Page 5 of The Queen's Huntsman
“Did you realize her father was a king as great as yours or mine?” Innogen asked. “’Tis true,” she said, when Gwendolyn did not respond immediately. “But, alas, as kings so oft do, he died. In battle with my husband, wouldn’t you know? Two years past,” she said, then stopped to reconsider, and shrugged. “Mayhap three. The years do fly!”
Not when one was imprisoned and miserable, Gwendolyn thought bitterly. In such case, they crept like a two-legged beetle, dragging its hindquarters.
“Alas, those Huns,” she lamented. “They are never quite content to remain where they belong. It was only a matter of time before they set their sights on Pretania. But they made a grave mistake in believing those northern beasts would care to share their lands.”
Queen Innogen reached out to pluck a bit of black fur from Gwendolyn’s shift, leaving the moment with a pregnant pause, before continuing. “Of course, they drove their army south, where my Alba was camped and there, tried to murder my boy. His father rode to his aid, but not before appealing toyourfather for assistance. Did you know Corineus refused? He claimed it betrayed his treaty with the Prydein.” Her eyes flashed with fury, her gaze now spearing Gwendolyn with daggers of hatred, but as quickly as her anger was revealed, it fled, and her voice returned to its usual lilt. “Now I ask you… what good is an alliance if your allies do not rise to your defense?”
Gwendolyn said nothing, uncertain where this discourse was going. It wasn’t like Innogen to ramble so much, and Gwendolyn knew she never spoke without intending to make a point.
“That was the first time my Locrinus ever fought beside his father—against Humber. And his daughter—well, he took one look at Estrildis and brought her home.”
Gwendolyn squeezed her arms, holding them fast. “So it appears, taking brides from dead kings has become quite the habit for your men,” she said, unable to help herself.
For the second time, she wondered why the queen was here—surely not to commiserate, and Gwendolyn didn’t need or want a history lesson. There must be another reason, and then she realized suddenly what it could be as the queen’s gaze fell once more on the tray at Gwendolyn’s bedside.
Did she suspect the gifts?
Did she mean to accuse Ely?
Even knowing that it might expose her make-do sword, Gwendolyn moved between the queen and the tray, prepared to upset the contents if she must. Thereafter, if Innogen wanted proof, she could lick the floor for evidence.
“Of course,” she continued, smiling coolly, her gaze shifting from the tray at Gwendolyn’s back to meet Gwendolyn’s eyes. “Unlike me… unlike you… Estrildis is quite pleased with her lot…” She lifted two fingers, pressing them together. “All but for one small complication.”
“Allow me to guess.” Gwendolyn lifted her chin. “Iam the complication?”
Queen Innogen’s eyes sparkled, obviously pleased that she had deduced correctly, but how difficult could it be? Her husband and his lover now carried on as though Gwendolyn didn’t exist—even so far as installing Estrildis in the queen’s rightful apartments, and everybody knew it, though Gwendolyn had only learned as much through Ely.
“I wonder though… have you met my sweet Habren?”
Estrildis’ child.Gwendolyn had, but once, and briefly. He was a sweet little boy, fair of hair and temper as well, with a face so pretty he could have been a girl, though he looked too much like his father for Gwendolyn to consider him beautiful.
The queen’s countenance softened as she spoke of her grandson. “He’s so like his father at this age.” She hugged herself with the memory. “My sweet Locrinus was such a good boy—so, so beautiful, but that will not surprise you.”
Knowing Locrinus, Gwendolyn could no longer consider him beautiful because his heart was hideous. Still, she said nothing, humoring the queen, torn now between the tray and the staff. She defended the tray, knowing that Ely’s wellbeing could be at stake.
“And yet,” continued Innogen. “This has left me to wonder, Gwendolyn… You see, dear, I’ve witnessed firsthand how contentious siblings can be, even amidst true blood.” She nodded. “You’re quite fortunate to be an only child.”
Hardly so, Gwendolyn thought. She would have preferred a brother to assume the throne. It would have gone so much easier for him. And a sister might have been divine.
Innogen lifted a brow. “Even as we speak, Kamber and Albanactus both vie for fair shares of this wretched little isle. Though fortunately for me, neither is so ambitious as my Locrinus, and my Kamber should be pleased enough to take Loegria when his brother has no further use for it.” She sighed now. “Meanwhile, Alba has again set his sights upon the north…”
And now she paused, allowing Gwendolyn a moment to consider that news, but not for long. “I must imagine such rivalry cannot be helped,” she said, too serenely.
Perhaps amidst spiders or sharks, Gwendolyn mused.
Queen Innogen’s smile tightened. “Naturally, you wouldn’t know such things.”
“What has any of this to do with me?” Gwendolyn asked impatiently.
“Well, dear…” Queen Innogen looked at her askance, and then once more at the tray at Gwendolyn’s back. “You must realize… if my son gets you with child… and that child should be a boy, I fear it may bode ill for you…both.” She gave one last heavy-lidded glance at the tray, her expression purposely bored, but there was something behind her eyes that was telling.
Gwendolyn blinked now, finally comprehending.
It wasn’t the gifts Innogen cared about, but perhaps poison.
Estrildis?
Given his choice, Gwendolyn knew Locrinus would never touch her, but she also knew that the entire point of their wedding was to produce an heir to her bloodline, and this was still the intention, with or without the fulfillment of Gwendolyn’s prophecy1.
