Page 50 of Poisoned Kingdom
My hope rose at seeing the mage, but it didn’t last.
‘His Majesty is busy with other things,’ he replied, making me sigh.
‘Then please do me a favour. Tell him that keeping me under lock and key isn’t benefiting anyone. I’m calm and compliant, but that will change if he insists on playing games,’ I said, pointing to Ciesko’s sigil still glowing on my forearm. ‘If he wants answers, he can ask me now—or the next time he sends someone, they’ll find an empty room.’
Riordan sighed heavily, shaking his head.
‘My hair will turn grey dealing with you two. Fine, I’ll ask him, but you can’t go dressed like that. Reynard would have my head if I paraded you around wearing only a nightgown like some second-class virgin.’
The remark cracked my carefully crafted façade. ‘What the crud is a second-class virgin?’ I asked before looking around. ‘And what can I wear? My clothes have vanished.’ I frowned, noticing that not only had my kirtle disappeared, but my boots were gone too.
‘I’m surprised you’ve never heard of . . . Well, I doubt women in the Brotherhood ever need to see a healer to ask to be returned to . . . their natural state,’ he said, and my mouth dropped open. I didn’t even notice when he clapped his hands and the door opened again, revealing a maid with a handful of fabric. ‘Come in and help the lady.’
‘Someone would ask for that?’
Riordan sniggered. ‘Many, especially after a failed engagement. Get dressed, Roksana. If you’re lucky, I’ll come and get you in an hour.’
I nodded, suddenly tired despite having woken up late, unsure what would happen if, despite the interrogation, Reynard still wouldn’t let me go. Interrogation by truthseeker was always a tricky business. As much as I wanted to tell him the truth about Jagon’s affairs and our encounter in the forest, there were Brotherhood secrets no one should be privy to. How would he react if I refused to answer?
My sudden stillness must have caught the psychic mage’s attention because he sighed again. ‘Do not be afraid, Roksana. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m on your side. The king’s not a monster, whatever you may think of him.’
I felt a sarcastic comment straining to escape, but I didn’t want to antagonise my one ally, at least for now.
‘He might not be a monster, but he is a stubborn and infuriately arrogant oaf who doesn’t listen to reason. Now, could you please leave so I can dress?’ I asked, kicking myself as I watched the maid set out some clothes.
Riordan fought valiantly to keep a straight face at my characterisation of the king before both men left the room. I didn’t miss Ciesko whispering in his ear while gesturing in my direction. Whatever the revelation was, Riordan paused, glancing at me strangely as the door closed.
A short while later, a beautiful royal blue gown was artfully draped over my body in the softest of embraces. Unfortunately, as pretty as it was, the dress was too tight across my chest, even if it swept nicely over the curve of my hips, accentuating my waist. It was clear the gown was made for someone less encumbered than I, and it didn’t help that age had added a little extra padding to my body. Every time I took a deep breath, thelaces holding the velvet bodice together creaked, stretching the fabric at the seams.
I looked at the maid who was biting her lips to restrain her laughter.
‘I’m sorry, my lady,’ she said. ‘It was the king’s choice, and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss sizes.’
I blinked, looking at her. ‘The king . . . picked the dress?’
If I’d thought nothing could surprise me, I was wrong. The image of that muscled giant inspecting frilly dresses and picking one out for me was my undoing. I bent over, laughing so hard that the dress creaked even more, sending me into a complete meltdown.
It was official. I was going insane.
Riordan must have thought the same when he entered the room, frowning as I tried to breathe, tears streaming down my face.
‘Roksana? He’ll see you . . . What’s going on?’
‘The king picked the dress . . . and it creaks,’ I explained, gasping for breath.
The mage frowned, but as I spread my arms, reproducing the sound, his lips twitched as he controlled his laughter.
‘That’s not all. Look at this.’ Out of pure mischief, I took a deep breath. The bodice groaned before a pinging snap announced the top eyelet holding it together had broken under the strain, revealing much more of my cleavage. ‘Oof. There, I can breathe now.’
‘I can’t . . . So that’s why he visited the chancellor’s daughter earlier,’ Riordan muttered, desperately trying to keep his composure. Only the maid looked distraught.
‘My lady, please stop, we don’t have anything else for you . . .’
‘Fine . . . fine, let’s go,’ I said, gesturing to Riordan. ‘Lead the way, Mage, and just so you know, I won’t be curtsying.’
‘I wouldn’t expect it. Not after that display,’ he answered, giving me his arm. ‘I wish we’d met earlier, Roksana. You are truly interesting—and more entertaining than I’d ever have thought,’ he said carelessly. I realised Riordan and I were similar in age, even if he acted more mature than I did.
‘I live to serve. Poisons, laughter . . . I’m a singing, dancing, year-round peasant’s fair,’ I said with a polite bow, and this time, his laughter filled the corridor.
