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

by R. J. Vickers

  “This is my favorite part of Midwinter,” Mother confided when she and the king joined me outside the royal suite. “More than the feasting and dancing and everything to follow.”

  I did not know what she referred to, but she took my arm and led me down the stairs to the historic wing, the rest of our forty-odd extended family members falling in behind us and the king. Before long we reached a cozy tea-room I had never seen before, which had been set up with blue-and-gold velvet cushions around a number of low, circular tables. What followed was two hours of pleasant talk of only the happiest memories from the past year and hopes for the coming year, accompanied by soft music from a lute and several rounds of delicious spiced teas with small bites of pastry and cheese and sweets—nothing that would ruin our appetites for the evening meal.

  It felt like an escape from reality, much as my night with Leoth had been, for everyone was determined to act kind even to me, so I was able to engage in conversation with members of my family who had studiously avoided me before now. We rotated tables as the time wore on, which meant I sat with Leoth at one point; he made a good show of pretending indifference to me, with his father watching carefully from his left, though he did squeeze my knee surreptitiously beneath the table.

  Then we returned to our wing to bathe and dress for the evening’s festivities. I wondered if the unusual kindness from the afternoon would continue into the night; if so, it would be a festival to remember.

  My new lady-in-waiting, who was so frightened of me that she would not meet my eyes even after over a span of service, helped wrap my hair into a thick, swirled bun festooned with pearl-encrusted pins. Then she dressed me in a gown of shimmering white cut with pale, icy blue accents, the billowing skirt so wide I was not sure I would be able to make it down my tower stairs. Once she snugged a dainty tiara into my hair, I looked for all the world like a queen of the Icelings, save for my dark skin and hair.

  “You look beautiful, Your Highness,” my lady-in-waiting said, curtseying with downcast eyes.

  “Thank you,” I said, though I knew she only said it out of duty. “You may go.”

  When I was alone, I studied myself in the mirror, feeling more beautiful than I ever had. I smiled at myself before affecting a stern demeanor—when I needed to act like a queen, this woman in the mirror was the one I would remember. This tall, commanding being of ice and snow.

  Night had already fallen, the city lamps and candles muffled beneath a rising layer of haze from fireplaces, so I started down the stairs, clutching my skirts carefully to avoid brushing against the walls.

  Mother swept up to me and kissed me on the cheek when I reached the sitting-room. “You have outdone yourself, my love. No one will be able to keep their eyes off you.”

  And indeed she was right. The same women who had spoken civilly with me earlier that day now cast me resentful glances and whispered in one another’s ears, while Leoth did a double take and could not stop staring at me, even though I gave him only a hint of a smile before avoiding his eyes.

  We arrived in the great banquet hall accompanied by lively music from the string quartet in one corner and the smell of roasting meats and spices. The usual tapestries on the walls had been replaced with new ones, all depicting wintry scenes such as snowy hunts, great Iceling palaces, and snow-encased peaks.

  The feast was far finer than any I had indulged in before, with course after course of delicacies—morels wrapped with soft cheese in pastry, pheasants stuffed with gravy and served with their feathers re-adhered, thin-sliced potatoes in saffron cream sauce, glazed and honeyed carrots, cheese-and-garlic soufflés with herbed butter melting off the tops, and a dozen more that I could not even recognize. The wine flowed freely as well, so the conversation grew louder and louder as the evening progressed.

  I tried to moderate my portions, but I could not resist sampling every dish that was placed before me; inevitably my bodice felt uncomfortably tight by the time the last of the meal was cleared away.

  Then, when I thought surely it was time to proceed to the ballroom, a couple dozen copper vats of rich-smelling, dark spiced wine were brought to the long tables. Upon each floated six fruits that I did not recognize.

  “This is our version of the night-long stew,” Mother said with a smile. “Mulled wine. When the pomegranates touch the base, it is time for the pot to be refilled.”

