Chapter 40
"'The baker insisted that the newly hired staff be sent away for the day, as he claimed to be unwell'," Nerissea read softly beside me.
We were in my chamber, resting against the headboard of my bed. She held the book I had asked a maid to bring earlier. The door was locked.
"'But how could he?'" she continued. "'It was already so difficult to find a place willing to employ a man who walked with a limp. He could not afford the risk of dismissal over a single day's absence.'"
How clever she was. In just a few short months, she had learned so swiftly I daresay she may have caught up to me in the art of reading. Her voice was so very pleasant to hear. Unlike Her Majesty's low tone, Nerissea's voice was soft and soothing. Utterly made for romance books.
A knock came at the door, and we both startled. She swiftly tossed me the book and stood, smoothing her gown with quick hands and tucking her hair into place.
I opened the book again and flipped it to a random page. As she reached the door, she looked at me. I raised a hand and formed a small circle with my thumb and forefinger.
She opened the door.
"Boo," Her Majesty teased playfully as she leaned in and placed a kiss upon Nerissea's lips. "Did you miss me?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied with a smile.
That was not the truth. Nerissea is a liar in all things. I could not help but smile. I resolved to one day teach her the consequences of such fibs, for our beloved Ombrithar may choose to chastise her as She did me. And I could not bear to see Nerissea punished.
"The spring festival draws near," Her Majesty said. "You shall accompany me again this year."
The festival is held in the capital each spring, a grand celebration to honor the first war won by the founding king of Dunverra.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Nerissea answered.
Her Majesty turned to me and smirked, curling an arm about Nerissea's waist. "Come. Let us have our gowns fitted. The dressmakers await."
I lowered my eyes to the pages of the book in my lap.
It did pain me a little. Not because she was going with Nerissea, but because she was looking at me like that. I was not jealous of Nerissea. Truly, I was not. If anything, I wished for her to enjoy herself. I only wished Her Majesty would not look at me as though she wished me to ache, at least that was how I perceive it.
It was their yearly outing, and I understood. Sister Alethea and I, too, attended the festival yearly together without fail. We had a spot to which we always returned should we be separated in the crowd. We even had a silly phrase we would call out to find one another again. It always made us laugh.
The thought of her now brought sorrow to my chest. She had still not replied to my letters. She was never one to ignore me. Perhaps she was truly angry this time… I had left without even saying goodbye.
My parents had written nothing either. I had been here since the end of autumn, and now winter was well past its middle. In one of my letters I told them the Duke's men were searching for me. In the past, whenever I mentioned danger, they would respond at once. This time, they did not.
"Your Majesty," came a voice.
I looked up. Mr. Blightmere stood just behind them in the corridor.
"The Duchess has arrived."
"For what?" Her Majesty snapped. "It is not her day. What in the devil does that filthy cow want now?"
He glanced in my direction. "She asks for Lady Naevia."
"Tell that foul-blooded bitch to go bugger herself with a candlestick," Her Majesty said sharply. "Has she no cunts of her own to rut into?"
She took Nerissea by the waist and pulled her away.
I ought to feel happy she said that… but…
My thoughts wandered to the days when I still lived at the Temple of Lunovara. Her Majesty then was not as she is now.
She remained ever playful, yet the manner in which she treated me was wholly different. She would seek me out, stopping me on my way to town just to be with me. She would read aloud from her ancient texts and tease me with every line. She paid attention to me.
She would kiss me whenever she could…
Though her ways were wicked and unchaste, I fell in love with her mischief, her tenderness, the way she said I love you.
I fell in love with the princess that was willing to cast everything away to be with me.
But now… I begin to wonder if any trace of that love remains.