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“I’m a qualified physician on Earth, and I have to pass exams in a year,” she said, but they were not listening.
“He contacted the most exclusive tailor in Farhaven in the middle of the night to make you that red cloak,” a guard said, pointing to the cloak she wore.
“Plus, he makes us lock down the garden every evening for your privacy,” another added. They nodded in agreement.
“It’s winter. No one walks in the garden at night in the cold,” she said. As the words left her lips, she realized that she had been naive. Installing her in the family wing. Forcing the academy to give her a place. The nightly walks in a magically secluded garden in an otherwise bustling palace. The red coat.
The evidence, as innocent as she could explain it all, added up to one conclusion.
“I’m his mistress? That’s what people are saying?”
The guards all nodded.
“We’re pleased for him,” the tall one said. “The king is happier than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Yes. His Majesty deserves to enjoy himself.”
“He never smiled before.”
How flattering. She made the king smile with her magic cooch.
“Does anyone else know?” she asked.
The guards shuffled their feet as if unsure how they should answer.
“I’m not embarrassed or upset,” she said, which was a lie because she was a solid mix of both. “Baris—His Majesty values his privacy. I’d hate for people to gossip about…I don’t like gossip.”
“Just the guards. We know to keep our eyes open and our mouths shut,” the tall one said.
“Well, thank you. This has been…thanks.” A lot. Informative. Eye-opening. They weren’t having sex—although she had no regrets about the time they did. They were friends. Or attempting to be friends. If this was the kind of scrutiny Baris was under every day, had been for his entire life, she imagined it was a lonely existence. That kind of pressure would send most anyone running. She certainly felt the uncomfortable itch of having her every move watched.
Being the king’s friend came with benefits but also complications, it seemed.
“Why is everyone here? In the palace, I mean. Traveling to another planet takes no time at all, and you can speak instantly across light-years, so…” Lenore sucked in a breath, the cold air rattling in her chest, “why is everyone at the palace like you need to hold them hostage to centralize power?”
“A less benevolent sovereign might take offense,” Baris replied, good-natured humor in his voice.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. Communication and travel were not always so easy during the time of conflict, and there have been extended periods of conflict recently.”
“But they don’t have to be here now.”
“There are benefits to being at court. One must be seen to be influential.”
Lenore made a thoughtful noise. Politics, particularly intricate politics, had never held much interest to her, but now, in the thick of it, she couldn’t avoid it. “What about the family wing? Why is that empty if one must be seen to be influential? Isn’t the royal family just packed to the brim with cousins?”
“Vekele and Sarah have rooms. As do you.”
“Yeah, but I’m not family.”
“Extended members of the royal family remain safely fortified within their own compounds,” Baris said, neatly sidestepping the comment about Lenore not being family. “The Shadowmarks have a nasty habit of slaughtering one another.” He spoke with such a casual air about his family’s murderous habits that Lenore laughed at the absurdity.
Apparently, he was serious. He gave her a stern look and said, “It is for everyone’s safety.”
“Sure, sure. But why keep all those rooms ready? That seems a waste.”
His peripheral eyes watched her as they walked through the gardens. “Have you explored any of the rooms?”
