The Queen Revealed (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

“And Look How it Burns”

Prince Rainere was vibrating. Literally. The power of the portal in front of him was throwing off so much radiation, that he almost couldn’t stand it. He put a hand on the neck of his horse, Titor, who stood beside him and steadied himself. The beast had closed its eyes to the brightly shining portal, but that was the only discomfort it showed at being so close to it.

“Three days, Master,” Grotto was saying. “That is all we have until the next full moon. Three short days to get the marriage ceremony underway and your ascension completed before Empress Ka-kik requires you to bring the Queen before her. You must not dally in Belvoir, but bring her back to the Grey Palace immediately. I got a message to the priest to join us before the sun sets today…”

Rainere didn’t bother to concentrate too closely on what Grotto was saying. He had heard it a hundred times by now. Instead, he flexed his hands into fists and felt a jolt as the power of the Gift surged through him in an intoxicating stream. Grotto had convinced him to take in as much of the Gift as he could the second time, not only to heal after Adele had depleted him, but also to give him the strength to suffer the absence of the Immortality Curse when he stepped onto Belvoir lands again. His little experiment crossing the portal with that urchin messenger had let him know how weak he would become when it had taken a huge effort just to keep on his feet as all the Magic had dropped away from his body. He would need all the strength he could get to last an entire day, and possibly a night, without his Magic.

Rainere examined the portal before him for faults. He’d had to work hard to make it big enough to fit Titor and he still wasn’t sure that it would be able to maintain its integrity as such a large creature passed through it. The spell he had used was from the time of the last great war when portals had been used to move huge warships across the lands of Unisia, and he wasn’t sure he’d read it correctly. He gave one of the seams a cautious poke and it made an angry fizzing noise. Rainere shrugged mentally, it mattered not. He would use the portal regardless of any danger. Adelena was waiting for him on the other side and the two days they had been apart had been agony. He refused to be away from her any longer, even if he had to walk to Belvoir from here himself.

His heart ached in his chest and adrenalin skittered through his blood at the thought of her. Ever since their last night together when she had ripped into him so deeply and he had heard the voice of the Goddess whispering words of love to him, Rainere had felt like a different man. He had agreed to imbibe the Gift with a recklessness that had never been his way, soaking it up until his blood was saturated with power. He never once thought of the cost involved as he had always done, but instead only thought of the carnal pleasure it would give Adelena to drink this much power from him when they next lay together. The memory of Adelena’s gasps whispered in his ears, making him shiver and roll his shoulders.

Grotto touched his arm lightly. “Please, Master. Be careful. There will be no wizards at the Carnival but the Queen will still have her Guard to protect her.”

Rainere laughed and the sound was slightly crazed, even to his own ears. “What will they protect her from, Grotto? I’m just a humble man over there.” He chuckled again and the sound reverberated around the deep caverns and tunnels of the Portal Station under the palace. The surrounding archways of other portals, dead from disuse, gaped darkly and returned his laughter back to him in echoes.

“Master,” whispered Grotto and his voice was infused with all the worry and hope that was contained in his old frame. “Just please, bring her back.”

Rainere gave his old manservant a nod and pulled his jacket down firmly. It was old and the fit was slightly too small for him, but it was important that he wear the proper racing attire at the Carnival. Rainere gave the portal another once over. If only he had had Schiss here to test it for him, but the little man-Spider had not been be seen for days.

The Prince firmly grasped the bridle of his horse. The drunken giddiness that threatened to overwhelm him finally passed and he took a step toward the glittering portal, green sparks showering him already. He stepped through, pulling Titor by his side, and was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Running Out of Time”

A dry breeze danced through the banners and flags of the pavilions surrounding the racecourse, chasing up puffs of fine dust and drying out throats. The green canvas walls of Prince Bertrand’s pavilion snapped and cracked in the breeze, making the children’s puppies bark and whine.

