Scrivener's Tale (44 page)

Cassien watched her swallow and saw a reddening of the pale skin at her neck, and he found that small glimpse behind the control of the most powerful person in the empire highly attractive. That she might desire his presence suddenly felt more important to him than anything else. There was something alarmingly sad and needy about her that echoed his life, and yet she deliberately cloaked herself with a reserve of resilience and stoicism that she wore as armour. Cassien had done the same living in the forest; his torturous physical training and tolerances were his armour against his desire for family, for love, for affection.

‘Given that I've recently lost my royal champion, I would be glad of your protection in whichever shape or form you can provide it.'

Relief flew through his body. ‘Then I am yours to command, majesty.'

‘We both know that's a lie,' she said, lifting an eyebrow.

He smiled. ‘I will gladly pretend.'

‘I must leave you despite having many more questions. We are not finished, you and I, Cassien,' she said, offering a hand. Cassien moved to bend over it and his lips touched her skin. ‘Thank you for being here,' she said, adopting her more imperious tone. He too had heard the door open. Burrage was back. ‘Ah, Burrage,' she said, looking over Cassien's shoulder. ‘I've just formally appointed Master Cassien as the Queen's Champion.'

Burrage looked astonished. ‘But …'

She held a hand up. ‘No buts. This is what I want and surely it is what you want, too. He has already saved my life once and I trust him. The Brotherhood has sent him to us, Burrage, and according to Master Cassien, we don't have much say in this. So you can blame Emperor Cailech of a century or more ago!' she said brightly.

Cassien knew how difficult this was for the older man to accept. He clearly wanted to orchestrate the queen's every move, for all the right reasons, and to appoint those who were permitted close proximity to her. ‘Chancellor Burrage, I assure you I am not here to interfere. I will be the shadow within the shadows. I expect no privileges, I require no assistance, and I will ask nothing more than the basics of the palace.'

Burrage's mouth opened and closed silently like a fish.

Cassien hurried on. ‘Where was Felyx accommodated, may I ask?'

‘In the barracks, of course,' Burrage answered, finally finding his voice and sounding indignant.

‘I will not be in the barracks. That offers no ready protection. Where are your chambers, your majesty?' he asked, turning to the queen.

‘They're …' she began to point.

‘This is preposterous! Do you mean to accommodate yourself near the queen?' Burrage spluttered, looking between them.

Florentyna said nothing, though Cassien sensed an underlying amusement.

‘As close to her as I can possibly be,' he answered with a straight face. The innuendo was clearly not lost on Florentyna, but it was the apoplexy of Burrage that was silently entertaining them. He knew it was unfair to the man, who had only the queen's best interests in mind. ‘Forgive me, Chancellor Burrage, but in light of yesterday's events her majesty is going to need protection day and night, in every situation.'

‘I have taken measures to ensure just that,' Burrage replied, barely just managing to keep his temper.

‘I am not here to usurp any authority. I will simply be nearby at all times and I will not permit anyone to get closer to our queen than you or I believe is appropriate. We are moving into a time of celebration and festivity, where anyone and everyone may be a potential threat.'

Burrage was yet to appreciate that while Florentyna had survived the recent attack on her life, Cassien was not thinking of that, but of the approach of something far more sinister. ‘Perhaps if you would brief me and give me your instructions, then I can make sure that I remain entirely unobtrusive throughout the festivities, Chancellor.'

Burrage brushed a fleck of lint from his robe and seemed finally appeased. ‘I can do that for you,' he said evenly.

‘Thank you. I will need the return of my weapons and I must be permitted to wear them, even in the presence of the queen.'

Burrage began to shake his head but Florentyna answered. ‘I am comfortable with this.'

‘Your majesty, I must protest —'

‘Burrage, please,' Florentyna said, her tone with a slight edge to it now, ‘these are unusual times and we must bend the rules. I need you to work with Cassien and help me through whatever it is that we face. Now, it is surely time I dressed in my next gown,' she said with a mock sigh. ‘I shall leave all the arrangements for Cassien and his friend, Hamelyn, to you.'

She swept out of her salon leaving both men staring awkwardly at each other.

