Page 44 of Shadows and Roses (The Dark Queens #1)
Castien. A moon later.
A shadow peeled off the wall and trailed behind him.
"I’m going to the baths, Thakris. You don’t need to follow me. Unless you’re interested?" Castien flashed his guard a sensuous smile. Now that they knew he was to be Consort, Thakris and Jerome took their guard duties even more seriously.
But he’d just exited the military wing’s training circles—full and crowded, as always—and the main bathing chambers weren’t far. He preferred those to the smaller, colder pools at the back of the training room.
Thakris continued walking with him. "You’re much too arrogant to be interesting, Castien." But she seemed distracted, glancing down the opposite way towards the kitchens.
"You just can’t handle me. Go on, go make sure your little chef is alright."
The assassin threw him a dark glare. "To the baths, Castien. Anywhere else and I’ll have your balls."
"Oh, so you are interested!"
With an irritated snort and a laugh, Thakris hurried towards the kitchens.
Strolling through the empty outer halls on the bright, warm day, Castien whistled quietly to himself. A few stray leaves crunched beneath his feet as he stepped lightly. Anais had taught him a new dance today—a twist on an old, fast-paced, whirling jaunt. She collapsed in laughter after he stepped on himself and tripped over her leg. Relishing the sound, he bowed with far too much flourish before insisting they continue the dance; her joy was too rare lately.
Splitting her time between two identities within one court was straining even her skills. A stray smile at the wrong noble sharpened growing suspicions. Snapping at a fumbling rebel wore down their trust. Before, she only needed to act as the Queen, burying her heart too deep to be found. He worried how much longer she needed to put on this act.
Pulling his thoughts out of his recurring cycle of concerns, he turned a corner and nearly collided with a figure in brown robes. Odd clothing, but he never understood the court’s fashion choices, and now the occasional rebel out of uniform only confused him more.
The figure didn’t react. Castien stepped back.
"Excuse me," he murmured as he moved around the robed person.
A whip snapped around his leather-cuffed wrist. No one dared leash him anymore. The sight shocked him into momentary silence, then, snarling, he yanked his arm, but the grip only tightened.
"What are you doing? I belong to the Queen," he growled.
A sinuous, soft voice from under the hood, "Castien FitzUmbra. Shadowed, blind knife. Listen to my voice. Obey. Obey. Obey." The person’s other hand opened, flashing a nine-pointed star on the dainty palm.
Castien froze, his body no longer under his control. No . Faint screams, rattling chains, and echoing laughter crawled up from the depths and enveloped his thoughts. No, no, no! His mind flailed, screamed, and shut down.
He blinked.
"I obey," he said.
The whip loosened and disappeared under dark robes, the same hand re-emerging with a small vial. "It’s time. When the task is complete, go to the stables. If you are discovered, kill yourself. You will serve."
"I serve." Castien's stiff fingers wrapped around the vial and slipped it into his pocket.
He blinked, the sunlight suddenly too bright. What was he doing? Oh, yes, a bath. That should help with this splitting headache he was developing. He turned and walked away from the robed figure, absently fingering the vial in his pocket.
***
What’s next for Castien and Anais?
The Dark Queens: Book 2 coming mid-2025