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Reyne
The very woman causing my current misery is watching me now. And though I’m attempting to converse with Lord Scott, the queen’s first commander, and Gille, whom I’ve gotten to know fairly well on our travels, I cannot help but watch her as well.
On the dais above us, Cettina sits surrounded by her ladies. It is odd to see so many women up there. Often only a lord’s wife and daughters would be seated so prominently. But here, there were no men on the dais at all.
Her father is dead. She has no uncles. As she told me earlier, she is in many ways quite alone in the world. And yet, she smiles easily. Eats and drinks with effortless grace. It is as if she were born for the role.
When I catch Erik watching me, I quickly look away.
Angry both with him and myself, I stab the meat on our shared trencher.
“’Tis already dead,” Erik says.
Gille chuckles next to him. “You should join us, Lady Reyne, on our next hunt. You’ve clearly much skill with the bow.”
Pleased someone at this table has noticed I am not some simpering maid, I thank him. “I will willingly accept your invitation.”
The meal passes with few words between Erik and I. Then, without warning, the queen stands. She holds out her hand, apparently to indicate that all others in the hall may remain seated.
“Most often, when she is finished, the meal is officially over,” Erik says, watching me. “Tonight she will apparently retire early.”
As he explains, one of Cettina’s ladies approaches us from behind.
“Lady Reyne?”
Both Erik and I turn to her.
“I am Lady Gwenllian. When you are finished with your meal, the queen would like to speak with you.”
Erik seems less than pleased. For myself, I know not what to think. When I stand, Lady Gwenllian stops me.
“It is not necessary to leave now.”
“I am finished,” I say, standing. “Pardon me,” I say to the others, “I bid you a good eve.”
Erik moves to stand as well, but I stop him.
“There is no need for you to accompany me. Unless Queen Cettina wishes to speak with us both?”
Gwenllian shakes her head.
“Then I bid you a good eve as well, husband.”
Following Lady Gwenllian from the hall, I do not spy the queen anywhere even though she left but a moment ago.
“She moves quickly,” Gwenllian says, hiking her skirts up as we move past a set of guards and ascend the circular stone stairs behind the hall.
“This will take us to the upper chambers.”
I am truly lost by the time we arrive in a long hall, again flanked by guards.
“The queen’s private chambers are up here,” she says. “Come.”
We pass wall torches and at least five separate doors before stopping in front of the one at the end of the hallway. Gwenllian knocks, and the door is immediately opened by a maid. She moves to the side, and though I wait for my companion to join me, she does not.
“Queen Cettina asked for you alone,” she says without hesitation, making me wonder if she is the dear friend the queen mentioned earlier.
“Go inside,” she prompts, and I do.
