Page 50 of An Archer's Redemption

“Thank you. Your name is Lydia, right?”

She turned, careful to keep her eyes locked onto mine. “Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“I’m Keelan. I don’t know what ridiculous title they’ll make up for people to call me, but please just call me Keelan.” Without thinking, I stretched my hand out as if to shake hers. My towel unfurled, and it was only quick reflexes that prevented an awkward situation from becoming even more so.

Lydia curtsied and scurried out of the room without a glance back. She was so flustered that she forgot to close the door as she left.

“I’ll be back with your shoes!” she shouted from several steps down the hallway, a nervous giggle in her voice. I rolled my eyes and shuffled to close the door, struggling to hold my towel in place lest the entire Palace see all I had to offer. Before I made it halfway across the room, I heard Lydia gasp and giggle even louder.

Then Jess beat me to the open doorway.

Her eyes widened. However, unlike Lydia, her gaze was unflinching, drinking in every inch of bare skin like a woman dying of thirst.

“Should I worry about leaving my staff alone with you, Guardsman?” Her tone was playfully serious.

I fumbled with my darn towel, trying to tie it around my waist once more.

“I, um, just need a minute,” I said, color flooding back to my ears again.

Clearly amused, Jess took a step into the doorway.

The panic on my face must’ve been her greatest reward. With both brows raised, she grinned wolfishly and said, “Had I known Melucians were so well put together, I might have told Lydia to forgo the outfits and simply give you towels to wear.”

She glanced below my waistline at the soaked, sagging towel, winked, then turned.

“Get dressed. Lydia will check back in a few minutes and show you the way to the family dining room.” Jess paused a moment, then smirked. “I will see about getting you some longer towels.”

She laughed as she vanished down the hallway.

I couldn’t help the grin that parted my lips as I leaned against the now-closed door. This visit to the Palace was turning out very differently from anything Atikus and I had planned, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

When I entered the dining room a few moments later, Jess was staring at a painting of what I assumed was a great-grandfather, perhaps several greats back. Her head turned as a page announced my entrance, yet another tradition I’d have to get used to on this visit. The formality of the Palace was almost as imposing as the idea of dining in the Queen’s private chamber. I fidgeted with the stiff golden collar of the charcoal-gray doublet Lydia had provided.

When I looked up, Jess was staring.

“What?” I looked down at my clothes, then back to her. “Gray coat, black trousers. It’s about as neutral between Melucian blue and Kingdom green as we could get. The stiff cut will take a little getting used to. Is it all right?”

“That is the style these days—the more uncomfortable, the more fashionable.” She waved a hand and smiled, her voice turning subdued. “The clothes suit you well. Please, come and sit. We only have a short time before the Council assembles, and I need to prepare you.”

Over lunch, Jess walked me through the key advisors who would be in attendance, the office each held, and what she had tasked each with prior to leaving to meet me in the cave. I appreciated her efficient, direct style, a reminder of mymany briefings in Captain-Commander Albius’s office. That man wouldn’t know how to flower a word if his life depended on it.

“Keelan, you saved my life—twice. I will always be Jess to you in private, but when we stand before my subjects, you must remember to address me as Your Majesty. Anything more familiar will raise suspicion and fuel unwanted rumors, neither of which we can afford right now.” She took a sip of tea, then set the delicate cup on its gold-rimmed saucer. “This is an unscheduled meeting, so there will be no formal agenda. The Council will want to hear your account and will question you on the condition of the Kingdom forces following their retreat. They will also want to know the attitude of Melucia’s new leadership toward the Kingdom and our overtures of peace. To a man, those you will meet were opposed to the invasion, especially my Ministers of Trade and Foreign Affairs, but they are fiercely loyal to the Crown and will be cautious. I doubt they will report anything while you are in the room, so do not be disappointed if you learn nothing new.

“Oh, one more thing, under no circumstance should you reveal the nature of your Gift, the cave, or the mirror-portal. Even if I trusted the Ministers completely, I would hold those secrets between us.”

I leaned back, surprised by her caution with her own Council, many of whom she’d known for years. “I understand the need to protect the cave and the mirror, but my Gift? Anyone who’s read the papers in Melucia knows what my magic can do. Why hide it here?”

“Another lesson my father drilled into me was to be wary of who you trust—and questionthosepeople carefully. I wish no one knew of your Gift. I would keep you at court just to advise me on deception and lies, which are more common in court than frills and lace. That sort of insight would be invaluable to a monarch.”

“You almost sound afraid of your own people,” I said, immediately wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

She didn’t flinch. “I am seventeen, Keelan. If I rule for fifty years, a day will not pass when I do not question someone’s honesty. I know it is part of the job—my father knew it, too—but I hate it, the scheming and wheedling for position and power. Everyone thinks the monarch is the big fish, but sometimes it feels like being a minnow in a pond of hungry sharks ready to devour you and everything you care for.”

Her hand shook as she reached for her tea once more.

I regarded her in silence. When we met, she’d been battered and bruised, frightened, and mourning more loss than anyone should experience in a lifetime. She’d drawn into herself, only opening up when she wanted to lash out at someone. I saw her as a petty, immature teenager whose life was spiraling out of control. I didn’t like that girl very much, but I’d sworn to protect her.

Now, sitting at the Queen’s table, dressed in elegant silks with her head held aloft, she spoke with the dignity and grace of a queen. She was a woman reborn.

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