by Hazel Grace
Another knock sounded on the door, and Lucy went to it. “Your Grace,” she welcomed.
George stepped in, magnificently dressed in an emerald green cravat with a black coat. His hair was casually combed to the side, looking rested.
“You look wonderful,” he complimented, with the first smile I’d seen in days.
“Do I? I haven’t been able to see.” I gave a playful grin in Miranda’s direction.
Walking over to the mirror, I looked into it, not recognizing the girl in front of me. The dress complimented my skin tone and hugged my curves more than I would have picked out, but it still looked beautiful.
“You both did a marvelous job,” I commended them. “I don’t look so haggard.” I glanced over at George, looking hopeful. “This is just a small affair, right?”
“It better be. I want peace and quiet.” He held out his arm and I accepted it, letting him guide me down the large hallway.
“Did you settle in well?” George asked. We turned a corner, which opened more things to discover. Various paintings of scenery and stone statues of angelic females graced the walls. I made a mental note that one would look nice in our foyer. “Ava?”
“Hm?” I murmured, still studying the decor.
“Did you settle in well?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied.
“I’m sorry for my sour mood the last few days.” That received my full attention. He rarely apologized.
“No need. It was, like you said, a trying few days.”
“Regardless,” George continued. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you so often.”
I smiled. “I’m used to you snapping, George. You used to chastise me at every moment.”
George straightened. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Don’t get defensive,” I told him. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” George replied. “My eye is killing me, but it makes for a great story.”
“Have you been telling your servants outlandish tales?” I teased.
George cracked a smile. “Maybe just a few.” He placed his hand on mine that was settled at his forearm. “How are you doing?”
“Better than expected, actually.”
“That’s my strong girl. I was worried sick.”
“I know. We are all right now; everything's back to being somewhat normal,” I said, squeezing his hand lightly.
George stopped in the middle of the hallway, forcing me to face him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” He looked down at our hands.
“No need to think of such things, George,” I comforted. “I wouldn’t have gone out without a fight.” I winked, and he chortled, then hugged me.
“Thank God.”
“I hate to interrupt this tender moment, but Queen Terror is looking for you, brother,” Garrett called down the hall. I peered over to see Garrett, arms crossed, looking at us intently.
George sighed. “Ready?”
I looked up at him and smiled weakly. “Ready.”
He placed my arm back into the crook of his, and we walked toward his brother, whose eyes never strayed from me. I felt like I would be set on fire at any moment because if Garrett’s looks could mimic actions, I’d be in flames right now.
George stopped outside the door of the dining room. “I forgot to tell you,” he started. “I’m courting someone.”
My eyes widened. “You’re what?”
“Her name is Madelyn Stratford,” he said. “She is the oldest daughter of a Judge in Vorset. I’ve only been courting her for—”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “This is wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You would like her,” George replied, grinning. “She loves to read and paint.
“I’m sure I will. I’ll start praying for her. She is going to need it.” I studied Garrett, who still hadn’t moved. “Are you going to stand there all night looking like that?”
He uncrossed his arms, walked over to the wooden door, and opened it, motioning us in. “After you,” he replied, with an over-exaggerated bow.
The room was lit with dozens of candles and a roaring fire. Cecilia stood in a gold dress that sparkled, pearls etched perfectly into it, demanding attention from the room. I shifted in annoyance; my patience didn’t want to handle this today.
“Evening, my darling,” she hailed with her arms outstretched. She squeezed me tightly, and then George.
“Would you like some refreshment?” she asked. A servant appeared immediately, and she handed me a flute of champagne.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I welcomed the drink to tamper my nerves.
“Come and meet my dearest friend,” she said, walking over to a woman sitting comfortably in an arm chair, “Natalie Dawson.”
I froze. She wouldn’t.
Anger brimmed in my veins. She had invited the conniving woman who had chased George down for years. I clenched my jaw, keeping the words that wanted to spill out of my mouth at bay…for the moment.
Lady Natalie Dawson daintily held out a hand for me to shake. My instinct was to smack it away, but I took it anyway. The woman had aged just as well as Cecilia; dark chestnut hair, that was put into a perfect bun on top her head. Her light brown eyes still held their splendor, and the only signs of age were the slight wrinkles.
“My, Ava Barlow,” she began. “I haven’t seen you since you were a child. Your beauty proceeds you, as I was told.”
“Lady Dawson,” I strained. “Lovely for you to be here. I didn’t know we’d have guests.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she conceded. “I don’t get to spend much time here, but with Her Majesty’s birthday celebration tomorrow, I get to spare a few days away from my duties.”
“Of course,” I said. “I just hope we don’t keep you from your husband for too long.”
Cecilia and Natalie tittered softly. Natalie placed a hand on her chest, drawing attention to her low-cut violet gown. “I never married again, my dear. No other man caught my selected interest for an extended period of time, until recently.” Her gaze slipped past me, likely focusing on George.
Tactfully, I stepped to the side slightly, blocking her view and forcing a chuckle. “Oh, Lady Dawson, that is marvelous. He must be a handsome, older gentleman. Pray tell, who is he?” I watched her swallow, peering up at Cecilia for help, but the Queen gave her none.
