Page 125 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection

Chapter 124

“What’s that bitch doing here?” Ged asked as we walked into the mess hall, all of us ensuring a ‘safe’ distance was placed between me and the other men.

“Don’t call a woman a bitch,” Soren said, then he realised who Ged was talking about. “Well…”

Beatrice wove between the tables, a hefty basket at her hip. If I didn’t know better, I’d think her a washerwoman on the way to the clothesline or a serving maid. But while some of the men flirted outrageously with her just like they did the other maids, there was no mistaking Beatrice for what she was. Her hair was expertly done, the masses of beautiful red curls pulled back in an elaborate set of plaits, her green gown covered with intricate embroidery that would have sent a seamstress blind.

Is that word what humans call pretender queens? Glimmer asked, sniffing in Beatrice’s direction. Then bitch she is.

“Apparently it's fashionable for highborn lasses to pretend to be lowborn ones.” Nancy had come to stand beside me, arms crossed as she watched the proceedings with a baleful eye. “Says she made pastries especially for all of the ‘brave riders.’” She made a rude noise at that. “When I know for certain she had her women up at the crack of dawn baking each one of them pastries for her to saunter around like she’s a maid. I, for one, am looking forward to the moment when one of those lads gets handsy with her.”

And as we watched, one did, reaching over to pat Beatrice on her rounded bottom. She spun around, her finely honed instincts kicking in and her eyes flashing like emerald green ice. She mastered herself quickly, batting the man’s hand away with a coquettish smile. His fellows all started laughing uproariously, shouting insults and encouragement at the man.

“Sit down, quick,” Nancy instructed. “I’ll bring you some good food and something for Her Majesty here.”

This woman is very astute , Glimmer told me from where she was perched in Brom’s arms. I like her. Ask her for some of that bacon we had at Brom’s parents’ house.

I sniggered as we did as we were told, bacon, eggs, toast and coffee appearing as if by magic.

“They don’t pay you enough, Nance,” Ged said, grabbing his utensils and unwrapping them with haste.

“No, they don’t?—”

She had more to say but Beatrice appeared beside the table, virtually shoving Nancy to one side. The maid's eyes went wide as the woman smiled down at each one of my men, forcing me to smother a growl, but Glimmer didn’t bother. She lifted her head from the bowl she was eating from and fixed Beatrice with a steely eye.

“You don’t want such heavy, stodgy fare,” Beatrice informed us with a sickly smile. “Try these. The pastries are lighter than air.”

She moved around the table expertly, setting a pastry on each side plate and pushing it in front of each man, in doing so, pushing aside the hearty fare that Nancy had provided, much to the other woman’s disgust.

They did look amazing. I knew skilled baking when I saw it, because Cook was a master of it. Whoever had made them heaped the centre of the light pastry with different kinds of stewed fruit, then created an intricate lattice work of pastry, complete with tiny little flowers, across each one.

“Would you like one?” she asked me once each man was served. Her eyes slid over me with insulting slowness, her smile taking on a cruel twist. “I know we ladies need to watch our figure but…” That smile widened. “You need something to soften yours, don’t you?” She held out a pastry to me like people used to hand over money for my pigs, with little interest or respect. Glimmer took a step forward, letting out a rumbly sound of warning. Brom went to say something but I slapped a hand down on his thigh, squeezing it under the table.

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” I said, taking it from her with a tight smile.

I was dismissed from her notice then, as she turned in a swirl of her skirts to move onto the next table.

“Well, someone must’ve put a lot of work into these,” I said.

That one is trying to usurp you , Glimmer snapped, watching Beatrice’s every move. She doesn’t like the favour you have earned with the other riders and wants it for herself. She glanced at me and stared quizzically. You didn’t ply them with food to achieve that.

“Trying to buy the favour of the corps,” Soren observed in a low rumble. “It won’t bloody work.” He nodded to me. “While many of them would take her for a tumble if she was amenable, it takes more than that to win the respect of fighting men.”

“Well, I’m not eating mine,” Flynn said, offering it to Glimmer, who just gagged theatrically at it.

“Nor I,” Ged said and looked up at Nancy. “Your food is the good stuff.”

“I feel bad for the women who obviously worked bloody hard to make them, though,” I said. “I’m sure it was someone’s family recipe, just not Beatrice’s. And it does smell lovely.”

But when I went to take a bite, Ged’s eyes widened and his hand snapped out, grabbing my wrist and yanking it down to slam it against the table.

“Ged, what the—?” Brom snapped, but Ged cut him off.

“The ring, Pippin!”

Glimmer’s head whipped around as I looked down at my wedding band, saw it was still on my finger and was about to shout back at him when he pointed to the other one I was wearing.

Marcus Lighthands was something, alright, but no one could accuse him of being stupid. When he’d tossed me the jade ring, I’d taken it and put it on my thumb. It was still a little loose, but it stayed there well enough. When I looked down at it, the dark murky green of the ring had changed to a bright red.

Beatrice had tried to kill me.

Time to become the queen you are, Pippin , Glimmer snarled inside my head, her fangs bared, her tail lashing, tipping cups of coffee over and sending cutlery flying. I heard people talking in hushed voices, other tables getting wind of what had happened, the muttering growing louder, but it was all background noise to the sound of my dragon rushing forward, hissing violently at Beatrice’s back.

A queen doesn’t tolerate another queen in her territory, she’d told me over and over and I heard those words as I got to my feet, hands going to the hilts of my daggers as I strode across the floor. All of the finely honed social instincts that I had learned at my mother’s knee screeched at me as I grabbed the countess’ wrist and jerked her around to face me.

