The Archer Queen

by Blake, Nova

  The plan hadn't changed a great deal after the revelation of who I was. Killian would take Thomas to get fitted out in something that would appeal to the queen; as the only one she would not recognize, it fell to him to play potential suitor and keep her distracted while we stole the bow. Killian would introduce him at the party, and then return to his room where Farrow and I would be waiting.

  And then we would steal the bow, get Thomas out of there, and hopefully skip town before anyone realized it was missing.

  Hopefully.

  I watched Thomas leave with a little trepidation. It was the first time we'd really been parted since our journey began. I wasn't sure how good at acting he was, but I knew he'd do his best. Besides, he was attractive, different from the other men I'd seen around here. His skin was darker, warmer, and his curly mass of hair unusual as well.

  I hoped the queen took a liking to him; just not as much as I had…

  "He'll be fine," Farrow assured me. He put a hand at my waist and turned me away from the departing figures. "Killian will take good care of him."

  "It's not that that I'm worried about," I said with a sigh. "I just… He's always there for me. And I can't be there for him. For this. He's… He's not the suavest man in the world. Not like you who just sweeps in and makes a girl tingle."

  "Oh, I do, do I?" He swept a few strands of red hair back from my face. "And he doesn't?" That wicked grin was back, that raised eyebrow.

  I rolled my eyes at Farrow. "Thomas makes me tingle in all the right places, don't you worry."

  "And me?" There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice then, a flash of tenderness in his eyes.

  I stood up straighter and pulled his face to mine, crushing my lips against his. "And you."

  When I pulled away, his eyes were closed, a look of longing etched on his face. He tried to pull me in for another kiss, but I put my hand between us and his lips met my palm. His eyes flew open in surprise.

  "Not right now. We have work to do. And, I need to know about you and Killian. You never mentioned him before." I tried to avoid the slight stab at that thought. But really, we'd known each other mere days and he might be an arrow, but he didn't owe me anything. "How long have you been a thing?"

  He shrugged, as if the question wasn't as intrusive as it felt. "For a few years now. It's not… Exclusive," he said, clearly choosing the word carefully. "We don't see each other that often, but when we do, well… It's nice to know someone cares about you." He looked at me sharply then. "Does it bother you?"

  "No." I shook my head emphatically. "Not at all, I just didn't know." The image of them kissing flashed in my head and my cheeks burned.

  "Oh," he said with a slow smile. "I see."

  "What do you see?" I demanded. "There is nothing to see." I blushed harder, hating that I did. Hating that he could see what the sight of them together had done to me. Curiosity burned inside me too and I hated that as well. I'd gone from being quite content with my own company, to being surrounded by hot men who seemed to want me and apparently, that had brought up all kinds of feelings and desires I'd been suppressing.

  It had probably been better that way.

  No. Not better. Just easier.

  I blew out a breath and tried to center myself again. "Come on, let's go. We need to get organized for the party."

  17

  Killian

  I led the way through the court to an isolated room with a view out over the lake. Thomas followed a few steps behind me like a recalcitrant puppy. I couldn't quite figure him out. He was handsome, but standoffish. And we were going to need to change that if he had any chance with my mother.

  Although… Perhaps we could play on his nerves and shyness. The untrained, inexperienced new man in court. Yes, that would work well too.

  I opened the door and ushered him inside. He walked to the middle of the room and then looked around.

  "What is this place?"

  "It's my sewing room," I said simply. "Mother leaves me alone here or she knows I'll demand she try something new and unfashionable. Right now, we need to get you measured for the right attire. We want you to show off your looks, but also to appear interesting, enticing. She loves a new conquest."

  He rocked back on his heels, a dark scowl passing over his face. "Conquest?"

  I sighed. "You don't have to sleep with her, but she has to think you will."

  "I…"

  I closed the door and locked it, stepping closer to Thomas. "We barely know each other, but we have a purpose to fulfil, so let me help." I dragged the fabric on my arm back, revealing the Mark; it shimmered gold against my skin and I felt the wonder creeping back in. Wonder, and delight at what this meant.

