Page 69 of Shadows and Roses

A brief silence, then the council brought up its usual issues. She wasn’t in the mood to assuage them today. Two minutes of bickering was all she suffered before she abruptly stood and left them to their own devices.

Vern

Vern noted the eyes following the Queen’s exit—and the ones too busy arguing to care.

"She loves cock more than her crown," Lord Magdus grumbled quietly after the doors closed.

Sitting beside him, Lady Chrysalm relaxed and yawned. "Give it a rest, Magpie. She broke a general's neck for accidentally killing one of her horses. What was that poor man's name? Oh yes, General Clumsy from No One Remembers because he's dead. Getting into a tiff with Queen Yelenaover a whore is hardly surprising."

The Mistress of Ceremonies never dared speak like this to the Queen. She examined her claws, adding idly, "Oh, and don't let word get back to her about your insults; she's cut off enough tongues of idiot lords, what makes you think yours is safe?"

War meant ceremony and ritual, the opportunity for festivities at every small victory. That one loved any reason to throw a party.

Magdus glowered silently and sank back into his chair. His grumbling was nothing new. The glance he tossed at Lady Satryani went ignored by the duchess. Also old news. If it were Vern’s choice, Magdus would long ago have a knife in his ribs, but the Queen insisted the count was a loose thread. Someday, though…

Shortly after the meeting, Vern found Anais in the armory, strapping on leathers and weapons. She ignored him and continued her precise, efficient preparations. But when she approached the door, he stepped forward.

Grim-faced, he grabbed her arm and tensed.

She stopped, turning her head slowly. Her eyes were cold when her claws settled on the inside of his elbow, digging into muscles and veins.

"Release me, Escort."

He didn't. "Anais—"

"Queen." The word was a frozen, sharp slice through the air. Their respect for her was always returned, and she rarely pulled rank. But sometimes, this icy armor she encased herself in was difficult to remove.

"My Queen. I cannot let you go. Please remove your weapons."

Her claws moved from his arm to his throat. He lifted his chin at the pinprick touch.

"Youcannot? You dare command me?"

Her anger was not with him, but she might release that anger at any obstacle. As always, he trusted that she would not, would never, harm him or any of the Escorts.

It was an Escort's duty to stand in the way of herself. They protected their Queen even from her own choices, if necessary. He looked at her not with fear as the claws dug into his neck, but sorrow and love.

"My life is yours. Take it, if you wish to go," he said, lowering his gaze without relaxing his grip.

She went still. A heartbeat, then two, and her hand trembled. Her claws carefully lifted, her hand falling to the wrist of his arm holding her, fingers wrapping around him. Hair tumbled around her face as her head hung low and she took several deep breaths.

"I can't sit and donothing," she hissed, that tone not cold at all.

He brushed her hair with his free hand. "You are doing all you can. Trishve is sending a few of our fastest scouts. They may yet catch up to him."

She clung to him a little longer, just breathing.

"They took one of you. One ofmine. They've never taken an Escort. Why did the idiot need to walk in the gardens? Why didn't he just stay in the courtyard, in the Queen's Wing, where it's safe?"

Vern put his arm on her shoulder and pulled her close. "He probably thought he was safe. He's still new, and we've all been lax. A guard should have been with him, at least."

She nodded against his chest. "Yes. Implement that immediately. Always travel in pairs or with a guard. Even in the Queen's Wing."

"Yes, Anais."

A sigh and she stepped back. Her eyes scanned his face,flicked to his neck and she winced.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry."

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