Page 24 of The Shadowed Throne (Midlife Fairy Tale #4)

A nyka insisted that Wyett give her a brief tour of the homestead before they departed. She wanted to remember this place, to mark in her mind the exact location where she had finally screwed up her courage to do what needed to be done.

Some of the smells would be very hard to forget, but these were the people she was fighting for. Not just Beatryce and the nobles who filled the palace corridors but the commoners who worked the earth and toiled each day to make life in the kingdom easier for everyone else.

She owed it to them as much as anyone else to conquer Summerton.

As they turned for the road that would take them back to Castle Hayze, she had more on her mind than just deposing Ro.

None of this would have been possible without Wyett. She felt a debt to him, which wasn’t something that happened often with anyone.

She didn’t know what he was paid, but she resolved to increase it. Enough that it might make a difference to him and his family.

Not just because she’d been touched by their willingness to entertain her but also because she thought it would keep him loyal to her.

His loyalty wasn’t something she questioned, but if he could help his family because his pay went up, he would be more inclined to stay in her service. Something she very much needed.

The day was warm, but she kept her hood pulled low and glanced down whenever they passed other travelers. Galwyn rode in front of her again, tucked low on the saddle. She had no desire to be recognized.

Wyett fell back from leading, slowing his horse until he was parallel to her. “If it meets with your approval, I’d like to go left at the next fork. It will take us slightly longer to return by that route, but it is much less traveled.”

She nodded right away. “That’s fine. I don’t want anyone to see me or to know I was out of the castle. The rumors it might cause.” She rolled her eyes.

“I understand, my lady.” He glanced back at Trog. “We’ll go left at the fork.”

Trog grunted his understanding.

Before Wyett could take the lead again, she said his name to keep him beside her. “Wyett?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“How long has it been since you’ve had an increase in your pay?”

He blinked, obviously surprised by her question. “I haven’t really given it any thought, my lady.”

She cut her eyes at him, not believing that for a moment.

His lip twitched, amused at her response, perhaps. “It has been quite some time.”

“That will be rectified.”

His quiet inhale was not lost on her. “That is most generous, my lady. Thank you.”

She nodded and lifted her chin but said nothing, lest he think her overly sentimental. “How long before we’re back at the castle?”

“Half an hour at most.”

“Let’s pick up the pace a bit.” She wasn’t that eager to return, but the quicker the trip, the less likely she was to encounter someone who might recognize her.

“Right away.” He gave his horse a nudge with his heels and retook the lead.

When they reached the palace stables, Mucklow came out to meet her and take care of her horse personally, which she very much appreciated. “Hope you enjoyed your ride, my lady.”

“I did, thank you.” She dismounted, then lifted Galwyn down and put him on her shoulder.

Wyett came over and took her bag. Trog had dismounted, too, but was scratching his horse’s neck and giving it pats.

Anyka almost smiled.

“To your quarters?” Wyett asked.

“Yes. I want to bathe, then I will meet with my?—”

“Your highness, where have you been?”

At the sound of her uncle’s voice, she turned, frowning. “What is it now?”

He strode toward her, frustration creasing his brow. “Where have you been?”

She did not need to answer that. “I sent you a note that I would be unavailable. What do you need? I want to go to my quarters and bathe.”

He leaned in. “The queen cannot be unavailable.”

She wasn’t doing this. “Wyett, Trog, the royal apartments.” She started walking, forcing Ishmyel to do the same if he wanted to keep speaking with her.

Which he did. “You cannot just disappear. You’re the queen. The kingdom relies on you. Do you not realize?—”

She held up her hand, silencing him, but kept moving all the same. “I can do what I like because I am the queen. Where I go, what I do, and who I see are not your concern. Is there actual business you need to discuss with me, or have you merely forgotten your place?”

He frowned, knowing she was right. At last, he sighed. “There is actual business. The fog seems to have mostly gone. There have been a total of eleven deaths and at least as many severely afflicted, but they are expected to heal.”

“That was so pressing that you had to hunt me down?”

Guards ahead of them opened the palace doors, and she strode through, the cool of the palace a welcome change from the building heat of the day.

“No, that’s not all of it. Nazyr is still off on his gathering trip, and word has it that Queen Sparrow has gone to negotiate a new alliance with the neph.”