  I'd finally have the chance to go against my mother, to show her just how little I thought of her style of ruling. To betray her and stand up for what I believed in – and with the True Queen by my side, wanting the same thing. I'd felt it in that one touch, that instant flare of connection, that awareness of who she was as a person.

  And I couldn't wait to get to know her better.

  Thomas pulled the fabric up his arm too and the Marks sat side by side. His seemed bronzer, more heavily set into his skin, maybe because he'd had it longer than I.

  "We are in this together," I said as I looked up at him. He was taller than me, broader too, but right now he seemed vulnerable. If Farrow had looked at me with eyes like that I would have kissed him, but I could tell Thomas wasn't that way inclined. "Let me help you be who you need to be tonight."

  Thomas nodded stiffly.

  "Good. Now take your clothes off." I said it with a straight face, but when Thomas' eyebrows shot up under his mop of curls, I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You can keep them on but I do need to take some measurements. Will you cope?" I raised an eyebrow, waited for his short nod before I found my measuring tape and got to work.

  His body didn't loosen at all as I measured and re-pinned his clothing to find the right shape. There was no way Mother would be interested if he didn't release some of the tension.

  "What are you worried about?" I asked, looking up at him. I was kneeling on the floor, measuring his feet for the slippers we tended to wear at court here.

  "I just don't know what to do. I'm not good at this. Everything is always right there on my face. How can I pretend to be into your mother when I love Jaelyn?"

  "Because you love Jaelyn, and she needs you to do this. Keep the queen busy so we can steal the bow. We do all sorts of things for the people we love." Even if we didn't like them, I thought.

  I loved my mother, but I didn't like her much. And I could not stand by and continue to watch as she ruined our court, letting it waste away, diverting her funds towards pretending everything was okay when it wasn't.

  "Ouch!" Thomas jerked away, and I realized I'd accidentally pricked him.

  "Sorry," I grimaced. "I lost focus."

  His face softened a little then, as if he could perceive my inner turmoil. "It must be hard, going against her like this."

  "Yes, and no," I admitted. "It's the right thing to do, and that's more important. And then there is this." I nodded to my arm where the Mark lay. "Ever since it appeared, I have this sense of loyalty to Jaelyn. It's…strange. Not unpleasant, but like my brain has reshuffled my priorities, like I can really see the truth of things, behind the masks my mother wears and the reality of the world, as it is, not as it has been painted."

  "I think that's the most you've said today," Thomas commented. "Thank you for sharing that. I was in love with Jaelyn before I got my Mark, so nothing has really changed for me. I didn't realize how powerful the magic of the Mark was."

  "How could any of us?" I said. I tucked one last piece and pinned it, then stepped back to take Thomas in. Yes, that was better. With an open vest to show off the expanse of his stomach – which I could tell would be muscled, even through his clothing – he would draw my mother’s gaze. She'd not be able to resist his coloring, that mop of ha
ir, that shy boy smile.

  "Why are you grinning like that?" Thomas asked warily.

  "Because you are a treat my mother will not be able to resist."

  I almost felt sorry for him.

  Almost.

  18

  Jaelyn

  We reconvened in the inn. Farrow ordered beer, and bowls of stew. Thomas had stashed his new attire upstairs without allowing me to have even a glimpse of it. Kilian looked uncomfortable here. He was too clean, too pristine and beautiful to be slumming it in a place like this. And yet, he held his head up and every time his eyes slid around him to check on the other patrons he seemed to try and force them back to the table. To the food.

  "Everything went well?" I asked again. A thrum of nerves ran through me. The last part of my mission had been so easy, I'd just walked in and Levon had handed me the quiver, no questions asked. And now we were planning to steal an item from the queen…

  "Thomas looks dashing," Killian said, a glimmer in his eyes.

