Long May She Reign(24)

“Oh, you did not like her?” Madeleine said. “I can tell by your expression. She was difficult to like, I suppose, if she did not want you to like her. But I would prefer to think everyone has something worthwhile in them, if only you take the chance to look.”

This was not what I’d expected from Madeleine Wolff, popular court figure and new heir. She seemed so . . . genuine. It didn’t fit, that someone at the center of court could be genuine, even kind, that she could actually like anyone, no matter how evil or how sweet.

But she could easily have been manipulating me. I couldn’t let myself be won over too easily. I needed to change the conversation, flip it back onto her. She was suspicious, a potential suspect in the murders, and I needed to take the opportunity to speak to her, not marvel at how elegant she was.

“It is strange to be back,” Madeleine continued, “after being away for so long. And to have everything changed—”

“You were away because you were unwell?” The words came out too fast, too blunt.

“Yes,” Madeleine said. If she noticed my rudeness, she was skilled enough to hide it. “For several months. The doctors thought the country air would do me good. And it did, I suppose. I had a lot of time to think, a lot of time to paint. It is a shame you do not enjoy it, Your Majesty. I find it so fulfilling. But it was lonely. Too much rest can be as damaging as not enough, don’t you agree? We have to have something to keep us busy.”

If she had been ill for months, she probably hadn’t left the palace to avoid the poison. And it was hard to believe she would have poisoned all her friends.

Her lips were very pink, like dewy rose petals. She looked like a queen. And that made her dangerous, even if she were innocent.

“Are you all right to be here?” I said. “If you weren’t well enough to attend the king’s birthday—”

“I was sorry to miss it. Perhaps I could have gone. But the doctor thought the stress of it would make me unwell again. Obviously he was mistaken—I feel perfectly all right. Perhaps it is the distraction of this grief. Or perhaps I really am getting better. Either way, I am glad to be back. I missed this city, and everyone here.” She paused, then shook her head, like she was shaking the words away.

“Were you alone, in the country?”

“My aunt was there. And the servants, of course. My aunt likes the peace of life in the country, but it did not suit me so well. I find I like to be around people, to see them, to get to know them. I must admit, I went against the doctor’s orders many times. When I felt well enough, I took many walks.”

“I thought doctors liked walks.”

“Not when they are to the villages to meet people. A country stroll, with the birds and the trees . . . that is ‘restoring,’ they say. But going to the village, or even a town, meeting with people, going to shops, going to chapels, talking to commoners, bringing them gifts and supplies . . . oh, that could never do. My aunt would not have liked it. But of course, my aunt did not know.” Her smile was decidedly mischievous now.

“Your aunt? Sten’s mother?”

“Oh, no,” she said. She glanced over at her cousin, who was now talking to Holt. “No, no my father’s youngest sister. She is only ten years older than Sten, you know. No, Sten’s parents both died, when he was quite young. He’s lived with my family ever since I was born. And then, when my mother and father passed away, my aunt took control of the estate, and he brought me to court, to keep me out of her hair. I suppose the estate is technically mine, but . . . my aunt loves running it, and she is welcome to it. I much prefer being here. And so does Sten, I think.”

“Does he? He never looks like he enjoys court that much.”

She laughed. “That’s just Sten. He’s not as serious when you get to know him, I promise.”

Of course not. King Jorgen would not have chosen a best friend who lacked a sense of humor.

She leaned closer. “Don’t look now, Your Majesty, but William Fitzroy is staring at you.”

I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder. Fitzroy still stood alone in his corner, eyebrows pulled together.

“I said don’t look,” Madeleine said. “He’s been watching us talk. I think you might have an admirer.”

She wouldn’t say that if she’d seen how he looked at me a few days ago. He was probably wishing we were alone so he could tell me exactly what he thought of me again. I sneaked another glance at him. He’d walked away.

“How are you coping?” Madeleine added, in a lower voice. “With being queen. It must have been quite a shock.”

“I—I’m managing.”

Madeleine took my hand with both of her own. Her skin was creamy, smooth where mine was callused and scarred from experiments gone wrong. Even her nails were perfect little ovals, colored pink with tiny jewels on each tip. “I want to help you, Freya,” she said. “Please, think of me as a friend. If you need anything . . .”

“Your Majesty?” A servant floated toward us, holding a tray of pastries. “Would you care for a tart?”

I didn’t, really. My stomach was still roiling with nerves. But it would be too awkward to refuse. Unsociable, maybe. “Yes,” I said. “All right.” I picked a tiny pastry off the silver tray and smiled at the server. She bobbed into a curtsy, keeping the tray perfectly balanced. Madeleine smiled and reached for one as well.