Queen's Guard 01 The Queen's Guard: Violet

by Traci E Hall

  “Sarah is to ensnare Emperor Manuel. I’ve got that nicely formed John Axuch.” Mamie rubbed her hands together. “Fay and Catherine have the maids.” She fluttered a scarf at them. “You don’t have to bed them for information, all right, girls? But if it helps, do what you can for the queen.”

  Fay lifted her gaze toward heaven. “I’m praying for your soul, Mamie.”

  “My thanks, dearest.”

  “And you’re to ask us for help if you need it,” Catherine said, tapping Bella’s hand with an ivory pin. “Please don’t hesitate or think you must do this alone. We’re sisters now. Don’t forget.”

  Bella placed her hand on Catherine’s in gratitude. “I would prove myself worthy.”

  “Now who’s being silly?” Sarah said. “The queen wouldn’t have chosen you as one of her guard out of pity. She saw your worth, as do we.”

  Bella twisted a silver ring around her finger. “Catherine can entrance and draw, and you, Sarah, know everything about poisons.”

  “Because my father was an alchemist,” Sarah said modestly.

  “You have the best aim of any of us, and you’re a good listener,” Catherine countered.

  “I could teach you a few things guaranteed to make a man spill his … secrets,” Mamie said with a raised brow.

  Fay snickered, her mind not as snowy white as her body was pure. “Mamie! Bella will find her own style. I had no idea I’d be good at disguise until I was almost caught and had to escape a castle dressed as an acrobat. Since then I’ve been a dwarf, a barrel of ale, and a princess from a foreign land. Who knew being plain would turn out so well in my favor?” She shrugged and put her hand out. “This is the last curl, Catherine. Pin.”

  Far from plain, Fay was more a chameleon who could be whatever or whoever she needed to be. Bella envied her friend’s natural ability to blend. The daisy was the perfect flower for the seemingly simple young woman.

  “Stop worrying,” Sarah advised with a smile. “I’ve laid out your gown for tonight, the light blue with the silver trim. Remember to sit on the same side of the table as Jonathon does. I’ve asked him to arrange the seating if he can. I want him near you if there is a problem.”

  “What’s your plan, Bella?” Catherine tilted her perfectly coiffed head. “How are you going to capture Raoul’s interest?”

  Bella pressed her fingertips together. “I don’t think I should mention the swimming incident. That could prove to be awkward.”

  “You mean he saw you?” Fay gasped, gray eyes wide. “That’s a different pot of fish.”

  “What did he say?” Catherine’s mouth twitched.

  Throat tight, Bella swallowed. “He asked me to, er, join him on the sand.”

  “I knew I’d like that man!”

  Ignoring Mamie’s outburst, Bella continued, “I declined and then ran.” Before I could change my mind.

  “Well done. You stayed true to your character. The queen says that though he sleeps with whores, his tender feelings are saved for petite ladies with ebony hair and fair skin.” Sarah nodded. “You could have been made just for him. Now what to wear with the gown?”

  “Mamie’s amethyst pendant?” Fay suggested. “And the matching earrings.”

  “Certainly. They are yours to borrow.” Mamie stood.

  “And if you get stuck,” Catherine suggested, “just drop one of the earrings into the soup. We’ll know you need assistance.”

  Bella smiled at her friends even though she was slightly anxious. “I must make him notice me, and that is enough for now. How hard can it be?”

  “I changed my mind,” Mamie said, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “Borrow Catherine’s jewelry if it’s to go into the soup.”

  Raoul dressed for the evening meal, remembering the words of Emperor Manuel, his liege and sometimes friend, insisting he dress appropriately. He tugged at the nubbed silk tunic he’d paired with a belt and black leather pants, hoping this would be dressed enough. He didn’t own anything finer.

  At the last instant, he added a tarnished silver cuff to his wrist. It was his only accessory. Chains around a man’s neck were a hazard. A collar for the enemy to grab. Rings made him uncomfortable. He wanted nothing between his grip and the handle of his weapon.

  Bare flesh made him think of his afternoon swim and the violet-eyed vision on the ledge. Her sweet countenance compelled him to share a meal with the others, something he usually avoided.