“Do you think this wind is going to have much of an effect on the horses, Bertie?” asked Pere Raven anxiously, his naked brow furrowed with concern.

Bertie grinned widely. “Only on that sorry lot of Carparells!” he cackled and stuck his finger in the air. “Ah-ha, it’s the North Wind! The North Wind always favors the strong. We are champions for sure my poppets. Err… may the best house win, Your Majesty,” said Bertie in a nod to Adele’s St. Lucidis heritage. She waved away his insincere words, and searched the crowd of racers for the huge, black charger and its rider. Adele shifted in her seat and took a sip of water. The temperature had climbed after lunch bleaching the blue sky and dissolving the clouds. Adele was so hot she could hardly breathe in her pretty, but very tight, bodice.

Natalie and Aaron cheered along with all the other Belvoir children in the Royal Pavilion as the horses and their riders assembled in the starting gates. Adele heard the murmurs of her Queen’s Guard swapping bets from where they stood in a line behind her. The Marchant Prince had only brought one horse with him and his doubtful success on running an untried animal was the cause of much excitement. Only the General was silent and Adele could swear she felt him watching her every reaction to Rainere being on the course. He had remained no more than a few feet away from her the minute the Prince had materialized a yard from the boundary of the Belvoir Estate and been welcomed to cross is an inordinately complicated ceremony involving prayers to the Goddess, sprinkling of some sort of holy water, and of course, the spilling of blood, a few drops of Rainere’s and Bertie’s combined. Rainere had remained cool and aloof but Adele had been a sweaty mess of desire by the time it was all over. Rainere was wearing a jacket so tight she could see almost every muscle of his arms and back deliciously outlined.  The only proof she had of his own internal conflict was the slight tremor that shuddered through him when she took his hand to ceremoniously pull him over the boundary between Marchant lands and the Belvoir Estate.

“Look, there he is, Your Majesty!” squealed Lady Olivia in excitement as Prince Rainere and Titor rode into their starting gate. The tall black horse walking steadily and not showing any of the skittishness of the other mounts as their riders struggled to get them into their own gates. Adele felt a moment of pride that even Rainere’s horse was as exceptional as the man who rode him.

“My, doesn’t he look handsome in his black velvet,” sighed Lady Olivia, and giggled at the sharp look that Natalie gave her. “Never mind Princess Natalie, I’m sure the Prince would choose you over me any day!”

Adele forced a smile, but her stomach was flip-flopping uncomfortably and she prayed hard that she wouldn’t need to be sick during the race. A rush of desire licked through her veins when she caught sight of Rainere through the bars of the starting gate. She was sure that he was looking at her up on the stage of the pavilion, but an answering roll of nausea soon swamped her stomach again and filled her mouth with sour water, forcing her to look away.

Once the riders had assembled, there was a moment of unnatural silence, as thousands of people held their breath. A loud crack, like a gunshot, rocked out over the crowd and the horses were off. The noise of the crowd was like the sound of an ocean swell, but it faded into quiet as Adele watched Rainere and Titor leap out of the starting gate. They had started a few lengths behind the leader, Blue Streak, with Golden Pride running forward to claim the second place, and remained in the middle of the pack for the first straight and going into the bend. But as the pack rounded the bend and headed down the second straight Titor pulled away, seeming to leap over and above the other horses in his way. Rainere lay low against his mount, his chin down and the black ribbons of his saddle streaming out behind him. The crowd went wild as the Marchant team leaped into the lead, taking the second bend and streaking down the last straight, heading to the finish line.

When Titor crossed the finish line he was in front of the pack by at least three lengths and dashed away as if the race would continue on. Adele watched as Rainere fought to pull his mount under control, eventually slowing the creature and heading back to the finish where the last horses were still crossing the line. He was sitting up tall in the saddle and had thrown back his head, laughing. Adele smiled and tears sprang to her eyes when she saw the entire crowd cheering and calling for Rainere, chants of “Mar-chant! Mar-chant!” filling the air down near the fences. Rainere looked over at her from the course and raised a hand in salute. Adele waved back.

