North Queen (Crowns Book 1), page 34
He’d seen her. But she didn’t dare look back to see if he would come after her. She focused her eyes ahead. And then she slowed.
The king was walking toward her. A surprise—he’d said he wouldn’t be back until late. It wasn’t an unwelcome surprise, though. Beside him strode the lord commander. He was unwelcome.
Thankfully, the commander forked away and headed toward the training fields, though not before casting her a dark eye. Good riddance. She turned her attention back to the king. The corners of her mouth turned up, and she pursed it back. But she certainly wasn’t unhappy to see him.
His own mouth held the hint of a smile, and her eyes moved to his lips. She hadn’t forgotten how they felt. She swallowed and tried to shake the path from where her mind was beginning to wander.
“North Queen,” he greeted her.
“Salar Mikael,” she greeted back, trying out the Kharavian title. It felt very… unnatural. She wasn’t sure why.
He tilted his head. “It’s not customary to use both names.”
She didn’t want to call him Salar—a name so… distant. “All right. Mikael.” That felt natural. She wasn’t sure if he’d be fine with her calling him by his name, but she caught the hint of a smile, and she smiled back. “You’re back sooner than I’d expected.”
“I had something to get back to.”
“Battle planning?” she jested. Something else dark and nefarious, no doubt.
“You.”
She paused. Why did she like that? She bit her lip. “Worried I might make my escape?” It was a jest. Mostly.
But he shook his head. “No. I wanted to see you again.”
She liked that even more. Had their last interaction stayed in his mind, as it had in hers?
“I heard you had the Crest working in the gardens yesterday,” he said as they started toward the castle.
She glanced out at the practice fields to where the commander had picked up inspection of the soldiers. “No, that was the lord commander’s doing,” she said irritably. “I was planting flowers.”
“A queen shouldn’t be laboring in the dirt.”
“It wasn’t laboring,” she argued. “I actually quite enjoyed it.” She needed to be out of the castle and doing something. “And even if I was, I’ll do what pleases me. The lord commander oversteps, and it’s unacceptable.”
He slowed. “I know he’s not a man of gentle nature, but the lord commander looks out for my interests, and now yours.”
She scoffed. “Not my interests.”
“You judge him too harshly.” His tone held an edge of defense, and she quieted. He put his absolute trust in his brute, loved him as a brother, and would defend him fiercely, even to her. The commander could divide them, and that’s the last thing she wanted. She had to be careful.
Silence hung between them as they walked, then he said, “Labor in the dirt if it makes you happy. I just ask you to refrain when your people arrive for the marriage. I don’t want them to think I took their queen for slave labor.”
It was a jest to bridge them back to a good place. He was trying. And it was an acceptable compromise. Norah couldn’t help her smile. “Yes, I can see my grandmother having heart palpitations.”
Mikael’s brow creased. “Surely your grandmother won’t come.”
His assumption surprised her. “She’d planned to travel to Aleon. Of course she’ll come. Why wouldn’t she?”
Mikael raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.
“This alliance is important, and I’m her granddaughter,” she insisted. “I’m getting married, and I need her. She’ll come.”
“Of course,” he replied, but doubt lingered on his face.
There would be tension between their kingdoms, understandably, and it would take time to adjust, but her grandmother wouldn’t deny her. Mikael didn’t know Catherine. He’d see.
“I’m sure you’ve already eaten,” he said, “but will you join me for some breakfast?”
Her smile returned. “I’d love to.”
Norah strode outside into the daylight with a spring in her step. Breakfast with Mikael had left her in high spirits. He was… different… than she’d expected. She liked it.
She decided to visit the mare again and stop by the garden and say hello to Bremhad along the way. Vitalia followed close behind, as did Norah’s guard. She was disappointed to have Sonal in her service again today, but she wouldn’t let him dampen her spirits.
Norah made her way along the manicured topiaries and combed the gardens for the greenskeeper, but he was nowhere to be found. Norah spotted another man by the laurels, and she approached. He bowed low when he saw her.
“Is Bremhad here?” she asked.
The man said nothing and remained bowing.
“A man named Bremhad,” she said again. “Is he here?”
Still, the man said nothing.
Vitalia spoke to him in the Shadow tongue. He answered, and she looked back to Norah. “He says there’s no man that works in the gardens by that name.”
Norah shook her head, her brows drawing together. “That’s not right. He was here yesterday. He said he’s here every day.”
Vitalia spoke to the man again, and then she looked at Norah with her lips pursed and shook her head.
Something wasn’t right. Norah turned to Sonal. “Where’s the man who was here yesterday?”
Sonal gave a frown and then shook his head. “I don’t remember what he looked like.”
Her eyes narrowed. Liar. “You know exactly what he looked like,” she countered, a weight growing in her stomach. “His name was Bremhad. Has something happened to him?”
Sonal shrugged. “I don’t remember him.”
Anger crept across her skin. But what could she do here? She turned and strode back toward the castle. She needed to find him.
Behind closed doors and away from her guard, Norah paced the room.
“Do you think they did something?” she asked her maid. “Do you think something’s happened to him?”
“Don’t you see?” Vitalia whispered. “The lord commander sends you a message.”
