The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  “Yes.” She scanned the room intensely, her eyes missing nothing as she searched for danger.

  “We are the only ones in the library,” I assured. “Everything you say here will stay with you and me only.”

  I could've been lying, just as she could've been lying about being the first wife, but there was a moment of hostile understanding. For this to work, we both needed to respect the delicate balance that surrounded us.

  Ella swallowed hard, appearing nervous, but she forced herself to speak regardless, trusting me. “As you know, the king and I were married for some time. He was a lovely husband at first, and I thought that the community loved us very much. Everything seemed to be going well until one night . . .” She choked, and I saw tears in her captivating eyes.

  “Please, go on,” I encouraged. I was no longer angry at her, but my mind was now filled with concern and dread. What could she have to say that was so awful, and why did it concern me?

  “I can't,” she whispered, quickly wiping her tears.

  We stayed quiet for a moment as I allowed her to collect herself. All I could think about was the potential things my husband could've done to her to make her so upset, and it broke my heart. But, now, seeing how he was with me, all the vivid images in my mind didn't seem the slightest bit unbelievable. For a while, I believed he was a kind man who put on a cruel act to keep others at bay. Now, I believed the opposite was true.

  “I know the king would kill me if he saw me here,” Ella managed. I could tell by her tone she wasn't exaggerating. She genuinely thought my husband would kill her on sight, and that only deepened my curiosity. “But I had to come. Once Matthew told me what was going on, I had to make sure that I told you what happened to me. I had to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “Your husband.” Ella took a shaky breath. “Matthew told me that the king is now avoiding you. He explained to me that the king treated you well for several months and that you two seemed very happy together. At least, that's what Matthew claims.”

  “Who is Matthew?” I demanded, already becoming lost in her words.

  “He was my guard while I was queen. He has been in contact with me without the king's knowledge. I couldn't live in this palace with the king, but I still love many of the people inside its walls. I became wary when Matthew told me the king had a new wife, but as I said, he explained that everything seemed to be going well. It wasn't until recently that he told me the king was becoming distant with you. That's when I began worrying and started dropping by more often instead of just my yearly visit to Cleopatra. But I couldn't find the courage to meet with you because I knew that there was a good chance you would go to the king with what I told you just now and he would find me. Now, it seems you have found me so I may as well tell you the truth before you call for your guards.

  “You see, when I was queen, my story was very similar to yours. My husband was kind and sweet. He gave me whatever I could possibly want to keep me happy and spent as much time with me as I could handle. It was heavenly, and I thought I could want nothing more. At least, that's how it seemed at first.”

  I thought about my relationship with the king in the beginning. He had not behaved that way at all, but I said nothing, not wanting to derail Ella. I doubted she had come here to tell me how in love the king had been with her, though it still hurt me to hear it.

  “But as time went on, he became angrier and more distant. I didn't understand why, and it was so gradual at first that I almost didn't believe it was happening. I thought I was simply going mad because I was doing everything right as a wife and a queen, and I began working hard to please him and our subjects. It didn't matter how much time and effort I put in. It seemed like the more I pushed, the less he wanted to do with me. I slowly became depressed, and he eventually stopped spending time with me all together.”

  Her words rang true for my relationship. We hardly saw each other anymore.

  “I didn't understand why for a long time. I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was the perfect queen for him and the best wife any woman could possibly be. But, as time went on, it became clear. I had not become pregnant at any point throughout our marriage, and it infuriated him.”

  For a moment, I feared so honestly that my heart had stopped. I placed my hand on my chest and was startled to feel my heart pounding rapidly beneath it. His mother had told me something similar and the expression on his face when the doctors told him I still wasn't with child was confirmation enough.

  “I'm not with child either,” I confessed.

  Ella placed her hand on top of my knee, her eyes soft and sincere. “I know. That is why I came to warn you. You see, as time went on, my husband was no longer attentive to me, making it impossible for me to have a child with him. But it didn't matter. One day, I heard him speak about a king in France, one who beheaded the wives who were unable to give him children. I thought nothing of it; he frequently made inappropriate comments like that to James. I was a fool for not listening. Within the next month, I was thrown into the dungeon, far underground, and given no food. Now, I knew what was coming because of what I had heard. It was no longer some joke he and James shared. It was going to be my death. The only reason I didn't meet the same fate as the French queens was because Matthew came and released me. He risked his life to open my cell that night, and I will never forget it. It was a miracle neither of us were caught. He had managed to live on in the palace, but I had to leave, and every time I visit, I do so in secrecy, fearing that if the king finds me . . .”

  I couldn't believe my ears.

  “Archer would never,” I protested.

  Ella just watched me sympathetically, her head cocking to the side.

  “I'm his mate,” I continued, desperation dripping in my voice.

  Ella's expression changed for a split second, but the sympathy returned before I could determine what she was feeling.

