Mary returned with another serving girl carrying trays of sugar buns, cut fruit and a large jug of icy cold milk. Charlie nabbed himself a sugar bun before Mary could stop him and earned a giggle from the children. He grinned back at them.
“What’s your name, teenager?” asked Natalie.
“Charlie. What’s yours, kid?”
“Natalie Serena Marlock St. Lucidis,” she replied grandly.
“Nice name. Bit long isn’t it?” sniffed Charlie, as he pinched a piece of fruit off the tray.
“And she forgot the princess bit,” agreed Aaron.
Natalie frowned at her brother. “’Princess’ is not my name. It’s my station in life. That’s what Mrs. Ollenby says.”
“That’s where trains go,” added Aaron, conversationally. “To stations.”
Natalie opened her mouth to retort when Beauty shoved a bun in it. Aaron fell about laughing at his sister’s wide eyes.
“It’s a bit early for that kind of talk, Princess Natalie,” said the nanny, not unkindly. “Now eat your breakfast so we can get you to your horse riding lesson.”
“Who’ll be up and about to give them a lesson?” asked Freckles. “The whole Estate is asleep.”
“Benjamin will be ready,” said Nice Curves confidently.
“How do you know?” asked Beauty as she fed small bits of fruit to the baby.
“He said he always gets up early, no matter how late it was the night before,” replied Nice Curves.
Beauty and Freckles exchanged a glance before breaking into laughter. Aaron joined in though he didn’t know why.
“Oooh, well, it’s nice to know someone understands the handsome messenger so well,” teased Beauty.
“He’s not just a messenger, you know,” blushed Nice Curves, but looked pleased despite the comment. “He is a groomsman and a house guard too. He was on duty for the Queen last night,” she added.
“Aye, aye, got a fella then, Nanny?” smirked Charlie though his heart sunk just a little. Nice Curves had a friendly look about her that a man like him could appreciate.
“Her name isn’t Nanny, its Caitlin,” corrected Natalie, pointing to each girl in turn. “And that’s Seraphina and that’s Siobahn, as in sha-vorn.”
“Oh, don’t tell him our names,” huffed the dark-haired Siobahn. “He’s just a cheeky kitchen boy.”
“I’m not!” said Charlie in an injured tone. “I’m a cheeky squire to a nobleman of Carparell.”
He winked at the children and was rewarded with more giggles.
“Well, we need to be on our way,” said Caitlin, scooping up the baby and swinging her onto her hip. “Everyone say good-bye to Cheeky Charlie.” But she smiled and her blue eyes twinkled.
Aye aye, thought Charlie, maybe Nice Curves will be for me after all? He grinned back and jumped off the bench to bow low to Caitlin and the children.
The little party left the kitchen with as much noise as they had entered with after Aaron knocked over a tower of empty oven trays.
“So that’s the Royal children,” said Mary next to Charlie’s shoulder. “I never saw them up close yesterday. Pretty lot, aren’t they?”
“Hmmm, yeah, pretty,” answered Charlie, distracted. Aaron had worn an expression on his face so familiar to Charlie, but he couldn’t for the life of him place where it came from. He concentrated hard for a moment, but the memory slipped away just as he thought he had had it. With a sigh Charlie focused back on Mary’s prattle.
“…though I don’t know why they are so high and mighty, they’re only nannies. I could’ve been a nanny you know, but the sound of babies crying sets my teeth on edge…”
“Right then, Mary. I’ll see you later, alright?” Charlie lay a quick kiss on his cousin’s cheek. She smelled of flour and something sweet, like candied fruit. “I’ll go see if my Lord’s awake yet.”
“Right you are, Charlie,” replied Mary, mildly. She’d believe anything he said. “See you later.” She bustled off about her business.
Charlie left the kitchens and, blending in with the other servants, he quietly made his way to the Royal Wing.
Here things got a little trickier.
Charlie ducked behind a suit of armor as two guards passed him, one in the green of Belvoir house livery and a big fellow in the Queen’s Guard gold and white.