A lump rose in her throat. That was exactly the kind of message the lord commander would send. “Do you think Bremhad is all right?”
“I don’t know, but if the lord commander was involved…” Her words trailed off.
Norah’s heart raced. This was her fault. She had to help him. “Where would they take him? What would they do?”
Vitalia shook her head. “I don’t know. Will you go to Salar?”
“I can’t go to him on suspicion alone. He already thinks I judge the commander too hastily. And the brute would deny it.” Then Bremhad might disappear forever.
“I have many friends in the castle, Your Majesty. I can try to find out what happened.”
Norah prayed she could.
Chapter forty-one
“Please don’t be angry,” Vitalia said in a hushed voice. The setting sun cast long shadows across the hall as they walked.
“Why would I be angry?” Norah followed her maid toward her sanctuary. She hadn’t visited it since Mikael had given it to her. It was for when she wanted to be alone, and to be left alone, he’d told her. Aside from her suffocating guard, she hadn’t felt that way.
Vitalia didn’t answer.
Had she found out what had happened to Bremhad? Norah didn’t dare ask within earshot of her guard, who’d likely helped in whatever devious plan the commander had.
The guard stopped at the end of the hall, as they weren’t permitted within it, and Norah and her maid continued to the sanctuary. Vitalia’s breath came faster now, nervously. It made Norah’s quicken as well. What news did she have?
They stepped inside, and Vitalia closed the door behind them.
Norah couldn’t wait any longer. “Did you find out what happened to Bremhad?”
Vitalia clenched her hands, wringing them nervously. Then her eyes darted over Norah’s shoulder. Norah turned, and she startled at the man standing in the doorway of the side bath chamber.
“Who are you?” she demanded of the man. “What are you doing here?” No one was allowed in the sanctuary.
“It’s Kiran, Your Majesty,” Vitalia said quickly. “I brought him. I’m sorry. This is the only place I could think of that was private enough.”
Norah hadn’t recognized the guard without his head wrap; she’d only ever seen his eyes. She looked closer. Yes, she knew those eyes. They were kind eyes. But now, troubled.
He was different from how she’d imagined him. Older—perhaps a couple years older than she was. A trenched scar ran from just under the inside of his right eye and down over his cheek to his jaw. A second scar claimed the space over his left eye and channeled back into his shoulder-length black hair that was tied from behind. Perhaps they’d been from the same injury. Unlucky. Or lucky, depending on how one looked at the situation.
“Bremhad is his father,” Vitalia said.
Norah let out a breath. She saw it now—the resemblance.
Kiran shifted uneasily, the muscle tightening underneath his inked skin. This was a secret—a secret he protected.
“Bremhad has been thrown in the dungeon,” her maid added.
“There’s a dungeon?” As it rolled off her lips, she knew it was a stupid question. Even Mercia had a dungeon.
Kindly, Vitalia only nodded. “Kiran’s planning to break him out.”
He shot her maid an angry glare. “You said you wouldn’t tell her that.”
“You can trust her,” her maid pressed.
Norah gaped at him. “Break him out of the dungeon? You can’t do that.”
“I’m a warrior of the Crest. I can.” His courtesies were gone. But she didn’t fault him. Anger and fear drove him now. And he was right, he probably could get his father out, with some planning. He was an elite member of the Crest, skilled beyond any prison guard.
“No, Kiran, listen to me. This isn’t the way. If you break him out, you won’t be able to stay here. You’ll have to leave, to flee. You’ll both be hunted.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do nothing. And once they know he’s my father, they’ll know my papers are fake. I’ll be thrown in there with him.”
She quieted as her mind raced. He’d faked his status to be eligible for the army. She clutched her own hands. This complicated things. “Regardless, you can’t break him out.”
How quickly the kindness in his eyes changed to aggression. “I won’t let him die down there because he made a mistake.”
Confusion filled her. “What mistake?”
Kiran hesitated, then he said, “Speaking to you in the Northern tongue.”
“Why would that be a mistake?” She knew the answer before she’d even finished the question. She scoffed in frustration. “Because the commander wants me to think that only a few can understand me. Better to spy on me, I see.”
Kiran didn’t confirm it. But he didn’t deny it.
“Let me take care of this,” she said. “I’ll have your father released.”
Kiran straightened, but he cast his gaze to the side with his lips tight and drew in a cynical breath.
“Do you not believe me?”
He looked back at her. “I believe you’ll try.” He didn’t think she could.
“Kiran, please. Let me help you before you do something rash. Do you not love your life here?”
“I love my father more,” he said.
Emotion swelled within her. Had she loved her own father this strongly? She reached out and clasped his arm. “Kiran, please. I promise you I’ll get him out.”
The silence was long and agonizing. But Kiran sighed, relenting. He gave a short nod.
She pursed her lips into a reassuring smile.
“Wait until we’ve gone,” Vitalia told him. “We’ll take the guard with us, and you can leave unseen.”
He gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
Morning couldn’t come soon enough. Captain Artem had been on a task outside the city, and Norah had to wait for his return. Her stomach twisted at the thought of having to talk to him, but she didn’t dare take the matter to the commander. She’d never see Bremhad again.
