The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “How can you bring me here and ask me that?” I demanded, stricken by James's brazen question.

  “Why won't you answer?” James demanded, his expression still calculated but not cold.

  “Why would you even be concerned with the answer now?” I shot back.

  “Because you ran away with the king's ex-wife who has tried to kill him at least twice now. I don't know if she filled your head with lies or if you believe her because of things you experienced yourself. Either way, it's a terrible situation. And I think that's quite a good reason to be suspicious.”

  “Right, because your job is to protect the king at all costs, isn't it? And damn anyone to hell who gets in the way of that.”

  James stayed silent, folding his strong arms over his chest but keeping his eyes locked on mine. And there, in the silence, I saw how much he loved Archer. I could see how far he would go to protect his king and all they stood for together. Archer was much more than a cruel ruler to James. They were brothers in arms. And he had almost lost his brother twice.

  He would never let it happen again.

  “I don't know what I would've done,” I breathed, feeling my shoulders sag with defeat. James would not let this go, and I knew I would not win against him. “Ella told me that Archer was going to kill me. When I agreed to escape with her, she said that if he caught me after I had run away, both she and I would surely be dead. He has every right to kill me if he wants to. After abandoning him and that contract, I had given him a more reasonable motive. He owns me in all the ways he can. And who am I anyway? Who I am to any of my subjects? Who am I to this kingdom or the ground I walk on? Not a single soul would defend me if he wanted me dead. So, I don't know, James. I don't know what I would've done if I had come across him while I had that blade in my hand.”

  James stayed silent for a long time, just watching me watch him. He remained stoic and emotionless for a couple of moments. I had no idea what he was thinking, which bothered me because he used to wear his emotions so clearly around me. I had just confessed that I could have killed my own husband if I had been given the chance after he had told me that Archer's safety came before everything and everyone. I had already spent so much time living a lie, and I refused to do it now. I didn't even know how I felt about the confession, but I knew it was true regardless.

  Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, James let out a slow breath and, his whole expression shifted into one that I understood. One that I knew. Those brown eyes were soft and considerate once more. Those serious hard lines in his face were now replaced with an expression of gentle compassion.

  “But you saved his life. You dove in front of the blade weilded by woman you trusted,” James whispered.

  “I did,” I agreed. “I saved his life when I thought I couldn't possibly hate him anymore than I already did.”

  “I'm so sorry that she made you so afraid of the king when you obviously love him so much,” James murmured.

  I wanted to tell him that it hadn't just been Ella who had terrified me. She had aggressively nurtured the tormented seeds that everyone else had placed in my mind, but it certainly was not her fault alone. Archer had been cruel and distant for several months before I had even met Ella. His constant dismissal of me had me deeply insecure about our relationship before his behavior became even more questionable. Archer's father had attempted to be kinder than his wife, but both of them had also pulled away from me when I needed their advice most. And James turned me away when all I wanted to do was comfort my ill husband. All of the people I had trusted in the palace had either been taken away from me or had turned on me. But I couldn't bring myself to say any of those things. Not yet. The pain was still too raw and too real.

  I just turned back to Jester and distracted myself with the beautiful creature who had loved me when no one else had. I knew that I could forgive anyone who had wronged me in due time. I just wasn't about to say those words yet. Not even to my sweet James.

  After I had given Jester one of the most thorough grooming of his life—which took well over an hour—I decided that it was time to head back. My body felt much better and much more capable of daily activities, but I didn't want to push myself too hard. I didn't want to be stuck back in that bed with doctors watching my every breath. Besides, the more I rested, the sooner I would be able to ride Jester in lazy laps around the pasture again and have nice long baths. Right now, nothing sounded better than that.

  I nodded my head at James when I was ready to return, and we walked back to the palace in comfortable silence. Not everything had been fixed between us, but at least we understood each other a little better now. When he was ready, he would apologize, and I would have a choice to make then.

  When we made it back to my bedroom James, remained outside, and I was surprised to find that Archer was not nestled on his usual armchair by the fireplace and facing my bed so he could monitor me at all times. After I finally spotted him, I was more astonished. He was lying on his stomach with his arms extended underneath my bed, whispering something to himself as he wiggled around like a child who didn't know how to crawl. It was quite a sight to see my serious husband flat on his stomach in a deep blue shirt and well-fitted breeches acting like a toddler. My maids pretended they didn't notice this, but Isabelle's eyes kept darting over to Archer, and Jasmine looked just as perplexed as I felt.

  “Can I help you with something?” I asked, already expecting the worst out of his strange behavior. I even stood a few paces back, just in case.

  “Oh, Willow,” Archer said, awkwardly moving away from my bed and positioning himself onto his knees. The bright grin that stretched across his face eased the concern I had felt but only encouraged the confusion to grow. “Sorry, I just lost something,” he confessed. He threw his hands up in a defeated gesture, but the grin didn't leave his face.

  “Under my bed?” I challenged.