  “That is what he told me too,” she whispered, sounding wounded. “You can choose to believe me or not. I will understand your choice either way, but I would've felt awful if he had . . . beheaded you, and you didn't even know why.”

  “Thank you,” I managed, feeling dangerously close to tears. “I am so grateful you risked your safety to tell me this, but I think you should go now before we both get caught.” My voice sounded automatic and controlled when I felt the exact opposite.

  She stood up immediately, seeming grateful for my dismissal. “Good bye and be safe, my queen,” Ella whispered as she dropped into a deep curtsy.

  I thought I should get up and make sure she has a clear exit; she had risked so much for me so I should protect her in return. But I couldn't make myself move. I couldn't even lift my eyes off the carpet. Once she was gone, I let out a strangled scream then began sobbing uncontrollably.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I spent another few days mulling over the vile conspiraries and carefully gaining more information on the ex-wife. I thought the task would be harder than it actually was. I thought the king would've ordered all traces of her to be removed or destroyed. She had publicly humiliated him by running away. But it was not so. When she left, she didn’t take everything with her; there were still pieces of her in the palace, and I didn’t know if that was comforting to hold the truth or disturbing that someone who only lived in my imagination and the king’s tales had now come to life.

  My tutor seemed very surprised when I asked about her but did show me a portrait that had been painted of her and a few books that had very brief mentions of her during her rule. A large part of me was hoping that the woman was entirely a fake, some stranger just claiming to be the woman who abandoned my husband and was now coming after me for some peculiar reason. But the massive portrait that hung in the very back end of the library did not tell lies, and it looked just like the woman who had spoken with me. Beautiful, elegant, and graceful. No, it didn’t prove everything, but it was certainly a step in her favour.

  Though there was
very little written in the books about the first wife, I was still furious with what I found. I read a brief entry about the lavish wedding my husband had shared with her. It explained how so many guests had filled the palace, everyone’s delight to see the happy couple, and the amazing feasts for the several weeks that followed. The bride's family and friends filled almost all of the guest rooms, surrounding the newlyweds with love and compassion, and commoners filled the gardens when permitted, hoping to get a glimpse of the famed and adored couple. And, even after their wedding, she was still deeply loved by the people, though there were no mentions of her doing anything heroic or bold. It seemed she was just a very magnetic creature. She was someone who had been designed to be loved.

  The description of when she left was limited at best. It claimed the king went into some kind of frenzy but didn't directly explain his actions. Damage had been done to a section of the palace, but the outburst had only been inside the palace walls, so no nobles or commoners knew the true extent of the king's rage, and the palace had since been repaired. The book detailed the king's actions in royal court, when he explained to his subjects that the queen was gone and would not be returning and how more power was transferred back to him in her absence. But it didn't explain why she left or how she managed to escape without anyone finding out until morning. It was like the beauty of their relationship was all that mattered, and the destruction that followed was irrelevant.

  Now, I could not deny that the woman who had approached me was, in fact, the runaway queen. But I still didn't know if I could trust her.

  No, Archer was not currently being a very good husband. Saying he was distant and uninterested would be an understatement. I felt neglected and unwanted like never before. However, that didn’t make him an evil creature and definitely didn’t make him a potential murderer. At least, that’s what I wanted to believe. I had to find a way to extract information from the king without causing him to become suspicious. Seeing that I hardly saw the man anymore, I knew it was going to be a very intense challenge, but I was prepared to work through this delicate situation to get the answers I deserved.

  I took my time, reminding myself that I had at least a few more weeks before the king decided to dispose of my childless body. I wasn't entirely certain on that front, but I had to believe it to keep myself from becoming frantic and, therefore, sloppy. Though he had always been a king, I didn’t think I had ever been truly aware of my vulnerability in this position. One wave of his hand and I could be killed off. It could happen at any time, and I was beginning to think that if the former wife was telling the truth, I might not have ample time left.

  I suggested to my maids that I would like to see the king in the most casual manner I could muster, and they relayed the message to the guards who were stationed outside my door. The men informed us that they would see if the king was available, but they didn't return until late that evening, both of them looking exhausted. I didn't even bother asking them if I would be allowed to see my husband; I already knew the answer.

  Then I targeted the former queen and her husband, hoping the kindness and assistance they had once offered would be restored. I was granted permission to go to their manor house, which was beyond what I had expected seeing that I hadn't spoken to them in months and every time I saw them, they only shot me glares. I was polite when chatting with the former queen, flashing her my bright smiles, but she didn't seem to be enthused by my visit. In fact, it was her husband who carried most of the conversation, and he didn't seem very thrilled with my arrival either. He was just more polite while his wife was silently seething, though I couldn't understand why. Still, I often mentioned how much I missed spending time with my husband and how he was so busy now in the hopes that they would be thoughtful enough to mention it to the king, and I would actually be allowed to speak with him. It was a long shot because they both seemed very uninterested in anything I had to say, especially when it came to their son. In fact, at the mention of seeing Archer, the former king’s eyes snapped to my face, and his jaw clenched. Shortly after that, I was escorted out of the manor.

