She smiled. "That sounds nice, but I'm still interested in this mistake you think I'm making."
"I don't think you should marry Josiah." He still wasn't looking at her, and she felt embarrassment coming from him. What did he have to be embarrassed about? It wasn't like he'd have to live through another horrible wedding night.
"Why not?" She was curious about this. What difference did it make to him who she married or why?
"I don't want to see you stuck with a man you don't love for the rest of your life." He still didn't look at her but busied himself with the bundle.
"You weren't bothered when I was going to be Killian's bride," she said.
He stopped unwrapping the fabric and met her eyes. "I didn't know you then. You were just some random Princess."
"And now?" Her heart began to pound, wondering what he would say. She couldn't feel any more emotions coming from him. This could only be if he was keeping them from her. He was adept enough to do such a thing, but why? What did he fear from her?
"Now I know you," he said. "You're someone I've come to care about." His face reddened, and he went back to unwrapping the bowl.
A moment later, he pulled a half-sphere made from marble out of the plain fabric. Swirls of at least four shades of green and another three or four of blue mingled and seemed to dance over the glassy smooth surface. Minute sparkles flashed and disappeared as he set the bowl on the table.
The inside of the object was as flawlessly polished as the outside, and she could see that the flashes had been caused by the candlelight reflecting off tiny gemstones embedded in the marble.
"Oh, Gideon." Her voice came out no louder than a whisper. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"That might be a bit of an exaggeration," he said, his voice as soft as hers. "It's only a bowl. Not a woman." He picked up the bowl and handed it to her.
It was lighter than she expected a bowl made out of marble to be, and the stone was cool and smooth. She ran her fingers along the rim and explored the concave interior. No scratches or imperfections were apparent even as she stroked the cool surface.
"Was this made by magic?" she wondered, but Gideon shrugged.
"I have no idea how it was made, or even if the Anamii made it themselves. Do they even have the magic or tools to do something like this?"
She took her attention away from the bowl to look at him. "Are you asking me or are you joking?"
Gideon chuckled. "I'm sure you don't know any more than I do. I don't know anything about the Anamii, other than that they live off the coast of Heyton and a few other kingdoms and Aunt Veronica doesn't like them."
Ursula took a deep breath. "She doesn't seem to like many people."
"She is interested in those she considers worthy of her attention. Family members who are perfect, and people who aren't common enough to live under the water."
The Queen laughed. "So I suppose Evangeline's husband wasn't one of her favorite people." She pointed to the painting. "The sign at the bottom of that says it's Duke Everett."
Gideon nodded. "If that's what it says, I suppose it is. He died before I was born, so I would have no way of knowing what he looked like."
Ursula kept her eyes on the portrait. "He looks like a kind man, and he had a nice smile."
"My mother says he was good to Evangeline and loved her very much. That's what's important." He stood, pointing at the bowl with his cane. "Let's see if we can do anything with that."
They went to the large table. Ursula called for Jamison and asked for a pitcher of water.
When it arrived, she handed it to Gideon, who sat in a chair at the end of the table.
"Is there like a ritual or something?" she asked, hovering a bit behind him, not waiting to disturb his process.
He glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. "Not really. I tell the family there is so they'll leave me alone, but come. Sit down."
He took hold of her wrist, and at his touch, she felt a spark shoot through her arm and into her veins. Warmth filled her, and the room shifted a bit.
Gideon showed no reaction, so she blamed the sensation on the lateness of the hour and lack of food. Moving carefully so as not to stumble, she sat in the chair he'd pulled next to him.
He released her wrist, and for moment, she missed the connection. She berated herself for being silly.
"There's very little mystery to what I do," Gideon said, talking like a teacher. "I mean, I suppose magic is mysterious by definition, but I don't do anything complicated."
He poured the water from the pitcher into the bowl. Sooner than Ursula would have expected, the liquid settled, leaving a calm, almost flat, surface.
Gideon turned to her. "I'm hoping that wherever the other bowl is, it has enough water in it for us to figure out where it is. More likely, though, nothing will happen."
She nodded. "I understand that, but I do want to see what you do. I'd like to see if it's something I could duplicate."
"That would be interesting. Think about what we could do if more than one of us had this ability. Maybe we could train other Water Sensitives to do it, and if so, that would open up communication to other kingdoms."
"It would make things easier for Kings and Queens to negotiate treaties." How wonderful would it be to talk to Mariana whenever she wanted. "Maybe it could put an end to wars."
Gideon sighed and shook his head. "I think for that to happen, it would require a total change in the way people think and behave."
"I suppose." This communication idea wouldn't have changed a thing for her father and her family. "Anyway, show me what you can do, Prince Gideon."
He laughed. "After that build up, I'm afraid this will be quite disappointing."
Turning back to the bowl of water, he took a deep breath and let his fingertips touch the surface of the water. He stayed like that for a moment, and Ursula saw the rising and falling of his chest slow.
After a moment, his eyes closed, and he pulled his fingers from the water. She suppressed a gasp as a thin string of liquid followed his hand as he raised it above the rim of the bowl.
