Page 17 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

The thought brought my pain quickly into perspective.

I forced myself to calm, sucking in great lungfuls of air, trying to clear my head.

I was not a child to be crying over a punishment.

I had no right to fall apart like this over a few bruises when Tatana had come back from every encounter with Markus so, so much more broken.

"I'm alright," I said, though my voice cracked a little.

"I will fucking kill him," Tatana said, as she leaned back and studied my throat.

"I'm alright," I said again, smiling wanly at the anger in her words. It was not at all like Tatana to curse.

"Did he hurt you anywhere else?" she asked.

I shook my head. Most of Markus' physical punishments were in places that would not show, so it was not surprising that she might think he had given me other bruises.

"What happened?"

"Not much," I lied. "He lost his temper when I would not allow him to return Etreyiu to the Artaxians."

She narrowed her eyes. "The nerve of him—"

"It's over now, and everything is alright. Just stay out of his way for a while...and tell no one," I stressed. "Especially not Arkadian."

"Arkadian left for his estate. He stopped by to tell you. He said a smuggler's ship went aground off the point, and he had to go and deal with it."

My heart sank. Despite the fact that I could not go to him for recourse, Arkadian represented some measure of safety. His absence from Albiyn made me feel terribly vulnerable.

Tatana's expression changed as she released me and stepped back. She busied her hands with smoothing her skirt. "He said to tell you that her name is Gwen and he will tell you about her when he returns."

"Oh," I said, understanding her sudden discomfort. I did not draw attention to her obvious pain at the mention of Arkadian's special someone, though. What she felt for my cousin was not something she would admit to anyone, even me.

Tatana and I did not leave my chambers that day.

I asked the servant who brought our breakfast to give my apologies to the regent.

I was indisposed and would miss the day's parade of suitors past my table—and the forced walks through the gardens to listen to whichever lord or courtier had an interesting story about climbing the Unnamed Mountains or visiting Morgus Grund for the wedding of one of the Dwarf King's sisters.

They brought us lunch and dinner as well, but neither of us ate very much. There was a pall over the room after Markus' outburst. It stole my appetite, and I was certain it had robbed Tatana of hers as well.

I wondered briefly if it might not be Arkadian's message about his Gwen, instead of the red and purple marks on my throat, that caused Tatana's face to look so dejected.

After I had pushed around the food on my dinner plate for what felt like a reasonable amount of time, I went to the sideboard along the wall and poured Tatana a glass of wine.

I started to pour another for myself but took the entire bottle instead. I went out onto the terrace, leaving her behind me, seated in an overstuffed white armchair, the forgotten glass of wine dangling from her fingers. She had a book open on her lap that I knew she wasn’t reading.

I climbed onto the roof, almost falling as the hem of my skirt caught under the toe of my slipper. I recovered and pulled myself up before going to lean back against the gently sloping tiles. I drank straight from the bottle as I looked up at the sky.

The stars were beautiful, as they always were from that vantage point. I traced the familiar constellations with the point of my finger holding one eye closed. I only realized I was singing when I tipped up the bottle and the sound of my voice echoed down the empty neck.

I cast it aside, listening to it roll over the tiles loudly until it settled into the 'v' between two sections of the roof.

I lay back, looking up at the impossibly beautiful masterpiece of the night sky and continued to sing—first a slow lament about a fairy woman whose human mate was frozen into the ice barrows of the Unnamed Mountains.

Then I moved on to the bawdiest song I knew.

The one about the king who had so many wives that his cock fell off in the end.

I was laughing by the end and completely drunk. But I had a nice, clear voice and the singing—and probably the inordinate amount of wine I'd drunk, made me feel better.

I closed my eyes and thought of him. I had been all along anyways. I couldn't seem to keep the image of him from my mind.

He was a masterpiece—achingly beautiful, but with sharp edges, smooth planes, rough bits, and a sly grin of pure, soul-deep wickedness. The description in my wine-addled brain sounded so poignant to me.

I wanted him. The wine, at least, forced me to admit that much. And I had never known want like that before. I knew there was pleasure at the end of wanting—some attainable sensation that made people go to great lengths to get it. I was not unfamiliar with the concept of pleasure...in the singular.

