AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What of Queen Sienna?” Oliver managed to say. Ambrose was impressed that he’d found the strength to ask the question no one had dared even with the rumors her sisters’ lies had failed to squash.
“She’s dead too.”
Another knife in her heart. Another grave to visit.
All the air was sucked out of the room with the queen’s admission. Oliver struggled to find a way to breathe again. His long slender fingers fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, adjusting his checkered cravat.
“What of you, my queen?”
What was she to do with herself? Yes, that was the question. She wished she had an answer, at least one that she was certain of. She wished she had a plan but she’d never been one to create plans much less stick to them. That was Ophelia and Farah’s game to play. Ambrose wished she was more like them now but resolved herself to understanding she could only be what she was.
The crazy girl who followed the guidance of unidentifiable voices in her head.
So what of her? What would Ambrose do?
She’d run.
Run, that voice inside her hummed with approval.
First Sienna, then Farah, no doubt Ambrose’s castle would be next and she wasn’t going to be around for that.
“I will be leaving for Marlux.”
“Would you like for me to arrange for a carriage?”
Ambrose offered him a soft smile. Though it was clear he was trying his hardest to keep his lips from pulling back into the grimace Ambrose often enjoyed. She’d heard the whispers of her staff many times in the halls.“After a smile someone will burn on the pile.”
No one in this castle would burn that day. The burning Ambrose would be doing was being saved for those who opposed her. Human or Fae. She wasn’t too particular.
“A carriage won’t be necessary. Though I would not be displeased if you were to have our fastest horse brought to the servants’ entrance.”
Oliver bowed as low as he could go, no doubt trying to save himself from what he thought might be a vicious slaughter. The queens couldn’t kill everyone in Pasia… then who would they rule? Who would fight in their armies? That was the reasoning behind her merciful warning to her castle servants.
“It would be my honor,” he said before he ushered himself out of the room.
Queen Ambrose took her time then, carefully packing the rest of her bag. She gathered the barest of garments before selecting brown trousers and a fitted linen top for the day. Her feet slipped into well-worn riding boots and she shrugged into the straps of the holster that fit against her back to hold her staff as she traveled.
She gave her room one last look. This castle, this room, had been the first thing that had really felt like hers. Something separate she didn’t have to share with her sisters, her own little slice of heaven. Part of her wished she could stay here forever. She could board it all up, call forth all of their armies, and turn it into a little fortress. Ophelia would scowl at that. Fortresses were ugly and she cared undoubtedly about looks.
Banding back her wild curls, she let her eyes travel the space and memorize everything she loved about it. All the items she’d picked out for herself by herself. The plants she grew from little seedlings that reminded her of her mother’s green thumb. Even her bed. Gods, she’d miss that bed and all the times she and her lover had bound themselves in those sheets. There would be other beds for the two to share but not at her sister’s castle. It wouldn’t be safe for him there.
With a dip of her chin, she gave the room one final nod before turning away and closing the door firmly. Mentally, she closed the door on all her ambitions for this castle, her current rule, and her budding relationship. None of that could prosper in proximity to Ophelia.
The soles of her boots squeaked against the floor as she pushed herself through the hallways. Ambrose moved swiftly, dragging the canvas bag at her side, her staff firmly secured to her back. While she’d made sure her room was bright and open to allow her plants to survive, the rest of her castle was painfully dark. Brown-stained wood and pine walls with the occasional hanging lantern came and went. Even the servants’ quarters for cooking and living were equally as eerie. Sometimes the castle staff looked more like servants in a haunted home.
Morning sun was crawling up over the tree line, shining down on her with the intensity only a new start could bring. Inhaling the chilled air, Ambrose found her waiting horse. The saddle was a familiar welcome—her impromptu lessons spurred by the voices, likely for a moment such as this.
The galloping horse with the distant eyed woman with fly away curls, caught the attention of the remaining castle staff. Whispers were stirred up quicker than answers could be given as she surged away from her castle. She rode hard through town, leaving it behind as if it was nothing but a piece of discarded trash.
Queen Ambrose only came to a stop when a lone figure stepped out into the path, his face shaded by the surrounding trees.
Ace
Watching Shelby walk out of those doors was harder than leaving Rehan behind at the table. Ace didn’t want to think about what that meant. Nor did she want to put too much weight on why Shelby had taken the news as poorly as he had. Did his outburst hint at something?
She twisted the golden knobs of the windowed door, squinting into the sun, and forced her posture straight. It could all be nothing other than Shelby’s own piss poor attitude. The fact that she was even letting herself hope that maybe he’d started to fall for her in the way she was falling for him was pointless. She was only hurting herself. Still, she couldn’t stand to see him hurt. Especially if it was caused by her.
Rehan’s dining room opened up into a well-manicured garden. She should have known by the perfect state of his home that someone had taken care of it while he was gone. So Rehan hadn’t been as alone as he’d made it out to be.
