The Queen Revealed (16 page)

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Authors: A. R. Winterstaar

BOOK: The Queen Revealed
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Chapter Twenty-Four

“The Price of a Dark Past”

Rainere was not surprised by his intruder. He had been aware that he was being followed as he walked through the East Wing from the Clinic, but he was impressed that the would-be thief had made it to a dark corner of his private chamber so fast. Rainere had only taken enough of The Gift to make himself feel whole again, as he had been reluctant to do more than heal his injuries. Still, he was confident that he wouldn’t get much of a fight from his stealthy visitor.

As he sat at his desk, the Prince mixed a softly glowing potion together from the myriad of tiny bottles that sat in wire frames before him, neatly pouring a little from each into a glass tube. He waited until he heard a slight intake of breath from his intruder before speaking.

“I applaud your efforts,” he said and almost smiled at the shocked silence. “To break into the Grey Palace is no small achievement. One must have a certain control of one’s own dark Magic as well as a level of stupidity that is hard to come by. Why, just to brave the Sleeping Guards lining my hallways alone is quite remarkable.”

“I didn’t see any guards, Your Highness.” The voice was young, but Rainere could feel the smirk from across the room. The Prince enjoyed his moment.

“I didn’t mean Human guards, boy. Don’t you know anything about your heritage?” Rainere turned to face the corner where his intruder had hidden in the shadows. “Thieves don’t break into the Grey Palace because they
can’t
but because they don’t
dare
to.”

He let the silence deepen for a moment.

“You bravely walked through at least six different curses just getting to this chamber. No doubt you are already feeling the effects.” Rainere paused, a finger in the air, and listened to the silence. “I think I can almost hear your heartbeat slowing. And now… now I imagine the sweat is leeching out of your body as a worsening lethargy weighs down your limbs. You might know that these are all classic symptoms of the Human body gradually petrifying.”

The Prince sat back in his chair, hands entwined, a finger to his lips to watch as his intruder staggered from the shadows. Only a raised eyebrow indicated his surprise at the boy’s youth.

“Please,” gasped Charlie, falling to his knees. “Help me!”

“Why?” The Prince watched the boy with a gaze that was as intense as it was dark.

“I’m…we have a…friend.” Charlie’s hand clutched at his throat and he could only manage to choke out the words his panicked brain was feeding him.

“Who?” asked Rainere, surprised again, despite himself. There was no one whom he called “friend.” Rainere’s eyes studied the boy, looking for a sense of familiarity, but he only saw a brown-haired street urchin, half-starved and filthy, now slowly dying on his bedroom floor.

Charlie’s arms clutched his chest in a futile attempt to stop the creeping pain crushing his lungs. Then he lay perfectly still. “The Queen,” he whispered through his stiff jaw. “Message… you.”

Prince Rainere pushed himself up and out of his chair. He walked over to the boy and dropped to his knees beside him. He slipped a hand under the boy’s head and held the small vial of glowing liquid to his cold lips.

“If you are lying, child,” Rainere’s voice was a low growl. “The pain you are in now will feel like a mother’s embrace in comparison to what I can do to you later.”

The boy couldn’t talk at all, but Rainere read the desperation and rage in his expression. He saw a ring of silver flash and spin around his pupils as the boy fought the Magic with all his strength.

The Prince poured the liquid between the boy’s parted lips and was careful not to spill a drop. He waited a moment to make sure the potion had slid down his victim’s throat before laying the boy’s head back on the cold stone floor. He rose and walked to the window to examine the early twilight stars and wait for the antidote to work. It wouldn’t take long and Rainere had important things to think about.

Adelena had written to him! Rainere allowed himself one bright minute of hope trying to guess the contents of the letter.

Maybe she was writing to tell him she was on her way back to him, so he would not have to make the journey himself to Belvoir and risk his Immortal life in the process? Or maybe that she had organized a priest and they could be married soon? But of course, that would be too much to hope for. She had no idea how to do such a thing, so he would have to do it for them.

Suddenly, Rainere felt the weight of his responsibility to Adelena press heavily on his shoulders. She was so innocent of the danger that lay in wait for her in the Dark Forest. In five days, the Spider Empress would demand her marriage to Rainere and she would have to relinquish control of her Kingdom to him. For the sake of their love, Rainere was determined to ensure that Adelena would trust him enough to give him everything, and that she knew it would be for the best for both of them, as well as her beautiful children. After their last incredible night together, when he had laid himself open to her and she had taken everything from him that he could give, Rainere just couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t trust the love between them. He had let her drink the power from his very soul, and he had heard the voice of the Goddess Serena as she urged him to give every ounce of himself to the woman he loved with all his heart.

Adelena must want to see him now. She had to be suffering as much as he was without her by his side and in his bed. To be without her was an agony that only the boy on the floor could sympathize with.

Behind him, Rainere could hear the gasping and coughing which meant the boy could breathe normally again. He turned and looked down at his intruder. His poverty was obvious. Certainly he wasn’t an official St. Lucidis messenger, which could only mean that he wasn’t here on official Royal business. Adelena was still keeping their relationship a secret.

Prince Rainere’s doubts resurfaced like a punch to the stomach. His voice was hoarse with disappointment when he spoke. “What is her message?”

Charlie could feel all the blood rushing about his recently frozen limbs. The pain and itch of it was excruciating. He struggled to his knees and risked a glance up at the Prince.

The hollow eyed man before him was so much more dangerous than he had been told, and that bloody Queen hadn’t mentioned a word about the traps laid in the Grey Palace. Mind you, she was operating under the mistaken belief that he already worked for the Prince so that was probably why…but still,
damn
! Charlie sensed the Prince’s growing impatience with how slowly he was moving, but it took a minute before his brain could convince his hand to work again. With numb fingers he managed to free the little envelope from beneath his shirt.