“I’m telling you, Owens. The Queen has a real thing for me,” the one in green was prattling. “If I’d just had a few more minutes with her, I’m sure I could have…”
“Shut up, you idiot!” replied the Queen’s Guard testily. “I’m sick of hearing about it.”
Charlie peeked round the suit of armor, as the two guards made their way down the hall and around the corner. He checked the other direction, but there was no one else around. Obviously, these two had decided to go off duty early.
That meant the door to the Queen’s bedroom was unguarded. Charlie counted the doors along the side of the hallway to make sure he had the right one to her bedroom, following Mary’s information.
Slowly, Charlie crept toward the door, ready to scarper, should anybody come by unexpectedly. He ran a hand down his stolen clothing. He was dressed head to toe in the dark blue and grey of Carparell, and looked every inch the squire he was masquerading as. Listening hard at the Queen’s door, he heard the distant sounds of water running, and decided she must be in the bathroom.
With one hand on the door handle, Charlie automatically palmed the blade he held up his sleeve with the other. He took a quick breath and ducked into the room, silently opening and then closing the door behind him. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light in the room, which was good, as he only had a minute or two at the most. Her Majesty was surrounded by people day and night, so this quiet in her room wouldn’t last long. He cast a quick glance at the bed, which was rumpled and empty. The clock on the mantle ticked loudly, counting his seconds.
Charlie stepped into the center of the room and pulled the little box from his pocket and pressed the catch that released the lid. The sand within sparkled greenly, glittering in the dim light. Charlie muttered the brief incantation and then held his breath as the powder in the box rose in a cloud and hovered for a moment before drifting slowly away from him to the open door of the wardrobe.
“That’s strange,” said a voice from behind him. “What’s it for?”
Charlie’s heart clutched hard in his chest and he whipped round to face the figure who had uncurled from the window seat. Not bothering to consider how he had made the mistake of missing an actual person in the room, Charlie put all his energy into fixing his problem. His eyes raked the woman in front of him. She looked young, maybe mid-twenties, with long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was dressed in a loose shirt and riding breeches. Her face was pretty, but her eyes were magnetic, a rich hazel framed by dark lashes, and they scanned him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine. He remembered the warning he had been given and looked away from her face. Queen Adelena was dangerous.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice soft, with an unfamiliar lilt.
Charlie made a snap decision. He flicked his hair off his forehead and stepped backwards to bow, having deftly put the box back in his pocket.
“I’m Charlie, Your Majesty,” he gave a cocksure grin that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced at the green cloud of sand, but it still hovered benignly at the wardrobe. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” replied the Queen, nodding in response to his bow. “What’s that green sand doing in here?” she asked, but Charlie thought she looked more curious than angry. Charlie hoped she wouldn’t try and touch the powder. He had no idea what would happen if she did, but it wouldn’t be good.
The blade slid back down his wrist to lay against his palm. Holding his blade helped Charlie to think. He ran through all the scenarios he had come up with if he had been caught by anyone but the Queen. The green powder should have been invisible to all, but those with the strongest Magic
. He decided to risk it all and stall for time, hoping the powder would find the object he had been sent to steal and he could escape with the Queen being none the wiser. It was an ambitious and stupid plan, but that was Charlie’s usual style.
“That’s a very good question, Your Majesty, and I’m glad you asked,” Charlie dressed his face with an easy smile. “You see, we are currently conducting safety checks in the manor house at this time. Your room should have been cleared yesterday, but I only just found out that the lout who was supposed to check it didn’t. I’m so sorry to disturb you this early in the morning, but I was keen to get it clear straight away. I’ll only be a moment and then I will leave.”
The Queen raised her eyebrows. “Are you using Magic to check the room? I thought that was impossible on the grounds of Belvoir Estate.”
“Ah, yes, it is,” agreed Charlie, as he edged over to the wardrobe where the powder was hovering. If the object had been found, it should have turned silver. Charlie felt the sweat drip down his neck and his eyes flicked back to the Queen, who was staring at him with something close to suspicion on her face. His ruse was not working. Desperate now, Charlie began to rummage through the pockets of the cloak that the green powder hovered nearest.