  We were each brought a full mug of mulled wine, still steaming and adorned with a stick of cinnamon. Once Mother and Father drained their mugs, it was the signal for the ball to commence.

  Carrying our mugs, followed by an army of servants with the still-full vats of wine, we processed through the wide doors to the ballroom in a swirl of skirts. Once the two hundred royals were arrayed at the front of the ballroom, the doors at the rear were opened to admit a flurry of wealthy and noble guests who did not reside at the palace.

  Though I tried to fix the smile on my face, I felt a bit sick at the sight of so many townsfolk—or perhaps it was just the result of too much rich food. But I could not forget the torment I had endured at their hands.

  However, the stares I received were not entirely hostile. Perhaps there were magicians among them who sympathized with my family over Leoth, or perhaps they were unsure how much support I had within the nobility and did not wish to risk their invitations getting revoked.

  “Welcome, one and all,” the king said, raising his goblet in toast to the crowd. “Another year has gone, and a new one awaits. As my reign draws to a close, I wish to extend heartfelt well-wishes to every citizen of Itrea. Regardless of the challenges that lie ahead, I hope you will remember that Itrea is perhaps the wealthiest, most peaceful kingdom in the world, affording our citizens greater rights than any other. No matter what your thoughts on my successor, or on magic as a whole, I hope you agree with us that you are lucky to live in Baylore. It has been my honor and my privilege to stand as your king. And now, I invite you to make merry!”

  With that, the musicians at the front of the room began a stately tune and the king led Mother onto the cleared dance floor. I thought I recognized it as a Lavant—the formal dance Mother and Father had led at the previous ball—and was disgruntled when, after the other ruling couples joined on the second round, I was pushed forward by one of my relatives. It seemed all of the parents, children, and grandchildren of the ruling couples were supposed to join, and I was panicked at first, for I had no partner or knowledge of the steps.

  Yet within moments, Cal had appeared at my side and taken my hands with a grin. Though he appeared to have grown a few finger-widths in the several quarters since I had last seen him, I still towered a head over him.

  “I don’t know this one!” I hissed at him, looking over my shoulder to see what everyone else was doing.

  “But I do.” Cal’s grin widened. “It’s easy. And besides, you’re the most beautiful woman at the ball.” Though his voice was playful, he reddened at the words. “My friends will be jealous for weeks after they see me dancing with you, and no one will care if you fumble the steps.”

  Still dubious, I put a hand on his waist, copying the nearest couple, and let him guide me forward and backward, our feet moving more or less in time. There were young children out on the dance floor as well, so surely I would not look as clumsy as them.

  “Have you made friends among your peers?” I asked when I thought I had mastered the steps well enough to let my attention stray. “Or are your servant friends allowed to attend the ball?”

  Cal made a face and trod on my foot. “Sorry, that was my fault. No, it’s that foot there.”

  He was silent, brow furrowed, as we tried to match steps again.

  “Mother has been watching me as if her life depends on it,” he said grumpily. “I almost think she’s got some magical way of spying on me sometimes! I haven’t been allowed anywhere near my real friends in ages. But I’ve got allies, and she’s going to regret meddling in my business.”

  “What do you have planned?” I asked
cautiously. I hoped I was not responsible for ruining his relationship with his parents.

  “Oh, it’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough, though. Mother will never underestimate me again.” As his mouth drew into a thin line, he looked much older than his fourteen years. “What about you, then? You might be queen soon. What’s the first thing you’ll do as ruler?”

  “I seriously doubt the nobles will vote for me,” I said sourly. “But if I did become queen, the first law I would pass would forbid any discrimination against either magical or non-magical citizens. Anyone who sought to sow unrest between the two would be punished.”