  He knew most people didn’t like him. In fact, he cultivated their fear and dislike for a reason. It gave Emperor Manuel another layer of protection from those who might betray him. Trust nobody.

  He’d spent five years paying the price of trust misplaced. His own sister had invited the enemy into her bed. By the time Raoul had heard of the perfidy, Raymond of Antioch had let in the Turks, who had then slaughtered everyone in his village from babe to elder, stolen what they had wanted, and burned the rest to the ground. Raoul and his hunting party had returned home to embers and ash. Stricken with grief, they had tracked down the Turks responsible, killing and fighting like madmen until only Raoul was left alive.

  Bloodlust unsatisfied, he’d joined Emperor Manuel’s army and saved the ruler from being cleaved by a Turkish mongrel. Since then, the emperor had kept him as close as a second skin, and Raoul had paid his debt of shame by killing Turks and protecting the God-blessed emperor from harm, which included their joint enemy, Raymond of Antioch, who so happened to be Queen Eleanor’s uncle.

  With that thought in the forefront of his mind, he left his dimly lit room and went to the dining hall. When he ate with the emperor, he often made a show of tasting the food from Manuel’s plate: a bite, a small swallow as he searched for poisons.

  He would do so this night and seat himself at Manuel’s side. Let the Franks see his emperor knew how to govern men, how to rule.

  Only a day had passed, and already he’d heard rumors of the Crusaders causing trouble outside the walls. King Louis but threatened to cut off the troublemakers’ ears. Raoul shook his head. Why threaten, when action was what motivated men?

  When he arrived at the hall, he found the tables already crowded thanks to the overwhelming number of French Crusaders and their courtiers. It seemed Manuel had removed some of the sting from housing King Louis outside the city walls by choosing to feed and entertain every cursed one of them inside.

  Unsettled, Raoul walked toward the dais. Manuel exuded power in his purple silk robes and ermine stole. A jeweled ring weighted each finger, but it was the two buff-colored leopards on either side of his chair that lent mystique to his royalty.

  As Raoul approached, the two giant cats turned to him in unison. He signaled for them to stay where they were and stopped before Manuel.

  “Nice shirt.” Manuel scratched his chin. “I am going to buy you a bolt of sky-blue fabric.”

  “I’ll donate it to beggars.”

  The emperor grinned. “Forget it. Rumor has it you got into a fight at the training yard today. Some of the men want you barred from the field.”

  “Cowards.” Raoul rolled his shoulders.

  “Raoul. Dirk lost a front tooth, and his wife is not a happy woman.”

  “She married a man who can’t tell his arse from his forehead. Can you blame her?”

  “That’s not all.” Manuel beckoned him and lowered his voice. “Look at the queen’s ladies, the ones who offended you earlier? Beautiful now in their court finest, not a sword among them. Do you see the blonde Amazon with the lily in her hair sitting next to the plump redhead? She keeps giving me the eye.” Manuel brushed his upper lip, glancing toward his wife, Empress Irene, who at the moment conversed with Queen Eleanor. “Suggest she be more subtle, eh?”

  Raoul understood needs of the flesh. The emperor’s needs were more voracious than most. “Do you want her then? I will arrange it.” Just as he had many times before this. John commanded the emperor’s armies; Raoul took care of the more delicate aspects of the emperor’s life. “Should I offe
r coin?”

  “From the way she’s been staring, I don’t think she wants anything but me to fill her pocket.” Emperor Manuel chuckled before returning to his plate stacked with exotic foods meant to awe the French, specifically King Louis.

  “You started eating without me,” Raoul said.

  “Cook’s wife delivered the food to me personally.” Manuel waved away Raoul’s concern. “She’s a good woman.”

  Manuel was too trusting of anyone who had a pair of breasts and a womb. Although the emperor preferred blondes, he was game for a roll with anyone who had tits. His empress didn’t condone such behavior, but if Manuel at least attempted discretion, she looked the other way.

