Page 143 of Reign

“Queen Regina,” Bronwyn corrected briskly. “Don’t forget her title—she can be ruthless when she feels like her queenship’s being questioned.”

I nodded; I’d seen glimpses of Regina’s hotheadedness.

After a brief sniff of the air, Bronwyn asked, “Is there someone else in here?”

I shook my head. “No, just me.”

The other goblinettes exchanged fleeting looks, as if they could smell Fitzroy’s lingering scent in the chamber.

Bronwyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Queen Regina has requested all dress in black today,” she stated.

As she busied herself organizing the garments, I asked, “And why’s that?”

“It’s not my place to question orders,” she replied, handing me a chemise.

“You can always ask me anything,” I said, accepting my undergarment from her.

Bronwyn gave me a warm smile. “I know—you’re different from the others.”

Once I was dressed, I wandered the castle in search of Fitzroy, wanting to ask why he hadn’t stayed the night. From the balcony, I spotted him in the courtyard below. He paced back and forth along the stone path—lost in thought. Light broke through the trees, casting a soft glow on his captivating face. Just the sight of Fitzroy warmed me, as if he were my sun. After what had transpired the night before, I viewed him through a different lens—a more favorable one. It was impossible not to feel closer to him after we’d been as intimate as two living things could be.

Fitzroy noticed me watching him from above. Without hesitation, he walked over, looking skyward as I leaned over the railings to gaze down at him.

“Good morrow,” he called up.

Fitzroy gave me his smoldering smile, and for the first time, it didn’t irk me. Instead, I found it charming. I wanted to ask why he’d left in the middle of the night, but I held my tongue, wary of eavesdroppers.

“Come,” he ordered, beckoning to me. “I’ve some terrible news.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, worrying he might tell me he regretted last night.

“Come down here.”

I hurried along the balcony, hastily skipping down the stairwell. I didn’t slow my pace until I was within arm’s reach of Fitzroy. He rested a hand on my waist, pulling me close to press a gentle peck on my cheek—something he’d never done before, yet I liked it. That small sign of affection eased my worries.

Fitzroy exhaled sharply. “Wolver’s dead.”

My relief was short-lived.

“Wha—how?”

“In the early hours of this morning, I was awakened by frantic footsteps outside your chamber. I feared the castle was under siege, so I went to investigate. On my way, I crossed paths with Billy. He told me that late last night, after we’d retired to your bedchamber, Wolver had gone on a patrol of the fortress. He flew too close to Cambas, and both he and his wyvern were shot down by archers.”

“Regina must be distraught,” I said, feeling a pang of pain in my chest for her loss. “Have you spoken with her?”

Fitzroy shook his head. “She’s summoned all of her courtiers to the Great Hall. I was waiting for you to wake so we could brave it together.”

I took his arm, and we hesitantly walked toward the hall.

The oaken doors were propped open, revealing the scenes inside. Hundreds of candles were scattered across the floor, with flowers—poppies, bluebells, and daffodils—woven throughout the flames. Regina, draped in a black cloak, knelt on the tiles, hunched over something swaddled in cloth. At her side was Elizebeth, flicking through a grimoire resting in her lap. She recited various incantations, her fingers splayed as she held her palms toward the object Regina cradled.

As we entered, my gaze caught on a pointy-eared man I didn’t recognize, carefully sorting through vials of shimmering liquid.

Elizebeth sighed. “Herla,” she called to the elf beside her. “Did you find the elixir I asked for?”

“No,” Herla replied, his thick brows pinched with worry. “Not that I think any potion will help. In all my time as a healer, I’ve never known a remedy to revive someone from the dead.”

Herla picked up a bundle of smoldering lavender, wafting the curling wisps of smoke over what looked like tufts of gray fur.