Garrett
Chapter 10
At dinner, I sat next to my father, who babbled on about the attack on Ava and George, but my thoughts were occupied by the threat in the room. Lady Natalie Dawson. The pesky woman must have gotten it in her head to try again for George’s attention, and I didn’t need another issue. George was searching for a bride, so Natalie couldn’t wait to get her claws into him.
George’s courtee, Madelyn, was sweet and quiet. The daughter of a politician in Vorset, a town at our southern border, she raised money for various charities. I’d done more than enough research on her to make sure she wasn’t tainted by power or money. My only concern was if she could handle the pressure of the crown.
“We need to figure out who Pierce was working for quickly,” Father mumbled. “I want these men captured and killed.”
“I have John working on it,” I advised, taking a bite of venison. “I should hear something back in a day or so.”
“And Pierce’s men?”
“In the dungeon. My men are interrogating them.” I would try all means of torture necessary to get one of them to speak.
“You’re doing a good job, son,” my father complimented. “Those Elite Eight of yours do wonders. You need to train more, we need a whole damn army of those type of beings.”
“Thank you.”
It felt good to be needed by my father since we hadn’t much of a chance to get to know each other. When I was young, my mother moved my sister and I back to Aruna, where I attended school. I rarely came to Telliva, mainly because Cecilia hated me, and my mother urged me away from h
er.
A clatter rang through the dining room and my gaze went to Ava. Her cheeks blazed pink, as she took deep, long breaths while shooting a dangerous glare at Lady Dawson.
“A politician?” Lady Dawson gasped, brows raised. “So, your table is filled with criminals and rapists?” She was looking at Madelyn, who paled.
Ava placed a hand on her back in silent comfort. “That was uncalled for, Lady Dawson.”
“Excuse me?” Lady Dawson snorted, hand to her chest.
Ava brows deepened. “I said, it was uncalled for. This dinner was supposed to be a delightful, quiet night. Throwing jabs at Lady Stratford is childish and rude.”
Lady Dawson glanced at Cecilia, who sat beside her, before speaking again. “I believe it should be duly noted with whom we are sharing a meal.” Cecilia smirked while delicately taking a nibble of her food.
“Oh shit,” Father mumbled next to me.
“Lady Stratford is my guest,” George said, his jaw locked in place. “I won’t allow her to be interrogated at dinner.”
Natalie tsked. “Someone needs to. Really, Your Grace. For one, she isn’t even Tellivan, and for two, we have enough killers running around trying to eliminate you. For all we know, she could be one of them.”
“That’s enough,” Ava growled. Her fingers clenched around Madelyn’s hand, turning her knuckles white.
“You’ve forgotten your manners, Lady Barlow,” Natalie shot back. “You obviously weren’t locked in that orphanage long enough to—”
“You don’t have a right to be here, harassing people.” Ava stood abruptly from her chair, the wood scraping loudly against the floor.
“Ava,” Cecilia bellowed. “Really! You can’t speak to someone like that. How rude and—”
“And you should be talking, Lady Dawson,” George broke in. “With the dishonorable men and stable boys that visit your bed chambers.”
“George!” Cecilia yelled, her face flushed.
“That’s enough,” my father rumbled. “I have a war going outside this room, I don’t need one in here.” He looked over at Madelyn and Ava. “Ladies, I apologize for the awful conversation. I will pay better attention to the guest list next time.”
Madelyn nodded shakily, but Ava’s face was stone sour. She looked pissed beyond all measure.
“Would you mind excusing me, Your Majesty?” Ava asked, looking at Father, who nodded.
“Of course, my dear,” he replied gently. “Take all the time you need.”
She turned, striding toward the door. Without thinking, I stood from my own seat and followed her. When we were both outside the room, she started to pace the hallway.
“Avie, are you okay?” She nodded. I stepped in front of her, forcing her to halt. “Do I need to ask you again?”
She looked at my chest and closed her eyes, her breathing coming in slow, steadied waves. “I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” I said, lifting her chin to look up at me. “You were going to rip her throat out if the king hadn’t stepped in.”
“I don’t know why I got so upset,” she confided. “It was stupid. I just…have this loathing for that woman. She used to make George so uncomfortable. He told me things that she used to do, and I…” She tried to look down, but I held her chin up.
“Let’s go outside,” I told her. She gave me a weak smile, and I linked her arm with mine. I took her to the back of the palace, through the kitchens, where curious nobles wouldn’t stop us. The kitchen was bustling with servants and cooks, who were in the middle of making dinner for everyone in the palace. Ava reached over and grabbed an apple out of a basket as we exited through the back door.
The night air was cool, with the sounds of crickets singing around us. I took off my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. Ava looked up, thanking me with a smirk. Then she proceeded to take a bite of her apple and continued walking.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Much. Thank you again,” she replied. She scanned the sky, and I followed her gaze to the spread of stars. “It’s so beautiful. I used to study constellations at the orphanage. I never did find all of the Crown Bijou. The Zenelou point gave me great difficulty.”
