Page 56 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

The Queen on the Chessboard

The next day, I awoke to a knock at my door. My eyes opened and immediately squinted against the brightness that filled the room. Rubbing them, I groaned. I must have overslept. My pen had kept me up all night writing for the first time in years and could not stop the ideas coming to mind.

Ramiren was right. I just needed to wait for my visitor.

The knock came again, and I flopped out of bed to answer it.

A page, his green tunic emblazoned with the Wistran royal coat of arms, bowed, and handed me a folded letter. I took it, and he bowed again before promptly departing. After closing the door, I carefully unfolded the message. The lettering was neat and cursive but obviously hastily written.

Lady Nathalia,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am overjoyed that you are to become my new daughter. Please meet me in the Great Hall this morning to discuss preparations for your wedding to my son.

The omens are good, and this time of year is auspicious. We will hold the ceremony in one week’s time.

I will be waiting.

Milanda Loranaskan

Queen of Wistran

Preparations? A week?

Bathing as best I could in the provided basin, I dressed in my green silk gown.

I need to look my best for this. The first time I wore it came to mind, and my stomach lurched.

We don’t have much time left. Thinking back on all the lessons Ramiren and I have had, my only conclusion was that there was still a great deal to learn.

With my creativity restored, ideas of all sorts came brimming to mind, and not just songs and stories. Things I wanted to try. Things I could do to make him gasp, or groan, or even whine again.

I shouldn’t keep her waiting.

Heading downstairs, everyone was sitting at breakfast and chatting quietly. Even Raewyn was present, emphasizing just how much I overslept.

Ramiren spotted me first with his narrowed, assessing eyes looking me up and down. “Good morning, Lady Nathalia. You look lovely this morning. Sleep well?” He moved so I could sit on the bench.

“Yes, thank you, but I can’t stay.” I held up the letter in my hand. “The queen summoned me.”

Raewyn muttered into her teacup, but I ignored it.

“Oh, is everything alright?” Over his shoulder, Ramiren peered at the letter in my hand, like it was a snake about to strike, before meeting my eyes.

With a shrug, I responded, “I think so. She wants to discuss wedding preparations. ”

“Oh, yeah? How long you got before you’re chained to him?” Georgina asked.

I looked down at the letter, as though to read it. “A week, she says.”

Ramiren choked on his food.

M.A.L.C.O.L.M. beeped. “You’re supposed to chew first.”

Ramiren ignored the automaton and turned around on the bench to look at me fully with a raised eyebrow. “ So soon ? Though I am not exactly an expert on royal engagements, they are typically not that short, Nathalia. The preparations alone can last for years.”

“Apparently, they want to take advantage of auspicious omens, or something of that nature.” I sighed, already exhausted. “I need to go. I will see you all later.”

When I stepped onto the streets of the capital, most who passed me ignored my presence. Some inclined their head, given my dress, but most simply averted their eyes to get on with their work.

No one seemed to know I was to become their future queen.

My walk to the castle in the center of the city was pleasant. The summer air was warm. The sun shined and glinted off of the red-tiled roofs. Birds chirped.

After being escorted in by two footmen, I was taken to the Grand Hall when I gave my name. The heavy double doors of the hall were open to let the breeze in, and my breath hitched when I saw inside.

Massive long pews had been set up on either side of a green-carpeted aisle. Banners depicting the royal sigil, a tree with deep, winding roots, were being unfurled and cleaned in preparation for hanging.

All the bustle was centered around an older muste fey woman, handsome and finely dressed.

Her green brocade dress caught the light and a silk veil, held up by a small crown, covered her white hair and fell to her ankles.

She was tall, almost as tall as I. Based on her bearing, it was obvious, even from a distance, she was used to giving orders.

I’d forgotten the kingdom’s color was green, like Camlynn’s, though not as dark a hue. Was there meaning behind that? Silently applauding my choice of dress, I approached and gave a slight smile. “Your Majesty, I am here.” I curtsied low.

She looked over her shoulder at me and huffed after quickly looking me up and down. “Do stand up straight, my dear. You’re with the royal court now. Your posture must be better.”