Florentyna had allowed her maids to dress her while she hid her flustered state of mind behind an expressionless mask. When her head dresser had suggested the dark green gown — ‘because it sets off your eyes so beautifully, majesty' — Florentyna had mumbled that she didn't mind what she was attired in.

The reality of having to face Darcelle with the news of their stepmother was now feeling like the heaviest of burdens.

Florentyna blinked. ‘Pardon?' she said, realising Sharley had spoken to her.

‘Are you all right, majesty?'

‘Yes, I am. Please don't worry. I'm thinking about this evening and how we're going to get through it without showing the scars of Morgravia's troubles.'

Sharley smiled with relief. ‘I stole a glimpse of King Tamas and Princess Darcelle when they arrived, your majesty. He is such a handsome man. I thought he was going to be old and …' The queen looked at her in query. ‘Well, I thought when they said he was into his fourth decade that he'd be —'

‘Hobbling? Withered? Hard of hearing?'

Sharley giggled. ‘Forgive me, majesty. I did think it sounded old, but King Tamas is the talk of the palace. Emmy says she'd let him keep his slippers under her bed any time.'

The queen gave a mock gasp, smiling. ‘Shame on Emmy.' It was true; Tamas was a fine-looking man, far more impressive than she'd imagined. She sighed. Did Darcelle truly grasp that she had everything in life, and still with so much to look forward to?

‘They looked very much in love,' Sharley continued. ‘I feel sure the love and affections of her betrothed will get the princess through this difficult time.'

‘I think you're right,' Florentyna replied, realising Burrage must have briefed her closest staff on the demise of the dowager. ‘Forgive me, did you ask me something before?'

‘I suggested your great-grandmother's emeralds. May I fetch them from the vault?'

She nodded. Burrage would have to oversee that too.

‘Sharley?'

‘Yes, majesty,' her maid said, turning.

‘Send a runner to my sister's rooms. Have her meet me in my solar shortly and have Chancellor Burrage send Master Cassien to the solar as well.'

‘Master Cassien?'

‘He will know,' she said and turned back to the mirror, pretending to admire herself but not seeing anything, other than her sister's histrionics and knowing she needed an ally. Cassien would give her strength.

Chancellor Burrage glanced at him, but Cassien pretended not to notice. He had been surprised to be summoned so soon after his meeting with the queen. Darcelle was yet to arrive, so the three of them stood in the difficult silence of people who shared the knowledge that an unpleasant exchange was about to take place.

‘Are you sure this is the right time, majesty?' Burrage ventured, almost whispering.

‘I told you, I cannot get through this evening with the dowager's death constraining my every breath — as it will when I'm around Darcelle. I managed the formal greeting this afternoon, but if I withhold this news any longer she will interpret it as a betrayal rather than a kindness. And before you find another way to repeat it, Burrage, I know it will ruin her evening and probably the whole time that Tamas is here, but even Darcelle has to learn that life is rarely neat and tidy, and very often cruel. She has Tamas to comfort her and she has a new life beckoning to look forward to. I feel sympathy but I can't keep shielding her from every one of life's knocks.'

Cassien thought she sounded stilted, as though trying to convince herself of the truth of what she was saying, but he believed she was right in not postponing the confrontation. He'd caught his breath when he'd laid eyes on her in even more finery than this afternoon; from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she was all queen tonight. A vision in silk and jewels, though he suspected she laid no store by it. Her hair had been pinned up to reveal her long, elegant neck and angular shoulders, and she wore a dress the colour of the forest. Once again she could not hide her thin frame and yet there was an elegance and quiet beauty to her gauntness. The magnificent necklace of shimmering emeralds seemed to pick out the flames from the fireplace and reflect their glow, complementing her exquisite gown and showing off her dark green eyes to their best effect. Simply, the queen was stunning.

