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Cora paled, her throat going dry. She’d been so focused on trying to get back into the tower that she’d forgotten the upcoming arrival of Queen Mareleau. The last thing she wanted to do was greet the prickly woman. “You’ll have to send her my sincere apologies. I’m not feeling well—”
“The council meeting will commence as soon as Lord Ulrich exits his coach. You cannot leave the queen to such a cold welcome.”
Cora bit off all further argument. Queen Mareleau could have the iciest welcome for all she cared, but her brother’s first council meeting wasn’t something she intended to miss.
“Very well,” she said, “I shall greet Her Majesty.”
Relief smoothed the furrows in Master Arther’s brow, but it was short-lived. His eyes swept over her ensemble. “Are you going to greet her in that, Highness?”
Cora glanced down at the green wool riding habit she wore. It was one of her simplest outfits, and the easiest to don without assistance. Master Arther seemed to realize exactly that and took a sharp inhale. “Highness! Oh, dear. You must forgive me for neglecting my duties. I…I never…”
She knew what he was struggling to say. In the aftermath of Lurel’s demise, she hadn’t been appointed a new maid. Servants had come to call on her, but she preferred tending to herself. She wasn’t about to bring any attention to the quiet solitude she’d been granted the last couple of days.
“It’s all right, Master Arther,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m perfectly content to greet the queen in my riding habit.”
“I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it now,” he muttered and led the way toward the front of the castle, past the dining hall, and out to the courtyard. As soon as they exited the front doors, a flurry of activity erupted around them. Several coaches pulled before the stone steps of the entryway, followed by dozens of wagons and countless figures on horseback. Cora’s mental shields faltered beneath the weight of so many new faces, new energies, new emotions. She breathed deeply, strengthening the elements around her, and shifted her stance to root her energy into the stone under her feet.
Only then did she make her way to the bottom of the stairs to take her place next to her brother. He greeted her with a smile while Lord Kevan, who stood on the king’s opposite side, didn’t bother glancing her way at all. She wondered how he’d look at her once she brought up her plan…
“It will be nice for you to have a companion, don’t you think?” Dimetreus asked in that doting tone that echoed how he’d spoken to her as a child. “Queen Mareleau is your same age, I believe.”
Cora internally groaned. She’d almost forgotten the purpose for Mareleau’s visit. While most of the people were here to serve as the remainder of the king’s staff and council, the queen was to act as her companion and help Cora get acquainted with her role as princess. When Lord Kevan had relayed this information to her, she hadn’t dared argue, but that had mostly been due to shock over having learned that Teryn hadn’t married Mareleau. She could try to convince herself the queen might not be as bad as their first impression had suggested, but after everything Lurel had said about her…
Sympathy tugged Cora’s chest at the thought of her lady’s maid. While Cora had only known the girl for a short time, she was Mareleau’s cousin. Despite whatever tense relationship Lurel had suggested they’d had, they’d been family. Mareleau might be grieving.
“Ah, here comes Lord Ulrich,” Dimetreus whispered.
Cora’s eyes fell on the nearest coach from which a stout, middle-aged man exited. He bore some resemblance to Verdian and Kevan but was the shortest of the three and had the most unfortunate bowl cut. With a bored expression, he extended a hand to help the next passenger exit the coach. White silk gloves grasped his leather ones, which reminded Cora that she wasn’t wearing any. She hid her hands in the folds of her skirt, certain Mareleau would likely faint if she saw Cora’s tattooed palms.
The queen in question exited the rest of the way from the coach in a waterfall of pale blue silk patterned with chrysanthemums, followed by a blonde who appeared to be one of her maids. Mareleau’s wide skirts made Cora wonder how she’d even managed to fit inside the coach without smothering her traveling companions. It also negated the chance that the queen was deeply mourning her cousin’s death, for blue certainly wasn’t an appropriate color. Even Cora knew that, and she’d spent the last six years with the Forest People, who did not observe such traditions.
Then again…had the queen heard the news yet?
Ulrich escorted Mareleau up the stone steps to greet them. “King Dimetreus, Princess Aveline, may I present to you Queen Mareleau Alante.” His words lacked sincerity, much like Lord Kevan’s did whenever he spoke of Mareleau. Cora, her brother, and Kevan sank into obeisance.
“Gather the councilmen that have just arrived,” Kevan said to Master Arther before Cora had even risen from her curtsy, “and direct them to the council room. The rest of us will wait there for them.”
Arther rushed down the stairs while Kevan, Ulrich, and Dimetreus turned and marched inside. Cora felt a flicker of betrayal strike her heart at the sight of her brother’s retreating back. Hadn’t he thought of including her in the meeting?
Well, it didn’t matter. She was going to go regardless—
An unwelcome figure blocked her view, mostly due to her ridiculously wide skirts and much taller height. Mareleau looked down at Cora with what was clearly a false smile. “Charming castle.”
“Thank you, Majesty. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“We met under less-than-ideal circumstances at Verlot Palace,” she said, tone placating, “but we can put that behind us, can’t we? I am determined for us to be cordial. Besides, you heard what my uncle said. I’m Mareleau Alante now, Queen of Menah, and Larylis is my husband.”
Cora bristled. She could hear the smug taunting in Mareleau’s voice, as if…as if Cora should envy her. Over Larylis! Her preoccupation with following her brother fled as her mind became consumed with how best to convey just how little she cared about the queen’s husband. Before she could sort out the most cutting retort, Mareleau spoke again.
“Congratulations are in order.”
Cora blinked back at her.
“To me,” Mareleau clarified. “You should have congratulated me on my coronation and my marriage. It would have been the appropriate response. We only have two weeks to school you in the proper behavior of a princess, so we’d best start now. Your curtsy must be improved upon. What you greeted me with was more like a half curtsy, not at all appropriate for meeting a queen. You should have dipped another six inches lower.”
Cora bit back a humorless laugh. This was what Mareleau had meant when she’d said she wasdetermined for them to be cordial? Fire heated her blood, and she let it rise, let it lift her chin and pull her to her full height despite being several inches shorter than the other woman. “That would be true, Majesty, if you weremyqueen. In that case, I’d have been required to lower in the appropriate twelve-inch curtsy, but since you are merely a visiting monarch from a neighboring kingdom, I need only demonstrate respect.”
Heat flushed Mareleau’s cheeks, and she pressed her lips into a tight line. She reached for the nape of her neck and twirled a wisp of hair around her finger before she abruptly folded her hands at her waist.
