’d produced bowls of aromatic soup packed with lamb, barley and vegetables from the gardens just outside, and a loaf of bread had been cut into thick slices and set out alongside pats of fresh, creamy butter.

“Do I get a bowl of that, too?” Axe asked, edging closer.

“You can all have a bowl if you’d like,” Cook replied, with a pleased smile. “It might be simple food, but it’ll stick to your ribs.”

And just like that, any awkwardness about rank or circumstance disappeared as Cook fell into familiar rituals. While we sat around her big preparation table, I got the news from her in dribs and drabs.

“You left so suddenly, milady,” Cook said, pushing a bowl my way. I didn’t want it, my stomach always felt sour, my mouth filling with bile whenever food was around. I ate only when I absolutely needed to, when I was wavering on my feet and hollowed out with hunger, reasoning others needed food more than me and a few missed meals wouldn’t kill me. But the familiar scent, that comforting smell, tempted me and I picked the bowl up and sank my spoon into the thick broth. “We feared you’d been taken.”

“I left of my own accord,” I assured her. “I had to. Linnea—”

“That one.” Cook hissed the words out like it was a curse. “Always had high opinions of herself, right up until the end.” Then she blinked, seeming to remember I had a hand in that ending.

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