Darcelle didn't knock. She arrived in the room in a swish of silk. Cassien blinked as a froth of buttery ivory — like freshly clotted cream — billowed and was finally still within the queen's private office. The younger sister was undeniably pretty, but in a loud, extravagant manner. Her dark golden hair flowed free and her blue eyes sparkled with indignation that made her pink-stained lips look tight. Her cheeks were glazed to achieve the smooth appearance of porcelain. He'd first seen it in Orkyld on a noblewoman and then again on the dead face of the dowager. Ham had explained that some women used egg white painted on their skin to achieve that appearance. Darcelle had followed in her stepmother's footsteps, but had added to her cheeks a soft smudge of pink over the glaze. He had to admit that her face paint achieved a look of pale perfection heightened with the blush of ‘girlhood', but to his eyes she looked doll-like and fake. Her sister wore none of the paint, but he'd noticed Florentyna had been blessed with a flawless complexion and a natural blush to her cheeks.

The stiff silk of Darcelle's gown all but crackled in sympathetic anger as she ignored the men to address the queen. ‘Florentyna, are you barking mad summoning me now when —'

Darcelle's complaint died in her throat when she noticed the stranger in the corner.

‘Darcelle,' Florentyna said, wearily, ‘this is Cassien. He is my new champion.'

Cassien felt the cool gaze wash over him like a shower of rain. Her expression took on one of slight bemusement as she appraised him.

‘Oh? You don't look like Florentyna's usual choice. She prefers to surround herself with older men,' Darcelle said, not even looking Burrage's way, but Cassien was aware of the chancellor pursing his lips. ‘What, may I ask, has happened to the very dour Felyx?' she said, not quite hiding the sneer.

Florentyna took a patient breath. ‘Felyx is dead, dear one.' Her voice was even he noticed and he felt a spike of pride for her.

Darcelle looked at her sister properly for the first time since arriving. ‘Dead? That's unfortunate. Good gracious, sister. Where did you drag that ensemble from?'

Florentyna blinked in shock.

‘Don't get me wrong. I approve. It's gorgeous. You look … well, you look …'

‘Fit for a queen?' Florentyna offered tightly.

‘You do. Don't sound so surprised.'

‘I'm not the one who is surprised, Darcelle. I would suggest you're the one with the shocked expression. Did you not think me capable?' Florentyna replied, sweetening her tone.

‘I'm not used to seeing you dressed so sumptuously. Normally you'd be …' She didn't finish.

Florentyna looked down, Cassien noticed, but then she raised her gaze. ‘This is a formal occasion,' she countered.

Darcelle's voice took on a slight whine. ‘Yes, but one would think you were the one celebrating her engagement. I could quite convince myself that you are trying to upstage me, sister.' Then Darcelle tittered as though such an idea was ludicrous.

No-one smiled.

Florentyna sighed. ‘Did you absorb what I said? Felyx is dead.'

‘An accident, I suppose? I barely knew him — please don't ask me to don mourning garb on his behalf,' Darcelle replied, returning her gaze to Cassien. ‘If you're looking for my approval of his replacement, you have it. Good evening, Cassien.' She held out her hand and Cassien could see how much Darcelle was annoying her sister with her careless baiting. Nevertheless, he bent over the slim, perfectly manicured hand and barely touched his lips to it.

‘Your highness,' he murmured.

She smiled at him and he saw only flirtatiousness in her expression; her slightly hungry gaze left him colder than he'd felt at her arrival.

‘Darcelle!'

‘Yes, Florentyna,' she said, only just preventing herself from snapping. ‘Hurry up and tell me what I'm doing here. You are aware that I'm about to show off my husband and entertain forty or so guests at his welcome feast.'

‘He's not your husband … yet, and I believe
I
rather than you, am the host this evening,' Florentyna replied. A firm tone had crept into the queen's voice. ‘The guests are mine. You merely have to look pretty, which is not hard for you. I am very aware of what you're facing, which makes it all the more hard for me to tell you what I have to. But I cannot keep this from you.'

Darcelle bristled at her sister's initial admonishment but then her expression clouded. ‘What are you talking about? What do you have to tell me?'

Florentyna cleared her throat. ‘Darcelle,' she began taking a step toward the princess, ‘I'm so sorry, but I have to tell you that Saria is dead.'

At first Darcelle didn't look as though she'd heard the queen properly, frowning at her while she turned the words spoken over in her mind. Then her mouth moved and they barely heard her murmur, although Cassien could lip read. She repeated it. ‘Dead?'