Forbidden Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 1)

by R. J. Vickers

  “There may be a war either way.” I realized I was crumpling the parchment in my fierce grip and tucked it swiftly into a purse on my belt. “If my enemies take power and start stripping rights away from the magic races, no one will stand for that. Or at least, I hope they won’t.”

  Cal stopped chewing on his lip and instead set his jaw with resolve. “I don’t care what anyone says. I won’t vote for someone who wants to take away my rights. You can count on me.”

  I was touched by his determination, though I could not see what one young man—especially one who had lost respect in the eyes of his family by running around with servants—could do against the growing hatred that surrounded me.

  “Thank you,” I said gently. “But you really must return to your family’s wing and speak of this to no one.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Cal gave me a soldier’s salute. “It will be our secret.”

  As I hurried back to our wing, a grim thought rose to the front of my mind. What if Leoth was responsible for this dire warning? What if it was he and his supporters who threatened war? It did not match with the Leoth I was beginning to trust, but I could not say for sure that it was beneath him.

  Whether it was the chill air of the stone corridors or the sense of foreboding that had settled on me, I felt goosebumps erupt down my arms as I started up the stairs to the Cheltish wing. I could not decide whether I should tell the king about the message or keep it to myself. My greatest fear was that he would take the threat seriously and convince Mother to revoke her support of my reign.

  But if the unknown writer truly did have the resources to start a war if I took the throne, I could be doing the most good by relinquishing my claim. Perhaps I should share it with Mother first, and let her decide whether Father should be warned.

  * * *

  It felt like hours before anyone else returned from dinner. Unable to sit still, I paced the common are, my nerves buzzing with the restless energy I had soaked from the crowd at dinner. The king was the first to appear, flanked by his usual band of guards and butlers; he gave me a look of concern when he spotted me, and I stopped my pacing abruptly, suddenly aware that my hair was falling loose from its knot and my face was likely flushed from worry.

  “Kalleah? Is something amiss?”

  Cloudy gods. Now he was sure to ask Mother for the truth if I spoke to her in private. Well, perhaps I should be upfront with him. He was my father, after all, and he had already proven his devotion by allowing me back into his life.

  “Could I speak with you and Mother—in private?” I asked, glancing at the servants, whose expressions were carefully emotionless.

  “Of course,” the king said. “There is much I wish to discuss with you in any case. Terrin, send a carafe of wine to my quarters, if you would.”

  I blinked. Had he already heard the anonymous warning?

  Before I was ready, the king took my hand and placed it on his elbow, escorting me to the royal quarters. It was an unexpectedly fatherly gesture from one who had thus far distanced himself from me.

  “I owe you an apology,” the king said as we settled onto plush settees in his private sitting room. “It was inconvenient that you returned to Baylore when you did, especially with the current political tensions, but even if you had stayed away, the growing anti-magical sentiment would have eventually come to a head. It started with your birth—or, more specifically, with the death of your nursemaid. It reminded people that magic could still be used for great harm, as much as we regulated its use. And the fact that we chose to grant you life awoke fears of corruption within Baylore Palace—fears that we might someday use the forbidden powers to enslave our population. It was our fault for not doing away with you when we ought to. You are only inheriting our folly.”

  He spoke of killing me with such nonchalance that I wanted to shudder. And yet his words made sense; allowing me to live had been a greater crime than killing an infant might have been, at least in the eyes of his people.

  Mother arrived just then, with the butler on her heels, saving me the challenge of responding to the king’s dire words. She smiled and remarked on the delicious lamb at dinner while the butler poured our glasses, but as soon as he shut the door behind him, the smile slid from her face.

  “What is it?” she asked me. “I was advised you wished to speak with us regarding some urgent matter.”

  I handed her the missive. “It’s addressed to the king. The servant who gave it to me didn’t recognize the writer.”

  Mother turned the parchment over and frowned at the seal. “This crest does not belong to any of our nobility. Its sender is either foreign or has created a fraudulent crest.”

  Foreign…what foreign powers could threaten war with Itrea? In five centuries, we had seen nothing but peace on these shores. The Wandering Woods had kept out all who made it past the treacherous rocks in Larkhaven’s harbor.

  Mother’s expression darkened as she read the note. “We have powerful allies,” she muttered. “Perhaps it is a foreign crest after all. And the threat is against the entire palace, not simply our family.”

  She passed the folded parchment to the king, who read it stone-faced.

  “I don’t want to rule if it means Baylore will fall to ruin,” I said.

  “Unfortunately, you don’t have much choice.” The king tossed the parchment onto a table and took a long drink of wine. “Leoth would cause even more chaos than you if he took your place on the throne. He and his parents have sworn to regulate the magic races more strictly, and that will cause riots at the very least, or even a full-blown uprising. Worse, his popularity and charm could see him on the throne for the next thirty years. Since this threat of unknown enemies is unsubstantiated, we cannot give it credence. We must ensure you take the throne, and from there we must do everything we can to diffuse the tension in Baylore before it turns to a real conflict.”

