Free to roam, I walked the palace grounds.
Dew from the manicured grass soaked my black boots, and the salty morning air dried my lips.
Despite events, or perhaps because of them, the palace was quiet. Some days, I walked the meadows between the palace and the town and stayed there a while, sitting among flowers while the breeze whispered to swaying flowerheads.
Not today, though. Today, exhaustion tugged at my body and mind.
Returning to my bunkroom—separate from the main residence chambers and the servants' quarters, a side chamber, like an afterthought—I swept inside, tore off my coat, and plucked at my shirt buttons, stripping off layers. Smells of salt air, dungeon dampness, and stale wine had followed me back. I could not stand uncleanliness.
I filled the washbasin with cold water, splashed my face, and blinked at the man in the mirror.
A purple bruise had bloomed on my jaw, where the guard had struck me. Purple, the color of pain.
I ran trembling fingers over it and winced. It didn't matter. It would heal.
Anything that didn't kill, healed eventually.
My reflection smiled, which meant I must have. I didn't feel it though.
I plunged my hands into the water again, caught sight of the stump where my missing finger should be, and froze. Some things didn't heal.
But this court wasn't that one. For all the lies and hypocrisy, the Court of Love wasn't the worst of the worlds I'd been trapped in. The countless little white scars marring my chest were evidence of that, each cut accompanied by a memory of laughter.
I splashed water up the mirror, warping the man there, and snatched up a towel.
There was no use in dwelling in the past. There was nothing there for me but nightmares.
I swept the towel across my chest, watching in the wet mirror how the tiny scars gleamed in the candlelight. A wax-sealed envelope lay on my pillow, behind me in the mirror.
I turned, and there it was, as plain as day. I'd missed it on my return.
The door had been locked, hadn't it?
I approached, as though the note might bite, and eyed it cautiously. The seal was purple, of course. If I tossed it out of the window, would its words still find me?
The symbol in the wax seal wasn't one I recognized. Perhaps the purple wax was just purple wax and didn't mean a damn thing.
I laughed. I must have been tired, for a purple seal to spook me.
Just a note. Nothing to fear. I snatched it up, broke the seal, and unfolded the thick cream paper, reading the words once, then again…
Like the news of the queen's death, the words swept over me, through me, taking too long to sink in.
I know who you are. Meet in my chamber.
Q.
Warlord Quinton. It had to be. The written words echoed those he'd spoken in the garden. Well then, it appeared the lord was determined to talk about truths that had nothing to do with him.
I'd go to him, discover what he knew, who he'd told, and from there… we'd see. There was a chance he could be used. War weren't the brightest of foes. Which begged the question how he knew as much as he did. Traitor's son. He'd answer my questions, either by pleasure or pain.
News of my innocence was new; the note couldn't have been left for long, or it would have been delivered to the dungeon. I'd visit him now.
I threw on a plain grey suit, attire the court's jester would never wear, and shrugged my hooded coat over the top, then tucked the note inside a pocket—it wouldn't do for anyone else to see such things. One loose end was quite enough. After leaving my chamber, I hurried back inside the servants' corridors, keeping my chin down and hood up.
Ellyn took some finding. She wasn't among the organized chaos of the kitchens, nor was she in the steam-filled laundry rooms. There were others I could ask for help, but few I trusted more.
I eventually found her in the communal sleeping area, folding clothes at one of the many beds laid out in rows. I stepped from the wall panel, emerging from the gloom, and snuck up behind her. The other maids chatted at the far end of the room, readying for bed now their shifts were over.
I poked Ellyn in the ribs.
She yelped and swung a right hook, forcing me to duck. "Levi!" she gasped, then shoved me in the chest and flicked my hood down. "Sneaking around the back walkways, you fiend! Can't you just walk about the palace like a lord, now you're innocent?"
I grinned and dropped onto the edge of the bed. "News travels fast."
"Like wildfire, down here. Get off my clothes. Or make yourself useful and help fold them."
Back on my feet, I picked up her washing and began to fold alongside her. "If I walk the main halls, by the time I've juggled and spouted poems for the nobility in my way, a day and night would have passed."
Her brow crinkled but she kept her smile and picked up a shirt, quickly flipping it around—the motions so well-practiced she didn't need to think to perform them. "I forget you're so desired you get accosted wherever you go."
"It's truly a curse." I joked, but I also existed to please, and the demands of pleasure never ended. Most days, I loved it, but being accused of murder, thrown in a cell, and then blackmailing the king had rather ruined my mood.
