There was something about him that made her think he might be more than just a guard one day. Something about his countenance, his commanding presence, which stood out to her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. And Gods, the man was handsome, in a timeless, regal way. He’d be dashing in a crown, and when their eyes met, her world shifted.
Somewhere buried under the extinguished coals of her black heart, an ember remained. And Johnneth was primed to stoke a flame from the ashes. Maybe all he needed was a little spark.
An hour later, the queen emerged from the bathing chamber. Johnneth was about to go in to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep in the tub when she’d finally slipped out, wearing an uncharacteristically fluffy robe. It was black still. He had to laugh.
He followed Caroline into the sitting room and stood by the doorway as she curled up on the end of the tufted red couch and eyed the plate of little sandwiches which had been placed on the side table.
“I thought you might be hungry. You should eat.” Johnneth gestured to the plate. “Would you like wine or water?”
She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Both.”
Picking up a sandwich, she sniffed it, then took a tentative bite, setting the uneaten portion back on the plate. She picked up the wine instead, and Johnneth frowned at the half-discarded sandwich.
“Do you ever get to see your family?” she asked before he could tell her to finish it.
Johnneth froze. “I…”
“Come, stand in front of me so I can see you while you speak.”
He obeyed, pulse pounding in his ears. All she had to do was sense that he was lying and she would compel him to spill his secrets, which would earn him nothing less than death. And he would fail. Johnneth considered how much of the truth he could spin into his tale.
“I haven’t seen them in five years,” he answered.
“Since you joined the service to the crown? Is that right?”
“Yes,” Johnneth said, leaning back against the mantel beside the roaring fire, trying to appear more casual than he felt. He was curious about where this line of questioning was headed. The queen reclined, sipping her wine, and fidgeting with the tie of her robe. She didn’t seem suspicious of him. The distant look in her eye made him think she wasn’t entirely present.
“Do you miss them?” she asked, staring not at him, but at the flames.
“Every day,” he answered, considering how much to share. “My older brother and I are close. He even saved my life once when I got into a situation which was a little over my head. I idolized him as a child.”
“But you still chose to come here, to serve me?” She was looking at him now. “What made you want to do that?”
Stick to the truth. “My duty called to me. One day my brother and I were bedding women, drinking, and carrying on, driving his wife crazy with our antics.” Johnneth chuckled at the memory. “The next I was heading to enlist. Honestly, it was getting old. I needed a purpose, so that’s when I decided to join the guard. I set myself a goal to make it as your personal guard. I wanted nothing more, and I worked every day to earn my way up in the ranks.”
Caroline’s eyes gleamed as he spoke passionately about his desires. If she only knew his true meaning. Her throat bobbed as she took another sip of the berry liquid she was swirling in her glass.
“How noble. So here you are. Is it everything you thought it would be?”
Was she everything he thought she would be, was the better question. Johnneth sensed the hidden question beneath. Caroline Dallimore was more than the Cruel Queen from the stories that circulated of her. He let the corner of his mouth twist up, knowing a dimple would appear in his cheek, and allowed himself to let his gaze slip across her face, memorizing her perfect features. Johnneth would know her so well, that when he struck, she wouldn’t see it coming.
She eyed him, still waiting for an answer.
“No, Your Majesty,” he said. “You are so much more.”
Chapter 8
“Canyoubelievethis?”The queen held a slip of parchment she received from the vintner that morning overhead. Angus snapped it out of her hand and quickly read it, chuckling at the contents.
“Four days,” Caroline continued. “One of those traitors lasted four days.”
It is what Angus had been cautioning her about for the last year. The people were becoming restless, waiting for ten years for their queen to strike Veetula. Deliver the blow as retribution King Thom’s death demanded. Some were even questioning why she hadn’t done it yet as Dominique had suggested—as everyone seemed to keep reminding her. Still, the queen hadn’t struck. He had certainly gotten their armies up to speed. Even presented several covert plans to eliminate the Veetula royals.
“They’re becoming more defiant, Caroline,” Angus said.
“You warned me this would happen. Yes, yes—I know.” Caroline fluttered a hand through the air, waving him off.
“They want blood, Your Majesty.” Angus braced his hands on the table and leaned over giving her a stern look he hoped would convey the urgency weighing on him. Dominique was right. She needed to act.
