Queen of Hearts (The Risen King)

by Samantha Warren

  “Oh, I took care of her,” Guinevere continued with a smile. “I removed her as one of my lady's maids and sent her to a cottage in the country. She never set foot in court again.”

  The guard grunted and kept walking, hoping against all hope that his charge would fall into silence.

  “What kind of fun can be had around here?” Guinevere asked as she skipped along. “It seems very boring so far. No balls, no guests of any kind. Well, no guests that don't want to kill us. I could do with some company, some ladies for tea, a court of some sort.”

  “Lady Aiofe might ask you to tea.”

  “Ick, no thank you. I cannot possibly associate with a woman of such demeanor. She's so uncouth.”

  The guard stopped and turned to stare at Guinevere. She walked a couple more steps before she realized he was no longer beside her. Her steps faltered and she turned to look for him.

  “I am sorry, Miss Guinevere,” the guard said. He glared at her hard and his hand rested on his sword. “But in this castle, you are not the woman in charge and I will not hear a word said against Lady Aiofe. If you cannot silence your tongue, I will return you to your room and have one of the servants bring down some knitting or needlework for you until your regular guard has finished his repast.”

  Guinevere worked her jaw while she searched for a response that wouldn't get her sent back to her small cell. Anger at being treated like anything less than a queen brought color to her cheeks. “I don't even...” she began.

  A man leaving the stable caught her eye. “Oh, Lancelot,” she whispered, then she called his name louder. “Lancelot!“ She grinned and waved her hand at him, trying to catch his attention. He glanced at her, stared her straight in the eye, but kept walking toward the castle.

  “Lance, darling,” she called again and started walking toward him as fast as she could without actually running.

  “Hey,” her guard called behind her as he tried to grab her but his fingers brushed her upper arm and slipped off. She broke into a trot.

  “Lancelot,” she cooed as she reached him. Her arm slipped into his elbow even as he tried to put distance between them. She jerked him close and knew he wouldn't pull away.

  “I'm sorry, sir,” the guard said as he reached them. He gripped Guinevere's free arm and tried to pull her away from him. “I'll return her to the castle.”

  “Oh, no,” Guinevere said as she shook her head. “Lancelot can keep an eye on me. We're good friends. He'll keep me out of trouble.” She grinned at the knight and gave him a wink.

  Lancelot's nose curled and the corner of his lip pulled up in a sneer, but he nodded at the guard. “I'll watch her for a bit. When I'm ready, I'll send for you.”

  The guard looked back and forth between the two with hesitation, but he eventually bowed his head. “Very well, sir. I'll be just inside when you need me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So how did you manage to get away with having only one guard?” Lancelot asked.

  “Oh, you know me,” she laughed.

  They watched the guard walk toward the castle steps. When he was out of earshot, Lancelot turned to Guinevere. “What do you want?”

  The woman smiled and leaned against him as she pulled him into a light walk. “Why, whatever do you mean? I just wanted to walk and have a nice chat with an old friend.”

  “Don't play games, Guinevere. I know you're up to something.”

  Guinevere pressed her free hand over her chest. “Me? Why would I be up to something? I'm just as confused about this whole situation as everyone else. I have no idea what's going on.”

  Lancelot's laugh was harsh and short. “Oh, please. Don't expect me to believe that. Not coming from you.”

  “Lancelot,” Guinevere chided. “You are giving me no credit. I'm not the woman I was back then. I have been through a lot, you know. I learned so much after you died. I have changed.”

  The knight's eyebrow twitched with doubt, but he bit his tongue and stifled the response that sat on his lips. They walked in silence for several minutes until they found themselves near the wood. He pulled his arm from hers and sat beneath a tree.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  Guinevere stared down at him for several seconds, but she eventually settled herself on the ground beside him.

  “Why are you here?” he asked again. His dark eyes looked deep into her blue ones. “What is your aim?”

