North Queen (Crowns Book 1), page 12
Norah cursed under her breath. Maybe if she went back one hall? But what if she had passed two? She had walked quite a way while distracted by her thoughts. She glanced at the lantern. The candlewick was near its end. What she didn’t want to do was get lost looking for a secret door with no lantern at all. She pursed her lips. Where was she now?
Her stomach knotted at the thought of returning to her chamber from the outside—where Titus stood. She supposed it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. It would be just like old times?
She turned the knob to the door as quietly as she could. It opened with no resistance, and she peeked through. A breath of relief escaped her. An empty room. She ducked out of what appeared to be a closet on the outside, then closed the door behind her. Everything was fine—she’d just figure out where she was and make her way back to her chamber.
Norah slipped out into the hall, appreciating the quiet of her silk shoes. It was late evening now, and she wasn’t expecting anyone about, but she’d rather make it back to her chamber without anyone seeing her. There would be less to explain.
Light spilled out from a room ahead, and she slowed. She wasn’t sure what room it was; she hadn’t been in this hall before. When she reached the open door, she sidled along the edge of the frame, leaning forward just enough to peek inside. It was a study. Her heart beat faster.
Alexander sat at his desk, reading through several documents. The candle to his right dropped a trail of wax down its side—he’d been there for a while. He sighed as he put one parchment down and then picked up another.
She couldn’t help herself. “What are you working on?” she asked.
He looked up in surprise, and a hint of a smile came to his lips. He rose from his chair. As his mind seemed to put things together, his brow creased. “Where did you come from?” he asked.
She stepped inside the study and shrugged. “Just walking.”
His eyes ran over her cloak. “Outside?”
Hammel’s hell. “Just around the castle. I… was cold.” She bit her lip. That definitely sounded like a lie.
Alexander raised a brow.
She drew closer, and his eyes followed. She took a seat on the wingback chair in front of the desk, and he slowly sat back down. His face had a warm familiarity, and she struggled to separate whether it was the comfort of their new friendship, or something more. She spied a biscuit and pear on a plate on the corner of the desk, and her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since Catherine had taken her to the seer. “Are you going to eat that?” she asked.
He glanced at the plate. “No. Are you hungry?” His brow dipped. “Have you not eaten?”
“I wasn’t hungry earlier, but I just realized I am a little now.” She grabbed the pear off the plate.
“I’ll get you some food. Don’t eat that. Adrian brought it hours ago.” He moved to stand.
“No, it’s all right,” she said quickly. “The pear’s fine.”
He sighed and gave a small smile. “I’ll have to make sure we do a better job taking care of our queen.”
His words sat uncomfortably in her ears. Queen. She swallowed. She had no business being queen.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Have I said something?”
She turned the pear in her hands, brushing her fingers over the smooth skin of the fruit. She wanted to tell him about the visit to the traveler, about seeing the visions, but Catherine had said not to. “My grandmother says that the council will push for my coronation right away.” She drew her eyes back up, searching for confirmation.
He nodded. “It’s true.”
“How soon?”
“A few days.”
A wave of panic washed through her. “A few days?” She wouldn’t even know her way around the castle properly within a few days. How could she be ready to be queen and stand against a monster the likes of what she’d seen tonight?
“I know it seems soon,” he tried to assure her, “but you’ll figure things out. You always do.”
Norah snorted in frustration. “I can’t even figure out how to keep my memory loss a secret. Did you speak to Adrian?”
Alexander nodded calmly. “He told me.”
“Talk about someone figuring things out. Well… he did. So did James. I hadn’t even said three sentences, and James… told me I was lying. Which I was.” She closed her eyes, silently cursing herself.
“Don’t fault yourself for Adrian and James. I should have told them. There was no way they wouldn’t have known something was wrong. They know you too well.”
She shook her head. “It’s more than just that. I can’t do this.”
Alexander leaned forward with his forearms on the edge of the desk. “Norah, you’re going to be a great queen.”
“You don’t know that,” she said, standing and bumping back the chair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Alexander moved to speak, but then stopped. The corner of his mouth curved into a slight smile. He rolled the documents in front of him into a leather binding and rose from the desk. “Come with me.”
His sudden pivot in the conversation made her brow dip with suspicion. “Where?” she asked.
“I want to show you something.”
She hoped it didn’t involve navigating back through a series of dark tunnels. Her gaze met Alexander’s. He offered his hand.
To hell if there were tunnels. She slipped her hand in his, and his skin warmed hers. It felt nice, and right.
He led her out of the study but paused in the hall. “Wait,” he said. “Where’s your guard?”
Norah twisted a little. “They… might… be back at my chamber door.”
“Back at your door?” His brow furrowed. “You’re alone? How did you slip out?”
She shrugged as she pursed her lips to the side. “Quietly?”
His jaw tightened, and the blue of his eyes burned brighter. Norah found herself not entirely annoyed at his concern. In fact, she wasn’t annoyed at all.