I froze.

No one has ever complained about my posture.

She directed a staff member to put a set of vases on a side table before speaking as she surveyed the hall, “And we’ll need to get you better clothing. Perhaps that gown was good enough for Camlynn, but we have different standards here. And don’t frown, you’ll wrinkle.”

Instantly, my anxiety peaked. There were few things worse than bad first impressions and having one with my future mother-in-law was a worry I’d had more than once. My face relaxed, and the queen smiled as she looked at me again.

“Better. Now, most of the preparations have already been done, so really there’s nothing for you to do.”

What?

“Nothing? Then, if I may ask, why summon me?”

She turned to me fully. “To meet you properly, of course! My son speaks very highly of you, and I wanted to see my boy’s elu for myself.”

I gave a small smile that didn’t quite touch my eyes. “He does, does he?”

“Yes. He mentioned you were trained as a protector. Is that right?”

“Yes, Your Maje-”

“Well, you can put all that nonsense behind you.” She approached me, arms wide, and took my hands in hers.

“We have plenty of warriors here for protection. All you need to do is make my son happy. Show up, say your vows, put that ring on your finger , and live a blissful life. Perhaps give me a few grandchildren, if you’d be so kind, because I quite miss having babies around, and the Queen of Feawar won’t stop taunting me with her daughter’s boys.

” Her smile brightened. “How does that sound? Not a care in the world!”

My mouth opened but nothing came out.

She patted my arm. “Close your mouth, dear. You look like a fish.”

I immediately shut my mouth with a click of my teeth. An invisible weight began to press down on my shoulders. I felt small. Ridiculous. You can still salvage this. “One week until, you said?”

“Yes, one week. We have a seer snake who told us the sooner the better, and a week is the soonest we can manage. And you are staying at the Black Unicorn Inn, correct?”

“Yes, Your M-”

She lightly slapped my arm. “Well, I insist you spend the next week in the castle. You will need to get used to the comforts this kind of life can provide. I can’t have you being shy with the servants or meekly skulking about.

You will be a Princess of Wistran.” She paused and narrowed her eyes, “No romantic attachments? You’re a virgin, yes? ”

My eyes darted around, embarrassed that someone might’ve overheard, but no one paid us any heed.

“I am a virgin, yes.” I thought of answering her first question, but I had no idea how to quantify my complicated relationship with Ramiren.

Oh, no, Your Majesty. Sure, I contracted with a broodling to teach me how to give and receive sexual pleasure, and I fantasize about him bending me over a table and ramming his-

“Good, never know with you traveling, heroic types.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re slouching again, dear.”

I actually was slouching that time.

My walk back from the castle was more of a trudge, certainly different from the pleasant journey there. My body felt beaten and bruised, as though having just been in a fight. My muscles ached. My stomach was in tight knots.

I wish my mother was here.

I went up the stairs to my room, put the key into the lock, and turned it when there was a soft voice behind me. “You’re back.”

I turned to see Ramiren leaning against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed. My exhaustion reared its ugly head, making me wish for the peace and quiet of my room.

“Yes. I’m back.”

He frowned. “What happened?”

Everything. “Nothing. She’s just… very …”

Ramiren finished for me. “Demanding?”

“Yes, that’s one way of saying it. I am to leave the inn and move into the castle.” There was a flicker of emotion behind his red eyes again for some reason. I’m sure he’s just worried. Stop imagining things. “And I am to take nothing with me.”

Ramiren dropped his arms and straightened. He slowly began to come closer, his footsteps heavy on the wood floor. “What do you mean nothing ?”

I tried to shrug away his concern, but my shoulder muscles twitched in protest. “I am to get rid of all possessions. They will provide everything I need or want.”

Ramiren stared. “That’s quite extreme.”

“She insisted. And if I am to please my new family-”

He never interrupted or chastised me. So, when he did this time, with his voice sounding unusually rough, my back went rod-straight.

“They need to give you grace, Nathalia. This is all incredibly sudden, worryingly so. What of pleasing yourself? Making yourself happy? Is that not something you ever intend to do?”