  “And that’s all? We just pretend nothing happened?” I could not keep my eyes from the parchment.

  Mother snatched the note and strode to the fireplace, where she dropped it on the flames. The paper was engulfed almost immediately, but I thought I could see the wax seal melting over one of the logs. “We will send our spies and diplomats to seek the truth, but for now you ought to put it from your mind.”

  The king sighed and drained the last of his wine. I found I was thirsty as well and sipped deeply, wishing it would let me forget who I was.

  “We need to discuss political matters as well, over the coming quarters.” The king rose, readjusting his coat, and I took it to mean I was dismissed. “There are many initiatives I would like to see finished in my lifetime, and you will need to continue where I left off. We must also think of policies that will endear you to our people as well, if you wish to hope for reelection. I will send someone for you at six o’clock tomorrow morning. It is the only time I can take off from my duties.”

  I curtseyed and took my leave, a hundred questions spinning through my mind. As encouraging as it was to have the king’s explicit support for the first time, I could not forget the anonymous warning so easily.

  If Kalleah rules, then death will come for you and everyone you hold dear. I shivered.

  * * *

  I was so distracted that I forgot my promise to meet Leoth until late that night, after midnight. I had been lying awake for hours, trying to guess who our unseen enemies were, and at the same time dreading my early meeting with the king the next morning. I did not like early mornings at the best of times, and now, with my thoughts plagued with uncertainty and fear, I worried I would fall ill if I could not rest.

  When at last I recalled my arrangements with Leoth, I sprang from bed and pulled a dressing-gown over my nightclothes. I very much doubted he would be there, but at least the fresh air might help clear my mind. Any eagerness to spend time in his presence was now tempered by the fear he was behind the nameless threat. If I could look in his eyes as I asked him about my family’s enemies, I might be able to read the truth
in his expression.

  As I suspected, the halls were dark and silent, the rooftop courtyard empty. I had misplaced my Weaver’s lamp somewhere, and the candle I brought in its stead began flickering violently as I started up the exposed stairs, so I left it behind and continued by the light of the moon.

  A stiff breeze had risen, and clouds were beginning to build in the west. I hugged my arms over my stomach, enjoying the icy air on my cheeks as I stepped up to one of the segments of railing framed by stone arches. The half-moon cast a pale glow over the rooftops of Baylore, washing everything below in stark grey hues.

  How I wished I could cast off my curse and my inheritance and meet Leoth anew as nothing more than a young woman in love with a handsome man. But someone had to take on this burden, and I knew I could manage it. This was what I had been raised to do—to uphold the values my country had once cherished, though I would meet hatred at every turn. I would not wish my fate on anyone.

  * * *

  By the time morning came, I was glad to be woken even though I was exhausted, for it meant no more hours of wrestling with my half-asleep fears and questions. Mother and the king were both waiting for me, clear-eyed where I knew mine were reddened and bleary, and we took a pot of tea down to the study beside the library.

  That day and each of the ones following, the king began laying out his plans for Itrea’s future and discussing how he dealt with smaller matters as they arose. He had many grand ideas that would take more than a lifetime to enact, including strengthening ties with the Kinship Thrones so we could legitimize trade of magical goods, rather than using smugglers; cleaning up the slums, as he thought they were a breeding ground of disease and vermin; improving roads to the outlying communities around Baylore; and gradually working on a way to integrate the forbidden races into society without their powers becoming a danger to other civilians. I doubted many kings were as visionary as my father—and for the first time, I was proud to call him that—so he could do nothing but hope he could hand down his work to a successor who would follow through.

  When I saw Leoth at dinner that night, he gave me a look of annoyance and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the meal. He must have thought I avoided him deliberately the night before.

  I waited until he left the small Cheltish wing dining room before excusing myself, and caught up to him on the stairs.

  “Did you have something to ask me?” he said shortly when I grabbed his arm.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you last night,” I whispered. “The king received something—alarming—and I completely forgot. Besides, the stars weren’t very bright with the moon out.”

  Leoth’s eyes widened. “You did go out looking for me? I should have waited.”

  I laughed. “It was past midnight. I had a restless sleep, and only remembered our plans just then.”

  “Is everything all right, Kalleah?”

  Even now, after so much uncertainty and suspicion, the way he said my name still sent warmth coursing through me. I couldn’t believe he was behind the threat. “I hope so.”

  Leoth glanced out the window. “I doubt we’ll see any stars tonight, but the next clear night, will you look for me again?”

  I tried to conceal my smile. “Of course. And do you want to discuss politics any further? My father is sharing some of his long-term plans for the kingdom, and I think you would support them as well.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  “You look surprised,” I said.

  Leoth shrugged. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to the king as your father.”

  21

  A Momentary Lapse

  W hat with a string of cloudy days and several formal dinners that lasted late into the night, it was several quarters before I had a chance to keep my promise to Leoth. This time I dressed warmly, with my thickest wool dress and a heavy cloak, and I wrapped a scarf over my head.

  Though I had been waiting for the chance to see Leoth alone for ages, part of me worried he was only playing games with me, while another part knew I was getting myself in too deep with someone I could never be with.

