Elena shook her head, looking solemn. “No. But there’s a fifty-percent chance I’m going to break her heart, and I want him to be there for her.”
He briefly tightened his arm around hers, giving her a squeeze without being obvious about it. “She’ll be glad you’re telling her now.”
When they got to the meeting room, however, the queen wasn’t there. In fact, the only person in the room was one of the little army of assistants that seemed to swarm the palace at all hours, carrying paperwork from room to room. When he saw Elena, he snapped instantly to attention. “Your Highness—I did not expect to see you. How may I be of assistance?”
“Wasn’t there a meeting scheduled for this room?” Elena asked, making the question sound like nothing more than mild curiosity. “Something about property taxes?”
“There was, but Bishop informed us that the queen was ill and could not attend,” the man said, his voice solemn. “The meeting is being rescheduled for tomorrow morning.”
Cam felt Elena go tense, though none of it leaked through into her voice. “Ill?”
“I apologize, Your Highness.” The man bowed slightly in apology. “I’m afraid we were not given details as to the nature of the queen’s discomfort.”
Elena practically pulled Cam out of the room at that, and when they were safely out of sight she slid her arm free of his and started hurrying down the hallway. He followed her, the pair of them almost but not quite running. “I take it your mom doesn’t get sick very often?”
She stopped, whirling around to face him. “No, she never misses meetings.” The worry was all over her face. “And the only way even Bishop could have convinced her to miss one was if something was seriously wrong.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I was so busy trying not to tell her about the blackouts that I completely missed the fact that she was in trouble.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He caught her by the shoulders, leaning down enough that his eyes met hers when she opened them. “You’ll figure out what to do.”
It wasn’t exactly useful or original, but it seemed to help. She squared her shoulders, then pulled away again to continue hurrying down the hallway. Cam followed her, hoping she knew where they were going. After three turns, two sets of stairs and another turn, he recognized the queen’s chambers. The guards that were normally stationed outside had been sent away, which normally meant she was having a private meeting, but the door had been left partially open.
When they got closer, Cam could hear both the queen’s and Bishop’s voices.
He caught Elena’s arm, but she just nodded and moved around to the side of the doorway that would offer them some cover. Faintly exasperated that the two women still wouldn’t just talk to each other, he settled in behind her so he at least wouldn’t give her position away.
“Bishop, I told you. I feel perfectly well.” That was the queen, her usually restrained tone not quite able to mask either the affection or exasperation in the words. “I let you cancel the meeting because I knew how worried you were, but I’m up to handling even the most stubborn council member.”
“You feel perfectly well now because your symptoms mysteriously disappeared less than an hour ago.” Bishop’s voice was insistent, with just enough passion behind it that Cam suspected the elf would rather be shouting. “After three full hours of nausea, disorientation, and chills, which is by far the longest episode you’ve had. You’re a sorceress, Illiana. You can’t tell me you don’t find this at least a little bit concerning.”
Cam’s eyes narrowed. Elena had been awake for less than an hour. If they compared the exact time to the moment the queen recovered, he had a sudden suspicion they’d match. In front of him, Elena had gone absolutely still. Had the same thought occurred to her?
Inside the room, the queen sighed. “You know why I can’t see a doctor. If news were to get around that I’d fallen ill, the council would become difficult.”
“They’d panic, you mean.” The words were blunt. “No one is pleased by the thought of the kingdom falling into my hands, me more than anyone. We all want you safe, Illiana.”
“The council members simply want me around to keep them all in line.” The words were light enough that they sounded like an old joke. “If any of them ever saw you whipping the departmental budgets into shape, I’m sure they’d understand that you’re more than sufficiently terrifying enough to maintain order.”
“Illiana.” Bishop’s voice had gone sharp. Cam sympathized completely. “You’ve been having these episodes for weeks now, striking at random times with absolutely no notice. For all we know, this morning was a sign that they’ll all be that long in the future. You must see someone!” He exhaled, the anger seeming to drain out of him. “Please.”
Elena’s shoulders had gone tense, confirmation that she’d come to the same conclusion he had. Inside the queen’s room was the kind of all-encompassing silence that either meant a serious emotional moment or lethal levels of embarrassment, both of which meant that now was not the time to interrupt.
Finally, the queen spoke. “I’ll talk to Braeth,” she said softly. “He knows some of the basic spells witches use to sense illness. If he agrees with you, I’ll see a doctor.”
And that was their cue. Cam reached forward to pull the door further open, then pushed Elena forward until she was visible. Luckily for everyone’s dignity, she didn’t fight it. “Mother?” she asked, stepping inside the room fully under her own power. Cam slipped in after her. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”
“Of course,” the queen said, her face shifting subtly as she collected herself. She sat up very straight, as if bracing herself a little, and Cam realized that the queen had to know they’d overheard at least part of the conversation. There was no sign of illness on her face, but her dress was more rumpled than she normally allowed it to be. “What did you need?”
Elena took a deep breath. “I’m going to perform a full analysis on the curse, and I would like you to be a part of it.”