“It must be here,” muttered Charlie and swore under his breath as all the pockets turned up empty.
“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help?” asked the Queen, but a tremor in her voice caused Charlie’s head to snap up. He watched her inch toward the door. His time had just run out.
“There are no guards outside, Your Majesty,” he said quietly, not bothering to smile anymore. “I came here to find something and it’s not here. I didn’t come here to hurt you, I promise. So, if you let me go, I will let my boss know that you are safe and there will be no trouble.”
Charlie moved slowly, so as not to startle her, and walked backward toward the door.
Curse it all. It should have been such a simple matter! But the powerful Magic in the sand had failed him and now The Boss was going to kill him if this nervy-looking Queen didn’t order her guards to do so first. Despite his bravado, Charlie had no illusions about how difficult it was going to be to sneak out of the Belvoir Manor in broad daylight with soldiers on his tail. He’d grown up on the city streets of Concordis, not the low country of Belvoir, after all.
“Who sent you?” whispered the Queen and for some odd reason, a smile bloomed on her face. “I know him, don’t I?”
Not likely! thought Charlie, but answered politely. “Yes, you know him.” It was always better to agree with powerful people.
She took a step toward him and reached out a hand to stop his backward movement. Charlie froze in his tracks. He didn’t know quite what she was capable of, but he knew it was bad. The Queen wasn’t any taller than him, and with experience and fear on his side, he was sure he could take her, if it came to a fight. He just had to trust that none of her power would work in Belvoir. If it did, he was dead.
But as she got closer, Charlie saw that it was concern and not anger that filled her eyes. He felt a strange and powerful compulsion to throw himself into her arms and sob on her shoulder. He even had a vision of himself doing it. As the last time he had cried he had been wearing swaddling clothes, Charlie felt dazed by the intensity of the emotions that swept through him.
Don’t let her touch you. Don’t ever let her catch your gaze. It’ll be the last thing you ever do, m’boy, The Boss had said. The warning rang in his mind now, as Charlie felt his defenses falling before the Queen as she edged ever closer to him. The blade dropped lower in his hand until he grasped the hilt of the knife.
The door of the bathroom flew open and both Charlie and the Queen spun in surprise.
“I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to use your bathroom, Your Majesty,” gushed a gorgeous blonde as she skipped into the room bringing the scent of roses with her. “It’s so hard having to share a bathroom with the other ladies-in-waiting. I cannot tell you how long Lady Cara takes… oh, hello!” The blonde had finally caught sight of Charlie and Her Majesty frozen in their poses.
Charlie quickly shot the blade up his wrist again. One woman he could take; two and he was stuck. Better to run and risk capture, than to kill the Queen and have a witness scream bloody murder. He saw the Queen shoot him a glance before straightening herself into a more-relaxed stance.
“This is Charlie. He was just delivering a message from the Prince of Carparell,” said the Queen, gesturing at Charlie’s uniform.
“In your bedroom, Your Majesty!” said Blondie in a scandalized tone and gave Charlie a look she might share with a cat turd she had just stepped in. “Get out of here, you cheeky boy. The Queen only receives messengers in her study.”
Charlie dropped his head to hide his pretend shame and turned to the door.
“Oh, it’s not his fault,” said the Queen kindly and Charlie almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand slip around his elbow and hold it firmly. “I’m sure he was just lost. He’s from Carparell, not Belvoir.”
Charlie’s instincts screamed at him to push the Queen away with both hands and scarper as fast as he could, but instead, his feet betrayed him and allowed the Queen to pull him into the next room. His head buzzed with the confusing emotions that had swamped him before, making it hard for him to focus his thoughts and come up with a new plan. But things went from bad to worse when they walked into the adjoining sitting room and Charlie saw the General of the Queen’s Guard standing by a window, while three burly QGs relaxed on armchairs close by, their weapons glinting all shiny and dangerous in the morning light. They all fell silent at the arrival of the Queen.