“Never mind for now,” he said. “Come on. We’ll discuss this later.”
She couldn’t help a small smile.
Alexander led her through several halls, which were lit only by the dim glow of candles in chandeliers. Their shadows danced against the stone. It was the first time he’d taken her hand, but he held it so naturally, like it belonged to him.
They came upon a guarded door, and Alexander nodded to the soldier, who stepped aside. He pushed it open and looked back at her, giving her a reassuring smile.
Through the door was another long hallway that led to another structure of the castle. They walked through the arched stone, finally coming to the hallway’s end. Ahead of them, the hall spilled into a vast, round chamber, with a glass ceiling dropping moonlight into the great room below.
“Watch your step,” he told her as he started down a spiral staircase to the bottom. His fingers tightened around hers to offer support.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
As they reached the bottom, she noted large openings carved into the walls. Each opening held a stone sarcophagus. Tombs. They were tombs. And there were so many.
“Is this supposed to lift my spirits?” she asked, raising a brow. “I share how I feel woefully inadequate, and you bring me to a room full of tombs?”
Alexander chuckled. “No. I mean, yes, it is supposed to lift your spirits. Although now I can understand how this might seem very odd.” He gave her hand a gentle pull. “But I want you to see something.”
She let him pull her farther into the chamber.
“This place is called the Hall of Souls. It’s the tomb of the kings of Mercia,” Alexander told her. “And queens.”
Despite being in the home of the dead in the darkness of night, there was a beauty to it. Intricate carvings lined the walls between the cists. In the center of the room were stairs to a small platform with a singular tomb that seemed to gleam under the rays of the moon. Inset in the stone were thick strips of wood engraved with scenes of battle triumphs.
“Here, look,” he said, leading her up the center stairs to the sarcophagus in the middle of the chamber. “Only the kings and queens of Mercia have come here, with the occasional stealthy lord justice.” His face held a smirk.
She smiled back.
He reached out and put his hand on the foot of the cist. “This is the tomb of King Hagen, the original great king of Mercia, who built this kingdom many generations before you. Put your hand here,” he said, touching the engraving at the foot.
She reached out and felt the wood inset. It was smooth, almost polished.
“What do you feel?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s… smooth.”
He took her hand and moved it further to the side. “And here?”
His touch was distracting, but she forced her mind to the carving. “Um… not as smooth?”
He nodded, his golden hair catching the moonlight from the windows above. “Think of how many men must have come here to ask King Hagen for strength, polishing this wood smooth with only the touch of their skin. How many hands does that take? How many touches?”
She moved her fingers back to the polished engraving, feeling its smoothness, to where her father must have touched and his father before him.
“See, Norah,” he said softly, “you aren’t the only one who’s thought yourself lost.”
The calm of reassurance settled her, and she looked at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alexander’s lips parted to say more, but then he stopped. She glanced down at her hand, still in his. It fit so perfectly, warm, protected, and safe—the way he made her feel.
“I should get you back to your chamber,” he said, finally breaking the spell.
Right. Her chamber. She felt a wave of disappointment, and it surprised her. She forced a nod, and he led her back the way they had come.
As they walked back to her chamber, she saw Titus’s posture shift before they even reached him. Seeing her outside—he hadn’t expected this.
“Sorry,” she mouthed to the large guard as they reached the door. She turned back to Alexander.
“Good night, Your Highness,” he told her. His formality had returned.
“Good night, Lord Justice.” She turned back toward her chamber. “Sorry,” she whispered again to Titus as she slipped past him and inside.
Chapter fifteen
The door to Norah’s chamber swung open. “Rise, child!” Catherine said as she swept in. “Quickly!”
Norah sat straight up in bed. Daylight shined through the window. Had she really slept until the sun had risen? She wiped her eyes. She’d slept—she’d actually slept. And it felt amazing.
“Quickly!” her grandmother pushed again as Rebecca hurried in with a dress.
Catherine’s tone quashed Norah’s restful satisfaction. Why quickly? “What’s going on?”
“The council has called a state now that James and Elias have returned. I thought we’d have more time, both James and I pushed, but no. It’s today.”
Today. Her pulse picked up. Today—no. “I can’t meet with the council today.” She wasn’t anywhere near ready for the state. She still didn’t entirely know what that meant, only that they would ask questions—questions that she had no answers for. They’d want to know where she’d been, and while Catherine had come up with a response that she’d rehearsed a hundred times, it still didn’t sound true. Because it wasn’t. And then when they discovered her…
She didn’t want to think about that. She couldn’t think about that and keep control of her nerves.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” her grandmother said, seeming to read her mind. “I’m still queen regent. I’ll lead us through. Everything will be fine.”
But she didn’t believe that. Even James wasn’t confident she’d fool the council—he’d told her so directly.