The queen went absolutely still, and Cam couldn’t read her reaction at all. Bishop took a step towards the queen, almost involuntarily, but she stopped him with a small shake of her head before turning back to her daughter. “Of course.” Then she paused. “I was wondering, however, what inspired this. We initially put a stop to them because you were quite vehement that they weren’t doing any good.”
Now it was Elena’s turn to go silent. At her side, her fingers clenched briefly. “I’ve been having blackouts.” The queen’s eyes widened, but Elena pushed ahead before her mother could say anything. “Initially, I thought they were just an unfortunate extension of the curse, but now I think it’s because the curse has been affected somehow. Maybe—” Here, she faltered a little, and Cam moved closer to her. “Maybe it’s breaking down somehow. I won’t know for sure until we examine it.”
Neither woman even breathed for what felt like far too long, but Cam knew they were the only ones with the right to break the silence. Then the queen let out a long breath, blinking away a suspicious sheen in her eyes. “That sounds like a very good idea,” she said, holding out a hand to her daughter. “Thank you for asking me to be a part of it.”
Elena took her mother’s hand, squeezing it tight. “We can’t be sure without double checking the times, but I think your bouts of illness are happening the same time as the blackouts.”
Bishop froze at that. Surprise flashed across the queen’s eyes, followed by what Cam could only describe as intellectual interest. In the next instant, that was chased away by deep, deep fury. “Ariadne.”
Elena jumped on that nugget of information. “Why are you so sure? Is she doing this to hurt us somehow? And how is she getting at you?” She crouched down in front of her mother. “She can reach me through the curse, but I know how good your shielding is. Both Braeth and I keep adding to it when you’re not looking.”
The q
ueen froze at that, pressing her lips together. The wetness in her eyes was getting harder to blink away. “A blood sample was needed to activate the curse. Since you hadn’t been born yet, there was no way for Ariadne to obtain yours. Her only choice was to the blood she and I shared as sisters, and that you and I share as mother and daughter.”
Elena shot to her feet, but she still didn’t let go of her mother. “So the curse is going to affect you, too? Seventeen years and you never thought to mention this?”
The queen’s expression looked remarkably similar to his mother’s when one of the kids started panicking about something ridiculous. “Other than breaking my heart, the sleeping curse won’t have any effect on me. Braeth triple-checked. But if it is Ariadne, she might be using the blood as a conduit to alter the curse somehow. That would have an effect me, since I’m the access point between you.”
Elena’s shoulders were still stiff. “How can you talk about that so calmly?”
The queen glared at her daughter, the look surprisingly similar to the one he’d seen so often on Elena. “The same way you hid the blackouts from me and the rest of the castle for weeks.”
She glanced past her daughter, briefly meeting Cam’s eyes, and he could see that the queen was aware of just how much he knew. She didn’t look angry at him, but the Randall women were too good at hiding their emotions for Cam to let himself relax completely.
Elena, surprisingly, wasn’t doing quite as good a job of that as usual. Her shoulders hadn’t relaxed at all, and when he put a steadying hand on her back he realized there was plenty of tension there as well. He kept waiting for her to say something stupid, which was what he and his siblings reliably did when they were angry for no reason, but she made herself exhale. “I didn’t schedule a time for the analysis with anyone, but we need to do it soon.” He could hear the worry in her voice. “You talk to Braeth, and I’ll let Dr. Flyte and Robbie Merrick know. Hopefully, they’ll have some free time before the end of this week.”
The queen tensed a little at the mention of Robbie—clearly, several people had known before she did—but she didn’t say anything about it. “I’ll speak to Braeth today.” She leaned in close to her daughter. “We will solve this, sweetheart. I promise you.”
For a minute, mother and daughter just looked at each other. Then Elena slid her hand free of the queen’s, laying both her hands on the sides of her mother’s head. She pressed a kiss against her hair. “I love you, too.”
She turned and left the room. Cam hurried to follow her, watching the tension that Elena no longer bothered trying to hide. Once he was sure they were safely out of earshot of the queen, he moved close enough to talk to her. “You have no right to be mad at your mom, you know. She was doing exactly the same thing you were.”
Elena whirled on him, mouth open to snap something at him. Then she froze, as if she’d actually thought through whatever she’d been about to say, and closed it again. “I’m going to die at eighteen,” she said. “What is there left to protect me from?”
If that was the milder version, what had she held back from saying? “Her only kid’s going to die at eighteen because of her sister. What is there left to protect her from?”
Elena didn’t say anything for the longest time, jaw tightening. She met his eyes. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, knowing you’re going to break the hearts of everyone you ever cared about? I don’t—” She caught herself again. “I was trying to make it easier.”
Cam wished he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Love doesn’t work that way, princess.” He shook his head, feeling a sympathetic ache in his own chest. He’d never met two people who needed a hug more in his entire life. “I know my parents have at least half adopted you. Why haven’t they told you that at some point?”
The exasperation in her eyes was better than the pain had been. “Because I don’t ask them. I know how they would want me to handle things, and I—” The words trailed off as her shoulders sagged. “I can’t.”
