Page 46 of Shadows and Roses

The court was utter madness, and he’d assumed her Inner Circle—her family—must be even worse. They were a sort of madness: the alluring sort.

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Dinners were casual. The dining room in the Queen’s Wing was as utilitarian as everything else, with stone floors and simple but solid wood tables. Perhaps militant was more accurate—the barracks was similarly arranged. Various Escorts and other Inner Circle wandered in and out of the room throughout the evening. The Escorts seemed to alternate meals in the court. Today, he joined a few of them.

"Captain Jerome. Lord Darius. Milady—"

Darius snorted before bursting out in laughter. Madeline covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she gestured for Castien to sit. "Oh, please, please don’t call him Lord anything. We don’t stand on ceremony here, and he hates it."

Recovered from his outburst, Darius grinned. "Besides, you’re one of us. You’ll never hear me call youPrince."

Taking a seat beside Darius, Castien gave a cautious smile. "Fair enough." Then he turned to the captain. "Is the Queen about? I’ve never seen her without you."

"She is bathing."

Curt, as usual.

Darius laughed again. "Oh, he’s learning! He tried to follow her into her bathing chambers once. She pushed him out with her sword at his navel."

Jerome's lips tightened briefly.

Madeline interjected, "Be fair, Darius. There was an assassination attempt just that day prior. Our captain had reason to worry more than usual."

Jerome's unease seemed to grow, his shoulders stiffening. He ate without looking at them.

"I'm sure she appreciates yourvigilance, Captain," Castien offered.

Jerome favored him with an irritated flick of his eyes.

Darius leaned closer and muttered loudly, "Don’t worry. He doesn’t much like me either."

Castien glanced between Darius and Jerome. "Is there… a leader of the Escorts? Besides the Queen."

Darius shook his head. "No. Well, Vern maybe, but he never pulls rank. The Escort thing is mostly for the nobles. We don't care about station here."

Because they were family. It was impossible not to see, and if it was an elaborate game, Castien couldn't fathom the purpose.

Out of curiosity, he asked Darius, "You’re officially a courtesan, correct? Are you and the Queen… lovers?"

Darius shrugged. "You could say that, on occasion. The courtesan thing is never a requirement."

Madeline’s eyes twinkled. "She calls it stress relief."

Darius choked and coughed, then laughed. Jerome gave them a faintly disgusted glance and walked off.

Castien smiled, hiding a twinge of guilt. They were much like his own friends—normal. Normal, happy people who seemed to care for each other. No hint of cruelty behind their playfulness. No threats, no guile. If this was real, perhaps there was hope.

After combat was lessons in court behavior—what he could and could not say or do, how to react and deflect from the activities in the Queen's Wing. Mostly, he should say nothing and react not at all.

Easier said than done.

The Escorts alternated this task, drilling him whenever they had time. Even the Queen joined on occasion, a shard of familiar ice in her voice when she advised him to never stop a whipping.

"They cannot think you weak," she said. "No matter what you said or did before, you are not that person any longer. After a week under my tender care, you are an extension of me. Nothing else."

There did not need to be a discussion of him keeping this all a secret. They both knew he would not see harm come to children. But to trust him to behave correctly, to not break the illusion even unintentionally—it seemed a great leap of faith. He said as much.

She smiled. "The nobles will see what they want to see. What I’ve trained them to see. If you falter, that is only to be expected of a broken toy."

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