Page 27 of Rook of Ruin
“Is that what they are?” Instantly, I’m interested. I’ve only heard brief mentionings of mischievous fae and nymphs in books, but no true descriptions.
“You didn’t know?” Simon glances at Alec, who is silent. “They . . . well, they actually lived in Acros at one point, over a hundred years ago, before the war with Tynan. The painter either knew them very well or was creating something from memory.”
“I thought the painter just imagined blue-haired women and pointy-eared men.” Once again, I take in my mother’s painting. How would she have been able to paint them from memory? How would she have known any fae . . . or nymphs? Simon’s dimples deepen, and Alec sips his tea, completely emotionless. “But I see now that isn’t the case. Tell me about them, please.”
Simon waves his hand as if dismissing my lack of knowledge. “It’s a long story. Perhaps one left for a carriage ride.”
I try to hide it, but warmth creeps into my face. Another knock at the door, and Simon sighs. He saunters over, opening it wide enough for a glimpse of brown leathers.
“It’s for you, Spider,” Simon tells Alec and frowns at the Rook standing beyond the door. “Unless you are here for a proposal?” Simon doesn’t wait for a response. He walks back over to the other couch and plops onto it, drinking the last of his tea while a tall, young male Rook slides into my chambers. He has an awkward grin and runs a hand through his dark blond hair full of pomade. A flash of anger goes across his face when he notices me. His eyes squint into two little slits.
I recognize he is a lord, but I can’t remember his name.What’s his problem?
“Rook, would you care for some tea?” I ask politely, smiling as Simon pours himself another cup.
“Not from you,” he says with more venom than necessary.
Alec immediately jumps up from his chair and strides over to the young Rook, his muscles flexing, fists clenched. “Do not fucking speak to her like that.”
The dark blond Rook stares at his superior officer. At his full height, Alec is a head-and-a-half taller than the young Rook. An aura of raw violence surrounds them both, and for a moment, I think they are going to come to blows.
The younger Rook gives in first. “Apologies,” he says without looking in my direction, glaring at Alec.
“Forgiven,” I reply, easily disregarding his attitude.
Simon watches this all unfold with a dimpled grin, and he pops a small pastry into his mouth, chewing slowly. He is just as amused as I am.
“I need a word with you,sir, privately.” His snarkysirwas a slander. He likely disapproves of Alec trying to rise above his station to become a knight. The young man looks one more time at me with absolute disdain and walks out of the room, followed by Alec.
“You clearly have a fan.” Simon gives me a toothy grin. He’s so easily disarming. I wish I could be like that. He sits back and sips his tea. How this man seems to make himself at home wherever he is, I will never understand. I have no doubt Simon could be in a Locker cell and still look the same.
“I do. I’m sure to make them wherever I go.” I don’t think I could be more sarcastic. “Now that the queen is throwing a ball in my honor, I have no doubt that my popularity will only rise—especially due to my chasteness being no longer in question. Old men will be trying to put a claim on me.” I practically gag from the words. I don’t want to think about marriage to a lecherous man without so much as a care for my thoughts or feelings. “Imagine being married to someone who is older than your dead father.”
Simon spits out his tea and quickly grabs an ivory cloth napkin to blot it. For the first time since I’ve met him, Simon is clearly uncomfortable.
“Simon, I’m sorry.” I bite down on my bottom lip, but I stop myself from lowering my eyes. Something about being in the castle has always made me feel the need to be docile. I think it started from Ralin constantly chiding me about anything and everything when she was a teenager. Those were some rough years.
Simon stands, takes one large step, and haunches down. Not kneeling like Alec did before. His dark brown eyes meet mine. His hand comes up as if he wants to touch me, but he stops himself. “You have nothing to apologize for, O. I’m sorry there was nothing I could do to help you today. That political shit, those invasive questions . . .” There’s a brief flash of ire on his face before it smooths out. “I do not agree with the questions they asked.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Simon. Being a part of the court is political; everything is political.” I clasp my hands. “I was asked invasive questions because they wanted to know if I was a traitor and to know my worth as a potential bride. They wanted to know if I finished my last year as a Rook. If I learned how to seduce and fuck. I did not.” I laugh bitterly. “Childishly, I thought I was one of the best Rooks. You know, the sad part is, no one told me. Not one person, until Alec . . . well, he told me. He did everything he could to explain what to expect without divulging anything confidential. I didn’t—he—well, it probably wouldn’t have been so bad had I actually listened to him.” The words taste bitter in my mouth. It would have still been horrible had I fought him.
“‘So bad’?” Simon’s eyes search mine. “I watched your body hemorrhage blood. I watched as blood seeped out of your nose, eyes, and mouth, and all theywanted to know at the end wasyour worth as a bride.” He puts a hand through his curly hair. That one curl falls back over his forehead, and I can’t help myself. I reach out and push it back. His features still, watching my movements like a cat. My curiosity complete, I lower my hand and softly smile.
“I’m fine now, as you see.” I motion towards my body.
“I do.” He pauses for a moment, gets up, and walks over to my mother’s painting to study it again.
A yawn escapes me. I doze off watching Simon—a comforting way to fall asleep.
Idip my head to smell the white roses and reread his note, a smile on my face.
Shoving the blankets off my bed, I swing open my bedroom door. Patsy is busying herself with the remnants of last night’s dinner and placing a new pot of tea and breakfast on the end table of my couch.
“I see you’re finally up.” She huffs and then smiles. “I see that you also found the flowers and note from Sir Caddel.” She shakes her head. “Two bloody men in your room last night. Do you know how many pushy ladies’ maids I had to talk to? Butdon’t worry, my lady. I’ve told them all the facts to stop any rumors before they spread. I told them those men are in charge of your wellbeing, that the queen has tasked them to keep you safe. A few bolder ones have asked why you weren’t assigned a castle guard or a Raven, and I told them that it’s because the queen believes you can take care of yourself when the gentlemen are away. Because you’re a Rook, and the fact you survived the Spider. That shut them up.” She pours the tea, steam rolls off the cup, and she motions for me to sit. “I thought you were going to die.” Tears well up in Patsy’s eyes.
I hold out my hand and she takes it. Her warm hand against my cool one. “I didn’t. And, Patsy, I probably would have if it weren’t for Simon . . . and Alec.”
“I know it isn’t his fault. He was doing what he was ordered. I just—I’m just worried for you.” She sighs and hands me the teacup with her other hand as I sit. “I see how that Rook looks at you. Like if he could, he would consume all of you and then spit you out, leaving nothing but bones and heartache.”