  “I like that,” Cal said, his boyish grin back. The dance finished just then, so we bowed to one another and retreated from the floor. Cal slipped through the crowd to seek out another dance partner closer to his age—or perhaps to brag to his friends about the Lavant—while I hung back, feeling uneasy. As much as I enjoyed having an ally in Calden, his mother would likely take the throne in a few short years, at which point she could make life very difficult for her son if he showed any signs of disobedience.

  I wanted to speak to Saniya, but she had already been swept onto the dance floor by Carrick, the quiet man who had charmed her at the previous ball. I smiled to see her evident joy—Carrick had not appeared at Leoth’s gatherings much lately, and Saniya had confided her worries that he was avoiding her. Clearly she had been mistaken.

  When the dance ended, Saniya sought me out—I had taken up a spot beside one of the dessert tables, where I could observe the dance without attracting too many stares—and informed me with delight that Carrick was fully supportive of my inheritance and would be voting for me over Leoth.

  “That was why he stopped going to Leoth’s gatherings,” Saniya said, her eyes sparkling. “He did not want to spend too much time around Leoth until after the palace vote, for fear of being thought a traitor.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” I embraced Saniya, careful not to disturb her elaborate silver headpiece with its dangling charms. Mentally I was tallying up my possible supporters. There were two others among Leoth’s friends who I thought might side with me, simply because they were concerned about what would happen to their own magically gifted relatives if Leoth took power, but even after my hard work of the past few quarters, I was still far short of twenty.

  “Now you should be dancing.” Saniya gave me a gentle push around the refreshments table. “There is no better way to win young men to your side than to practice a bit of flirtatious banter.”

  The musicians were now striking up the tune to a Bashard, an elegant though simple dance that I was very familiar with. I did not wish to be seen seeking dance partners—it would not do to come across as desperate—but I needn’t have worried. Within seconds of setting down my now-empty mug of mulled wine, I was approached by a dimpled young man with short-cropped brown hair. He looked vaguely familiar, but I was not sure if he was one of the Dellgrain family or simply a wealthy city-dweller who had attended a previous function.

  “Your Majesty.” He bowed and kissed my hand; I smelled alcohol on his breath. “You cut a striking figure. I could not resist seeking you out.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” I said, with what I hoped looked like an imperious smile. “I apologize; I don’t believe I have made your acquaintance before.”

  “Prince Jullant, Your Majesty. Cousin to the Dellgrain heir. I would be honored if you would consent to dance with me.”

  My smile was more genuine this time—I was relieved I was not wasting my time with a wealthy townsman. “Well met, Prince Jullant. I would be honored to share this dance with you.”

  And we were off. I tried to keep the talk to pleasant matters that we could easily agree upon—the roast pheasant was delicious, was it not? And what a shame that the weather has trapped us inside for so long—though I did probe delicately into the prince’s political views. From what little he let on, I understood that he had nothing against magical races as a whole, though he was not sure he could accept a forbidden race on the throne.

  “It will make quite a stir with my family for me to dance with you at all,” he confided, with a delighted look that I did not like.

  “I’m pleased to be of service,” I said, my cheeks aching from the effort of keeping my false smile in place.

  “Your mother was brave to bring you back to court at a time like this.”

  The fact that he referred to her as “your mother” rather than “the queen” said a lot about his opinions. I did not respond.

  To my relief, the dance ended soon, and I pretended I had another partner waiting for me so I could escape the prince.

  Instead of seeking out a dance partner, however, I darted over to the refreshments table and downed half a mug of mulled wine as though I was parched. I had wanted to keep a clear head, but I could not endure the company of such royals while sober.

  As the night stretched later, and the laughter grew more raucous, I danced with so many young nobles and princes and wealthy townsfolk that I began to lose track. Some had sought me out simply to admonish me for daring to seek the throne; others were love-struck fools who had seen my beauty that night and forgotten everything they had been warned about; while a few rare ones confided that they did not care who took the throne as long as the rights of our magic races were not compromised. I saved my charm for those partners, for I thought it likely they would cast their vote for me if they knew what Leoth intended.

