Page 52 of Of Brides Of Queens

“But if he does ask?” Deliver inquired with a grimace.

“Why, you would say that while he is your king, I am your queen, and my will demands more of you. You might apologize if you like. Guilt is a beast of its own, I have learned. Shame can make one leapy and fidgety.”

“It is, and it can,” Sign said seriously. “Is there any particular way you would like us to capture the princess?”

“I leave it to you, my pawns. Do not harm her, as I would prefer her in good spirits.”

Seal fidgeted. “What if she chooses not to come, my queen?”

“Surely three princely pawns can handle that?”

The brother pawns exchanged uncertain looks.

“Wemightbe able to,” Sign answered. “If your will allows.”

I had not considered that. I had assumed that if my will could convince a pawn against his king’s purpose, then it could grant a pawn power against a princess—that had been a foolish assumption indeed. “We shall find out. And if a princess refuses capture, then perhaps she would not refuse a courteous invitation.”

“An invitation to what, my queen?” the pawns chimed in unison.

The words popped from my lips. “An invitation to bargain.”

Chapter Eleven

Madness in obsession

Claims all of us

In The End.

What a pacing night.

I did not greatly enjoy pacing nights. Anticipation and doubt filled me equally and had done so since my stairway pawns left my queendom to capture Princess Raise.

That was many hours ago, and now the coldest hours pressed on me too often like a mother’s hand checking for fever.

There was no trace of a princess, and I had spent the last three hours wondering over the power of obsession and its ability to turn a queen or king mad. Yet I had perhaps lost romance and relationship with King See due to his obsessed madness, and so I should not allow obsession to overcome me entirely. There were other relationships to nurture.

I read over my letter as the ink dried.

Princess Bring

A thoughtless touch.

A deep regret to have caused fleeing discomfort.

Our friendship swelled within me that evening.

Instincts of connection controlled me,

but ancient thought should have done.

In sorriness and sorrow,

Queen Perantiqua.

I rolled and sealed the letter, then stared at the QP I had pressed into the melted wax.

“Do you send letters to kings?”

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