Page 45 of Shadows and Roses

Death had never bothered her. She spent her childhood bathed in blood and torture. Her mother had been ruthless, demanding Anais grow up faster than she should have, knowing a princess could too soon become a Queen. Anais' youth had been as bright as it was dark. Joy carefully hidden. A wild strength shown to the court. She was the only child allowed to roam the palace. The nobles learned to respect her, to be wary of her as she learned to manipulate them.

She shouldn’t have killed the boy. Out of fear and desperation, she’d sacrificed one to save the others, she’d told herself. Darius had held her, forced her from the water closet when she refused to stop scrubbing her raw, red hands. Washing the blood that could never be washed away.

There would not be another Jerak. Never again.

Chapter 11

Castien

His first week in the Queen’s Wing involved unlearning everything from the last moon.

Combat training was mandatory for everyone in the Inner Circle. There were different tutors for different skill levels. During his assessment, a group of youths trained in the same room. They stole glances at him, whispered and giggled to each other, overall exasperating their tutor. The children seemed to be having… fun.

Again, he was struck by their innocence. They reminded him of his own childhood—in the streets with his friends, not in his House.

One of the children suddenly darted to the door. "It’s the Queen!"

Castien’s hand tightened on his blade.

All the children turned and ran. Toward her. He waited in the back, watching their bright smiles and little bows, listening to their chorus of a respectful greeting and clamor of childish nonsense.

"Joane said you promised her a puppy. Can I have one, too?"

"Are green roses real? I couldn’t find one in the garden."

"Anais, look! Look! I learned this lunge today!"

He watched her smile at their antics, answering their questions patiently, gently, while also casually dodging the wayward wooden sword. She lifted her eyes and greeted him with the same easy smiledespite his brusque nod in return.

The children, thinking him shy, tugged and herded him until he stood before her.

"My Queen." He bowed stiffly. Correctly, of course. Precisely correctly.

"Hello, Escort," she said in the same warm voice she'd been using with the children.

One of the girls piped up. "Show her that spin with the sword you just learned!"

Anais looked interested. "Oh? Learning quickly, are you?"

Despite his unease, a corner of his lips lifted. "Best I not try to show you; it would be embarrassing to drop it now."

Her eyes twinkled. He stared at that emerald-to-forest spark of amusement, the warmth that was never present in the court. So strange. So beautiful.

"Keep practicing, Castien."

He blinked. "I will, my Queen."

Then a young girl smacked her in the leg with the flat of a wooden blade. He tensed.

"Sorry!" The girl blushed.

"It’s alright, Lady Destra. Here, try it like this…"

The children took over the conversation.

It was impossible to reconcile this motherly, loving woman with the icy, cruel Dark Queen. But none of this seemed to be a facade; she appeared to truly enjoy this interaction. She didn't swat the small hands gently tugging at her dress to get her attention. They knew she was their Queen, but she was also their friend.

Her words might never have convinced him, but he wasn’t certain how the reactions of these children could be anything but genuine.

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