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“Not true,” he continues to sob, pulling away from me just far enough so he can wipe his tears.
“It will only be four or five months. I’ll be home before you know it,” I coo softly, helping him dry his chubby cheeks with the sleeve of my white coat.
“People will be mean to me. They always are when you’re not around. Five months will feel like an eternity,” he continues to sob.
Rage starts bubbling inside me, as I tilt his chin gently up to gaze at his crestfallen face.
“Which people? Who has been mean to you?” I question, hiding my fury as not to scare him.
He shrugs, biting his quivering bottom lip, and lowering his eyes away from mine just so he doesn’t have to give me a name.
Knowing that I would need a lot more time to pry the names of whoever is tormenting my brother—time that I currently don’t have—I let him go and stand up straight, while reaching for his hands to hold on to for a little while longer.
“Look at me, Elijah. You are my brother—the queen’sonlybrother. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they will have me to deal with. And everyone knows that forgiveness is not in my nature. Do you understand?” I coldly explain, loud enough for everyone in this court to hear and take the hint that my brother is not to be messed with in my absence or suffer the consequences.
He gives me a shaky nod and then lunges at me again, hugging my waist, his head pressed against my stomach.
“I’m going to miss you,” he sobs inconsolably.
“I am too, sweet boy. So much,” I whisper for his ears only.
I hug him to me one more time before bending down to kiss the top of his sweet little head.
“Enough of that, Elijah. You’ll make the queen late for her travels east,” Salome interrupts hurriedly, pulling her son away from my arms and hugging him to her side to keep him in place.
“I wish I could take him,” I mumble, staring down at my baby brother, needing to take a mental portrait of him to store safely inside my heart.
“He’s too young to be traveling the world, Your Highness. Maybe one day you can take him on an adventure, but not today,” Salome retorts, her own eyes starting to water, yet having the fortitude to keep her tone even.
It’s the formal way with how she addresses me that reminds me that our teary farewell is being witnessed by most of the high lords in the courtyard. With that reminder, I square my shoulders and hold my head up high, conforming to the arctic behavior that is expected of me.
“Yes, one day. Take care of yourself as well as my brother, Salome.”
On cue, she curtsies in front of me, and I hate how I can’t hug her goodbye like I want to. It’s one thing for me to be affectionate with my brother, it’s a whole other matter showing that same affection to a woman who is hired to tend to the castle’s gardens. Doing that would make me look weak, and most of my court already believes that I am just based on my gender. No need to give them more ammo to use against me.
Still, it pains me that I have to hide my feelings just for their merit. A king can bed his entire staff, and no one will think less of him, but if a queen even dares to befriend a servant, she’s viewed as overly emotional and soft. The double standard is infuriating.
Not wanting for us to part in such a cold way, I hold out my hand for Salome to kiss. When she does, I discreetly squeeze her hand in mine, my own non-verbal way of telling her how much I will miss her company.
My chest tightens when I feel a tear escape Salome and land on my knuckles, but thankfully, when she stands back up, her schooled expression is as serene as ever. She then takes two steps back with Elijah, letting the other lords take center stage, as is their right.
“Is there no way I can change your mind?” my uncle Adelid asks, still not on board with my plan. “This all seems… dangerous to me.”
“Don’t be such a worrywart, Adelid. I picked Her Majesty’s bodyguards personally. They are my best men and will ensure that our queen returns to us safe and sound,” Monad interjects, patting my uncle’s back, looking proud that he’s able to ensure my safety.
“Well, they better, or it will be your head, as well as theirs,” Uncle Adelid asserts menacingly, but Monad just shrugs his threat away with a chuckle.
“Safe travels, Your Highness. May the gods look after you,” Monad says, all smiles.
“Yes, safe travels, niece. I will count the days for your safe return,” my uncle adds, less cheerful.
It’s only when both men pay their respects to me by curtseying and bowing their heads that I notice not everyone in my court came out to bid me farewell this morning. Otto’s absence in the large crowd immediately raises concern.
“Still no word from King Atlas?” I ask, knowing the rebellious young king must be the reason why my treasurer is locked away in his chambers, crunching numbers, praying that somehow, he can magically come up with enough funds to pay our debts as well as restore our previous contracts.
I bite into my inner cheek when Adelid begins to shake his head in response.
“No word has arrived from the west yet, I’m afraid.”
