AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A prickle of unease ran up Elma’s spine. “I’m not trying to be magnanimous. You’re my friend.”
“Of course.” Cora’s smile tensed.
Elma stood then, made uneasy by the distance between them, dancing shadows on Cora’s face. “Cora,” she said, hesitant despite herself, “I thought you might do something for me. If you’re able.”
“Anything, Majesty,” said her maid, an automatic response.
Something about Cora’s eagerness unsettled Elma; she was about to ask her maid to put herself in potential danger, yet she had agreed without question. Without knowing the stakes. “Wonderful,” she said, trying to smile. “All I need is a little information. I suspect two of my advisors, Lords Bertram and Ferdinand, may be… acting against the best interests of the kingdom.” She chose her words carefully, hoping her maid would understand. “If you happen to find yourself in the room with them more often than usual, if you overhear anything strange, or… questionable, I only ask that you take note of it.”
Cora’s gaze was cautious. “You want me to spy.”
“I want you to listen and observe, nothing more.”
“I won’t disappoint my queen,” Cora said, tense but earnest in her loyalty.
Elma’s heart began to fracture. And then it came to her, all at once. She’d been so distracted, so overwhelmed by her duties and the low-hanging cloud of danger. She’d forgotten.
“Oh, Cora,” Elma breathed, “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you. I spoke to Godwin about your father’s title.”
Any remaining tension in Cora’s face melted, her eyes brightening with eagerness. “Youdid,” she said, an exhalation of relief. “I thought… I mean, I thought you weren’t going to…”
“Of course, I was going to,” Elma said, almost harshly. “But I’m afraid I don’t have news you’ll want to hear. My uncle refuses to relinquish the Mannering estate. He will not grant your father his title.”
Cora’s face crumpled into disbelief. “But I already told them. I told my family that you were going to take care of it.”
Hot shame bubbled in Elma’s chest. “Well, you should have waited to—”
“You said you’d do it.”
“Itried.”
“You’re the queen,” said Cora, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “What use is that if you have to ask permission from youruncle?”
Elma lifted her chin; Cora’s words lodged like a glass shard in her chest. “The queen must heed the law, and advice given to her by others,” she said. “Otherwise, she is nothing more than a tyrant.”
A horrible silence hung between them, Cora worrying her lips between agitated teeth. Then the maid set her shoulders, and her gaze grew distant, cold.
“As you say, Your Majesty.” In a sweep of her skirts, Cora fled the room, leaving Elma alone in the firelight.
“What a delightful little drama,” said Rune, peeling away from the far wall where he had been lurking in the shadows. “You should put on a show for the citadel. Call itQueen Elma, The Raging Bi—”
“Where in your contract,” Elma cut in, “does it state that you are to make obnoxious commentary in addition to your physical services?”
Rune chuckled, settling himself into Elma’s chair. “Physical services. Don’t give me arrows if you don’t want them loosed upon you.”
“You’re a boor.”
“I know.” A grin split his handsome features. No longer bruised or swollen, his face bore no evidence of the brutalities inflicted only days before. Elma was free to study the curve of his arched nose, the slight divot below his bottom lip. “You know,” he continued, “your maid has a point.”
Elma scoffed. “Get out of my chair.”
“It’s cold in the shadows, Your Majesty. Please… allow a poor fellow some time by the fire. Or do you need to ask your uncle’s permission first?”
The glee in Rune’s voice made Elma’s blood boil. “You know nothing of it.”
“Don’t I?” The assassin stared into the fire, hair falling so that Elma saw only his nose and chin, his expression veiled from her. “I know what kings and queens are like. I know that those who hold power are loath to risk it. That should one finger slip, they might lose their grip and let it fall from their grasp. It’s easy to cast blame, to playact duty, andshould thisandshould that. But if you won’t risk lifting a finger to help a friend, soon you’ll be all alone in your frosty tower, clutching a heap of power with no one to help you catch it when you inevitably lose your grip.”
Elma hated that she understood him. Even more, she hated that he had not taken her side. The fire was suddenly too hot, the room too small. Anger and regret closed steely fingers around her throat.