“Oh, General. Thank the Goddess you are here! We found this boy lurking in the Queen’s bedroom,” trilled Blondie, as she made her way to a tall Guard who had stood to attention, a Captain by the look of his lapels, and attached herself to his arm. She wore her fear like an ill-fitting costume and Charlie wondered absently why beautiful women were almost always evil before he felt the temperature in the room plummet as four sets of icy blue eyes took his measure.
“Oh, Lady Olivia, that’s rubbish,” said the Queen, her voice quiet and soothing as she patted Charlie on the arm before abandoning him to walk to her desk. “The boy was just lost and had been knocking on my bedroom door for some time. Apparently there were no guards in the hall to tell him which way to go.”
The Queen looked up at the General, who, in turn, gave his Captain a hard look.
“That is true, General,” said the blonde, hero-type, a picture of dignified shame. “QG Owens and that Belvoir guard, Benjamin, were not here when QG Pepper and I came on duty.”
“It’s fine, Captain. I’m sure there is no danger in the manor, and after all, he was just a messenger with a letter, not an Immortal Wizard!” The Queen laughed lightly and the tension in the room eased, but Charlie thought it was an odd comment to make.
“Well, no need to worry about that, Your Majesty,” said a little man who had just bustled into the room with a scribe scurrying after him. “Belvoir Estate is blessedly free of any and all Magic. Not even the Marchant Prince himself could break the ancient Curse within these borders.”
“Really?” said the Queen, disbelief coloring her tone as she threw Charlie a glance. “Not even Marchant Magic can be used in this house?”
The little man looked irritated and hid it badly behind a stiff smile. His curly blonde hair was unnaturally perfect, no doubt a wig. “No, of course not, Your Majesty. I just said that. But I, for one, am extremely relieved to stay here after our time in the Grey Palace. That place made my skin crawl. I barely slept a wink the two nights we were there.”
An icicle of fear inched its way down Charlie’s spine. Though he kept his eyes on the ground, he used his peripheral vision to scout an escape. In a room full of people, it should have been easy to drop his shoulders and slink away, but his failed mission had left him in a quandary. Perhaps if he kept up the messenger routine, he might get a
nother chance to find what he had been sent here to steal, especially as the Queen seemed strangely eager to cover for him?
“No Magic at all,” mused the Queen and her hazel eyes caught Charlie’s gaze.
Charlie felt his face tighten. This was it. He was done for now. No way the Queen was going to keep a secret of the spell he’d done in her bedroom. He braced himself for discovery.
“What was the message for Her Majesty?”
It took Charlie a minute to realize that the bossy little man was addressing him. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out before the Queen interrupted him.
“Oh, Prince Claudio wanted me to sit in the Carparell pavilion at the start of the races, Tilburn. Impossible, I imagine?”
“Absolutely impossible, Your Majesty. Why, just the nerve of asking on this very morning is…”
“Ah, Mr. Tilburn!” Blondie piped up from her position, draped on the arm of Captain Handsome. She made her way over to the Queen, her big skirts sweeping over Charlie’s feet as she passed him. “Queen Adelena needs to prepare for the Breakfast party this morning and then the Opening Ceremony this afternoon, and we are already behind schedule. Perhaps your paperwork with her can wait?” She gestured to the scrolls and folios Tilburn had just dropped on the Queen’s desk.
“The business of Unisia will not wait for a horse fete, my Lady,” said Tight Curls snootily. But Blondie didn’t give up. She clasped her hands together in front of her half-exposed bosom, boosting it impressively, and looked up at the little man through her eyelashes.
“But Mr. Tilburn it’s the Opening Day! The whole court will be out and the Queen’s hair alone will take us at least an hour.”
Lady Olivia and Tilburn both examined the Queen with a critical eye. She looked uncomfortable at the scrutiny and Charlie saw a hand self-consciously pat her hair in its messy ponytail.
“Well, I suppose you are right,” said Tilburn with a dramatic sigh. “Her Majesty will go and prepare. I will finish what I can myself and we can work tonight before the evening party starts.”
The Queen Revealed Page 13