Page 34 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

The queen took a sip of tea, sighed, and returned the cup to its saucer with a soft clink. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” Her gaze fixed on something behind me. I fought the urge to turn and see what it was.

“I am… curious, Your Highness,” I admitted, stirring cream into my tea. Never one to deny myself simple pleasures, I admired the way it bloomed and swirled, contrasting with the murky water.

“It will come as no surprise to you that my husband is an idiot,” said Queen Tarra, sounding very, very tired. “Whenever I suggest keeping information to yourself, it is for a reason.” She met my eye, and I blanched.

“I’m sorry. I thought?—”

“You did the right thing, technically speaking. It just wasn’t the best thing for you .

There is a difference, and it would serve you well to learn quickly.

” She stirred her tea, silver spoon clicking against the golden rim.

“In any case, we found the perpetrator hiding in a nearby village. The staff were able to identify her as having been in the palace on the day of the festival.”

I took a quick bite of a cookie and tried not to groan as sweetness flooded my tongue.

They’d caught someone? Did that mean that I was absolved of guilt?

Worry churned in my gut. What if they got the wrong person? What I only thought I saw the mole?

“I see no need for further bloodshed,” said Queen Tarra with a wave of her manicured hand. “I’m not convinced you’re capable of spying, and I would advise you not to try. You’re free to return to your duties.”

Gratitude washed through me. All my worries about a possible wrong victim disappeared. “I—Thank you, Your Highness.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so quick to thank me. I’ve one more subject to broach.”

Oh. My smile faded.

“Prince Marius said that you’d assisted him with his… inheritance. A ring.”

Shit . Should I admit to everything? Or hope that she wouldn’t press?

Surely, she hadn’t freed me only to throw me back into the dungeons.

“I… Yes, Your Highness. I’ve some experience as an artificer. He asked me to look at it.”

“Never mention that to anyone again,” said Queen Tarra.

Her shoulders firmed. “People will talk. But you have my permission to continue assisting him. I don’t approve of his interest in you, but he…

has been ill most of his life, and he needs something to keep him occupied.

” A scowl. She put her head in her hands.

“I do hope the Princess can keep him from causing further trouble. ”

“What sort of trouble? If I may ask, Your Highness,” I added. Marius was ill? King Hergarv had said something along those lines, but I couldn’t imagine vibrant, energetic Prince Marius as anything other than healthy.

“He is stubborn,” groused the queen. “Troublesome. When he wants something, he chases it. So much so that we all agreed that he ought to be the one to go fetch his bride.”

My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe she would share this information with me.

Queen Tarra must have noticed my expression, because she spoke her next words coldly. “King Amonrew was not open to negotiation. We were left with little choice.”

“May I ask a question?” I said. Muscles tensed, I waited for her reaction.

Her gaze swept over my face. A moment passed. “I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I took a deep breath. “Was another bride not a possibility?”

Queen Tarra studied me, then returned to her tea. If my question bothered her, she didn’t show it. “No,” she said. “Not when we believed the treaty had been honored, and King Amonrew refused to negotiate. That is an insult, and it leaves only war.”

I took a bite of cookie, hoping to cover my frown.

“We acted according to the terms of the treaty when we sent soldiers across the border to clear the Nemonians from Blythewell,” the queen continued. “Our soldiers were closest, and we acted as allies.”

This was the third time I’d heard such a story. There must be some truth to it.

I nodded. “Thank you for explaining, Your Majesty.”

“Well, we can’t allow this misconception to continue unchecked,” said Queen Tarra. A stray curl fell in front of her face, and she tucked it delicately behind her ear. “Anything else?”

I shook my head .

“Then feel free to leave. The servants anticipate your return, as does Princess Valeria.”

“Thank you, You Highness,” I said again. With a mournful glance at the spread of cakes and sandwiches before me, I rose, and left the room.

In a trance, I made my way back to the servants’ quarters, where I changed into clean clothes. Someone had leaned my sword and scabbard against the wall, in the same place that I always left it. I felt a little more like myself when I belted it to my waist.

Then I sought out Ria. My legs were shaky, and I was certain I stank, but I didn’t know what else to do. Queen Tarra had not given me permission to sleep the day away like I really wanted to, so it only made sense to return to my duties.

Ria was not in her rooms, as I half-expected her to be. A worried Zellia spotted me in the hallway.

“You must be looking for the princess!” she said, voice loaded with false cheer.

I winced and wished she’d lower her voice. My head hurt, and I couldn’t bear to confront the other servants yet. If they heard Zellia’s shouts, they’d surely come to ogle me. “Do you know where she is?”

“I do. She’s out riding with the prince.”

“Oh,” I said. Ria hated anything to do with riding. I suspected she and Prince Marius were having a less than lovely time together.

“Are you alright?” Zellia whispered, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby. But it was just the two of us, and our long, stretching shadows in the marble hallway.

“I’m fine,” I answered. I was well aware of how I must look—hair falling out of its bun, dirt smeared across my face, mud on my boots, dark circles under my eyes. “Just tired.”

“I thought we’d seen the last of you,” she admitted, ducking her chin as she avoided my eye. “What happened? ”

“They suspected that I may have been the culprit,” I said, careful to keep my voice low. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Zellia’s expression grew sympathetic. “Oh, no, they found the culprit last night. Hiding in the ale house. Nemonian, they said. Bought a room and didn’t leave for days.” She shook her head. “Must’ve been her first time. No idea why she stuck around.”

How odd , I thought. Why would she stick around?

Unless she was afraid of being caught on her way outside the city gates.

A very real possibility, given how quickly the information was provided, and passed on.

All exits were blocked, every guest examined for a mole on their ring finger.

Maybe she hadn’t escaped soon enough. Maybe she thought it was better to wait for the danger to pass.

Had the would-be assassin already been killed? Were we down in the dungeons at the same time? How long was I left there after the real culprit was discovered?

“Did she say why she did it?” I asked, hoping against hope that Zellia knew something.

She laughed. Actually laughed, loud and merry. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No,” I said, almost pleading. “Tell me.”

“Somebody doesn’t want the Princess to marry Prince Marius,” said Zellia, with a self-assured nod.

Even I’d already assumed as much. I’d hoped for deeper insight.

“Of course,” I said, trying not let my face fall. “I wonder why.”

“Loyalty to Tocchia, probably,” said Zellia, shrugging. “I’ve heard plenty say the Prince ought to have just found somebody from a kingdom that actually wants to unite with us.”

“Why kill the Princess, though?”

“Frees him up to choose someone else, I’d think.”

I chewed my lip. “Interesting.”

“I know things are different in Olmstead,” said Zellia. “Tell me: were the dungeons cold? I always heard they were cold, but they don’t send us maids down there, so I don’t actually know.”

“Dreadfully cold.” I shuddered, and Zellia clucked sympathetically.

Some of the chill around my heart began to melt as I followed her from room to room, collecting linens, and dusting wardrobes.

For a while, things felt normal again.