  She played the offended queen once more. “Lance, really, what is this? I have no--“

  “Stop it, Guin. It's just you and me. We both know who you are, who your mother is. Do you honestly think I believe she has nothing to do with this?” He gripped her arms. “Why are you here?”

  “Lance, you're hurting me,” she cried and tried to pull away from him.

  “What faery tricks are you up to this time, woman?”

  “Lance--“

  “I have to tell Arthur. It's going to break his heart, but I can't hide this from him, not again. I'm not going to let you ruin everything we've finally rebuilt. I'm not going to let you destroy him again. He went through too much. He doesn't deserve that.”

  “I'm not trying to hurt him, Lance. I love him. He is my husband. I want to--“

  “He is not your husband, you fool. He is not your king. He is with Aiofe now. They are happy, and they are good together. I won't let you screw it up.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I'm going to call your guard, and then I'm going to tell Arthur everything. I'm going to tell him everything that happened between us, I'm going to tell him everything I know. You're not going to do this again.”

  Guinevere sighed and rose to her feet as he began walking from the woods. “You're not going to do that, Lance.”

  His steps faltered, but he continued walking.

  “Lancelot, you're not going to do that.” Magic buzzed in the air, faint at first, but growing stronger with every moment.

  He stumbled and his feet grew heavy. His quick walk slowed.

  “Come back here,” she called with the sweetest voice she could muster. “Come talk to me.”

  He stopped and stood there, staring at the castle that seemed so far away.

  “Lance...” Guinevere pushed with her will, infusing the air with it and wrapping it around him like a blanket.

  He turned, slowly. “Guin,” he whispered.

  His will was battling hers. She could feel it. It hurt. Overpowering someone was so much easier with skin-to-skin contact and the battle was draining her strength faster than she expected. But she pushed more, stretching her magic to its limit, and felt his will crumble beneath hers.

  “Guin,” he whispered again, and then he was hers once more.

  “Lance,” she cooed and smiled. “Come, sit with me.” She let herself sink to the ground and her smile was weak.

  The knight settled on the ground next to her and she leaned against him. He wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Lance,” she said. “You're so easy. You always have been.”

  He grunted but didn't respond.

  “You are cute, though, so you have that, at least. That's why I have to have you and Arthur. You have the looks, the touch, but he has the strength and the power. You'll never compete with him, not really, but you can still have me in secret, just like before. When my mother takes over, we can go back to the way things were. I will be queen with Arthur, and you can be my secret lover. Would you like that?”

  “Mmhmm,” Lance grunted again.

  Guinevere looked up at him. He was a very attractive man with his dark, curly hair and brooding black eyes. “You foolish boy.” She pulled herself up with his shoulder and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  *~*~*

  THIRTEEN

  *~*~*

  “Lady Aiofe?” Lilia pushed open the big red curtain that separated the bedroom from the main room of the top floor in the castle.

  The red-head sitting on the bed sniffed and wiped at her eyes.
“Yes?”

  “Is there anything I can help you with, miss? Anything you need?”

  Aiofe gave her handmaiden a small smile. “No, Lilia, I'm fine. I really am. I'm just being stupid, that's all. I'll be fine.”

  “Would you like me to bring you some tea or something to drink?”

  “Tea would be great.” Both young women turned toward the voice that spoke near the door. Maureen walked toward them and settled into one of the plush chairs near the cold fireplace. “Come, Aiofe. Sit with me.”

  As Lilia left to retrieve the tea, Aiofe pushed herself off the bed and walked over to join her grandmother She plopped down into a chair and rested her hands on her knees. “This sucks.”

  Maureen laughed. “Love is never easy, my dear.”

  “Is it love? I don't know. I don't know anything right now.”

  The old women reached over and gently squeezed her granddaughter's shoulder. “I have some news. I'm not sure what it means or how to interpret it, but I thought you should know. And you should discuss it with Arthur.”

  Aiofe sat up and sniffed. “What kind of news?”

