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“Over there,” I said as I pointed at the chest of drawers near the bed. “Up on top.”
“Yes, Lady Alex—yes, my queen.”
I chuckled a little. It had been difficult for Janet, who addressed me so frequently, to change my title. She apologized for it often, and it reminded me of the first days with Branford, when I could not stop referring to him as my lord.
My Branford.
Janet and I continued to organize the rooms. I was glad she still seemed to be able to chat with me, regardless of the crown that was now on my head.
“Watch, Janet,” I said as I bent down to organize all of Branford’s things on the shelf under the water basin. He was quite particular
about where they went, and I was careful to put them in the same positions they had been in before.
“I see, my queen,” Janet said. She stood up and smiled at me. “I keep thinking maybe if I…if I can do everything right, maybe someday…”
She did not finish her sentence, but I knew what she meant.
“Branford has a very difficult time accepting people,” I told her softly. “It is his nature to not trust.”
“I have tried to serve him as I do you,” she replied. “What else can I do?”
I shook my head slowly.
“There is nothing, I’m afraid,” I told her. “Perhaps in time he will become accustomed to your presence enough not to be so harsh with you.”
“Does he think my performance inadequate?”
“No,” I said, trying to reassure her. I walked over to Janet and placed my hands on her shoulders. “Your service is exemplary, and I have told him such. Besides, you are also a good friend to me.”
Janet’s cheeks darkened, and she smiled shyly.
“Surely not,” she said quietly. “I am but your servant.”
“You are my friend,” I said, insisting. When she looked up at me, I hugged her. She placed her arms around my back and held me for a moment. When I released her, there were tears in her eyes.
“Thank you, my queen,” she whispered. “I enjoy being at your side more than you will ever know.”
We went back to our work for a time, but soon I needed a reprieve. I stepped out of the room just to get away from it for a while. It felt very strange to be in the royal chambers at all. I had been comfortable in our rooms before, and now all I could think was that Camden had died here. Even though the bed and the rest of the furniture were from our other room, it still felt unnatural. The only thing I truly enjoyed about the room was that it was there where I could remove the crown that had been placed upon my head.
Branford had talked before about not wanting the crown—not wanting to be king. I had never really thought much about how it would change my position. Everything in my life still felt so strange to me, even after more than two years. In my mind, I spent more days feeling like a servant than I did a noble.
I reached up to my head and felt the cool metal that circled it. Though it was not a large crown, it felt heavy on my head. I leaned against the stone wall that overlooked the gardens and breathed in the fresh air for a moment. It always helped to clear my head. Just as I was about to turn back, I saw movement near the entrance and watched Branford walk quickly into the gardens with Princess Whitney at his heels. As Branford tried to escape from her, Whitney berated him from behind.
“You know it will happen, Branford,” Whitney said. “You are not prepared for war, so why do you hold out when the outcome is inevitable? You know I will be your queen.”
“You and your father underestimate me,” Branford replied curtly.
“Well, you are very well versed in the art of underestimating your opponents!” she said with a laugh. “That is why your kingdom is in shambles and at our mercy.”
“You should, perhaps, remember your place,” Branford said to her. “If you are here to convince me to marry you, another approach might be more successful.” He laughed, and the sound was cruel. I had never heard such a noise from him before. “As if I would ever consider it!”
“You need an heir,” she said, and her hand grasped that of my husband. She pulled him to her, and though I could see the resistance in his shoulders, he still allowed her to place his hand upon her belly. “I can give you one. I do not even care if you keep her in a room close to us as long as I am queen, and she is a servant, as she should be.”
“I will not do that!” Branford snapped at her as he pulled away and turned his back on her. He began to walk out of the garden.
“It will happen, Branford!” she called after him. “Either you do it now without bloodshed, or you are forced to do it later with a sword at your back!”
I heard her laughter flow up from the gardens below as she slowly followed my husband out of my view. At that moment, I wished I had been taught the skills of an archer so I could pierce her heart where she stood.
