Page 46 of Her Dark Reflection

Linus laughed. ‘I haven’t heard Misarnee Keep called the anthill in years. Do the common folk really still call it that?’

‘Itisan anthill. A big, dark mound full of nasty, biting insects. One day, they’ll swarm,’ I said, and the humour slid from his face, leaving traces of disapproval in its wake.

‘I appreciate that you would like to help me, but you should focus on hosting Gwinellyn’s birthday ball and leave me to rule the kingdom. I’ve been wearing this crown for longer than you’ve been alive.’

‘But—’

‘If you really want to help, endearing yourself to the Grand Weaver and Grand Paptich would be an idea.’

Of course, he would want me to act as his lick spittle. Much easier to ask me to do the grovelling for him than for him to need to degrade himself. ‘So, you want me to attend worship?’

‘It would do you some good.’

I didn’t like what he implied by that comment, but I let it slide. ‘Fine. But I’m not going to be a soil smearer.’

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘I’m not asking you to become devout, only to be seen being as supportive. After the riots at the Burnings, it is more important than ever to stand united.’

Leela had told me the city had been volatile since the riot, but no matter how deep she dug, she couldn’t find any suggestion that there was any kind of organisation to the unrest. It seemed everyone had woken up that morning and collectively decided they’d had enough. Linus wouldn’t speak about it, other than to say the common folk had ‘worn their consequences’, but there had been whispers of further violence, of soldiers patrolling the streets, of groups of people rotting in dungeons.

‘And for Dovegni?’ I asked, my tone petulant. ‘Do you want me to become the first female druthi?’

Linus’s silver brows drew together across his forehead, leaving shadowed gullies in their wake. ‘I don’t appreciate your tone. I’m sure a visit to Misarnee Keep would suffice.’

I frowned, wondering if he was teasing me. ‘Only initiated druthi are allowed inside.’

‘And royalty.’ He rose from his seat, rolling his neck and stretching his back. ‘The guild is independent, not inaccessible. I can visit whenever I wish, and now, as my wife, so can you. So go, show that you have an interest in the guild. Perhaps you can find yourself a cause to champion.’

He took me by the shoulders and placed a kiss on my forehead before leaving me to my redecorating.

I mulled over his words, my curiosity and suspicion egging me on. The chance to see inside the anthill, to know the secrets of the guild, perhaps to understand magic better… My thoughts flashed to Draven. It was too tempting a prospect to resist, even if it would put me in the company of the Grand Weaver, and with him the ever-present fear of my glamour being discovered. Even if Dovegni himself had not yet suggested he knew, could there be some other druthi at the keep who would? Was it a risk I was willing to take?

‘How about the settee?’ Leela asked, pulling a face at the stiff, dated piece of furniture by the window.

I stood next to her and considered it, then flicked my fingers. ‘Gone.’

She nodded in approval and scribbled on her notepad. One of my new attendants gasped, and I shot her a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Is there a problem?’

She was a doughy-faced, colourless woman, the daughter of Lord Sherman, a prominent high lord of the council, and she bobbed quickly beneath my attention. ‘That settee… it is a piece designed by the late dowager queen. Our own king’s mother, Your Grace.’

I offered her a threadbare smile, a slight stretching of lips and a flash of teeth, before turning back to Leela and repeating, ‘Gone.’

I wasn’t sure what it was about these ladies-in-waiting that I found so abrasive. Their constant attendance was certainly tiresome, as was their insistence on modesty and propriety. I knew I should try and charm them, so they would in turn carry tales of my virtues to their fathers and husbands, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so.

‘I’ll need my cabinet brought from my old bedchamber,’ I said to Leela as I contemplated the room. ‘It can stand against that wall there.’

She eyed me steadily. ‘You have access to the entire royal collection now, ma’am. I’m sure there are many exquisite cabinets to choose from. There is one, for instance, in the Queen Cecily Parlour inlaid with the scales of a snathimor.’

‘My cabinet, Leela. I want it brought here today.’ My tone brokered no argument, and she inclined her head. I could tell she wanted to ask me why. She knew that I kept it locked at all times, that I wore the key on a chain around my neck. She must have wondered why I would be so protective of a liquor cabinet. And she surely must have wondered at the design when I commissioned it, at the hidden compartment at the back. But she knew better than to pry into my secrets.

I left Leela with the list of alterations and the gaggle of attendants as ‘helpers’ and sidled out of my new apartment, glad for a few minutes where no one was trailing after me. The excess of people who dogged my every waking moment was not only getting on my nerves but was also making it increasingly difficult to snatch moments alone to refresh the glamour. I tried to stand before the mirror whenever the opportunity presented itself instead of each night before I slept, and it was making me feel like I was always frantically grabbing at time.

Perhaps Draven was not as clever as he believed himself to be. He had desired me to be queen, but he had given me such a large, conspicuous thing to hold his magic in. The threat of discovery was growing and with it my anxiety to be done with his deal. But even after the final apple was delivered, the daily routine of refreshing my glamour would not change if I wanted to keep my beauty. Would this be the way of it for the rest of my life?

With a sigh of resignation, my feet carried me down the hall and to a staircase that would lead me to the third floor, where I would find the modest, inconveniently placed room that I had managed to procure for Senafae. When I reached her hall, I paused at the sight of someone else closing her door as they passed out of the room. It was a man, a large one, with the red face of a heavy drinker, and I had seen him before. The memory swam to me, a little hazy for the number of new faces and information I had been trying to absorb at the time, but decipherable. A song about spring love, coins tossed to a bowl, Dovegni twisting his ring round and round, and the man with the booming voice.Lord Perrius.

I watched him retreat down the hall before approaching the door myself, turning over the question I would ask Senafae and how I thought she might respond as I gripped the handle and stepped inside. The air had the muggy, stale smell of a sick room, and the light that managed to find its way past the drawn curtains was watery and grey. Worry squirmed in my chest at the sight of Senafae still in bed, her skin shiny and her blond hair slick with grease.

‘Good morning,’ I chirped as I swept to her bedside. ‘How are you feeling? You’re looking much better.’ The lie turned my stomach. I was acting like Madam Luzel the morning after I’d been attacked.

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