Page 12 of The Royal Curse

What must he think of me? Not that I’d made a habit of giving a damn what the servants and guards thought of me, in large part because I already knew most of them thought I was odd and pitiable and best avoided.

But I found that I cared now.

It had to be because my mother might very well change her mind again if he went to her and told her he wouldn’t be able to accompany me to the conclave. If he showed sufficient tact, she probably wouldn’t even punish him for it. She’d readily believe I’d pushed a tolerant man past the limits of his patience.

“Something the matter, Your Highness?” His tone gave away as little as his face had.

Yes. Yes, lots of things were the matter, from my insistent memories of my absurd behavior last night, to needing Andreas to agree to go with me to the conclave, and ending with having just been in his arms.

I spun on my heel and nearly tripped over my own feet. “I’m fine!” I said quickly, as he made to lunge forward again. Gods, I wouldn’t survive another crushing embrace intended to protect me from my own clumsiness. The embarrassment would kill me. “But—my mother changed her mind. I mean, the queen,” I blurted out, and felt my cheeks get even hotter. For fuck’s sake, of course he knew who I meant bymy mother. “I’ll be traveling to the conclave after all. The one I mentioned last night, and I’m sure you’ve heard me speaking about it before.”

I paused, trying to gather my wits enough to say what needed to be said. Andreas would have to be informed of his authority over the expedition, and I’d prefer it to come from me rather than from my mother; at least that way, I could frame it as graciously delegating the planning of the journey to someone I considered competent, rather than as my mother putting her untrustworthy adult child under the smothering care of someonesheconsidered competent.

The right words didn’t come. I’d meant to have another pot of coffee before I even thought about broaching this conversation, hadn’t I?

But…why did Andreas look as embarrassed as I felt? With his cheeks all red and his hand fiddling with the hilt of his sword?

He drew himself up and squared his shoulders the way he had the day we met. Only this time, it didn’t seem mocking or defensive, but respectful.

I froze, bracing myself. That couldn’t be a good sign. It meant he felt guilty.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I hope you can forgive me, Your Highness. I’d meant to bring it up myself, but you mentioned it first.”

Oh, gods. Definitely guilty. My heart skittered and thumped. Had Andreas already seen my mother somehow, between when I’d spoken to her and now? How the hell…? He wouldn’t go. Or he’d talked her out of it.

I stared at him wide-eyed, my throat constricting too much for me to ask him any questions.

“By the look on your face, you’re horrified, and I apologize, but Your Highness—you were so unhappy last night.” Andreas took a step forward, a hand extended as if he meant to touch me, and then he stopped abruptly and clasped both hands behind him. “It was presumptuous of me to interfere. And even more to accept the queen’s terms without speaking to you first. I can’t believe she listened to me, to be honest with you. I think perhaps she regretted refusing you and was glad of an excuse to change her mind. Although don’t repeat that, I beg you,” he added in a rush, grimacing. “Speculating about what’s in a queen’s mind isn’t my place.”

My own laugh took me by surprise—and Andreas too, by the way his mouth fell open. But relief had hit me too irresistibly for me to control my reaction.

And Andreas’s rueful admission of his own impertinence in thinking about how to manipulate the queen, when I knew full well he didn’t regret it at all and only wanted not to be caught, simply amused me too much to hide.

Especially since I agreed completely. As long as it didn’t actually amount to treason, queens were to be got around and dodged as much as possible.

Perhaps Andreas would…? But no, I dismissed that idea instantly. He might be willing to discuss my mother’s motives, something she wouldn’t particularly appreciate, but he wouldn’t disobey her and agree to allow me to control the journey behind her back. Not when he’d given her his oath. I knew that much, even though he’d only been my guard for a matter of a fortnight.

And anyway…you were so unhappy last night. He’d pitied me enough to go to my mother and ask on my behalf. Cared enough—I’d think of it that way for my own self-respect. Anyway, he’d done it out of loyalty to me, and that had to go both ways.

“I won’t tell,” I said. “And—thank you.” Ought I to apologize for the way I’d behaved last night? Yes, but I couldn’t. I might spontaneously combust. I could offer him something else, though, as a tacit acknowledgment that I owed him. “I promise I won’t be troublesome on the journey.”

That earned me the first real smile I thought I’d seen on Andreas’s face: not a grin with an edge to it, and not amusement I suspected of being at my expense. A true, friendly smile that lit up his eyes and dimpled his cheeks and made me blink as if the sun had suddenly gotten brighter.

Had he smiled at Amara like that? No wonder she’d developed a girlish partiality.

“You couldn’t be troublesome if you tried,” Andreas said, and he actually sounded like he meant it. Of course, he might mean it backhandedly, a commentary on how little trouble he thought he’d have controlling me if he needed to. Probably some of both. “It’ll be my pleasure to escort you, Your Highness. Do you want to start planning the journey now? Or wait until you’re feeling a little more yourself? You know, I drink ale instead of wine to avoid the headache. You might try it next time. If you’re not too royal for ale, that is.”

I stared at him. Teasing me. He wasteasingme. And not in a mean-spirited way, either. My own lips tugged into a smile I couldn’t have helped with a knife to my throat.

Well, no wonder my mother had given in to his request, if he’d charmed her like this. Buggering gods. Would all the women in my family end up half in love with this fellow? Save me. I had to keep him away from Philippa.

“This evening,” I said. “After supper. No ale, though. I want our wits about us as we plan the route.”

Andreas bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

I stood there for a long few moments after his quick footsteps had faded away on the path below the terrace.

You were so unhappy last night.

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