Castien shaped his lips into a smile reserved only for her. Bowing, he caught her hand and pressed his lips to her claws, then straightened in a smooth, practiced motion. “My Queen, it’s a lovely day. I would be pleased if you have a moment to join me in the gardens.”
Intrigue and amusement glimmered in her eyes. “You may have an hour of my time, Escort. My general has claimed my afternoon.”
He released her hand and extended his arm. “I will make good use of every second.”
The Queen's rose garden was the perfect place for one last memory.
The Escorts protected the Queen from herself.
She spoke of her meeting, and he catalogued the information by habit. Knowing that Akeramian ships still hovered off the coast could be useful. He had several letters of credit as well as gold. Enough to bribe a pirate.
The guards didn’t follow them into the garden. She waved for Jerome to wait in the hall. She trusted him too much. Perhaps if she were willing to take precautions, he might–
No, his way was safer.
Last night had proven he would all too easily fall into his normal patterns, grow comfortable in the palace again – and invite disaster into her bed.
It wasn’t a question of if, but when. He had hurt her once. Once was too often.
She settled into a seat at the gazebo. A chess set that he’d carved sat on the far side of the table. He followed, sliding the box to her.
Dropping all formality, Anais leaned in like an eager child. “What have you made for me this time?”
His finger remained on the lid. “You know perfectly well. You stole one, after all.”
With absolutely no sign of remorse, she swatted his hand away and opened the box. A look he’d describe as avarice appeared on her smug lips, and she slipped wooden sheaths onto her claws one at a time. They closed snugly around the tips of her fingers.
Swirling patterns decorated the wood. He’d carved flowers and birds, butterflies and feathers. This gift wasn’t for the court – it was for Anais, for the woman he adored.
She lifted the forefinger of her right hand. “I think this is the one you had to replace.”
“Yes, the wood is a little different. I couldn't find a good match. Unless you still have it?”
She removed the sheath and turned it in her hand. “I'm afraid it’s probably lost forever – I buried it in Duchess Isabel’s eye.”
He blinked. “Isabel? The Nadraken lady?”
She nodded slowly, her eyes lifting to meet his.
The faint crack of a whip echoed in his mind. He banished the memory. “I'm glad to hear it found a good home.”
The duchess was welcome to it.
A small curve softened her lips. She slipped the sheath back on. “They’re lovely, Castien. Dulled edges are a good touch. If you’re not careful, you’ll be making these for all the ladies and the little ones, as well.”
A servant set a tray on the table. Glancing at Castien, the servant bowed to Anais and handed her a small package.
He removed the coverings from the tray and chuckled. “I might be convinced to make a few simple sets. Laureline’s would have to be made out of feathers, somehow. Hmm…”
She smiled and opened the package – a slightly bulging envelope. Peering inside, her smile faltered. Gradually, the soft forest green of her eyes that he was so fond of hardened to ice.
Hoping the ill news wasn’t urgent, he poured a glass of wine. “Eat before your appetite is ruined. Have you been eating well? Jerome snapped at me when I asked.”
She set the envelope aside. “I’m not hungry. Actually, I thought we might play a quick game.” Swiftly, she removed the wooden sheaths, placed them in the box, and pulled the chess set closer.
The news must have bothered her. She played to think, sometimes.
He spread soft cheese on a slice of bread. “I’ll play if you eat, my Queen.” He handed her the bread.