  "Apparently I'm to be a tasty treat for his mother, and I gotta say, that feels a bit weird." Thomas grimaced. "I'm not sure I'll be good at this, but I'll try." He looked me in the eyes then, silently adding a 'for you'. My gut clenched. I didn't like this either.

  "Don't worry, she might be power mad, but I hear she is very good to her lovers."

  Thomas choked on his food, and my fingers shook under the table. "Lover? I'm not— I can't—" His frantic gaze went from Killian, and then back to me. "I'm not going to sleep with her."

  I gripped the fabric of my pants, steeling myself. "If you want to, you can." I let my gaze drift to the others at the table. I couldn't ask him to be only mine when he was sharing me with Farrow, and maybe…maybe with Killian too. My core clenched at the thought, and then my gut ached because it felt like some kind of betrayal, to want another when Thomas was looking at me with eyes like that.

  "No," he said. "I only want you. I told you that, Jae. I don't care if you want them, but I only want you." He reached his hand across the table and I grabbed it, gripped it for dear life. "Just you," he whispered the words as he leaned over and gently kissed me. I didn't care that the others were watching because I needed this reassurance, this moment between us.

  Before he would go and dance with another woman, stroke his fingers up her arm, wrap her in an embrace. I didn't want to think of more than that, though I knew he may need to do more if it came to it. That he would, if it meant we could achieve our goals.

  Farrow cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that out of the way…"

  I pulled away from Thomas and rolled my eyes at Farrow. Killian's face showed nothing but empathy and I was reminded again that of the three of them he was probably the softest, the quietest.

  And I would not think about what that might mean in bed, though the image of him kissing Farrow flashed across my mind and a blush rose to my cheeks.

  "After we've eaten, we can go to some more…suitable accommodations to get changed," Killian said.

  "Not used to slumming it, are you, friend?" Farrow leaned back in his seat with a smile. He hooked an arm around Killian's shoulder and dragged the other man a little closer. "If you're coming with us, you'll have to get used to worse than this," he said quieter. "Rougher, dirtier…"

  It was Killian's turn to blush. His eyes went a little wider and he leaned away from Farrow, taking him in. He parted his lips as if to speak, but nothing came out.

  I stifled a chuckle. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one to be the brunt of Farrow's wry humor.

  "Do you think you will?" I asked Killian. "Come. With us," I hastened to add, realizing how that could have been taken.

  "I will follow the True Queen wherever she goes," he said, his words steady, quiet, his gaze anything but.

  "Is it true that your mother also has the Mark?"

  "It is true that she claims to have the Mark," he replied with a nod, those carefully chosen words telling me that he didn't think her claim was truth. "But I've seen the proof of your magic, and that is enough." His voice was so low I could barely hear it, and thankfully no one from the other tables would. I wasn't ready to be known as the True Queen – wasn't ready to accept that I could claim the title if I wanted.

  I shoved that thought aside, pushing it deep down. I didn't have to make a decision right now; not until I returned to the Court of Stone and had to face Anya. The thought made my gut ache again and so I reached for a chunk of bread, slathered it with salty butter and bit into it. The fresh, yeasty taste of it was so good, but it sat heavy in my stomach and I put the rest down and pushed my bowl away.

  "I don't think I can eat," I said. "I'm too nervous."

  "You and me both," Thomas added.

  Farrow, however, had just finished his stew and took a large swig of beer. "Let's leave then," he said. "I'm sure if you need refreshments later, Killian will be the perfect host."

  Killian just dipped his head in acknowledgement and then he rose from his seat and waited for the rest of us to follow.

  * * *

  It took hardly any time at all to gather the things we would need for the night. Farrow had shown prowess in shopping for everything we needed; which surprised me because I hadn’t seen a huge market in the Court of Leaves. Perhaps that was why he seemed to enjoy it so much.