Ellyn saw some of that when she next side-eyed me.
To keep her from asking all those personal questions in her eyes, I picked up a blouse from her wrinkled pile and held it to my chest. "You'd look better in green," I told her.
She snatched it off me, but laughed. "What do you want?"
"I need another favor."
"By now you surely owe me a hundred."
"What's another favor between friends?" I folded some more, catching glimpse of a few of the staff watching me from across the room. Our banter had drawn attention. They'd be listening too. Being beautiful as well as an enigma truly was a curse, some days. "Where are the guests from War residing?" I whispered.
"What are you up to now?" she whispered back. "Fighting fires."
She chuckled in disbelief. "I've never known anyone to find trouble like you do."
"I rather think it finds me."
"Hm, this is me, Levi. I know you." She scooted her pile of washing to the end of the bed and leveled her glare on me. "You thrive on chaos."
"No, I thrive on controlling chaos." Like keeping all the balls in the air at once. Chaos restrained. That, I loved. Not chaos unleashed.
When Ellyn met my gaze, like this, I was in for some stern advice or terrible news.
"I'm glad you're free," she said, instead. "Thinking of you in the dungeons. It wasn't right."
"Well, imagine being there." I smiled, but she saw through the grin. She usually did. I let the flimsy smile go and sighed. "There is more happening here than the queen's death. I need to control it, before it turns into that chaos you believe I court."
"I know, and I'm sorry, for the queen. You and her were close—"
I laughed, startling Ellyn, and everyone listening in, including me. "That's one rumor which refuses to die."
"Laugh all you want, you liked her."
"Sweet Ellyn, I like a lot of people."
She planted a hand on her cocked hip. "You can admit it to me."
I rolled my eyes. "Where are War staying? Tell me that and I'll admit to liking the queen."
She smiled again, happy to have outmaneuvered me. "In the southern meadows rooms. Who are you looking for?"
"Quinton, a lord—"
"Oh yes, Warlord Quinton," she purred his name in a manner quite unbecoming of a lady, of which she wasn't, which was why I enjoyed her company above all others.
"You know of him?"
"No, not really, it's just…" With a wave, she tried to fight a bigger grin from her face.
"Are you implying something with that gesture?"
Flopping onto the edge of the bed, she leaned back and puffed her frizzy hair from her face. "I hear he's rather handsome, no?"
"Quinton, 'handsome'?" I suspected Quinton and I had been noticed in the gardens, and she'd heard all about it. That had been my plan, that we be witnessed. "I surely had not noticed."
Ellyn's left eyebrow arched. "You propositioned him, didn't you? Tell me, everyone says you did."
I perched my ass on the edge of the bed beside her. "Before or after I had his cock in my mouth?"
She squealed and landed a playful thump on my arm. "You're a menace, Levi!" Heat warmed her face. Her chuckles faded and in a low voice, she asked, "Was it good?"
"It certainly would have been, had I not been arrested during the act." She blinked, then snorted. "Your life is such an...unpredictable thing."
"You're more right than you know."
"I wish I was getting some."
"We both know it's not cock you want." She turned pensive, and it was time to move this conversation on. "Quinton's room?"
"The farthest from the entrance, the meadow side, right by the balcony overlooking the southern end of the gardens. Be nice to him, hm? I hear he lost a son a while back."
A son? He hadn't looked old enough to have much of a family, but they started them young in War. I pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'm always nice, and I'll pay you back."
"Levi, I want details!" she called.
"A fool never fucks and tells." I chuckled as I slipped back inside the servants' corridor, but my smile wilted as I left Ellyn and her friendship behind.
For all my jests and flippancy, I couldn't shake the sense a net was tightening, choking off my air. My heart ticked like a clock, its hands close to midnight. If I didn't get control of the rumors, my time at the Court of Love would soon come to an end.
Four years, poof. I'd become accustomed to Love's strange ways. Home was so far away, and so long ago, I could dismiss it as a dream. Or a nightmare.
I threw my hood over my head and navigated the corridors and twisting staircases, careful to keep my gaze away from anyone I passed. Unfortunately, being blessed with beauty and flare made navigating the palace anonymously almost impossible.
There goes Levi, what's he up to now? Levi, won't you tell us a tale? Levi, juggle these apples. Levi, dance for us. Levi, come to my room. Levi… I'll cut you where they won't see. Levi, kneel, lick my hand, my cock, drink me down…
Memories twitched, unbound inside my head.
I stumbled, tripped over my own feet, and fell against the wall.