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I grow light-headed, but keep up the rushed pace. “They left?”
“Yes, milady, they departed once Captain Alestho became your blade.”
I halt, and the guards behind me grunt as they stumble to avoid me.
“D’Artaron is my blade.”
My guards break formation and line up in front of me, looking as uncomfortable as ever.
“He’s still my blade, isn’t he?” When nobody answers, I demand one the way D’Artaron taught me a queen does: “Answer me.”
“Alestho is your blade now,” Claudette says.
“You knew?”
She hangs her head. “Chloe, much has happened to secure your throne.”
“This is not about the throne.”
Claudette dismisses the guards, but she’s not their commander or captain, and they have orders. Instead of leaving us, they spread out as much as possible to give us some semblance of privacy. The queen’s guards are sworn to secrecy.
I face Claudette. “You pretended like nothing was happening while you and Alestho conspired with D’Artaron behind my back.”
“We all work for you, Chloe.”
“No matter what you tell yourself, the three of you work for the Spring throne, not for me. If you work for me you’d—” I pause to gather myself so that I don’t cry. ”You’d help me with D’Artaron. You would advise me on how to best please him so that he’ll return to my chambers.”
Claudette’s eyes are as large as saucers. “I wasn’t aware he ever visited your chambers in such a way.”
I lift my chin. “Well, he has.”
Claudette reels back as if I slapped her. Perhaps she is a little wounded that he chose me over her, even if their contractual union broke many centuries ago. Or perhaps I am a terrible sister and an even worse lover.
“What did he do to you?” she asks.
“He disciplined me.”
Claudette blinks. “Anything else?”
I nod. “He made me choke on his shaft while I knelt between his legs, with his fingerprints on my red bottom.”
Claudette swallows, and I continue. “And guess what? I’ve never felt more alive in my life. He’s the one, sister. He’s the one. So when you tell me seven suitors are waiting for me at the dinner, in my mind, there could be seven hundred. Not one of them is going to make me feel the way D’Artaron does.”
“You are in love with him.”
“I adore him. Some spans, I adore him so much, it hurts my heart.” Tears threaten to spill.
“Oh no, Chloe. But you know him, you know him from stories, from my stories, from Alestho’s tales, heck, even his family has told us many times he’s married to his job and his oath of loyalty to the Summer king is as strong as iron. He can’t serve as the commander and your mate at the same time.”
“Why not?”
“Because if he is your mate, then he is also the Spring king.”
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30
D’ARTARON
