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Queen Ambrose blinked and a man appeared at her side. His suit was tailored to fit his muscular build, his jaw clean shaven and hair cut close to the scalp. He stood steady on his feet, his legs set wide to support his frame. Both arms were clasped behind his back, the picture of standing attention.
Parting on a breath, Ambrose’s lips opened briefly before she forced her mouth closed again. Where had he come from and how had she not seen him? Her intense stare bore into him looking for every perfection and the one imperfection.
Though she suspected him Fae she found very little about him to be so pleasurable to call it something flawless. There was a hump in his nose that made the tip sit at an odd angle on his face. Perhaps it had been broken a time or two. His throat had a few shallow scars that suggested he’d narrowly avoided getting his throat split open. One eye squinted more than the other and there was the slighted wheeze to each of his breaths—which only made it more peculiar that he was able to sneak up on Ambrose.
The longer she looked the more familiar his features became. Though once his nose hadn’t been quite so crooked, his hair had been long enough to braid back, and his frame had been a bit slimmer she did know this man.
“Burke?” Ambrose exhaled his name. He’d been a great ally who’d risen to help train the humans to fight the Fae. Before that even, he’d been something more. She should have recognized him much faster but he looked almost like a new person. What had happened in this past year under Ophelia’s rule to turn him into…this?
“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you. I hope you are well,” the queen amended.
“As well as can be expected.” His deep green eyes flicked to Ophelia quickly before he gave Ambrose a small bow. Certainly, he bowed lower for Ophelia.
“I would like to give you a couple of options,” Ophelia said to Ambrose. “You may change and return dressed appropriately or you may retire for the night.”
“Retire?” It was important to keep her composure in front of Ophelia. Her sister would use anything and everything against her if given the opportunity. She made sure her fingers were relaxed upon the staff especially as Ophelia’s attention traveled across her body. No white knuckles. No exposure of the true emotions that ran just under the surface.
“Should you not end this in respect of our fallen sister? Do you not mourn?” Ambrose surprised herself at the evenness of her tone.
Ophelia’s laugh floated around the room like a butterfly set free. She’d always been good at making her laugh sound as charming as she tried to be. Ambrose’s laugh all too often sounded like a piglet. Echoes of her laugh sounded off throughout the gathering. Whatever the queen found funny so would the people—even if they hadn’t a clue what she was laughing about. It was enough to make Ambrose shake her head.
“End a party as good as this?” She waved her hand, golden rings glistening under the many chandeliers overhead. “That sounds like a crime. Almost all of Marlux is here.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, I am.”
Burke shuffled quietly between them. This wasn’t the first time he’d borne witness to some sort of disagreement between this family.
He gave a cough, scarred throat bobbing. “Queen Ambrose, might I go ahead and escort you to your room? The crowd can get a little overwhelming.”
Ambrose narrowed her eyes at Ophelia who only batted her long eyelashes. Heat traveled through the sleeve of her long shirt, Burke’s hand settling gently on her forearm. A warning. Not that he’d do anything, but should things escalate with Ophelia the last thing either of them wanted was for it to get out of hand in front of all these witnesses. No, they’d save the fight for private.
Gently, she placed her hand onto Burke’s. An acceptance of his offer. Another pause in a lifelong battle.
They didn’t need magic to clear a path for either of them to walk this time. Burke seemed to have his own presence about him. Drunken bodies tripped over themselves to get out of his way.
What had Ophelia done to him? What had he allowed himself to become? Was he as much a monster as they were?
Burke turned them away and found another door, this one easily mistaken as just a bare strip of wall space. How Burke was able to find the door knob camouflaged amongst the golden wallpaper was a testament to his knowledge about this castle.
Music followed them into rooms shrouded in darkness and filled with grinding bodies to others spelled to look as though they were walking through clouds or underneath the ocean. One final door suppressed the notes that had followed them no matter where they went. More magic. Another show of power.
“If you had sent word of your travels, I would have made sure there were proper arrangements made for you,” Burke told her.
“I didn’t want anyone to be aware of my travels. It is much safer that way in these trying times.”
Not that they appeared to be all that trying to Opheliaapparently.
“I understand that.”
Together they continued in a stiff silence until Burke slowed their walk to a stop. He tipped forward, brushing by the queen, smelling strongly of the oils often used to clean the steel of one’s sword. With one turn of a knob, she was escorted into a bedroom bare of any decor.
“This is…” she struggled to find the words, finally settling on the truth since it was only Burke and she’d been honest with him when she was younger, “simple.”
“Anything you’d like I can have brought to you,” he amended as if that might help.
Ambrose leaned into her staff. The vines were still moving, swirling as if they too were trying to take in the room. It wasn’t much to see with the simple wooden framed bed, wardrobe, and small vanity. Off to the side of the room was a slender door that likely led to a private bathroom. Two large windows were blocked off by curtains making the room feel smaller and darker.