  Raoul tried warning him loose women were the devil’s helpers, but his words fell on deaf ears. A whore was paid to do a service, an honest transaction to ease a man’s lust. A woman with no morals was not a woman Raoul would trust in his bed or his emperor’s breeches. So he made certain his liege was safe while in the throes of carnal passion, and it was due to this service that Manuel had never been on the receiving end of a small, sharp blade or a cup filled with poisoned wine.

  “I will talk to the blonde.”

  Manuel gestured toward Irene and Eleanor, who laughed together as if they were the best of friends, but spoke directly to Raoul. “Be discreet.”

  “You say this to me? Pah.” Raoul scratched behind the ears of the leopards until they purred. “Later,” he promised the cats. He’d trained Serena and Star from cubs to trust his touch and could wrestle them without worrying over broken bones and missing teeth.

  He made his way down the long table, as if he were searching for a place to sit. He didn’t expect anybody to offer room on a bench. He was a big man and not always a nice one.

  Pausing behind the big-breasted redhead and the blonde with the eye twitch, he leaned in. “May I?” He pushed them aside as if they weighed nothing. “Tight fit,” he said with a straight face as he sat.

  The redhead burst out laughing, while the blonde seethed. “You are in my way,” she said, her eating knife pointed at his bicep. The blade looked sharp, and a flower was engraved on the handle.

  Where did her loathing for him come from? He was no charmer, but usually women didn’t want to stab him until after they’d been introduced. “I don’t eat much.” He pointed at her plate.

  “I don’t share.” She stared at him with hostility in her icy blue eyes.

  He nodded, as if they were having a perfectly normal table conversation. “I’m a one-on-one man myself. Your interest in the leopards has been noticed.”

  “The leopards?” She curled her upper lip. “I don’t like animals.”

  “Too bad. I know someone who would like to show you where they sleep.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she took in his meaning. “Why did you not say so?”

  Giving her no time to protest, Raoul reached over and speared a bite of chicken with her knife, popped it in his mouth, and chewed. “And miss out on this chance to know you better? Subtlety is an art, one you might consider learning. What is your name?”

  “Sarah.” Her eyes glittered with suppressed anger.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Non,” she said through gritted teeth. “The emperor’s pleasure.” Her face paled as if she feared she’d gone too far.

  Raoul got the distinct impression that she would like to murder him, that perhaps she was not unfamiliar with corrupt deeds. Blonde and as far away from the image of his dead wife as could be, she was the kind he usually punished with his angry lust before paying them to leave. He did not like her any more than she liked him. He lifted her knife. “You can have this back later.” When there was no chance it would end up in the emperor’s back.

  Palming the blade, he rose and bowed low between the two women. “When the minstrels come out and the queen and empress are entertained, I will send word where to go,” he whispered to the blonde while staring at the redhead’s generous assets. “You had better be alone.”

  Only when he lifted his gaze to the left did he realize the violet-eyed lady had witnessed his crude behavior. He’d been so intent on arranging Manuel’s evening that his own agenda had been forgotten.

  A knight with golden blond hair and hazel eyes placed his hand over the lady’s, but she slipped it free as Raoul stared. Her porcelain face reflected her thoughts as clearly as if she had said them aloud. She believed he would have the blonde or the redhead or both in his bed. It was better for everyone if she continued to believe the lie. She seemed an innocent in a sea of sharks.

  “What is her name?” Raoul held his eyes steady, not daring to blink. The redhead followed the direction of his gaze.

  “Isabella de Lacey. She, too, is a member of the queen’s court.”

  “Is she married?”

  The redhead cleared her throat. “Non. A widow. What do you want with a wife, monsieur?”

  Raoul finally dropped his gaze to the redhead’s pretty face, only to find her staring at his chest and thighs. “My lady?”

  He detected no embarrassment in her demeanor as she looked up and winked. This would be a bedmate who gave as good as she got, and he almost regretted turning her down as he did with a slight shake of his head.

  “My name is Mamie. If you change your mind, come and find me.” She rose, turned to Isabella, and shrugged. “You cannot blame me for asking, can you?” She wisely did not wait for an answer before excusing herself from the table.

  Raoul knew then that this Isabella had talked about him and not in the way women usually did. With fear. What had she shared with her bold friend? That she had stared at him as he’d walked from the ocean?