  A few times I caught Leoth watching me with his mouth twisted in jealousy; he danced with as many partners as I, though he always seemed distracted and distant. I did not intend to watch him as closely as I did, but he struck a handsome figure in deep blue and white, and somehow my eyes kept getting drawn his way.

  To an observer, it would have looked as though I was having the best night of my life. I laughed heartily at the stupid jokes my partners made, smiled and batted my eyelashes at their smug faces, and tried to make them feel as though they were the center of my life.

  It was exhausting.

  The fact that I knew fewer than one in four dances did not seem to discourage the men who sought me out; they were only too happy to lead, and smiled indulgently when I trod on their fine boots or tangled our legs in my billowing skirts.

  Between dances, I drank steaming mulled wine from the bottomless night-long cauldrons or sipped thick, bittersweet hot chocolate from tiny pots that dotted each of the refreshment tables—the invigorating properties of the dark chocolate helped keep me awake even as midnight came and went.

  By the time Leoth approached me for his promised dance, I had accidentally drank more of the mulled wine than I had intended, and I felt a bit unsteady on my feet.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” I said softly when Leoth bowed to me. “If I had to endure another one of those inane princes, I might throw myself off the balcony.”

  “You looked as though you were having a brilliant time.” It sounded as though he was trying to joke, but his tone came across as sour.

  I laughed. “I’m in desperate need of people who will vote for me. If it means flirting with every piece of manflesh in this palace, so be it.”

  This time Leoth’s smile was genuine. “You should have said something! I would have saved you sooner. I wanted to wait for your favorite dance, though.”

  Now that he mentioned it, I recognized the first notes of the Camorae. “You remembered!”

  Taking my hands gently, Leoth tugged me onto the dance floor. I wanted to melt into his arms and let him carry me to bed; instead I let him guide me in the first steps. A combination of alcohol and exhaustion made it feel as though everything moved too fast around me, and as I grew dizzy from the twirling Camorae, I leaned into Leoth’s arms and let him steady me. He was so warm, so close, and his dark, handsome face was lit with happiness, his curls falling with careless grace around his forehead; it was all I could do to resist kissing him. His smiling lips taunted me—surely no one would notice if we were quick about it�
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  “Kalleah!” Leoth admonished teasingly. “I thought you said no one was to know about us.”

  I drew back, blinking fast. “Sorry. It’s hard, though. Keeping away from you, I mean.”

  The hunger in his eyes startled me. “I know. Nine plagues, this was a mistake. I’m going to think about you every day until I die.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “You’ve had a bit much to drink, haven’t you? Normally I would be the one pushing my luck while you drew boundaries.”

  “Maybe,” I said lazily, leaning still closer into his embrace as we twirled across the blindingly bright dance floor. “How else was I supposed to survive the company of so many idiots? The more time I spend with people like that, the more I appreciate you.”

  Leoth opened his mouth as though to speak and instead shook his head. We danced in silence for the next few rounds, our bodies molding together each time the steps brought us close; I could feel his arousal, and I drank in the desire and affection in his warm black eyes, the shape of his smiling lips.

  In a few short days, he would no longer be mine.

  When the dance wound to a halt, I clung to Leoth, no longer caring who saw us. He seemed just as reluctant to let me go, but at last he lifted my hand gently from his waist and guided me to the edge of the room.

  “I think you should sit down for a moment. Give the mulled wine a rest.”

  “No, I need to keep looking for supporters!”

  Leoth laughed softly. “I don’t think your persuasive skills are at their best just now. Eat some fruit or some chocolate, and I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  He led me to a seat and fetched me a plate overflowing with slices of apple, orange, and even a few winter strawberries from Larkhaven.

  “Have you not been drinking?” I asked with disappointment as he kissed my hand and turned to go.

  He paused. “I’m as drunk as you are, my darling.” He grinned back at me. “I just have much more practice than you do.”