  “Yes, oddly enough,” he continued, not fazed by the sour tone in my voice. He looked at my ruffled bed, gave out a lazy sigh, and shrugged his broad shoulders, still looking oddly boyish. “I'm sure I will find it later.”

  And just as he turned his attention back to me fully, a tiny furry creature darted out from under my bed, racing away only to dive under my vanity. The little orange ball had moved so quickly that I hadn't even been able to identify what it was.

  “What is that?” I gasped, half horrified, half delighted. This was the most exciting thing to happen to me in ages, but I remained glued in one spot, uncertain of what to do.

  Archer moved much faster than I did, already by the vanity and pulling the little creature out, holding it against his chest in triumph. The little ball of fluff was less than thrilled to be held by my husband, and it let out a disgruntled hiss as it wiggled and squirmed in his arms. I saw little paws reach out and bat at his chest to no avail and little sharp teeth that tried to look threatening.

  “Is that a kitten?” I breathed, striding towards him with exhilaration. Of all my years living on the farm, I had never seen a kitten. All of the cats that wandered on our land tended to be old and anti-social. Their only purpose had been killing mice, and they weren't always terribly good at that either. I had always wanted a little kitten, but I had never bothered to ask my master for one as I knew what the answer would be.

  “It is,” Archer answered, extending the wriggling animal towards me. He seemed equally excited to offer the kitten to me as he was to rid himself of it.

  “For me?” I whispered, immediately taking it anyway. Its fur was wonderfully soft under my fingers, and I stared down at the tiny pink nose and the large green eyes that greeted me. This kitten was just as cute as I had imagined, and I felt happiness warm my soul.

  “Yes, I thought it might be nice for you to have a companion that can stay with you in the house,” he answered. “I know being in the same room with little to do can get tedious and boring. Something this energetic might help pass the time.”

  His eye
s were bright with excitement, and they reflected the contentment that I felt in my chest. I briefly considered thanking him for his thoughtful gesture; it was certainly the sweetest thing he had ever done for me, but I was unable to make myself say the words. I just held the sweet orange kitten closer to my chest and laughed softly when its little paws played with my long blonde hair. I was certain that Archer was right. This little ball of fur would help pass the time.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The next morning, I was a little surprised when I awoke to the feeling of my bed dipping downwards. When Archer and I had been sleeping together regularly, it had been such a common occurrencethat it was almost comforting, but now it raised alarms as I had been alone for so long. My eyes burst open, and I sucked in a breath of shock, expecting my maids or Andrew. And, there, sitting on the edge of my bed, was Archer.

  “Good morning, Willow,” he greeted with an uneasy smile. He moved like he wanted to kiss me or touch me but thought better of it and leaned away.

  “Good morning,” I responded. I adjusted myself into a sitting position with a certain amount of tenderness, still mindful of my back. “What are you doing here?”

  My directness made Archer falter. His mouth opened and closed several times before he simply gestured to a tray of food that he had set on my night stand.

  “Thank you for bringing me breakfast,” I said, suspiciously eyeing the second cup of tea that was settled on the tray. Yes, his gesture yesterday had been kind, but a kitten would not fix everything.

  Archer followed my gaze and quickly moved to hand me one of the cups after he had splashed a small amount of cream and some sugar into it. I gave him a slight nod, and as I began sipping the warm liquid—a little disgruntled that he had made it so perfectly to my preference—he picked up the second cup and took a small drink.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “You aren’t too exhausted after spending so much time in the barns, are you?”

  “No. In fact, I think being outside and keeping my mind occupied has helped with the healing process. Through having a happy mind, I feel like I have encouraged my body back into a healthier state more quickly than if I had been cooped up inside.”

  Archer’s eyes never left my face, and he was nodding along attentively, but my distrust didn’t leave. “Why do you ask?”

  Inopportunely, Archer was too distracted with another predicament to answer.

  “No. Bad kitty,” he chided with true frustration as my newly acquired orange puff ball began climbing up his trousers.

  “He’s very curious,” I stated, a little amused that such a small creature could be so bothersome to the great and powerful king.

  “It seems he is. Unfortunately, he also has very sharp claws,” he grunted as my kitten crested his knee.

  I watched with moderate pleasure as Archer pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek in agitation, and my kitten only stared up at him with the most innocent green eyes. Annoyed but otherwise unbothered, Archer took a bowl of porridge off the tray and set it on his lap. His eyes stared down at the contents of the bowl for some time ,and I could also see the gears in his mind working. He was here for a reason, but he couldn’t find the right words to say the the things that he really felt. Before Ella’s manipulation—before he allowed his father to make decisions for him—I might’ve tried to ease his anxiety, but, now, I just let him fester in his own thoughts.

  “I know that things aren’t. . . “ He stopped abruptly and let out a groan. When I looked at the creature that was terrorizing him, I saw that my kitten had placed a single paw in the king’s dish and was now licking oatmeal off of his pads. “For something so tiny, he can be quite unbearable.”

  “Why are you here, Archer?” I demanded, becoming a little annoyed with his distractions.