“Here,” he croaked, holding it up and recoiled as the Prince’s long white hand reached out to snatch the letter.

The Prince broke the purple wax seal and breathed in the fragrance of the scented paper, hesitating a moment before unfolding it. Charlie watched as the Prince’s eyes read and re-read the letter. When the Prince flicked the paper over to check the back of it, Charlie flinched so hard he fell over onto his side, his nerves stretching a little tighter at the Prince’s obvious displeasure with the note.

Suck a cat’s tit!
Charlie swore silently as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and surreptitiously scanned the room for an escape or a weapon of some kind. He still had his knife up his sleeve, but he didn’t quite trust his hands to maneuver the narrow blade just yet.
What the hell is so important that she had to send me all the way here just to piss off the Black Prince? Doesn’t she know he is insane?

Charlie cursed his bad fortune. He thought of the Queen’s kind eyes and how he had decided to trust her, just a little bit. If he could remain in her good graces, he had a chance to find the object The Boss had sent him to steal from her. But deciding to do that had put him in an even worse situation... just another one of his mistakes in the long line of them that had been his life up until this painful point.

“Is this it?” the Prince almost hissed, eyes narrowed. He looked as though he was accusing Charlie of holding back something. “No word? No spoken message?”

Charlie swallowed on his dry throat and managed to shake his head. He fought the urge to pee himself as the Prince took a step nearer to him.

The Prince ran his hands through his long hair and closed his eyes. He looked as though he was making a mighty attempt to control his temper. Charlie didn’t dare to breathe in case he disturbed him. Suddenly, the Prince’s eyes snapped open and he cursed so graphically it made Charlie blink. Impressed, despite himself, Charlie tucked the phrase away in his memory in case he survived long enough to use it later.

Prince Rainere took another step toward Charlie and grasped his chin in his hand. He moved Charlie’s face back and forth, examining the light in his eyes.

“You have a lot of The Blood in you, boy,” he growled but his tone was more analytical than angry. “Where did she find you? At the Belvoir Estate I suppose? It’s a veritable nest of bastards and ill-breeding there.”

He dropped Charlie’s chin and wiped his hand on his leg, as if to clean off some impurity he might have picked up from the contact.

“I have a return message for the Queen,” said the Prince as he slowly tore the Queen’s letter into four pieces and watched as they fluttered to the floor. He seemed calm, but the hairs on the back of Charlie’s neck stood up at the restrained violence of the gesture.
Holy Hell!
“But it won’t be a letter and you must deliver it to her hand only. Am I clear?”

Charlie could only nod.

The Prince left the room then, stalking out and slamming the door so hard, it made the windows rattle. Finally alone, Charlie dropped to his back on the floor and groaned. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t even name all the places that hurt.
That cat-tit-sucking arsehole of a Black Prince will pay for what he’s done to me!
He swore as he let the fury and frustration flow through him, hoping the energy would strengthen his feeble limbs. But despite his best efforts, it took Charlie long minutes before he was able to stand on his own two feet again.

“Sleeping Guards, my sweet arse,” Charlie grumbled to himself, stretching out his sore back and neck.

He looked properly around the room for the first time. The air was chill as the large fireplace had been left cold, and only green-flamed lanterns lit the shadows. The room was tidy, but most of the furniture was battered and shabby. There was a great crater in the stone ceiling above the bed, as if made by a mini explosion.

Charlie jumped as he caught sight of a figure in a mirror by the dressing table. It took him a moment to recognize himself in the white-faced boy who stared back. His clothes were dark with sweat from his ordeal and his hair stood to attention in patches all over his head. The daylong ride to the Grey Palace had left him exhausted and filthy, never mind almost being turned to stone. He thought longingly of his knapsack with its clean Carparell uniform hidden behind the Grey Palace stables with his horse. At least with that he could get back into the Belvoir Manor without much trouble.

But if this is working for Royalty they can forget it!
thought Charlie bitterly, trying without much success to smooth down his hair.
I’m not doing another thing for the witch Queen after tonight. I’ll just take this thing, or whatever it is, back to her from the Prince and then I’m gone.

But even as he thought it Charlie’s practical side came to the fore. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done dangerous work before, and at least this time he was sure his employer was good for the money. He felt under his shirt where he had secreted the gold bracelet the Queen had given him. It was a hell of a lot more than The Boss had ever handed over to him. Charlie’s bowels cramped a little when he thought of what The Boss would do to him when he returned without the object.

Charlie tried to work out his sore muscles with some stretches, but only succeeded in hurting himself more. He limped over to sit on the lone armchair by the fireplace, wishing there was a fire there to warm his damp clothes. He sighed loudly and, for company, counted his miseries one by one.

The spell Charlie had been entrusted with by The Boss was very rare and very expensive. He had only had one chance to find the object of his boss’s desire and yet the spell had only found a dirty travelling cloak. It would have been easier if Charlie had been told what the object looked like, but The Boss gave out information like a miser did coins, that is to say little or none at all. Charlie had been working for the mysterious Boss on and off for several years but all he could say about him was that he was a young man, educated by his accent, and crazy as a cut snake. The Boss always wore a long hooded cloak and a black silk scarf across the lower half of his face to disguise himself, but Charlie wasn’t laughing at the get up. It wasn’t just the dangerous work that The Boss demanded that set him apart from the other bosses in the Underworld of Concordis. When The Boss called, you came. When The Boss asked, you did.

Charlie had seen what had happened to another kid who hadn’t answered The Boss’s call. Ellery had been strong too, The Blood showed up clear in his eyes, and he knew how to use his Magic. But The Boss was stronger and Charlie had never forgotten the sight of his friend lying naked in the gutter, strangled by his own entrails, his hands tied behind his back with a black silk scarf.

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