Crossing Over - Anna Kendall [70]
Inside the palace, there was a repeat of yesterday’s ceremony, gone terrible and bloody. Ladies, courtiers, advisors massed beside the dais. The queen sat tall on her throne. Lord Solek’s army marched in, chanting, led by a chieftain negligently holding his broken arm. When Solek himself arrived, Eammons translated Solek’s words, delivered as simply as if he had been announcing that water is wet: “We have won.”
But this time he did not kneel, and so Queen Caroline could not tell him to rise. Their eyes, one silver under black water and the other blue as sky, locked so fiercely that I had to look away.
“You have The Queendom’s deepest thanks,” the queen said. “And mine.”
I could take no more. No matter what it cost me, I could not listen to her words dance around her calculations, which must be paid for in other people’s blood. Solek’s army to defeat the Blues, and Queen Isabelle’s army to defeat Solek’s if he did not march her line. To gain Solek’s help, the tiny Princess Stephanie sold into marriage before she turned four. And on the plain, hundreds of Queen Caroline’s own subjects dead or dying.
For the first time ever, I slipped away from the queen without her permission, sidling back along the edge of the dais until I was behind the crowd of courtiers, all eagerly pressing forward to watch the ceremony. I would watch it no longer, would help the queen no longer, would accept no more kindnesses from her, except when I must do these things to survive.
The wall behind the throne was hung with a tapestry of heavy embroidered silk. Noiselessly I slipped behind it, where a doorless arch gave servants access to the throne room. Someone followed me through, to the narrow stone passage beyond the tapestry.
“Lady Cecilia!” I whispered. “You should not be here!”
She caught my arm. “What will happen now, Roger! Please tell me!”
“Nothing that will harm you, my lady,” I said. The light was dim, coming only from an alcove farther on. In the gloom I saw that Cecilia’s face was ashen. Her teeth chattered, from either cold or fear.
“How can you know that? Will the savages take us all? All the women, I mean? Are we to be prizes for them?”
“No, no,” I said. “The queen made Lord Solek promise that his men would leave our women alone.”
“That was the village girls. I mean us, the queen’s ladies—are we to be marriage prizes? Like the princess?”
This had not occurred to me. Before I could answer, Cecilia sobbed, “Oh, Roger, I am so afraid!” She threw herself into my arms.
All thought fled my mind. She was so soft, so small, and she smelled so sweet. My arms were around her, her crying eyes pressed to my chest, and I held her. Just that: held her, and I wanted the moment to never end. Without knowing what I did, I lifted her face and pressed my lips to hers.
A moment of shocked stillness, and she pulled away. “Roger! ”
“My lady, oh, forgive me—” She could have me whipped, have me sent away from court—
But she was smiling. Tearfully, but still my kiss had wakened the coquette enough for her to mock me through tears. “Really, I had no idea I was so irresistible.”
“I love you, my lady. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you.” It was true; never in my life had I meant anything more. I was dizzy with her, intoxicated with her.
Cecilia laughed. But a moment later she leaned close to me and whispered, “Then if a savage comes for me, will you hide me? Will you, Roger? You must know all the palace hiding places.”
Would that I did! Were there hiding places, secret corridors? Of course there were, although I had never thought of this before. But this was a palace of secrets, of things hidden. Perhaps one reason the queen had kept me so close beside her was to keep me from discovering those hidden passageways, hidey-holes, escapes.
“I will serve you always, my lady!”
“How funny! You sounded almost like a courtier when you said that! You with that