  His brown eyes searched my face. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I remained still and impassive. And while I was attempting to be cold and stoic, Archer was blatantly displaying his emotions.

  Fear. Concern. Compassion.

  “I would like to spend a few hours with you this morning. I have something I would like to show you,” he finally admitted, but then added, “However, if you are too tired, I completely understand. We can reschedule it for another day. I don’t want you to push yourself and undo all of the progress we have achieved.”

  “Some more time outside would be lovely. It’s getting colder, and I would like to enjoy the sunshine while it’s still here,” I encouraged.

  Archer allowed me to dress in privacy which gave me an opportunity to push him once more. When he suggested that he call my maids in to help me into a dress, I told him I could manage just fine on my own. And it was because I had no intention of wearing a corset or even a dress, for that matter. I dug through my armoire until I found the pair of breeches and the men’s shirt I had once smuggled into the palace. Remembering his reaction the last time I wore it brought a small smile to my face.

  “I’m ready,” I announced when I floated into the hallway in my attire.

  Archer had been waiting for me, casually leaning against the wall and talking to his guards. I watched as his men stiffened and their eyes widened. They were prepared for their king’s harsh words that would inevitably follow my defiance. I slowly raised my chin, ready to counter anything he would throw at me.

  But my husband just smiled softly at my clothing. His eyes drifted upwards and downwards repeatedly, but that little grin never left.

  “Seems you are. Come, let’s go,” he said, offering me his elbow.

  I was a little stunned when Archer led me outside but did not steer me towards the garden. I thought his idea of an outing would be a quiet stroll and as little physical work as possible. Though I was mending, his worry was not lessening. For today, it seemed, his worry was taking a break. Instead, we went straight to the pasture where Jester usually frolicked. I supposed it made sense; he knew my old beast made me happy.

  But my old horse was not in my line of vision.

  “Oh no! Jester hates almost all the horses here.” I groaned when I saw another horse grazing in his pasture. The creature was a beautiful dappled grey, but I didn’t waste more than a couple of seconds looking at it. My eyes searched for my beloved beast, expecting to find him lurking in a far corner with his ears back and his eyes focused. Instead, when I opened the gate and slipped inside, I noticed him standing directly beside the horse grazing quietly. “Wow, someone found Jester a friend. It’s even a draft horse.”

  “I thought Nefertiti would make a nice companion for Jester,” Archer mused, following me inside the pasture.

  “You did this?”

  “Of course. You were right. The last time I took you out for a ride, my horse was ill suited for Jester. Most hot-blooded horses drive these calm draft horses mad. When you were gone, Jester became quite lonely. I knew I needed to get him a companion.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure he’s very grateful,” I managed, unsure of how to take yet another kind and thoughtful gesture.

  “I also hoped that when you returned to me, we could maybe try to have another ride together,” Archer whispered, turning to face me. I said nothing, only watching him. “Not now, of course. But when you’re back is better, I would love nothing more than to ride alongside you.”

  “My injury is not the issue,” I muttered.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  A few days trickled by nicely. Archer was slowly moving himself out of my bedroom more, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but I never said a word. I had overhead him speaking to James when he thought I was asleep, saying that it was time he went back to fulfilling his duties. I was mending well, and he felt he was falling behind on what the kingdom expected of him. I appreciated his reason for moving back to his own room, and I was actually quite relieved by the fact that he would finally be getting proper sleep more regularly. But, sometimes, when I woke up alone, my heart clenched with loneliness, ju
st like it had when I had been living with Andrew and it would take a few moments to shake the feeling away.

  Oatmeal—my kitten—also kept me on my toes. I spent a lot of my time on my knees, reaching under my furniture to find him, but I still had to be a little careful not to strain my injury. It seemed that whenever I wanted to simply snuggle, Oatmeal would disappear under something and stay hidden until I sighed and gave up. But once my pursuit ceased and I nestled myself on my armchair to sew or read, he would climb onto my lap and begin purring with pleasure. It became very clear that I was only to give him attention on his terms, but I hardly minded this stipulation. He made the maids giggle in delight, and he often brought a smile to my face so it was more than a fair trade.

  James also milled around my room more frequently. Before, he had been strictly on duty in the hallway, and I would only spend time with him when he guided me somewhere. But, now, he would walk into my bedroom leisurely, chat with my maids, and then pull out a pastry that he had snuck from the kitchen. Somehow, he always managed to bring my favorites, and it was impossible to say no to him. Though neither of us said anything, it was clear that our relationship was getting stitched back together. I knew there was a chance it would never be the same, but I could admit that I was glad it was progressing in the right direction once more. It felt good to have companions back in my life, new ones and old ones.

  One day, James handed me something to sate my sweet tooth, but I could see the anxiety clearly on his face. His brow didn't even unfurrow when Oatmeal hissed and attacked his boot laces. I just took the pastry from his hand and placed it down on the small table near my armchair.

  “What is it?” I whispered, already fearing the worst.

  James sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, but the anxiety didn't leave his features. It had been a long time since I had seen him like this.

  “The king would like a word with you.”