Time seemed to slow as she held her breath, watching to see when the water string would break. When it did, after four or five heartbeats, a single drop fell to the bowl, creating a perfect, silent splash.
The surface of the water shimmered, and for an instant, she saw, not the green marble bowl through the clear liquid, but a lush garden filled with flowers in rich hues such as she'd only seen in her dreams.
A woman, dressed in flowing yellow robes, held a basket and was snipping blossoms off plants taller than she was. Through the leaves, Ursula could see fish, swimming or floating in the air.
She rubbed her eyes to clear them, but the image remained.
Gideon opened his eyes, releasing his breath, and opened his mouth, but Ursula held up her hand. "Look."
He gasped, and the image in the water vanished.
"What was that?" she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "What did you do?"
"I don't know," he said, staring at the now plain water. "I've never seen anything like that."
Ursula took Gideon's hand. "Was that an Anamii woman? Was she underwater? I saw fish."
He shook his head, then stopped. "I suppose it's possible. They did give me the bowl. Do you suppose there might be another one like this in their kingdom?"
Chapter 30
Thane was the head of Veronica's private guards now, but twenty-eight years ago, he'd been a young, handsome, ambitious soldier trying to move up the ranks. He'd caught Veronica's eye when the family was on a holiday tour of all her father's military companies when Heyton was still at war with Valborough.
She and Zebulon had just gotten married, but that had been a political arrangement. They'd had nothing in common. King Lucius and Count Milo, Zebulon's father, shared an interest in wine, and the Count owned a large, successful vineyard.
Veronica's marriage was supposed to turn the vineyard, and all the wines produced the
re, to royal control, but the war ravaged that area of the kingdom, leaving only a few vines that offered low quality grapes. The building still stood, and wine was still made, but Lucius gave up his interest in the enterprise after Milo died.
Zebulon took that as an opportunity to spend as much time as possible away from the palace, claiming that he was working to rebuild the family business.
Even though when she met Thane, she'd had no children yet, her relations with her husband were perfunctory at best, arousing no passion and less affection for the man she'd pledged her life to.
On the other hand, one look at the strapping soldier who helped her out of the carriage, and Veronica felt stirrings in her soul she'd never imagined.
Their affair had lasted from that day to this.
When Thane arrived in her room, she saw how the years had marked his face with lines and sags, but his body was still fit, and her heart still beat a touch faster when he gazed at her.
"This is an unexpected surprise," he said, his deep voice rippling through her as though she stood in the center of an earthquake.
"I need to talk about that day," Veronica said, turning her back so she wouldn't succumb to distraction. "The day Evangeline died."
Thane sighed and dropped onto her bed, his legs hanging off the side, and leaning on his elbows.
"Why do you want to talk about that?" he asked. "You are so close to getting everything you want. Put it behind you. There's no sense dredging up ghosts. Come here, and I'll help you forget."
"No. Tell again how it went."
"I've told you this a hundred times. The Princess was at the inn, as you said she would be. She ate her dinner in the main dining room. My men were there, watching."
"Did she talk to anyone? Was she alone?"
Thane tsked. "She had Prince Carsten with her, of course. Are you trying to get me to change my story? After all this time, have you decided you don't trust me?"
"I do trust you." Veronica spun around to look at him. "You know that. I just need to hear it again."
"As you wish. Princess Evangeline spoke only to the serving woman and to one other person. My men said as far as they could tell, she was just another traveler who happened to be staying there. She was alone."
"And you haven't seen her since that day?"
"Where is this question coming from? All the occupants of the inn perished in the fire. Whoever this woman was, she's long dead."
"And you're sure?"
Thane stood and crossed the room to envelope her in his arms. "I am sure. My men and I sifted through the rubble and ashes. All the bodies were accounted for. The innkeeper said he'd had five guests that night, and only one had a baby. We found seven bodies, so with the two serving girls who were too close to the exploding pots, it is finished."
"And you found a baby's body?"
"Why all the questions, my sweet Princess?" He took hold of her shoulders and held her back from him to look in her eyes.
"My other sister, Delthyn, said something tonight about how Evangeline should have jumped out the window with her baby. How could she have known there was a window or that Evangeline wasn't staying on the first floor?"
Thane laughed. "Is that all? Lots of inns have windows, and rarely are their guest rooms on the first floor. My Princess, you're worried for nothing."
She pulled away from him. "Only the child was supposed to die. Your men were just supposed to poison him."
"I told you, we couldn't get close enough. Her guards were waiting outside, and they knew our faces. I made the call to use the kitchen's fire pit. A few oil soaked rags. Problem solved."
"Except I never saw Carsten's body. What if he made it out alive?"
Thane scrunched his eyes in confusion. "A baby? How could that happen? I gave you his birth bracelet. We found it with her locket next to their bodies. Or what was left of them. Surely, that is enough proof."
Veronica stared out her window. It faced in to the circle created by the other cottages. Candles and lamps shone in Evangeline's as Ursula moved around. Perhaps seeing that was what had gotten her imagination spinning out of control.