  “I saw Guinevere.”

  Aiofe groaned at the mention of the woman who had thrown her world into utter chaos again.

  “Just listen,” her grandmother scolded. “I saw her and Lancelot over by the woods. She was unguarded. It was just the two of them. They were arguing, that was clear. Lance was storming off, back toward the castle. Then he just stopped. He froze, like he was under a spell.”

  “What? How? Did she do it?”

  “I don't know, but then he turned around and went back to her and they were hugging under the tree. She kissed him and he didn't fight her off.”

  Aiofe stared at the unburned wood laid on the hearth. “I knew there was something off about her.”

  “Be careful when you talk to Arthur about this, my dear. He was married to her once. He may not think he has a soft spot for her, but he will. At least for awhile. You must use tact and concern. You cannot confront him. You must talk to him, gently. Show him you care. Something is happening, something we don't understand. He needs you on his side. He needs your help.”

  The young woman looked at her grandmother. “I know. I just don't know how. What if he loves her still?”

  Maureen smiled. “I don't think he does, Aiofe. The way he looks at her and the way he looks at you are very different, very different indeed. She lost him long ago. He still feels duty-bound because that is his way, but it won't last. Be there, fight for him. She won't win.”

  Aiofe's lips puckered as she looked at her, but she nodded. “Okay, I'll do my best.”

  *~*~*

  FOURTEEN

  *~*~*

  “Borton!“ Leanansidhe's shrill voice rang out through the lower levels of Castle Eiri Greine. The piles of bodies lying around the courtyard were high and starting to smell in the hot sun. She slammed her drink down on the squishy back of a fat faery that used to serve as Titania's head chef and pushed herself to her feet. “Borton!“

  The small, hunched thing scooted out from behind the massive throne. “Yes, mistress? Right here, mistress.” His knobby fingers twined with each other and he bowed obsequiously until he was so dizzy he couldn't stand up straight.

  Leanansidhe curled her nose at him. “I'm done here. I want to move down to my lab now. Bring them along.” She stalked down the steps from the dais and started across the courtyard.

  “Your lab, mistress?”

  Leanansidhe spun in the direction of her most loyal servant. As she did, her hand shot out and sparks flew. They singed the ground just in front of Borton and he squeaked as he jumped, but he didn't step back.

  “Yes, Borton,” she hissed as her lips curled into a sneer. “My lab. My father's lab, to be more precise.” She shot a look at the unconscious form of Queen Titania and grinned. “I'm going to have a little fun.”

  She started to walk away again, but Borton's gravelly voice stopped her. “Mistress? I have never been in this castle before. I do not know where it is.”

  Leanansidhe sighed and pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She inhaled twice before turning to Borton once more. Her lips were pressed into a tight line with the faintest of smiles pulled across them. “Then find out where it is. Ask someone.” She raised a long-fingered hand and beckoned to one of the guards. “You, what's your name?”

  “Urnis, your majesty,” the guard said as he dipped into a low bow.

  “Urnis, show my idiotic servant where my father's old lab is. And move all these bodies out of here.” She spun and pointed to a pile. “Bring that group down to my lab, along with Titania and any other servants that are still alive.” Her heels clicked as she started to walk across the stones once more. “Oh,” she said, turning back to Borton. “And from this point on, I am to be referred to as your highness, your majesty, or Queen Leanansidhe. I am now the ruler of Castle Eiri Greine and the Southern lands. And I am to be treated accordingly. Anyone who fails to do so,” she continued, fixing Borton with a glare, “will be locked in the dungeons and used for my personal enjoyment. Understood?”

  The servant squeaked and dropped to his hands and knees. His head clacked against the stones as he made haste in showing his loyalty. “Yes, your majesty, your queen, your holiness.”