That mask of sweetness cracked then, her brows jerking down, her eyes flashing with disdain, but I didn’t care.

“You tried to poison me?”

“What? Are you mad?”

Men perked up all around us, food left ignored for far more satisfying entertainment. They watched us with eyes that glittered, but that changed when I held up my hand.

“My ring is of nephrite jade and it changed colour when I held your pastry.”

“Nephrite…?”

Her eyes were wide open and guileless in that moment, flicking from me, to her basket, then to the room around her. With good reason because riders everywhere jumped to their feet, their own hands going to their weapons.

“Look at that ring. Red as blood, it is,” one said.

“My grandmother always swore by jade,” said another. “Used a jade spoon to stir through every dish we ate.”

“Poison?” Pastries were spat out, backs of hands going to mouths to wipe them clean. “This bitch fucking poisoned us?”

“No.” All the confidence was gone from her voice now, her eyes darting, the basket dropped to the floor, pastries rolling free as her hands went up to ward us off. “No, I didn’t… It wasn’t…”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Men were getting louder and louder, shouting out accusations, threats, when the general cut through it all, marching over to stare at the two of us like we were naughty girls caught fighting.

And I guess we were.

“What are you doing here, Countess? This is the mess hall, not the hatching grounds. Did you lose your way?”

His tone was clipped, precise and he put his hands behind his back, staring her down to wait for an answer.

“I brought pastries…” she said. “For the men.”

“The men are better fed than most people in the entirety of the city. What reason would you have to do this?”

She tried to smile but it faltered almost immediately.

“I thought it might be nice?—”

“But poisoning a cadet isn’t,” I said and held up my ring, explaining to the man what had happened. “I demand satisfaction.”

This was a phrase uttered by noblemen at parties all over the city, delivered when one lordling felt like another had sullied his honour. It meant a duel would be held, the matter fought out, the victor claiming satisfaction on the matter.

It was also illegal.

“A duel?” The general shot me a dark look. “Between two women?” His eyes jerked down to where my hands rested on my daggers, the stones glowing extra brightly. “I don’t think it will come to that.” But any relief Beatrice might’ve felt was quickly dismissed when he turned back to her. “Though an attack on any of the rider corps is a very serious matter indeed.” He gestured to two of the men closest to Beatrice. “Take Her Excellency into custody.”

“No!” Beatrice shrieked.

“I’ll interrogate her about this matter later.”

“Draven!” She spun around as the prince appeared in the mess hall, trying to run to him, but the riders holding her refused to let her take a step forward. “Draven, tell them to let me go! This is outrageous.” She struggled in their grip, letting out a screech of frustration when it got her nowhere. “I am a countess! Wait until the Duke of Harlston hears of this!”

“And what say does my uncle have over the Royal Riders?” Draven asked her in a silky tone. His focus shifted to the general. “What has she been accused of?”

The general explained, summing up the crime in a few words, laying it bare for everyone to hear now, because the entire hall was quiet. Draven’s eyes flicked to me, to the ring I wore and the tell-tale red colour the stone had turned. The muscle popping in his jaw was the only indication of how he felt about the matter.

“The riders and any matter pertaining to them fall under the auspices of the general, with the king’s blessing,” Draven told her in cool tones. “He will get to the heart of the matter.”

“But your mother…”

Beatrice realised she’d made a mistake as soon as she said the words, and even if she hadn’t worked it out, the looks on the riders’ faces would have shown her. Disgust, anger, even fury coloured many of them, yet others shrank back, looking at their fellows in alarm. They were split between those riders that were loyal to the corps or their own duchies, and those that supported the Duke of Harlston and his sister, the queen. We might deal with the threats from outside Nevermere’s borders adeptly, but those from within?

“That fucking bitch, Raina—” one man started to mutter, the whole hall about to erupt in furious debate.

“You mean Queen Raina, my mother, your queen,” Draven said, and that’s when I saw what a good actor he was. He was the picture of the disgruntled prince right then.

“Of course, Draven I didn’t?—”

“Your Highness,” he corrected sharply, then he looked up, meeting my eyes for a second, as if pleading for my understanding before focusing on the general. “You’ll keep me abreast of the situation?”

“Of course, Highness,” the man replied, sketching a bow to the prince before turning to Beatrice and her captors. “Have Her Excellency taken to my office and locked within.” She let out a sob of hopelessness then, her green eyes shining. “I’ll speak to her shortly. Brom?”

I turned to find my husband waiting at my shoulder, his face deathly pale, with Glimmer next to him. Her wings were held out from her body, as if to make herself seem bigger, more dangerous, in an instinctive response to a threat.

“Yes, sir.”

“I will see you and your wing to the conference room. I need to discuss your orders for the day. Bring your breakfast if you need to.”

“Of course, sir. Right away.”

We must sit in judgement on this woman, not these men , Glimmer said when I moved to stand beside her, but then she looked up, eyes searching. You defended yourself like a dragon. You wouldn’t have done that before.

I could almost feel the mud sliding down my face, the way my muscles locked down to prevent myself from lashing out.

No, I probably wouldn’t have.

I stared at Beatrice being led away, and as she turned her head, her eyes, filled with venom, met mine. I didn’t believe she’d tried to poison me deliberately, but I didn’t think she was upset by the idea at all.

Which, of course, led me to wonder what exactly was the queen’s plan.