Page 43 of Rook of Ruin
“Good. Let’s have dinner, and then we shall get to work. Nora, please join us this evening.” Surprise on all three faces, and a little respect from both guards.
Nora piles our dishes with fish, asparagus, and potatoes. I pour the wine, generous amounts for all.
Christoph sits back. “My lady.”
“O,” I correct Christoph.
“My lady O,” he says, trying to bite back a laugh. “Do you want to hear about the time Alec—”
“No,” Nolan cuts him off. “That is for him to say.” Nolan is quite protective of Alec. I like that. “But I will tell you about the time we were mistaken for Ravens.”
He tells the story with so much vigor and embellishment, I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat while we eat. Nolan should be a writer, and I tell him so. To my absolute delight, he begins another story while Christoph and Nora collect our dishes and set out the tea. After tea, we get to work. The men bathe Alec while Nora and I strip the bed and replace the sheets and blankets. I open the curtains and the windows, letting in fresh air and the last of the sunlight. Nora and I leave the bedroom while the men make Alec comfortable.
“My lady, what you are doing is very admirable.” Nora regards me carefully.
I give her a sad smile. “Nothing admirable about taking care of him. He would and has done the same for me.”
She gives me a knowing look. “Yes, my lady. But other women of the court do not share food with their maids . . . Some are not treated as people.”
I shrug my aching shoulders.Truth.
She continues, “Those same ladies don’t care much about anything, but you did, you do . . . You delivered a baby, saved the mother and father, fought those beasts with ferocity, saved the village, and now I see you are doing everything you can to save the Spider.”
I shrug again.Truth.
She lowers her voice. “The servants talk. They say you are of the people. I want you to know, when you marry the prince, I will follow you. If you would have me, that is.” Her face reddens.
“Nora, I don’t know any princes, much less ones that have offered marriage, but if I ever marry a prince, I would love your company.” I smile and pat her hand.
The face she gives has my mind whirling. “Yes, you do.” I look at her, unconvinced, and she blurts out, “Sir Caddel.” My face pales as she continues, “One of the bastard princes of Bethal.”
I plop down onto the sofa, the wind knocked out of my lungs.Sir.Another word for prince. Simon doesn’t wear a crown around like my sister’s husband, Lewis, and the queen certainly did not introduce him as the prince of Bethal. I thought he was a knight. I thought he wasjustSimon.Not Simon, the Great Warrior King’s son. Damn him.He’d had plenty of opportunities to tell me. Why? Why would he lie?
“You didn’t know?” I shake my head, she sucks in air. “I thought that was why you were spending so much time together. That you were considering his offer of marriage.” She sits next to me. “I’m so sorry, Lady Verlan. I’m so sorry.”
I pull her in for a side hug. “It’s okay, Nora. I’m glad you told me. Please keep me informed of any gossip, even the smallest thing, especially pertaining to Sir Caddel.” I should have told her to do so from the start. A reckless mistake that may have cost me dearly. I like Simon, but helied—and I will not be a pawn in his game.
“Yes, my lady.” She nods with conviction, like I have tasked her with the very soul of my being. Maybe I have.
Alec smells of my soap. I lie next to his shaking body, blankets pulled up around his neck and tucked in tightly. Two days have passed, and still no improvement. Nora watched Alec earlier in the day while I visited my sister, belly swollen and the anticipation of a newborn shown all over her beautiful face. I was happy to see her, happy for her.
My dark room feels claustrophobic compared to her light and breezy room. I didn’t have the heart to ask if she knew Simon was a prince. Not just any prince, but abastardof a person for lying to me.
“Didyouknow Simon was a Bethalian prince?” I ask Alec, who doesn’t respond. “You probably did—keeping your secrets, dodging the truth.” I’m hurt and blaming a man who can’t respond. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was cruel and undeserved.” Tears fall down my face.
In just a few hours, I will be expected to wake and get my final measurements for my dress. The dress Ralin chose for me is a surprise, and I have no doubt it will be very fashionableand risque. I don’t want to go to a ball; I want to go back to the Locker, maybe castrate a few pedophiles, slice up a few murderers. Cut, slice, heal and then do it again. I don’t have to worry about my heart getting tangled up and hurt in the Locker.
“I think I’m fucked up,” I whisper to Alec. Then I pause, watching his face. “I’ll take your lack of a reply as an agreement.”
I pretend to be him in a whispered male voice. “You’re a reckless fuck up,O.I’m surprised anyone is interested in becoming your husband.” I become a little louder, still doing a poor imitation of his voice. “Someone actually bid for you?Obviously, if they knew you,they would rescind the offer.” I choke a laugh. “O,if you would have been a real Rook,then you would have seen through Simon’s lie.”
I let myself silently cry and then lock all my emotions away.
“I’ll do better, I promise.” I carefully move away from him now that his shaking has stopped, keeping the blankets tucked around him. I fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting my window.
“You’re moving.” The seamstress’s frown deepens as she shifts the tiny glasses up on her large head. I’m pinched and prodded, my measurements taken three times, and I’m forced to lie practically naked on the floor as they trace my body onto a very thin sheet of paper. It’s for my “surprise dress.” If there was ever a time I wished I had Alec’s sharp tongue, now would be it.
Nora pours tea for the seamstress and her assistant, but they refuse it and quickly finish. Promising that I will be the most beautiful lady at the ball, they leave my sitting room before I pull on a cream silk robe and take the tea Nora offers.
