Page 25 of The Shattered King

Sighing, I studied my pieces, all the while listening to his breathing.

I detected no rasp, no struggle. I moved a piece and looked at his face, searching for paleness or discoloration, but he seemed perfectly fine.

He’d put on weight in the last month and finally filled out his clothing. Well-tailored clothing.

“Is that a new shirt?”

He met my eye. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“No, but when did you get a new shirt?”

He snorted. “I do things when you’re not here.”

“I’m always here.”

“I can make sure you are, if you insist.”

I frowned. I would not give up my evening freedom for anything. “Your turn.”

He smiled at me, triggering that subtle luminescence he carried about him. Studied the board and smiled wider. Moved a red piece diagonally across the board and took out a cluster of my blue.

I blinked. A soft chuckle escaped my lips. “You win.”

“I’ve been working on it.”

“I can see that.”

He sighed in relief. “Now I can never play this game again, to preserve my victory.”

Rolling my eyes, I reset the pieces. “Then you’ll have to read about flora and bees while I dowse.”

He made a face. “I’d rather see Thom—”

Ard opened the door and announced, “Her Majesty the queen,” and Queen Winvrin swept in, one of her guards tailing her and taking a spot near the door, snapping into place like a magnet.

Her gown had no cutout, so she wore her wedding pendant blatantly atop her bodice, the chain swinging wildly.

Her features were a thunderstorm, but one look at the danerin board and lightning flashed.

“What is this?” She addressed me. “Why are you playing games while my son is not yet whole?”

I’d come to hate her using those words to describe him. But before I could answer, Renn spoke. “I insisted. We’d broken our fast, and I wanted to play.”

She practically shuddered at the idea. “You’ve your guards available, and a few courtiers left in the castle besides! You can play while she works.”

“I’d rather have a challenge than a pastime. What is it you’ve come for, Mother?”

Color rose to her cheeks. He had not dismissed her, merely bent the conversation, but it appeared to have offended her, as everything did.

Her pale-green eyes shifted between Renn and me, back and forth three times before they settled on him.

“I will remind you that she is a peasant, and you are the royal son of House Noblewight. There are certain standards to how we occupy ourselves.”

Renn frowned. “It’s just a game, Mother.”

“That is not what I’m referring to.”

My spine stiffened. Embarrassment sped through my veins, making me lightheaded.

But Renn did not miss a beat. “Your assumptions make you look foolish.”

They did, indeed. And yet I had not been so uncomfortable since my first night in the dungeon.

“Take care, Renn,” the queen continued. “I have high plans for you, should your healing continue on an upward trajectory. Do not allow yourself to be distracted. She could be married, for all you know.”

I shot to my feet. “Am I to understand that you’ve been keeping me here, against my will, without even bothering to see if I have a husband and children at home?”

Yet the queen’s scorn flicked away as she redirected her attention to her son. “Renn, are you ill?” She rushed to his side on the sofa and pressed a hand to his forehead. He had, indeed, gone pale.

Cursing under my breath, I came to his other side and reached for his hand to dowse, but he pulled away from me. “I’m fine.” He pushed his mother away, not unkindly. Then, with an edge, “I am fine .”

The queen took a few more seconds to be convinced before rising to her feet, the prim veil of supremacy dropping over her face. Her cool gaze returned to me. “I’ve been researching you, healer. You’ve spent so much time with my family, I thought to check in on you.”

So now you deign to check in? I thought, but swallowed it.

“Since we are on the subject, my inquisitor discovered your name on not one, but two separate wedding certificates.”

My gut clenched. I forced my face to remain impassive.

“Rather scandalous for a woman of your age,” she went on. “And seven children at home!”

“Those children,” I ground out, “are my siblings. I am the oldest of eight. Or did you think I birthed Dan when I was nine? My brother Brien has been conscripted into your army. That leaves six. Does the math quell your judgment of me? As for my virtue”—my throat squeezed—“I swear on Hem’s sword I have never been married, and I will never marry, if that will appease you.

Your inquisitor should do a better job of burrowing into my personal history, Your Majesty.