It hurt just listening to this. How on earth had he ever gotten sucked up in the middle of it? “Maybe your mom can’t, either.” Needing to focus on something else, Cam started moving again. He nudged Elena into continuing down the hallway ahead of him. “Now, that’s enough of me being insightful. You have some people you need to call.”
Late summer
19 years ago
Getting King Randall’s blood was becoming complicated.
The technical challenges were only a part of the problem. As she’d suspected, a visiting scholar didn’t have easy access to any of the king’s medical tests or leftover bandages. She’d pretended to be a witch studying the human body, hoping that it would lead to some time with the castle doctor, but all of the king’s medical needs were taken care of by a witch named Dame Kadrey. They had met once, briefly, but it was enough to make it clear that route wouldn’t be effective. Kadrey was suspicious, perceptive, and highly protective of anyone in her charge. Any bandages or biological samples were burned instantly.
The king himself was surprisingly private, appearing mostly in administrative meetings and the occasional public function. In each circumstance he seemed quiet, intelligent and unfailingly polite, which was the other part of the problem. It was hard to concentrate on hurting someone who seemed determined not to hurt anyone else.
She told herself that he didn’t spend enough time in his library. It was a small, ridiculous fault, but she clung to it.
Illiana found her own time in that library stretching later and later into the evening, preferring the peace and quiet that came after the other scholars had left for the day. It also allowed her to plan without anyone asking her inconvenient questions, spreading notes and diagrams out in front of her that would have required yet more lies not to seem suspicious.
A sudden sound near one of the shelves startled Illiana. Her head shot upright to scan the room, which at first seemed as empty as it had been last time she’d looked up. Then a head emerged from behind a table as a man slowly pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off and picking up a few books that had fallen to the ground. It took a moment to put the scene together with the sound she’d heard, and she realized he must have tripped somehow. “Are you hurt?” she asked, closing the architectural book and pushing it beneath a stack of other volumes.
The man met her eyes, looking embarrassed, and Illiana faced the far more startling realization that she was alone in a room with the king. “Only my pride. I didn’t expect anyone to be in the library this late.”
“I like the quiet.” Illiana swallowed, horrified to have been dropped in the middle of what her sister would have described as a perfect opportunity. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t know I’d be interrupting you. You don’t come into the library very often.”
She hadn’t had a great deal of opportunity to study him this closely. He was perhaps five years older than she was, with a lean face and a black goatee that she felt made him look distinguished. The servants all adored him, perhaps in part because she’d never once heard of him raising his voice during the time she’d been at the castle.
Looking at him, she decided that his kind eyes also probably had something to do with it.
“Call me Thomas. When your kingdom is as small as this one, the people care far less about propriety than that you do your job properly. As such, I’ve never really felt comfortable with the title.” His voice was surprisingly warm as he returned the books to the shelves, carefully sliding them into their proper spaces. “As to your apology, you’re not interrupting me. I can hardly fault someone else for enjoying the library under the same conditions I do.”
After his arms were empty, the king—Thomas—set about refilling them again. She watched him pluck several books from the nearby shelves, scanning the nearby titles only briefly before finding the ones he wanted. He was clearly far more familiar with the library than she’d imagi
ned, and demonstrated a care and respect for it that she could only admire.
When he had gathered a small stack, he hesitated by the table. “What are you studying?”
Illiana blinked, so caught up in watching him that she’d briefly forgotten her cover story. “The human body. Specifically, magically-induced illnesses and how to cure them.”
“Not an easy course of study.” The admiration in his voice sounded genuine, which only made the situation a thousand times worse. She told herself that she should leave now and try to forget about all of this by the morning. She could find another place to work, some place where she could think of him as just a king instead of a kind man who loved books as much as she did.
Instead of doing any of that, she refocused on what Thomas was saying. “Are you planning on going into teaching?”
“No.” Here, at least, she could be honest with him. “I prefer not to deal with too many people. I’m much more comfortable with facts.”
“A feeling we share.” His voice was soft, and it seemed like he was about to take a step towards her. Then he stopped himself, turning instead to set the volumes he’d collected down on the table. “Isn’t it lucky for us that books are such excellent company?”
“Yes.” Her own voice had softened as she watched his eyes widen slightly, as if surprised that someone else might feel the same way he did. She had learned to read people by watching her sister’s mercurial shifts of mood, but she recognized his movements because she saw them so often in the mirror. “What are you reading?”
Even as his eyebrows lifted in surprise, she saw Thomas’s shoulders relax a little. “A bit of a mix, really. Some legal histories, the journal of an ancestor who apparently held off an invasion with nothing more than a toothpick and a clever cat, and a few of my favorite botany guides.” The corners of his mouth curved upward briefly. “The last are a reward for me when I make it through the others.”
Illiana couldn’t remember the last time she’d rewarded herself. She wasn’t even sure how to go about it. “I always wished I had a firmer grasp of botany. I know a great deal about the different plants, but I’m useless to identify any of them without a diagram in my hands.”
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