  Intrigued, he watched as Isabella shook off the golden knight’s restraining hand as she also rose from the bench. She bravely met and held his gaze before lowering her head, and he felt ridiculous regret that she’d seen him ogle Mamie’s breasts. Dressed in light blue and silver and with her hair covered, she epitomized the word lady.

  She brushed past him, her steps dainty and her perfume sweet. He thought he heard her mutter, “Whore,” as she walked by but told himself he had to be mistaken.

  CHAPTER 4

  Bella strode from the dining hall, her head high as she looked for Mamie. How could her friend have acted so brazenly with her target? It was bad enough Raoul hadn’t even noticed her, having been so intent in his pursuit of beautiful Sarah. Unsure how to react, she sought peace and quiet in her chamber. Dare she tell the queen Raoul wasn’t interested in her?

  “Bella! Wait for us!”

  Bella turned at the sound of Fay’s voice. She and Catherine walked side by side, lovely in their colors of daisy yellow and peony pink.

  “You look ready to pull Mamie’s hair out by the roots,” Catherine observed, her hands folded at her waist.

  Bella quietly expelled a calming breath. “I’ve never done such a thing in my life. I will simply ask Mamie what she was doing and then … and then …” Bella pressed her fingertips together, controlling her temper.

  “Let’s finish this discussion in our room,” Fay suggested with an amused glance at Catherine.

  “Should we wait for Sarah?” Bella looked toward the dining hall but saw neither Sarah nor Raoul. “Perhaps she’s already with Raoul. The queen will know I failed.”

  “You didn’t fail,” Catherine said, linking her arm with Bella’s. “And Sarah was speaking with Jonathon when we left.”

  It wasn’t enough that her beautiful friend had attracted Bella’s target, but she was flirting with Jonathon too? Bella’s stomach knotted as she walked up the stairs with Fay and Catherine. “I must have another chance.”

  “We’ll see what Sarah and Mamie say,” Catherine advised. “I couldn’t hear what was being said on that side of the table. Could you?”

  “Non. Raoul ate chicken from Sarah’s plate, and then Mamie practically unclothed him with her eyes, right there in front of everyone.” Bella’s voice raised in pitch as she remembered Raoul’s obvio
us appreciation of Mamie’s curves.

  Bella opened the door, and Mamie, inside the chamber, turned around from her seat by the window.

  “Mamie! How could you—”

  “Bella, I’m sorry.”

  “This is my first assignment, and I—”

  This time Bella was interrupted by Sarah running through the door as if chased by bloodthirsty Turks.

  The women all started talking at once, but the discussion ended when Sarah reached the chamber pot.

  Between heaves, Sarah explained she hadn’t asked for Raoul’s attention, but he’d stolen her knife, the thieving bastard, and eaten her chicken on behalf of the emperor.

  With a start, Bella realized she’d been naive, concluding that Raoul had asked Sarah for sport. He was the emperor’s trusted man, so of course he would arrange a tryst between the emperor and his lovers. No reason to feel slighted or, worse, jealous, a reaction she would examine later before falling asleep.

  Mamie remained unforgiven for her base behavior.

  “Stop glaring at me, Bella. I said I was sorry. But Raoul was standing in front of me, all of that male muscle so close to my mouth I could practically put—oh, never mind. Here, put this damp towel on the back of Sarah’s neck. It should help with the nausea.”

  “That just feels wet. Take it off! It’s that devil’s fault, and now I can’t go to meet the emperor.” Sarah moaned pathetically. “He probably poisoned me.”

  “You didn’t eat after Raoul sat down,” Bella said. “I doubt you were poisoned, Sarah. We all had the same thing.” She brushed her hand down Sarah’s hair. “We can send Mamie to meet with the emperor in your stead. She’s already hot and bothered. Let the emperor scratch that itch, eh?” Bella sniffed.

  “The emperor is Sarah’s assignment, and John does not seem the sort of man who will take used goods, if you get my meaning.” Mamie shrugged.

  “Too late for that,” Bella declared, her emotion getting the better of her for once.