Page 58 of Shadows and Roses

Relyana gave him a small wave while everyone else turned to each other. Castien smiled before following his keeper to the far side of the camp.

They debated for a while—longer than he was comfortable with. Pelios and Kevam, always practical, perhaps believed him. Jerrl would follow his brother. Relyana loved him like a brother. Damon would want to, but his hatred of royalty ran deeper than his sense. Aphaia preferred stabbing first and asking questions later. Four against two, but Damon could turn the others against him.

When Damon waved him back over, their expressions revealed nothing.

"One last question, my friend. Why do you trust her?" Damon asked.

He’d thought about the answer to that question since Vern had asked it, predicting the rebels’ interrogation.

"I believe she genuinely cares. Your spies only see the part she is forced to play, but in truth, she has a soft heart. She contains the nobility in the palace and limits their activities even there. There have been no wars in the last decade becauseshe and her mother prevented them. I trust her because she is determined to change the world for the better."

And because of this odd feeling that there might be something more, this warmth and joy when he thought of her. It was ridiculous. There could never be anything more. He wasn't fit to be an Escort, to stand beside her, to do anything more than perhaps warm her bed. After this meeting, she would have no use for him.

No, it was nothing. Only trust and respect for a Queen he could be proud to serve.

Gods, how he wanted to warm her bed.

These few days were supposed to clear his mind and untangle his emotions, not make them even more difficult. He hoped none of his insanity showed on his face.

"Is that enough?" Damon asked the group. They nodded, a few reluctantly.

"We've agreed," Damon said, "to your Queen's request. We'll give you an idea of what we're after. But another meeting will need to wait. We'll send a message when we're ready."

His internal struggle would need to wait as well. Castien smiled. "If you’re sending the same boy, the Queen would really prefer he stop climbing the walls."

Damon laughed. "He's good at it, isn't he? Best climber I've seen. I'll tell him, but I let him go about his business how he likes. Now, about our movement."

Castien frowned as Damon began to summarize the last decade’s worth of plans and activities. Rebel groups had apparently sprouted all across the nation over the years, slowly merging into one movement. There were still factions that had different priorities. The previous leader had letmost of them do whatever they liked.

Castien's head began to swim with the information. He was an artist, not a scholar. This politicking, he usually left to Damon.

Damon noticed his discomfort. "Too much? We'll make a politician of you someday. But for now, the basics are that we have the support of a large portion of the people—tens of thousands, at least. They’re spreading the message. No more taxes and food taken from those who don't have enough to survive. No more people taken to the palace and never seen again. Hope, survival, freedom from fear. Can you remember that?"

Castien nodded. "It's no more than what the Queen wants."

Damon shrugged. "We'll see about that. Right! Stay the night with us poor peasants for once. We can catch up on the last moon, and you can tell us what the palace is like."

Castien smiled.

Chapter 15

When Castien returned to the palace, a pair of rose guards led him to the Queen’s Wing. They felt like they were guarding him this time, instead of guarding against him. He hoped it stayed that way.

The Queen and her Escorts received him in a large study, sitting around a large table on one side of the room. Cabinets and shelves lined the walls, except for a small fireplace in the opposite wall.

Castien bowed, erring on the side of caution. Anais nodded when he finished his report.

"Well done. Thank you, Castien." She stared across the table into the empty fireplace. It was unlike her to be distracted. In fact, the general mood of the room felt muted.

He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

She grimaced. "Darius, prepare him for next week’s festivities."

"Festivities?" Castien couldn’t think of any holidays. Coronation day, perhaps?

Her lips thinned. "Vern, please accompany me." They left the room.

Expressions around the table ranged from sad to resigned as most of the others also departed.

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