I rotated to the east sky and examined it. “There is the Aldebaran.” I pointed. “Next to that arrangement of three dim stars.” Ava stepped closer to me, following my finger. “If you follow the arrangement, you’ll see dimmer stars in alignment. Look to the left; it’s that tiny star that is flickering rapidly.”
“That’s the Zenelou point?” she gasped.
“It is,” I replied. Ava squealed, jumping up in the air. She turned, embracing me in a hug. As soon as my arms wrapped around her, she stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, crossing her arms and blushing. “It’s just that…I’ve been looking for that constellation for years, and I had given up hope that I’d ever find it.”
I smiled. “I’m at your disposal. You can hug me whenever you wish.”
“I—” She let out a stuttered laugh. “Thank you.” The fact that this woman, who fought off a viper moments ago, was nervous just by hugging me, intrigued me.
“No, thank you,” I countered, studying the way the moonlight glimmered on her face. “I don’t get hugged often by beautiful women.”
She wrapped my coat around her body more tightly. “I didn’t know flattery was one of your many skills,” she teased. I stepped closer, buttoning up the coat to keep the chill off her.
“I’ve learned many things since you’ve last seen me,” I replied, holding her eyes hostage.
Her lips quirked. “Like what?”
“I can sew and—”
“You cannot!” Ava chuckled.
I laughed, buttoning the last button. “I can. Who else is going to fix the holes in my training gear?”
Ava shrugged. “A maid?”
I shook my head. “I don’t trust anyone here. They’ll put itching powder in my shirts or something.”
Ava laughed harder. “Oh, now you are too paranoid, Garr. Good to know, in case I get a hole in my dress, though.”
I smirked. “I’m expensive.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mmhmm.”
I belted out in laughter and placed a hand on her cheek. “You, Avie, are still just as charming as I remember.”
Her eyes never left mine as she curtsied. My skin tingled, as though she had the power to suck my soul right out of me, making me feel vulnerable.
“Let’s get you inside so you don’t catch a cold,” I suggested, needing to get back to the safety of people. Placing my hand on her back, I escorted her to the palace, trying to keep my mind off those emerald irises.
George
Chapter 11
I settled on a navy-blue chair in my father’s “crusade room” with a glass of brandy. My father chatted and paced the floor about the festivities of my mother’s birthday celebration, and I tuned him out. After Lady Dawson’s attendance last night, my mother had pissed me off and confirmed she was trying to get rid of Madelyn.
“So, what was it that you called me in for?” I asked, growing tired. “I promised Garrett we’d practice sparring for the tournament.” Father stopped and leaned an arm against the wooden mantel over the fireplace. A large painting of him, dressed in an elegant blue robe with his crown, hung above it.
“It’s Lady Stratford,” he replied, pausing.
I shrugged. “What of her?”
Father sighed. “You must stop courting her.” I removed the glass of brandy from my lips and furrowed my brows as he continued. “It isn’t that she isn’t lovely and kind, she is. I just don’t think she has the stomach to be a queen.”
“Is this you speaking, or Mother?” I asked.
He brought a glass decanter of brandy over from the liquor cart and refilled my glass with a generous amount. “Only me. Even though your mother has made it perfectly clear, in her own way, this is me talking to you. Father to son.”
“Madelyn is of good breedin
g; she would be the ideal woman for my children,” I said. “She could learn to fit the role of Queen.” Father sat across from me, propping his feet on the small table between us.
“It’ll take years for her to absorb it all. Plus, the people have to grow to love her, accept her as their Queen.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Isn’t that what you did with mother? She isn’t Tellivan.”
My father took a gulp of his brandy and smacked his lips. “And the people hate her,” he said bluntly. I gaped at him. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I found a solution.”
I narrowed my eyes, leery. “And that would be?”
“Ava.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“She would be perfect, George. She—”
“No.”
“She has already been made for the role,” Father put in. The phrase “royal chained” rolled in my head when I thought of ‘Ava’ and ‘Queen’ in the same sentence; it was how she used to describe it.
“She doesn’t want it,” I stated. “I’m not going to put this on her.”
Father crinkled his face. “Put this on her? It is an honor to be called upon to rule this beautiful country.”
I tsked. “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
My father stood, his gray hair disheveled. “Don’t be an ungrateful ass. Just because we are dealing with rebels in our country doesn’t mean it’s less worthy.”
I swirled the liquid in my glass, giving me something to do so that I didn’t lose my temper. “You brought her into this mess the moment you made her an heir. Now she has to watch her back.”
“I’ll stand by my decision of making her an heir,” Father ground out, pacing the room, across the faded line he’d put into the rug from prior rants. “I had my heart planned on this arrangement. Ava fits you like a glove, would keep you in line. The people love her; she loves them. I needed to make sure I had a second option. It’s horrible to think about, but…it’s what I have to think about.”
I bowed my head in agreement. “Ava would, indeed, be beneficial,” I conceded. “For the crown, not for her. I won’t break our deal.”
He stopped and turned toward me. “This was a courtesy. I wasn’t asking.”