Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

Av walked up to Aren’s rooms as a lord left looking ashen-faced. As Av stared after the man, the door to the rooms closed. He turned back, meaning to protest verbally that he had been standing right there, but Wena was standing just outside the door.

“I think the throne is speaking through her,” the woman said quietly. “She just told that man that she would kill an innocent boy if he does not do everything in his power to reunite the East with palace lands.”

“But if she commands someone be killed, I’m the one who has to do it,” Av protested.

“I am aware of that, but does that sound like something your lady would threaten?”

“No, it sounds more like someone who is fed up with everyone making excuses,” he murmured.

“What’s that?”

Av looked down at his hand, having forgotten all about it. A bunch of flowers. He didn’t know if they looked nice together or if they were pretty, but they were the only things blooming at that time of year. Danya had helped him with the flowers, coaxing a few buds into bloom so that he had something to give Aren.

He glanced down the hallway, wondering if the gardeners had grown wise as to what he had done yet.

“For Aren?” Wena asked.

“They are, yes,” he said.

“I will take them to her.”

“No, I brought them for her, I will give them to her,” he said gruffly.

“I don’t think you heard me, about her state.”

“What’s her…” He trailed off as his mind made the leaping conclusion. “The throne only talks through the one that sits it when they’re not quite there, as in drunk.”

“I gave her a tea.”

“A magic tea?” There were only two reasons the healers would imbue herbs with magic. One to lessen pain, the other to prevent an accident.

But the healers rarely made the latter tea for anyone besides their own rank.

“Yes, a magic tea.”

Av grimaced. “I probably should have thought of that before, but it was the furthest from my mind. Aren is susceptible to magic.”

“Oh dear,” Wena said, paling slightly. The woman gave herself a shake after a moment. “No matter—it simply means she needs very little in the way of the tea. Though she had very little to begin with.”

“May I at least see her?” he asked.

“I suppose, but if she threatens to cripple you, do not attempt to blame me. I’ve given you fair warning. And no starting a fight over her condition either. Again, I’ve given you fair warning as to her temperament this afternoon.”

“I understand,” he sighed. The woman simply glared at him. “I also understand that if I attempt to start a fight you will find someplace on my person to place these flowers.”

“Well, I do believe we’ve reached an agreement we can both concede to. This way.”

He followed her into the rooms, close behind, but not so close that when she came to a sudden stop he ran into her. She moved around him and closed the door, then moved silently to the hearth.

The room was warmer than the rest of the palace, warmer than it had been the last time he had visited. Yet Aren was still wrapped in a blanket as she sat before the fire. She almost looked content, but there was a wariness as he approached. He couldn’t help but wonder why she still looked so uneasy.

Then the moment passed and she smiled weakly at him.

“Come to threaten and prod me into bed?”

“No, I brought you flowers,” he said, holding the flowers out.

Aren stared at them dimly, probably not quite aware what they were. There was a dopey look to her eyes as she smiled again. The throne was not working its way through her. This was just Aren with a bit too much healer magic easing her pain.

“But perhaps I might suggest just one nap,” he said cautiously. “Obviously the tea was too strong for you.”

“I think you may be right,” she said and groaned before she slid sideways and down in the seat. Curled around herself, she pulled a pillow from down the side of the chair and dropped her head onto it with a small moan.

“When you awake, hopefully the effects will be all but gone,” he said.

Av turned and handed a startled Wena the flowers. She looked at them, then frowned up at him, questioning him silently. He put a finger to his lips. Aren was likely almost asleep as it was.

Turning back, he reached under the queen as she groaned. Aren stirred, but did not wake as Av picked her up and carried her to the bed. She turned into his arms when he tried to set her down, but he didn’t give in to the desire to climb into the bed beside her. She had laid down the rules and he would abide by them.

For now.

He left the bed and found Wena by the door. The flowers were already in a vase and looked as if they had been carefully selected. She had rearranged them to look prettier.

