Well, he hadn't gotten any further. Madeline had answered that Jerome knew everything he needed to know. Including Castien's tendency to swing his sword too wide.
He pondered if the captain had chosen that particular weakness for a reason.
Then he'd thought of nothing but the lethal elegance that was his Queen.
Her hair shimmered down her back, softly curled strands framing her face. Form-fitting dark red satin hung off one shoulder, while a slit down the other side at her leg gave her free range of motion. Steel glinted at her exposed thigh. Her claws were painted black and set with small diamonds that glinted like stars against the dark background.
Hanging from a slender belt was her needle-thin court blade.
If he were fit to be Consort, he would stand by her side, help her carry the weight of the crown.
He walked her out of her bedroom. Her fingers lifted from his arm. “I'll see you at lunch. We should know by then if the cure worked.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “I look forward to it. May I have a minute with Jerome?”
She glanced at her captain. “Don't hassle him too much.”
When Castien turned, the captain's hand rested lightly on his sword. Guards followed too many rules for the courtesan to keep track of, but he did know they never considered an Escort a threat. Never until him.
He suddenly didn't know where to begin. “How was she while I was in the tower? Did she sleep well? Eat well?”
Jerome answered with a flat expression. “Ask her yourself.”
That was fair.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he spoke quietly. “What has she commanded you to do about me?”
The captain turned wary eyes toward him. “Octavius cleared you. The order to guard against you has been removed.”
The hint of disapproval in his tone was promising. Castien nodded slowly. He retrieved a rose petal from his pocket. They were scattered all over her room, and he liked collecting them. His thumb rubbed the petal as he admired its soft beauty. “The steward once said that we protect her against herself.” He let thepetal fall. “My rooms should be searched on a regular basis. I should be searched before I'm allowed to be alone with her.”
Jerome's voice reflected his flat, cool stare. “You are an Escort. It would be an insult.”
“You are the captain of her guard. So guard her.”
Anger flared in the captain's eyes. “Do not tell me how to do my job. If you do not require my presence, I should not make the Queen late for her meeting.”
Jerome moved to step past him.
Once, he would have been delighted to earn the stern captain’s trust.
Castien said softly, “Vern may find ways to twist her commands, but he will not disobey. I think you will protect her no matter what. I can't ask her to do what's necessary. I'm asking you.”
He may as well have been speaking to a wall. Jerome stopped but didn't look at him. “You spoke to my guards. Do not overstep your authority again. They will not hesitate. Neither will I.”
Was that enough?
“Thank you,” Castien murmured.
Jerome darted a glance at him that he didn't care to read, then strode after the Queen.
He had plenty to occupy himself with until noon. Darius was available for a sparring session where the courtesan managed a few good hits. Then Ash knocked him on his ass, and he spent an hour training Darius how to control the wolf. It did not go well. The other Escort left with a shredded pant leg. The wolf dashed off toward the main doors.
Castien freshened up in his room. He plucked the Consort’s ring from his pocket and set it at the center of his table. Beside the precious object was a box and a letter. Changing his mind, he picked up the box.
It had only been a few hours, but the sight of the Queen lightened his heart. She was resplendent as she snapped her fingers and commanded Ash to sit. He captured the moment in his mind, wondering if he could carve it – wolf and woman, wild and powerful, proud and beautiful.
Her head tilted up, and emerald ice thawed to forest green. He would never be able to capture the colors of her gaze.