” I was seething. “Is there anything else you would like to know? Shall I inform you of when I use the toilet and what the contents are as well?”

Her cheeks reddened and she lifted a hand. Stepped forward. “How dare you—”

“Mother!” Renn shot to his feet. “Even you must admit this is inappropriate!”

“She is—”

He slid between her and me. “The only reason I can do this”—he gestured to himself—“is because of her . Why must you antagonize her so? She does not diminish the endless hours you have watched over me, nor the tears you have wept. She is an answer to our prayers.”

His words cooled my anger, replacing it with shock. At Renn standing like a wall between me and the queen. For a moment, I stood outside Prince Adrinn’s door once more. He will come, if I need him.

The queen wilted, her hand lowering, though her flush stayed bright. “You are right, of course. I ... apologize.”

That’s something I never thought I’d hear. She said it more to Renn than to me, but it hung in the air regardless.

Prince Renn, that was.

He walked with his mother into the corridor, where they had a hushed conversation for some time.

I put away the danerin game and glanced at Sten, who made no comment as to what he’d witnessed.

I wondered if he’d talk about it with his bunkmates tonight, or if he was sworn to secrecy and was too noble to risk breaking it.

He didn’t meet my gaze; either he was too well trained in pretending to be invisible, or he, too, was still uneasy about those rumors about my dark and macabre interior.

Fine, then. The last thing I needed was Her Majesty accusing me of sleeping with him, too.

I wondered what her face would look like if I mentioned being propositioned by her husband’s heir last night.

Likely delectable, right before she called me a liar and threw me in the dungeon, maybe with a few lashings this time.

Renn returned, his mask well in place, but his movements whispered of frustration. “Sten,” he said, “we are going to the library. I need a change of scenery.” He noted the danerin board had been stowed away.

“Shall I attend, Your Highness?” I asked.

He scoffed. “If I’m going to sit on my ass and read, I might as well catch two fish with one net, shouldn’t I? Besides, maybe you’ll find something suitable for yourself.” He gestured that we follow and started for the door.

Despite what had just transpired, I found a smile worming its way onto my mouth.

I was finally going to see the library.

That day started Renn’s push for independence.

He expanded his ventures. He participated in sports with other young men and cards with the older.

I was his shadow in all of these things, and careful in my administrations to him.

Now I was the one who did not want to be seen, to further promote his health, but in my time dowsing, I had to be meticulous, ensuring his fragile lumis would hold for each event and activity he sought, ever afraid he might relapse.

We went to the library at least twice a week, where I had my own bouts of anxiety as Renn climbed rolling ladders to peruse titles shelved near the ceiling; he’d always had servants fetching books for him before, and he took full advantage of his ability to do it now himself.

He often read during our sessions to occupy his mind, and I loved the library.

I was not, technically, allowed there, but Renn could not forbid his shadow from entering, and he often slid books into my hands as we left, as though they’d miraculously fallen there, dropped by the god Alm himself.

I smiled to myself with each title, sometimes ones I’d been eyeing, sometimes ones I’d never heard of.

He’d make comments, like “This one is terrible, but the ending is worth it” and “Start from the middle. You won’t miss anything.

” Renn had read most of the books in the keep’s library, and many of them had been stocked for his sake, since reading had been one of the few things he could do.

It was the one passion he shared with his father, or so he claimed.

Sometimes he even read aloud to me, thinking I must be as bored as he was. It did make the work more pleasant.

Renn enjoyed moderate health in the three weeks since the queen’s apology, and I was genuinely happy in the keep, guarding his activities by day, reading his books at night, free to write to my family whenever I wished.

Renn even suggested I put an extra sheet of paper in each missive, so that Lissel need not worry how she’d reply to me.

Those three weeks were my happiest days at the castle, and they ended abruptly when Physician Whitestone took a note from the queen’s books and attempted to defraud me himself.

This time I was summoned, for the news came when Renn was engaged in a game of croquet with a local lord and his son and daughter.

All three of them seemed charmed by him and played rather stupidly, in my opinion, which I occasionally shared with Ard, always earning a noncommittal grunt in response.

The note came via footman directly to Renn, who read it, set down his mallet, and looked at me.