She closed her eyes. He was gone. Again. Taken by Nadraken, again. Her body was too weak to produce tears or screams.
"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely.
Octavius bowed and left them alone.
"We'll get him back," her father murmured, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand.
She nodded once. "Stay?"
"Of course." He leaned to kiss her forehead. His lips were cold. Or her head was too warm. "Rest, my heart. Heal. Then we fight."
A faint smile curved her lips. Yes. She'd kill the Queen of Nadraken if that was the only way to free Castien. The bitch Queen and her entire court.
Chapter 12
Anais
Only after she was able to walk from her bed to the water closet did Vern confide his suspicions.
Her immediate response was to reject the notion. Castien would never harm her. But he had been acting strangely, his mood volatile. Perhaps he’d had a different reason than she assumed for his matchmaking.
The ever-practical Queen accepted Vern’s suspicions. It made sense. The tournament provided a screen – chaos within which he could contact Nadraken without being followed. From there, access to the poison, and the plan to immediately flee.
Castien made a perfect assassin and spy. Hadn’t she wanted to use him as a spy herself?
The reasoning had flaws, but so did his mind. Nadraken had held him for three moons. A lot could happen in three moons.
Madeline dabbed at her cheeks with cotton and rouge. Weakness weighed down her bones, and her skin was still pale. The rouge barely disguised her ill state – too much and it was obvious, too little and the sickly pall showed through.
Her rage wasn’t weak.
In the courtesan’s room, they'd found nothing of Nadraken. No messages, no tokens, no vials.
But in a corner of his closet, hidden by shoes and clothes, was a small box. Inside had been wooden carvings.
A half-painted butterfly, its iridescent wings sparkling in sunlight.
A hawk in flight with talons open for the strike.
Elaborately engraved sheaths that fit her claws perfectly.
Her heart screamed that he would never harm her. Yet the reality was that he had poisoned her, lied to Jerome, murdered two rose guards, and fled into the arms of his former captors.
That Nadraken deserved her rage was without question. If Castien had willfully attempted to kill her, she would give him a chance to explain himself. He had earned that much.
Then necessity would demand that she put a sword through his heart.
The dress Madeline helped her into was simpler than usual. Slim black and red satin tied up with thin silver ribbons at the waist. The long gown fell to her feet, swirling around glossy black heels with each step.
Anais tugged the ribbons off. In their place, she wrapped a belt and strapped on her thin blade. The Queen felt like murdering someone today. Things would be easier if everyone knew that right away.
Her council of snakes needed to be tamed. Vern’s handling was a bit stiff, and telling them she was alive wasn't the same as her walking into the council chambers.
She made it to her seat without a stumble or shake. Weakness was such a deadly thing.
Ten council members bowed and sat. All of them convening at once was rare these days. They had probably been planning her succession. Such a pity she had to disappoint them.
“Good morning, councilors.” Her throat scratched a bit. It couldn't be helped. “It pleases me to see each of you here, together. Perhaps we can accomplish something for once. Shall we begin?”
