Page 55 of An Archer's Redemption

I tried to ignore the idle chatter.

I watched my father spin many plates as King, but I never truly appreciated the ever-present burden that rested on his shoulders.

Being a sovereign wasn’t like a commoner’s vocation where the workday ended and family time began. I wasalwaysQueen,alwayson stage,alwayson call. Even when I managed amoment of blessed quiet, a maid or messenger often sought me out to deliver news or request my attention.

It was overwhelming—and I loved every minute of it.

I delayed my coronation twice, insisting my Council focus on the needs of families who lost fathers or sons, and those of returning soldiers who witnessed calamity that would change them forever. I argued that my people were more important than a ceremony to assuage my ego.

By the sixth week, sentiment among the Council had turned against further delay. My advisors argued the need to cement my rule, and, more importantly, the need to give my people something to celebrate.

I was settling into the rhythm of the Palace well, but the art of understanding my people and their needs was often bewildering.

Gazing into the eyes of a widow and her daughter, I could wrap them in my arms and provide for their needs, but it was impossible to lookmy peoplein their collective eyes and understand their needs, much less provide for them. There was no magic salve to soothe public fears or the irrational wave of emotions that wafted through crowds unseen and barely contained. Those unwieldy phantoms mystified me, though I knew I would need to master them if I was to rule well.

There is so much to learn. Sometimes, I feel so small and lost. How did Father do it for so many years?

I stared up at the golden blooms of starflowers in the garden. Their petals spanned twice the length of my palm and shimmered in the sunlight. Against the emerald of their thick, leafy vines and the white of freshly fallen snow, the tear-shaped golden fronds were ever more brilliant.

The subtle sound of footfalls turned my head.

Keelan, sporting his sharply cut Guard uniform for the first time since our return, strode toward me.

“Want to run away before they can put that golden shackle on your head?” he teased.

“Golden shackle? You make it sound like a criminal sentence. Besides, shackles go on your wrists. The crown is a holy relic they will place gently on my head.”

He smiled and nodded. “Criminal sentence? That’s probably a better description, although I might amend it to fit with the legal code and call it alife sentence.”

I stood and shook my head. “Thanks for giving me confidence before I go to the executioner’s block.”

“Woah . . . I wasimprisoningyou. Nobody said anything aboutexecution—yet.”

I slapped his meaty chest with my palm, then laughed. “You are impossible. I think putting you back in that Guard uniform addled your brain.”

I let my eyes follow the rows of golden buttons as they curved about his chest then tapered toward his nonexistent waist.

He stepped back a half step and avoided my gaze.

“What?” I looked down and self-consciously adjusted my pearls.

“Jess, you look like a queen . . . I mean . . . regal . . .” he breathed more than spoke, then met my eyes. “I mean, youarea queen . . . and you’ve always been beautiful, but now . . . um . . .”

I blushed but lifted my chin and smirked. “Your way with words is . . .um. . . impressive.”

“Just let me get this out, all right?” His gaze fell, then rose to meet my eyes. “You are so much more than beautiful, so much more than just a queen. I mean . . . notjusta queen . . . you are a queen, you know. Spirits!” He huffed, and his shoulders slumped like a teen boy struggling to kiss his first girl. “Youseepeople, really see them, and not just who they are but who they can become. You see their goodness and their possibility. And when you set your mind to a problem, nothing will stand in yourway until you’ve solved it. I’ve never met anyone so strong and sharp and determined. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . I admire the woman standing before me and respect the Queen she is becoming.”

I had a sharp retort waiting on the edge of my tongue, but his words made my breath catch. A wave of heat flooded through me, and I found myself struggling to focus.

So, I did the only thing I could think of in the moment; I winked and began walking up the path toward the Palace. “Come along, good sir. The golden shackle awaits.”

We marched from the hallway that spanned the royal family’s private residences into the public passages of the Palace. Green-and-gold-liveried servants raced about. No matter their task, each attendant we passed stepped aside and bowed or curtsied. Every twenty paces, a pike-wielding soldier stood rigidly against the wall. The soldiers smacked the butts of their spears against the marble floor in salute to their monarch as we passed.

I chuckled as we passed the first pair of guards and Keelan jumped at their salute. “Is the big, bad Guardsman scared of a little noise?”

“I didn’t expect . . . whatever that was. Um, Your Majesty.”

I spit out a laugh as hefinallyremembered to address me properly in front of the servants and guards. None dared look directly at us, but I thought I caught one maid’s brow raise along with an amused corner of her mouth.

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