“He won! Prince Rainere won Mummy!” Natalie was as happy as Adele felt, but for a different reason.

If this is how Rainere is received at the Carnival maybe it won’t be so bad for him at the Court of the Golden Palace next time,
she thought hopefully.
If he can find acceptance here, then…
Her positive thoughts trailed away when she turned and caught the eye of General Ohrig. His blue eyes bore into hers and his mouth was set in a grim line. Adele straightened her shoulders. He could stare all he liked, but the General lived with a prejudice against Marchants that Adele would never share. In fact, perhaps it was time he learnt to move on, embrace the new world, and get the hell off her back.

Adele turned her attention to her right and the morose Prince Bertie. Adele thought it was the saddest she had ever seen him and she patted him sympathetically on the arm. It seemed ridiculous to her that the outcome of a five-minute race could be so important to him, but she squashed her smile and tried to look downcast when Bertie took her arm and commiserated with her over Golden Pride’s third-place position. Blue Streak had come in second, but obviously that meant little more than an outright loss to Bertie.

Tilburn interrupted them as he swept by, arranging the stage for the winner’s awards. He handed Bertie the silver tray with the satin rosettes, but Bertie passed it on to Adele, and only pulled himself to his feet as the riders approached the pavilion. Adele fought not to roll her eyes at his petulance, but found it amusing nonetheless.

The Royal party descended the few steps down to the winner’s stage that had been built this very morning in front of the Royal Pavilion. The fresh wood had yet to dry out in the heat and the platform trembled as the children jumped about on it making Adele feel slightly seasick.

The winning three riders rode their horses to the front of the stage, pausing to bow to the Queen and Prince Bertrand before dismounting and handing their reins to waiting stewards. Adele found her vision swimming in and out of focus as Rainere climbed the stairs and stopped mere feet in front of her. She forced herself to breathe and wiped away the sweat running down her temple with a silk handkerchief. Her Magic sparked and surged within her, making her shake and need to hold Bertie’s arm to remain upright.

Rainere looked regal and dignified despite being covered in dust and smelling of horse sweat. He bowed respectfully and waited as Bertie and Adele presented the third place ribbons to the St. Lucidis rider and then the young female rider of Blue Streak.

“Really, Josie? Second place. You don’t think you could have pushed him harder?” muttered Bertie unkindly to the young woman who blushed furiously beneath her freckles, tears filling her brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness, Blue and I just couldn’t keep up…”

Bertie only grunted in reply.

“Prince Rainere, congratulations on your victory,” interrupted Adele as the Prince stepped forward to receive his ribbon. Bertie put his hand out to take the ribbon from Adele and pin it to Rainere’s chest.

“Yes, my heartfelt congratulations, Your Highness,” agreed Bertie dolefully. “It was a wonderful race and your Titor really was fantastic out there. Who would have thought, eh?”

Prince Rainere nodded and stepped back again. “Titor had a hard time taking the length back from Blue Streak, Your Highness, so I believe a certain amount of luck was involved in our win today,” he said graciously.

Bertie looked up hopefully. “You really think? There is a steeplechase this weekend, you know. Do you think you would be interested in running Titor in the woods? Perhaps he wouldn’t do as well without a pack to follow?”

“I couldn’t say, Your Highness, but it is very kind of you to invite us to race again. I’m sure we would find it a great challenge,” said Rainere and Adele could tell he was amused by the twitch at the side of his mouth.  She remembered what his lips felt like on her skin and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sighing.

Rainere turned to her and the sunlight hit his eyes, illuminating their deep velvet green. Desire rocketed through Adele’s already over heated body and her ears started ringing as her vision shrunk down to a pinpoint. “Your Majesty?”

Adele heard a female voice shriek, then the clatter of a falling tray and a baby’s cry before the world went dark and Adele was falling.