This unexpected quest. The hard, dirty, uncomfortable traveling.

Mindless caravan routes. The endless searching.

The childhood loss and adulthood reclamation of my creativity.

The battles with hags. This all-consuming pact.

Fighting with and upsetting Raewyn. And, now, fighting with and displeasing Ramiren.

No control. No rudder. And doomed to fail everyone, even myself.

Something broke in me.

My legs turned to jelly and gave out as a great pressure settled on my chest, like a giant boulder rested there.

I collapsed with my back against my door, sliding down and feeling the planks pull and catch the fabric of my gown.

The rough wood was no doubt ruining my favorite silk dress, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Not as though I’ll be able to wear this again anyway.

Ramiren was immediately at my side, taking my hands in his.

I inhaled, or tried to. My lungs forced out air in a wheeze and would not take breath in.

“I ca-… can’t breathe…” I gasped, squeezing his hands. My chest hurt . Darkness crept up at the edge of my vision.

Panic.

“Look at me. Look at me, Nathalia,” he commanded.

My eyes, watery and stinging, met his. There was concern there. And something like fear.

“Good. Now, take a deep br- don’t shake your head at me. Take a deep breath. In and out.”

Tears ran rivers down my cheeks as I tried to force the air out as he’d demanded.

“Now out, angel. In.”

I inhaled, focusing on his face and calming voice. My shaking hands gripped his steady, rougher ones while he gently rubbed my palms with his thumbs.

“Out.”

I breathed out slowly through my mouth, puffing my cheeks. My chest pain lessened. The stone slowly lifted, and my vision began to clear. My eyes closed for a moment, prompting more tears to fall down my cheeks. They were quickly swept away with a brush of his fingers.

With a sniffle, I whispered, “Sorry.”

“You need never apologize for that.” He moved errant strands of hair out of my face then bent my head down to press his lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes again at the embrace, grateful to have something solid to hang on to as I clutched his shirt sleeves in my hands.

“Now, what brought that on?”

“I felt out of control. Like I was on the brink of failure, and I could do nothing.”

He helped me stand, taking almost all of my weight, and opened the door to allow me to enter my room.

He followed me in, closing the door, and sat me on the bed before crouching down silently in front of me. The warmth of his hands soaked through the silk fabric covering my thighs as his fingers slipped into mine.

More tears prickled at the back of my eyes and blinking them away did nothing except make them fall.

I sniffed again and peered down at my lap.

Trying for pragmatic, my voice sounded a little like M.A.L.C.O.L.M.

when I finally spoke, “Raewyn wants my Extended Pouch, but she’s not speaking to me.

Could you give it to her for me, please? ”

Ramiren sighed, rubbing his fingers on mine soothingly, and replied, “She left, angel.”

My head shot up. “What?”

“Her, Georgina, and M.A.L.C.O.L.M. left shortly after you did for the Ivory Grove. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”

With Georgina? But she didn’t even say goodbye.

I straightened, taken aback, and tried to comprehend what he was saying. “She left with Georgina? But they hate each other.”

“It seems they agreed on this. That it was best to go now before…” He trailed off. He closed his mouth, lips thinned in regret and sympathy.

She really wasn’t going to be here.

Biting back a sob and shutting my eyes, I just wished the tears would just go away.

I hate crying.

It made me feel drained. Empty. I craved balance, not too emotional, not too cold.

It was just so very difficult to do. Heartache threatened to overwhelm me again, like a too-full teacup, and I couldn’t stop the overflow.

A whimper escaped when my hands covered my face.

I immediately felt warm arms wrap around me in a tight embrace.

There was no holding it in any longer. I just let go in a surge of wracking sobs as my entire body shook, like taking a long bath in ice water.

The dam burst, and all my fears, frustrations, and bitterness rushed out in a torrential flood of despair.

Wave after wave of grief battered me and would not stop.

She left. She left. She left.

Ramiren did not try to shush me. He did not try to tell me everything would be alright. He simply held me and let me cry.

Please don’t leave me, too.