  ***

  Several days after my visit with the previous ruling couple, I still heard nothing from my husband, my maids, or my guards regarding the possibility of seeing the king in the near future. It seemed that if I wanted an audience with the king, I would have to fight for one myself.

  But when I did actually see my husband for the first time in months, it wasn't intentional.

  I had been milling around the palace, bored beyond belief after spending my afternoon with Jester and thinking about a way to sneak into my husband's room. I had been so mindless that I hadn't even realized that I had passed the king's quarters, but it made sense that my legs took me there since he was all I was thinking about. It wasn't until I saw a large group of guards moving as one unit that recognition kicked in.

  “Queen Willow, what are you doing out at this late hour?” James demanded, startling me.

  I knew that he had been placed in a different line of duty since he was no longer my guard, but it stung a little that he was now the personal guard for the man who was currently causing me so much agony.

  “I wanted to walk around the palace after spending some time with Jes—”

  My words were interrupted by a low groan.

  All of the guards turned their attention to the center of the circle. My eyes could only follow, and they landed on my husband. But he didn’t look like the man I hosted teas with and took me out for trips away from the palace.

  He was sickly pale. His usually warm brown skin was white, and he was hunched over awkwardly, clutching his stomach. It seemed like the strong and willful spirit who dragged me around the palace grounds when I misbehaved had vanished, leaving only a weakened skeleton behind. He had lost so much weight since I had last seen him. His cheek bones were prominent now, his wrists jutting out from under his shirt sleeves, and his broad shoulders were reduced into an uncomfortable hunching position. He wasn't wearing his crown like he often did; he was wearing clothing that was more suited for sleeping than anything else. And it looked like if his clothes were any heavier or an extra ounce of weight was settled upon his head, he would simply crumple to the floor.

  “Archer,” I gasped, all of the anger seeping out of me. My first instinct was to go to him and hold him tightly in my arms, though I knew I should still be furious.

  “He is fine. You need to return to your room at once,” James replied, but he didn’t sound so certain.

  I gawked at my former guard in shock, but I didn't see his compassionate chocolaty eyes anymore or the slight smile that always pulled at his lips. He was hardened. His shoulders squared up as he stepped in front of me, shielding my husband from my view. He would've been frightening if he wasn't the same man who snuck food into my bedroom and held me under a tree when I felt like I was falling apart. But beneath all of his intensity, I could see something else.

  Fear.

  “He's not fine,” I protested, dodging around him. I needed to get closer to my husband. I needed to know what was wrong so I could help him.

  “Keep her away from me,” my husband pleaded, but his voice was so rough, it actually sounded painful. A second later, he dropped to his knees and began making awful sounds, like he was trying to vomit but couldn't.

  It took me several seconds to realize he was talking about me.

  I had told this man about my life as a slave. I had told him that I felt unwanted my whole life. I let him see the disgusting scars that circled my ankles and let him stroke my sun-damaged hair as I cried over things he would never understand. I had worked hard to be the perfect queen for him, despite the fact that I was raised to be anything other than royal. I had let him control almost every aspect of my life ever since I moved into the castle. For quite some time now, I had stopped seeing him as an angry owner and, instead, saw him as a wonderful companion and lover.

  But, right now, he didn’t want me.

  “I have done no
thing but been a good wife to you,” I snapped, steeping around the second guard to storm towards my weak husband. The worry I had felt for him evaporated. I would not tolerate his words. My legs moved on their own accord as fury pulsed through me. “You forced me into marriage. You constantly used the fact that you purchased me to get me to bend to your will, and after months of—”

  Something cold touched my throat, silencing me mid-sentence.

  Archer’s right-hand guard stood impossibly still, his eyes dark with intense seriousness. His sword was extended, barely touching the delicate skin on my neck, but the threat was more than clear to me. The man who had sworn to defend the king was now against me, prepared to keep me away from my husband by any means possible.

  “Return to your quarters. The king does not wish to see you at this time,” the guard hissed out. He didn't look apologetic, and he didn't move the sword away.

  “I am the queen,” I spat back.

  “I answer to the king. No one else. The queen will answer to me if I am fulfilling the king's wishes,” the guard snarled. “Now you can either go back to your chambers on your own will or I can have you dragged there. It is your choice, Queen Willow.”

  “I need to speak with my husband, whether you approve or not,” I argued.

  “Very well.” He nodded to a bulky man who immediately maneuvered his way behind me.

  Though I wanted to scream and yell at every single man in that brigade—especially Archer’s right-hand man—I stayed perfectly silent as my arms got pulled behind my back. I just stared at James who slowly turned away as my wrists were loosely bound in a rough rope. Once the final knot was tightened down, enough to be considered secure, another guard came to my side, and together, the two men pulled me away from James and my husband.

  Chapter Thirty-Three