“The night shift suits you,” she said, running a hand over the smooth fabric of his lapel. His breath caught as the scales in the power dynamic shifted back to her. These royal men were too easy.
She chuffed, brushing past him.
“Where are you going?” Jaden asked, trailing after the queen.Gods.A little vibration walked down his spine as she swayed down the hall. If she were fair game, he might have been up for the challenge. But that was his blood talking. That constant annoying urge.
Like she knew what he was thinking, Caroline flipped her white locks and over her shoulder, she said, “To fetch your uncle in the village where I left him.”
Then she was gone.
“What is your face doing, Agnes?” Caroline peered at the woman Captain Victor Carl had deposited a few minutes before. “The skin around your eye is twitching, just here.” She pointed to the corner of her eye for emphasis.
Jaden had seen to his sister, taking her riding, but Caroline had been eager to deal with the flight risk that was Agnes Ivanslohe.
Agnes only sneered, averting her eyes.
“It seems you have misjudged me yet again.” Caroline paced back-and-forth in front of Agnes’s chair, her heavy velvet skirt rustling as she walked. She’d taken to wearing heavier clothing the last week. The chill in the air didn’t affect her, but seeing her in her traditional Everstal warm weather attire unnerved the castle staff. She didn’t think it was concern for her comfort, more a fear she would blame them for the lack of it.
Caroline paused in front of Agnes, tapping her finger to her lips. “Well, I’ll be needing a wedding present for my husband, so I suppose your life will do.” This was getting boring, sparing these enemies of hers.
Angus seemed to have the same feeling. “I thought the first time we spared them was the gift?”
She would have grumbled if it wouldn’t have made her look unqueenly. Instead, she shot him a frown, then leaned down into Agnes’s face. “I take it you’ve decided to decline my offer of friendship?”
“You wouldn’t know what a friend was,” Agnes hissed, and the dart landed as intended and Caroline felt her upper lip curl. That was a lie. She had friends… look at Angus.
Turning her back to Agnes, she addressed Carl. “Confine her to her apartment until I release her. She may be escorted to the wedding because I have a job for her, but afterward, take her back.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Carl bowed his head. “And Princess Cecily?”
“The girl will have no restrictions on her privileges. If she asks why her mother isn’t permitted outside her rooms, then tell her I said her mother is not well.”
With a mocking pat on the other woman’s head, Caroline left, making a beeline for her chamber. She had friends, right? The thought nagged her all the way up the winding stairs. No, she decided. Queens didn’t need friends.
Brushing the thought aside, locking it away with all the other daggers in her heart, she crawled into bed. There was time for a few hours’ sleep, then she had a wedding to get ready for.
Chapter 9
Breicherstoodatthealtar, unable to keep his feet planted. He’d worn the official regalia of the Veetula royalty, long navy slacks, with a fine sky-blue pinstripe woven into the fabric running up his legs, which only made his height more imposing. A cropped double-breasted jacket in the same material was secured with gleaming silver buttons, a white button up and tie peaked out from beneath. Across it was an icy blue satin sash with the coat of arms for his family name and the Veetula insignia of the Stag and Doves, along with any moons showing the recognitions he’d received in service to his kingdom. Wearing it had been another fight with his brother. Hollis had finally relented and was wearing his own sash, reluctantly standing beside him as Breicher had once done for him.
He scanned the crowd. So many familiar faces, some creased with worry, others wide-eyed, probably hoping for a scene. Caroline had selected the music, traditional sounds from his kingdom meant to endear her to its people. Typical calculating Caroline. So far, it was a conventional Veetula wedding.
The song the musicians were playing came to its natural end, and the murmuring guest silenced as the arching doors to the hall cracked open. He shot a hand out steadying himself on his brother’s arm as Caroline stepped into the room.
Of course, Caroline wouldn’t have worn white, as was tradition in his homeland. Among the pale and frozen colors of the guests, the hanging panels, ice sculptures, and bleached roses, the queen stood out like a black hare on a field of virgin snow. A charcoal metallic dress sat off her shoulders, the only skin exposed, and hugged her curves until, low on her hips, it flared out like the petals of a lily. It seemed they had woven each layer with a different precious metal, giving the gauzy material a molten effect when she moved. She wore no jewelry and unbound white hair flowed down her back, almost reaching her waist.
A soft drum beat with the gentle chiming of bells, timed with each of her footsteps.
Caroline stilled before turning to Agnes, who was seated in the front row, hugging onto a mid-sized gift box like it was the last parcel of food in existence. “Agnes,” the queen said, motioning her to rise.
Agnes blinked a few times like she was coming out of a haze, then rose obediently, approaching the queen and placing the box on the altar. Her hands shook as she opened the lid and reached inside.
Caroline faced the crowd. “It is time for a new crown to represent the Joined Kingdoms,” she said. One of the first things she’d done was make him take her to the treasury to get the largest five black diamonds in their possession. The diamonds, along with several smaller stones, numerous natural grey pearls, and square cut hematite now adorned the platinum tiara gripped in what he imagined were sweaty palms.
He wasn’t sure if the crowd noticed the moment Agnes steeled herself, but steady hands brought the crown up to Caroline’s head, placing the onyx and iridescent masterpiece on the queen’s flowing white locks. Breicher was glad he wasn’t the object of either of the women’s stares as they wordlessly battled. “Kneel,” Caroline said, and his heart skipped.
Agnes sniffed, then lowered her eyes, and brought herself to her knees before the queen. Breicher flicked his gaze toward his brother searching for any sign of aggression, but Agnes’s flight had caused a rift between them. Hollis wouldn’t intervene. Agnes was at the queen’s mercy.
“Rise,” she said. When Agnes stood before her once again eye to eye, Caroline reached out a hand, cupping her cheek and mouthed something that looked likeit’s a step, sister.