  Killian led us through the town in a meandering fashion despite the fact we didn't think we were being followed. It was kind of interesting to see more of the city, and yet tension thrummed inside me and I just wanted to begin. To snatch the bow and get out of this court before we were caught.

  I was sick of waiting.

  Clearly, patience was not one of my virtues right now.

  Finally, we got to the new accommodation and I was surprised to see that it was a small house near the edge of the lake. Killian opened the gate and went through and Farrow followed behind as if they had been here often. Killian unlocked the door and held it open for us as we entered, then closed and locked it behind him.

  The walls were stark white and there were flashes of red in the dressings, the sofa a brilliant blood red that shocked me with its vibrancy.

  "What is this place?" I asked.

  "This is my home away from home," he said. "Come, sit." He ushered us into the living area and I put my bag down along one wall, the others did the same. Farrow flopped onto the couch, while Thomas took a single seat and I walked to the large window which looked out at the lake. The court was so clear from here, and showing a different angle, almost as if this location was chosen to view the court in the best of lights.

  Killian came up beside me, his hand grazing mine and sending a tingle of energy through my skin. But he didn't touch me in any other way, kept his distance. "It's guarded here, official court housing. I got my pick because I'm the prince." He said these words in a self-deprecating manner, like that in itself wasn't reason enough for any special treatment.

  "It's lovely," I said. I glanced towards him and my mouth just about fell open when I realized how long and dark his lashes were.

  "Thanks. My mother has never been here, which makes it my favorite place in the city." He slipped me a wry smile and then turned to the others, clapping his hands together once for attention. "We should get ready."

  "Do I have to?" Thomas asked. There was the faintest whiny thread in his voice.

  "Yes," I said. I crossed the floor and reached for his hand. "Killian knows his mother better than any of us, and if he says this is the best plan, then we go with it." I ran my fingers along his collarbone and he shivered slightly at my touch. "I can help you get dressed if you want?"

  His eyes widened just a little at those words and he nodded.

  "Can we all join in?" Farrow asked. He's arched an eyebrow and looked highly amused.

  "No," Thomas growled.

  "I will need to make sure you're wearing everything properly," Killian said, stepping forward. "Come." His command brooked no protests, so I threaded my fingers with Thomas and we followed the
prince into the bedroom.

  This too was fairly minimalistic in design. The bed occupied a good chunk of the space, a wardrobe stood in one corner, and hanging on the handle was Thomas' outfit, made in crisp white fabric that I knew would contrast beautifully with his skin.

  "I suggest stepping into the bathroom to wash the dust off. When you're clean and dry, you can put your pants on and let me know." Killian dropped onto the bed and looked like he was settling in. I think that was the longest sentence he might have said in my presence.

  Thomas looked at me, but I just shrugged, and he moved into the bathroom to do as he was told.

  "You're sure this will work?" I asked Killian. I leaned against the wall, not trusting myself to sit next to him on the bed; not wanting Thomas to see us that close. I could tell he was struggling a little, but my open interactions with him weren't only for his benefit, and I hoped he knew that.

  "Yes. Mother always likes to play with new toys." He practically purred those words, though a look of disgust flashed across his face, as though he was playing at brushing off his mother’s conquests.

  "He's not a toy. Not to me," I said firmly.

  He locked his gaze on mine, cool, calm, quiet. "I know," he said, his voice softer than I expected. There was more in that look, like he was trying to tell me that he really did understand. But he couldn't. Surely. Yet he didn't stop looking at me, his gaze turning intent, sizzling.

  My lips parted in surprise because it was like he physically touched me with that look, raked his gaze down my body, back to my face, cherishing me.

  The door to the bathroom swung open and Thomas stepped into the room again, his stark white pants tight around his waist and butt, teasing at muscular upper thighs before flaring out. My mouth dropped even further open at the sight. His bare chest was gleaming, a few stray droplets of water running down his skin. He was toweling off his mop of curls and I just wanted to walk over to him and run my hands over his body. A quick glance at Killian suggested he wouldn't mind doing the same.