  Yet there he was, leaning against the balustrade with a Weaver’s lamp at his feet, the stars filling the sky above him.

  He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and even in the dark I could see his teeth as he smiled.

  “I didn’t actually expect you to join me. I’ve come up here every night for the past two quarters, just in case.”

  “You didn’t!” Joining him at the railing, I swatted him on the arm.

  “It’s true.” He gave me a cheeky grin.

  Before I could protest, Leoth reached up and unwrapped the scarf from my hair. We had spent plenty of time in each other’s company in recent days, discussing politics and dreaming of what we might do if we had no obligations to the throne, but we had always met in public places so as not to raise suspicion, and had kept our talk from straying into dangerous areas.

  Here, though, Leoth’s gesture immediately lent intimacy to the moment. I moved closer to him, our arms brushing, and pretended to take an interest in the stars.

  “I’ve always enjoyed staying out at night,” I said. “I was never much good at recognizing constellations, but I loved seeing the Great Arch and watching for shooting stars.”

  “I like staying out late as well,” Leoth said with a chuckle. “Yet another habit my parents couldn’t correct in me. But I’ve always had trouble sleeping, so I’d rather stay up and look at the stars than lie in bed for hours wishing for sleep.”

  I had trouble sleeping as well, of course, though I didn’t say as much. If I mentioned it, I would have to explain that it was due to the excess energy I absorbed during the day, which might remind him that I was poor company for a prince.

  “I haven’t seen you at many of my intimate gatherings lately.” Leoth elbowed me, his expression playful.

  “I’ve been busy with my parents.” I sighed. “I don’t know how I can possibly learn everything I ought to know before Midwinter.”

  “My offer still stands, you know,” Leoth said, and while his tone was light, his eyes grew serious. “If you married me, we could combine our knowledge.” He must have seen something in my expression, because he laughed. “Who am I kidding? I’m as clueless as you are.”

  I tried to laugh as well. “You know that would never work, Leoth. Everything you stand for goes against everything I am. Your supporters would never accept me, and I couldn’t degrade myself by joining forces with someone who spends his days saying people like me ought to be killed. I don’t even know why I spend time with you.”

  “Maybe it’s my charm?” Leoth teased, letting one arm fall so it was resting ever so gently on the small of my back. When I turned to meet his pensive gaze, we were so close I could feel his breath against my lips. “No, I don’t mean to turn this into a joke. I wish I could tell you the truth about everything, and I wish you knew how much I care for you. Even though I shouldn’t, and even though you should be running in the opposite direction.”

  I closed my eyes, wanting to preserve this moment forever. “Maybe sometimes our present happiness outweighs all future misery. Maybe we ought to…”

  My words melted away, for Leoth had closed the distance between us and pressed his lips against mine. There was desperation in his kiss, and fierce passion, but his hands on my back and in my hair were ever so gentle.

  When at last we fell apart, I could see Leoth’s chest rising and falling in time with my own as we caught our breath.

  “I’m sorry, that was not my place—”

  I silenced Leoth with another gentle kiss. “We are foolish, but let us not apologize for it.”

  Leoth grinned. “When can I see you again?”

  “I have a meeting with the king tomorrow morning, and a general assembly in the afternoon…”

  “Forget your obligations tomorrow,” Leoth said. “I want you to come for a ride with me.”

  “I would be honored.”
/>
  * * *

  It was easy it was to escape my parents’ attention the next day. The king was evidently preoccupied by some matter that would be decided in the general assembly, and Mother was overseeing the planning for the Midwinter Ball, so they waved me off without asking for any further explanation.

  Winter had begun, practically unannounced, so I dressed in my warmest riding skirts, with a pair of trousers underneath and a heavy cloak atop it all. Leoth met me on the stairs of my tower, and he gave me yet another cloak, this one matching the Reycoran servants’ uniform.

  “I suspect you won’t be able to escape the palace unless in disguise,” Leoth said.

  I took the cloak and wrapped it over my shoulders, grateful for the additional warmth. The palace halls were heated by enchanted tapestries that radiated warmth, but I was well accustomed to the bitter winds that swept over the plains in winter.

  “Are you trying to smuggle me out so you can kill me without leaving any evidence?” I said playfully.

  Leoth raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock horror. “My lady! Whatever have I done to give you such a poor opinion of me?”

  I laughed, giddy at the prospect of more time in his company. All the past night, my thoughts had warred between horror at what I had done and delight at the memory of my first kiss.

  “Of course, we could do this properly, with an army of guards and servants dogging our every step. But I thought it would be fun to escape the formalities.”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  I was surprised at how easily Leoth slipped past the guards at the front gates; they were evidently accustomed to him coming and going without an escort. It reminded me of the time I saw him in the city, joining one of the secret meetings with the Truthbringers, and a knot of unease lodged itself in my stomach. I banished it for now, but I could not help but wonder if I was making the greatest mistake of my life. He really could kill me out in the plains, and no one would be any the wiser.