Wena ushered him out of the rooms and closed the door behind the two of them.

“Her magic is flowing across the palace, as a queen’s magic tends to do when given this sort of tea,” Wena said quickly. “Lords and ladies used to bother Em at this time because they knew they could more easily get their way. She’d never recall what she had said, once all was said and done.”

“Aren will be fine.”

“Lord Av, I am trying to hint at something,” Wena said sternly.

“And you should know that your lady doesn’t appreciate hinting at things.”

“As someone who spent a great deal of time at court, I would think that you would know this,” she responded.

“Yet I have no idea how, or if I’m even able, to ask for a formal audience with Aren.”

“What do you want a formal audience for?” Wena demanded.

“I don’t know. To talk?”

“Oh, you want to socialize with her? Give her three days and then come visit after lunch. You can walk her through the gardens if it is nice out, and if it is raining you may walk her to the treasury room and look through the ancient treasures. Maybe something will catch her eye.”

“Do all queens just—”

“Yes, even your mother. They like to add the art pieces from there, to their rooms. It comforts them. Or so Lady Telm tells me.”

“Good, I’ll come back in three days.” Av turned to leave, but the woman grabbed his arm.

When he turned back, Wena shifted back and away from him. Suddenly skittish. Av had to wonder why touching him would make her skitter back like that.

“What I was trying to say before was that the lords and ladies, despite this being the queen’s rooms, have been bothering to see Lady Aren since her return. I managed excuses, but once she started training and word got around, they are demanding and even threatening me. Once they realize why the ladies and the servants are on that edge, there will be no stopping them.”

“You didn’t want me out here because you think Aren should rest?” he asked, surprised.

“Goodness no, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop her from going to training tomorrow morning, and I don’t blame her. Movement makes it easier, it’s just getting moving that hurts. No… I don’t feel those at court respect my position, let alone Lady Aren’s privacy. I cannot, by law, deny any of them entrance if Lady Aren is willing to be up and about, but I know she is not willing to listen to another lord drivel on about how dare she threaten to cut off his lights because he pays so much in taxes.”

“Which one said that?”

“Lord Baffer.”

“I’ll be sure to make my stance clear.”

Wena winced.

“What?” he asked.

“Until she’s mated, by law, no warrior is able to deny a lord the right to see her. Nor is he able to question why anyone at court wishes to see her because by law she must be open to any and all audiences that are important.”

“You want me to do the scary, angry warrior looking-for-a-fight thing, don’t you?”

Wena nodded quickly. “With what happened in the hallway and with the servant, they should be sufficiently scared to stay away. It will alert the ranks, who may try something, but you can either explain to them, or mash their faces into something. That is the current fashion of threat, is it not?”

“It is, mashing a face into something sounds amusing and yet unpleasant at the same time,” he said. “What will you tell Aren about the sudden quiet?”

“I will tell her that if one more lord attempts to take entrance, I will become violent. Perhaps she and I can use the time to speak of boundaries. I haven’t known her long enough to know what I should do, or whether she would protect or help me.”

“I think she would help you. She likes you, Wena.”

The woman blushed. She was silent a while before she met his eyes.

“There is one other thing you could do, but not for a few days,” she said quietly, shifting even farther away from him. “You could go to court and ask for a date for her mating ceremony. Lady Mar and Lady Telm have had all winter to think about it, but both appear to be quite busy and have forgotten that the ceremony must have an approved date so that the lords have time to get their clothing freshened up, or created, as the case may be.”

“Who needs brand new clothing for a mating ceremony?”

“For the one who sits the throne?” Wena asked. “Any items purchased through the trades room places coin in the treasury for the palace's benefit. We want them to spend their coin here and give them time to think about it and gossip amongst themselves and spend more.”

“But what if they purchase something more impressive than what Aren will be wearing?” he whined out.

“You wait until after the ceremony and rip it up,” Wena said with a shrug and a headshake. “You wouldn't be the first warrior to bring a competitor down a peg or two.”