  Leanansidhe was out the door before he finished his grovelling. She walked along the deserted, but bloody corridors. Her fingers trailed across marble and wood that she had not see for hundreds of years. Memories of a childhood long past came flooding back. Running through the halls, squealing and giggling with her small but very close knit group of friends as they ducked into side passages and hidden tunnels to avoid the wrath of guards who were sent to corral them. The tight smile softened and she almost laughed.

  Another memory fought its way forward. This memory was not of the joyous childhood, but of a later time, a darker time. Her father, the main physician for Queen Celestia, was a man of great ambition and great drive. He had dreams, ideas, many of which were frowned upon by the king and queen. But his scientific desires outweighed his sensibility, despite the pleadings of his wife. He worked in secret, hidden away in his lab beneath the castle.

  “Lea, come here, darling.” Leanansidhe's wanderings had brought her to a place she would never forget. The set of rooms she had once called home still stood, protected by the castle walls. Her mind's eye saw her father standing at the door, calling to her as she danced across the floor. She stopped immediately and ran to him.

  “What is it, papa?” She was so young, so innocent. How could she have possibly known what the future would bring?

  “I want to show you something, my dear sweet child. But it's a secret. Can you keep a secret?” He knelt in front of her and brushed a lock of black hair from her eyes.

  “Jeran, no. Please, let her be.” Her mother stepped out from the other room. Her beautiful face was a mask of fear and her eyes pleaded with Leanansidhe's father.

  “Hush, Keela. Go back to your needlework.”

  Her mother opened her mouth to protest, but her father waved a hand. The fear on the woman's face mingled with anger, but she stepped away, disappearing once more.

  “So, Lealea, can you keep a secret?”

  The little girl nodded. “Of course, papa.”

  Leanansidhe laughed as she blinked the scene away. “Oh, father, did you know what would become of us, how we would suffer for your curiosities?”

  She placed her hand on the door handle and turned. It didn't budge. She let her magic dance over it and detected spells and wards. A sneer pulled at her lip. “Amateurs.” With a small pop, the wards fell apart and the door slid open. She stepped into the room and her face fell. Nothing was as it had been when she was a child. The entire interior had been redecorated. Even the walls had been moved. The safe place she remembered was no longer there. It was but a fleeting memory in the back of her mind. Anger flooded through her veins and she grabbed a vase nearby and threw it at a closed door. I
t shattered against the wood, but the crash could not cover the whimper she heard from the other side.

  Curiosity overtook anger and she tilted her head to the side, listening for more. As she walked toward the door, she realized it was the same door that had once led to her bedroom. Her heart sped up and her breathing quickened. What would she find? What did she want to find?

  The door slid open at her touch and she caught the briefest glimpse of a small body with long blond hair squirming down to hide between the tiny gap behind the bed. A knot caught in Leanansidhe's throat as she looked around the room. Not much was the same, but it was close enough to bring back the memories once more. The bed was in the same place hers had been, with the vanity sitting in the corner, just like she had it. It was decorated differently, much brighter, much happier, but it still had the same feel of home. It was still her room.

  A small sniff came from the corner by the bed and she remembered the little girl. She crouched on the floor and made herself still. “Come out,” she said in the softest, gentlest voice she could muster. “It's all right. I promise not to hurt you. You're safe now.”

  Another sniff was followed by the rustling of blankets, but the child did not appear.

  A flicker of anger pulled at Leanansidhe's gut, but she forced it back and scooted closer to the bed. “Come out, my darling child. The danger has passed. I will protect you.”

  This time there was a shuffling and the blankets moved. A tiny blond head poked out from under the bed and stared up at her with eyes the color of a clear lake on a sunny afternoon. The tiny pink lips quivered with fear and sadness.

  Leanansidhe smiled and tilted her head toward the child. “Hello, there.”

  The little faery girl scooted out from under the bed the rest of the way and wiped her runny nose on her sleeve.

  “What's your name?” Lea asked as she pulled a handkerchief from a pocket. She handed it to the little girl who proceeded to blow her nose with the power of a hurricane.