Catherine practically ripped Norah’s nightgown from her just as Rebecca swept around with a corset, tying it and pulling it tight before Norah could adjust for her breath. The gown came over her head, from her maid or her grandmother, she wasn’t sure. Not that it mattered. She just needed it on. Panic flowed through her veins, and being rushed didn’t help. She forced her mind back to the question the council would ask her first—where she’d been…
“Remember, you’ll say you’ve been kept well by a secret ally, one that wishes to remain secret,” Catherine said, as if reading her mind. “Instead of focusing on the past, I’ll drive our conversation to the present and the future. We’ll talk about your marriage to Phillip.”
Norah stiffened. She’d rather tell the council about her memory loss.
Catherine tugged the fitted gown straight, then pushed Norah to the vanity and pressed her abruptly down in the chair. She pulled the brush from Rebecca’s hand and raked it swiftly through Norah’s hair. “By now, Phillip will know of your return.”
Norah winced, more from his name than the speedy, aggressive hair brushing. This man she didn’t know—the man she was expected to wed.
Her grandmother swept back the sides of Norah’s hair with floral pins. “We’ll hear from him soon, and it shouldn’t be hard to occupy their attention with that—it’s what’s most important, anyway.”
Norah’s mind reeled. With every fiber of her being, she rejected the notion of this marriage. Her soul clawed against the obligations that chained her and against the path she couldn’t choose for herself. Or perhaps she could choose, but there was the weight of so many looking to her—of so many lives depending on her. Turning her back to them would break her. And she found herself feeling the same as she had with James—there was nothing she could do but agree. Nothing she could do but follow. At least for now.
Catherine swept a cloak over Norah’s shoulders and pulled her toward the chamber door, and she went. Her guard picked up behind them as they started down the hall, as if herding her toward her future. She swallowed even though her tongue sat dryly in her mouth. Pretend. Pretend to be the person she was before. Look the part. Play the part. Pretend the best she could.
They exited the castle through the double doors to the outside and walked along the courtyard toward the judisaept. The winter air was cold, and Norah shuddered, but she welcomed it. Anything to distract her spiraling mind.
Beside her, Catherine slowed, and Norah followed her gaze to something on the other side of the courtyard. She squinted against the icy air but couldn’t make out what or who it was through the throngs of people gathering.
“What is it?” Norah asked her.
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, but she’d stopped. Castle guards broke from their posts and hurried toward the crowd.
Suddenly, a scream ripped through the growing masses. Norah’s guard swept around her. Another scream sounded, but not one of fear—one of anguish. Norah started toward it.
Catherine caught her hand. “What are you doing?”
“Something’s happened—I have to see!” And she pulled her arm from her grandmother’s grasp.
“Your Highness,” Titus called from behind her, but she ignored him and strode toward the crowd. He followed after with his sword in hand.
She drew closer. The crowd surrounded a large wagon, pulled by four horses caked with dried mud and dirt. The animals stood still, weary and spent from their journey. No one drove the wagon, but it was stacked high with what appeared to be grain sacks in the back, stained in browning crimson. One sat open on the ground, but she couldn’t see what was inside. A woman was crying with her arms outstretched toward the wagon as a man pulled her away.
Suddenly, Alexander was in front of her. She jerked in surprise as his arm came out, halting her. “Norah,” he said, low, “go back to the castle. I’ll be there in a moment.”
But she didn’t want to go back. “What’s in the sacks?”
“Norah.” He clasped her arm, gently but firmly, and tried to move her back toward the castle.
“What’s in the sacks?” she pressed again.
“Just go back. I’ll be there in a moment, and I’ll tell you then.”
“You’ll tell me now,” she demanded. Her patience was waning, and she wouldn’t leave until she knew what was going on.
His mouth tightened. “We expected the Shadow King to attempt to retake the mountains of Bahoul again, especially if he learned of your return. It’s a critical stronghold that used to belong to the Shadowlands. I sent another thousand men for reinforcement.”
That still didn’t answer her question. “What’s in the sacks?”
His lips thinned. “The men I sent. Their heads.”
Nausea swept through her as she glanced back at the wagon and its horror-filled cargo. The heads of a thousand men. She wavered. His hand tightened around her arm.
“Go back inside,” he said. “I’ll come after I’ve dealt with this.”
Titus stepped forward, offering his own arm, but she pulled away from both of them and turned back toward the castle, numb with shock.
Catherine stood just behind her with Edward, James, and two other members of the council.
“Lord Justice!” Edward called out, and hurried after Alexander. The other two councilmen bowed to Norah and followed after.
Catherine reached out and clasped Norah’s hand. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”
Norah shook her head, her mouth hanging open. “No, it’s not. None of this is all right.” She felt James’s eyes on her and cast him a desperate gaze. “Are we to discuss this today too?” As if the myriad of other topics weren’t enough. As if she wasn’t already near breaking. And still she had to face the council. In a matter of moments. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t do this.
He shook his head. “No. The state’s been postponed.”
It was the smallest of mercies compared to everything else, but still the relief of it almost brought tears to her eyes.
“To prepare for your coronation,” James added. “You’ll be crowned tomorrow.”