Anyka stopped abruptly. “You cannot be serious. The neph?”

“That’s what my sources have heard.”

She stood, pondering if such a thing could be real. “But the neph are … they have nothing to do with anyone outside of themselves.”

He shrugged. “I am sure she will be turned away, but the fact remains that she has reached out to them.”

She narrowed her eyes. “The fact? You know this for a certainty? That she has gone there.”

“To the best of my knowledge, she has. My source has no reason to give me falsehoods.”

Anyka started walking again, her mind working through several thoughts. The neph could be dangerous. They were not a people she would want to be on the wrong side of. “And what if they decide to speak with her?”

Ishmyel shook his head. “I don’t know how likely they are to align with anyone, but if she goes to them with tales of impending war, if she tells them that you made an attempt on her life, that you released the Mourning Fog on your own people?—”

The darkness surged within her. She slapped him, hard, raging that he would speak such words out loud in the palace halls. Anyone might have overheard him. Anger made her tremble. The darkness seethed.

Galwyn fluttered his wings as he resettled himself.

She snarled at her uncle as he clutched his face. “How dare you make such an accusation. My own flesh and blood. That fog was Queen Sparrow’s doing. You know that. Everyone with a brain knows that.”

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and fear lit his eyes. “Yes, of course, I do know that. Forgive me, your highness. I misspoke. I was overwrought with concern when I did not know where you were, and I let it get the best of me.”

She clenched her fist. Her palm ached from hitting him, but she could not ignore the news he’d brought her. She shook out her hand, exhaling as she returned to the business at hand. The darkness subsided, pleased. “About the neph. What do you suggest?”

If he was shocked at her quick change of mood, he didn’t show it. Meekly, he answered, “A letter might be enough. A simple explanation of events, how power-hungry Queen Sparrow is, how willing Malveaux is to ally with the Caer Wyld, if they so desire.”

“Make it so. Use Chyles. Write the letter and get it sent. Make sure I get a copy as well. But do it now . I want it sent today.”

“Yes, your highness.” He bowed and left to see to the letter.

“Wyett. Walk with me.”

He quickly fell into step beside her. “Would you like me to find out more about the neph, my lady?”

“That is exactly what I want.” Why couldn’t everyone around her be as efficient as her valet? The man deserved more than a raise. He deserved a higher station. “Do you know of anyone who could adequately fill your position?”

“I might know of one or two. May I ask why?” He kept pace with her as they went up the steps.

She ignored his question. The darkness filled her with ideas. “I don’t want a woman. It must be a man. Women are too weak. I cannot abide crying.”

“The fae I’m thinking of are both men. Have I done something to displease you?”

They reached her door. He opened it for her, and she went in. He followed after her. Trog took up his usual position.

She set Galwyn on his perch, then unhooked her cape and tossed it over a chair before facing Wyett.

“I want to make you the Queen’s Councilor.

Not only would that justify a greater pay increase, but it would give you some social standing.

I cannot do that, however, unless I have someone to replace you.

Someone who can do your current job with the same proficiency. You understand me?”

He nodded, barely containing his joy. “Completely, my lady. I can have two candidates for you this afternoon.” He cleared his throat softly. “And thank you for your willingness to extend this new position to me. I will do my utmost to fulfill it.”

“I know you will. Now go. I want to bathe, and you have work to do.”

“Yes, my lady.” With a nod, he was off.

After setting Galwyn on his perch, she went into her dressing room and shed her gown.

She selected a robe to wear when she got out of the water and took it with her.

Steam rose from the bathing pool. Towels sat at the ready on the nearby benches.

She dropped the robe on one of them and descended the steps, the heat of the water taking her breath away.

She sat on the steps and unwound her braids, loosening the strands until her hair was free. She ducked beneath the water, reemerging a moment later but only lifting her head above the surface. The heat felt good.

She swam to one side and took up the bar of shampoo.

She lathered it into her hair. Her body would be next.

As good as the water felt, being clean would feel even better.

As much as she’d enjoyed her brief stay on the farm, she could never live that way for any length of time.

She much preferred being clean and surrounded by fine things.

That wasn’t to say she was ungrateful for the work such people did. She was deeply grateful for it. And for her visit there.

It had shown her what she needed to do and given her the resolve to do it.

Anyka smiled. Soon, the Summerton throne would be hers.