She strode toward the stables with her guard close behind. Kiran was among them. Her heart hurt for him. Surely it was all he could do to act unaffected, as no one knew Bremhad was his father. His nearness didn’t help her own anxiousness.
She found Artem walking out just as she was approaching. He held his helm under his arm and his gloves neatly in his hand. Her brow stitched down. He didn’t even appear to have traveled; his armor was still clean.
“North Queen,” he greeted.
But she didn’t care for his greeting, and she didn’t care to offer one back. “You’ll release the greenskeeper,” she said firmly.
The captain of the Crest frowned. “I’m not sure what greenskeeper you speak of.”
Were they all liars? “The greenskeeper that was with me when you harassed me in the gardens with the lord commander,” she said shortly. “The greenskeeper that’s been thrown in the dungeon. I want him released. Now.”
He gave a dip of his brow, feigning concern. “I’m not familiar with the situation, but even so, only the lord commander or salar can grant pardon.”
“Pardon?” she asked angrily. “He’s done nothing wrong! What’s his crime?”
He shook his head, frowning through the cruel smile underneath. “As I said, I’m not familiar with the situation. You should talk to the lord commander.”
Yes, rely on the man who’d caused her grievance to fix her grievance. Hardly.
“I think I’ll talk to the king,” she replied sharply.
“As you wish.”
Norah hated this man just as much as the lord commander. She cursed herself. They were probably the best of friends. She gritted her teeth and breathed deep to keep herself calm, then spun on her heel, heading back toward the castle.
The morning was still early. She’d find Mikael before breakfast—before Artem could tell the commander what she was trying to do. She cursed herself for not going straight to Mikael, but Artem was a captain, and she was queen. Even if not the queen of the Shadowlands yet, she expected his compliance. She would be his queen. And she fully rejected the idea he couldn’t free Bremhad.
She hated the idea of going to Mikael. He already felt she was too biased against his commander, and she was bringing yet another grievance. And she was queen in her own right—it diminished her authority. But she’d do it for Bremhad. Time was of the essence. She’d sort the rest out later.
Norah found the king stepping out of his study. “North Queen,” he greeted when he saw her. “This is a surprise.”
“I have a pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”
His brow creased, and he gave her a small nod. “Of course.”
“The greenskeeper,” she said.
His brow creased further. “The greenskeeper?”
“Yes, the greenskeeper, the old man I was planting flowers with in the garden. The lord commander put him in your dungeon. I want him released.”
“The greenskeeper?” he asked again.
She resisted the urge to tell him to pay attention. Now she felt like Catherine.
“What’s he done?” he asked.
“He talked to me in Northern tongue. Tell me, is that a crime?”
The line of his mouth thinned. “Of course it’s not.”
“The commander—”
“The lord commander wouldn’t condemn a man for no reason.”
Norah scoffed. “The lord commander would knife a man for breathing.”
Mikael stopped and stiffened, and the pools of his eyes grew darker. She wasn’t winning him over to her cause—she needed a different approach. As much as she hated to appeal to his mercy, she would. For Bremhad and for Kiran.
She put her hand on his arm. “Mikael, please. He’s my friend.”
“A greenskeeper is your friend?”
She drew in a breath as she collected herself; cheekiness and sarcasm wouldn’t help her now. “I enjoy the garden here. It’s a place in which I hope to spend more time. Will you not have him released? He’s done nothing wrong.” Norah held her breath. He’d given her a horse worth losing an alliance. Would he not give her a greenskeeper?
He sighed. “I’ll see that there’s no greenskeeper in my dungeon.”
It wasn’t exactly complete assurance, but she couldn’t push him more. She gave his arm a warm squeeze. “Thank you.” She glanced down the way toward the dining hall. “Are you going to breakfast?”
“No. I’m headed to Basrah, just west. I’ll be back tonight.”
She hated that he was leaving again, but she nodded. “I’ll see you when you return.”
By evening, Bremhad had still not arrived home, and Norah felt a pit growing in her stomach. Why was it taking so long to release him? Was he even going to be released? Perhaps Mikael hadn’t addressed it with the commander before he’d left.
He said he’d address it, she told herself. She should trust him to do so. But the truth was, Mikael held the lord commander with a long leash, if with a leash at all. The brute had told her there was nothing he could do that the king wouldn’t forgive. And she believed him.
Mikael hadn’t returned by dinner, and Norah took her meal in her chamber. Her worry grew as she ate. What if she had been wrong? What if she couldn’t get Bremhad out?
Chapter forty-two
“Your Majesty!” Vitalia’s excited voice woke Norah from her sleep. She sat up quickly, not sure if she’d slept at all. She’d been restless much of the night. “Was Bremhad released?” she asked before her awareness had even come to her.
Vitalia paused, shaking her head. “I haven’t heard, Your Majesty, but you’ll want to rise quickly. Northmen have arrived!”
Vitalia’s words woke her instantly. “Northmen?” Her heart leapt.
“Soldiers,” her maid explained. “They say they’re part of the Mercian royal guard. They’ve come to be in your service. The man that speaks for them, his name is Titus.”