Of course, Evangeline and Carsten were dead. After twenty-eight years, they would have come back by now if it were otherwise.
She was making herself crazy for no reason.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning to face him again. "I will be better when Josiah is wearing the crown."
"That will be a good day," Thane said, stroking her hair. "I have never slept with a Queen Mother before. I imagine it will be quite thrilling."
Gideon finished a glass of wine Ursula had called for as Dashiell dumped out the water and wiped out the bowl.
"And that has never happened before?" She sat next to him on the sofa, worrying the fabric of her skirt. "Why did it happen now?"
"I can't explain it." He set his wine glass on a side table. "It has to be a fluke. Maybe a reflection of something in the room?"
"You know that's not what it was." She waved her arm around. "There's nothing here that is so colorful, let alone anything with flowers."
It was true, but Gideon knew that. In fact, he didn't want her to know, but what happened startled him more than it had her. Never had he tried to use the bowl when he knew no one was on the other end to receive the message. Therefore, he had no way of knowing if this would have happened before.
"How did you learn to do that? Communicate through the water, I mean?" Ursula stood and began pacing the room.
"There was a scroll that came with the gift of the bowls," Gideon said, thinking back to when he was a child and his grandmother explained all this to him. "It said that was what the bowls were for."
"Why you?" She stopped walking and stood, looking down at him. "You weren't the heir to the throne. Why would the Anamii give the bowls to you?"
He sighed. "From what I remember, it had to do with my father being a Water Sensitive. The Anamii saw my father's Ability as a way to connect to the King, since no one else in the palace has that Sensitivity. Possibly, they were looking to forge an alliance or at least more tolerance." If only that had been the case.
"So, did they expect you to be able to communicate with them?"
"Ursula," he said, growing tired of this whole thing, "I don't know what they expected. I've never spoken to any of them, so I have no idea why they gave the bowls to me. Now can you please come back and sit down?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dashiell grin and go outside, leaving the two of them alone.
Ursula sat. "I can't believe you're taking this so calmly. You might have connected with another bowl somewhere. Maybe in the Anamii palace." She raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands under her chin. "Wouldn't that be exciting?"
"Ursula, calm down." He took her hands away from her body and held them on the sofa. Her skin was so soft, he was loath to release them. In fact, he had to keep from raising them to his lips.
Sometimes he hated propriety. He pulled his thoughts back to the situation at the moment.
He sighed and said, "There's no reason to think that was anything more than a trick of the light or maybe something I'd seen once projected, for a moment, into the water."
She blinked. "Could we, I mean, you, try it again?"
He sighed. "Not tonight. I need to think about all this."
"Why aren't you more excited?"
"I told you before. This water communication thing has always felt like a parlor trick, like I'm a trained dog that the family brings out to impress visitors. I've never explored what I might be able to do with it, because, frankly, I hate that this is the only thing my family thinks I'm good at. Anything I do figure out will be one more thing that makes me different, odd." He sighed. "Not perfect enough to be a Knight Prince."
She relaxed but didn't take her hands away from his. He wondered if she even realized he was stroking her skin with his thumb.
"I don't think you're a misfit," she said gently. She turned her hand over so their palms were nestled toge
ther. "Anyone who can't see how special you are must be completely blind."
"Special? You mean odd."
She shook her head. "I mean, strong and smart. Kind and gentle." Slowly, she took one hand and cupped his cheek. "Handsome, too."
"Uncle Killian must have been a smarter man than I gave him credit for." He leaned closer to her. "He chose a wise and beautiful Queen."
Then, before he could think about what he was doing or what the consequences might be, he kissed her.
After Gideon and Dashiell left, Ursula wandered around the cottage, trying not to think about that kiss.
She had been kissed before. When she was younger, single noblemen had danced with her or taken her on walks through the royal gardens in an attempt to win her favor. She'd encouraged this behavior, hoping that she'd find a high ranking man who cared nothing for her sister's perceived Insensitivity.
Oftentimes, these walks or dances would end up in the corner of the ballroom, behind plants or in small alcoves hidden from the rest of the room by dividers or curtains. Many stolen kisses, more than her mother would have approved of, took place only a few feet from the other guests.
As a strong Sensitive and daughter of the King, she'd attracted more than her share of admirers. And she'd loved the attention.
Kissing, on the other hand, from her experience, was less enjoyable than dancing in full view of all of her friends and family, or holding hands secretly, the connection hidden in the folds of her skirt.
Her suitors kissed her like she was the main course at a banquet, and they hadn't eaten in days. The more unlikely discovery was, the wetter and noisier the kisses were. Sometimes, Ursula had to excuse herself afterward to wash her face or swish her mouth with ginger water to keep from being sick.
For years, she'd believed there was something wrong with her, because her sister Liliana and all her friends talked about kissing as though it were better than new clothes. However, when George Evan began courting her, she realized the fault was in the other men.
Questionable Queen Page 29