But I had never expected to feel such an animalistic craving for someone or this physical ache with just the thought of him. It coiled some shadowy, desperate feeling low in my belly and made me start thinking about stupid things like...going out into the city to find him.

I got to my feet and began climbing down from the roof to do just that. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I got so dizzy as I leaned over the edge, I very nearly plummeted face-first down to the balcony.

I shook my head in the warm breeze to clear the spinning, and then carefully climbed down to go and find my bed.

I woke to a pounding headache and a sour stomach. After swearing to never drink another drop of wine, I sent word to Markus that I was once again ill. I could not join him and his gaggle of suitors that day.

Markus surprised me by showing up at my door a short time later. He hovered in the antechamber while his guards crowded outside in the hallway. I could count the number of times the man had walked down the hallway to my suite on one hand.

He took one look at the angry, purple bruises on my throat, and nodded. "Ah, I see why you are indisposed. Very well, perhaps you will be able to join us in another—" he studied the bruise, "—five days?"

"Fine," I said, glaring at him.

"I will leave it to you to decide when you are able to rejoin the court, then. I care very little for this spectacle and would send them all home if it would not start a riot."

I narrowed my eyes, unsure what part of the game his new attitude fit into. He had been the one pushing me towards marriage the most, and now he seemed like he didn’t even care.

It didn't make me feel any better. It only made me suspicious that he had already chosen someone for me.

"I will ensure no one attempts to visit your chambers while you are...recovering from your illness." He turned to leave, but then stopped and spoke without looking at me. "For what it's worth, Princess, I am sorry for...what occurred in my office. I hope that we can...put it behind us."

"Fine," I said again, shortly.

He strode out and closed the door softly behind him.

And then excitement whirred through me. I had five days! Five days away from court and responsibility and those men. I would not even be expected at a council meeting because if the eldermen saw the bruises, it would likely start a conflict that would rage through the castle for days.

In the end, nothing would change. He was the regent. In all ways that mattered, he was as good as a king.

Set breezed into our chambers on the heels of the lunch servants.

"Aelia!" he said, wrapping his thin arms around me. He glanced at the bruises on my neck, but true to form as my self-appointed royal spymaster, he knew when to ask questions and when not to.

Set's face looked very similar to Tatana's, with his wide, expressive brown eyes and a nose that slightly tilted up at the tip. His delicate features would likely sharpen into something dreadfully handsome when he finally grew up.

"Where have you been?" I asked him as he went to the sideboard and started picking through the little tray of sweets there.

"I've been around," he said cryptically. His eyes seemed to light as he remembered something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment just as Tatana stepped in from the hallway.

She had been out to see two of my ladies in waiting, Merry and Franca, to explain to them that they should not come to my chambers until summoned. I had a catching illness—a rash, she would tell them.

The idea of catching anything to mar their pretty faces would keep the girls far away from my rooms.

As Tatana and Set greeted each other, I unfolded the paper. My heart caught in my throat.

Sera, Forgive me. Dinner? Seven o' clock. In front of our place. Io.

"Where did you get this?" I asked Set, interrupting the story he was telling his sister. I looked slightly apologetic as I realized.

"Anetta," he said, looking proud of himself. It was likely Set had already been down the length of Antevemer street twice that day.

Tatana looked at me suspiciously, so I slid the note into my pocket and waited patiently for Set to finish his story, and then another, before I raced to bathe and dress.

I threw a gown and a few toiletries into a small leather satchel for reasons that I was not ready to admit to myself.

Tatana protested me leaving the castle even though I had not shared with her any of what happened with Io or the people who’d chased me. She didn’t need any hint of danger to worry about me. She was fearful enough of the fact that I left the castle at all.

As always, she turned down the invitation to join me, but in the end, she looked resigned as I wrapped a thin, black scarf around my ravaged throat and kissed her cheek. With the sound of my racing heart pounding in my ears, I did something I had only ever done twice before.

I climbed across the roof in broad daylight and left the castle.