The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(48)
“Yes, that’s been explained.”
“The rumor began when His Highness Prince Tobiah took over the wraith mitigation committee. It’s well known that King Terrell and Queen Francesca are from two different houses, and his grandparents on each side are from the other two. Prince Tobiah is House of the Dragon, but he’s descended from people of all four, if you take his grandparents into account.” She gave a liquid shrug. “It’s not exactly rare for this to happen, but it is unusual. The fact that Prince Tobiah will be king one day makes him even more unusual, and you know common people. They will find signs and superstitions in anything. They need to believe someone will save them before the wraith destroys everything, so they’ve placed their hope in their future king.”
Signs and superstitions—like the mirrors that covered every western surface of the city, courtesy of King Terrell the Second. How very common of him.
“I see. Thank you for explaining.” I turned my spindle in my hands, judging the weight, the sturdiness, and the sharp end. If I needed to bash in any of their heads, or my own—whichever would help me peel real information from their inane chatter more quickly—the spindle would serve as an adequate weapon. “What are the Flag priests saying about Black Knife and the wraith?”
“Some say he works for Prince Tobiah, but that’s ridiculous because he’s a vigilante and—”
The solar door opened and all the ladies abandoned their work to stand. When the queen stepped in, they performed small, deferential curtsies. I rose, too. Murmurs of “Your Majesty” fluttered through the room.
Queen Francesca was a thin, stern-looking woman, immaculately dressed in a high-waisted gown of blue silk. Intricate embroidery, patterned with stylized suns and birds in flight, swirled over her sleeves and shoulders and bodice. When she spoke, however, her voice was soft. Meek, almost. “Good morning, ladies. Would you mind if I worked with you?”
Immediately, servants were ordered to fetch an appropriately comfortable chair for her, and better wine.
The queen came farther into the room, out of the servants’ way, and in the doorway, two young men hovered: Tobiah and James. Escorting the queen, apparently.
Both boys looked as though they’d been up late, with bags under their eyes. But while James wore an expression of careful neutrality, Tobiah’s mouth was pinched and he appeared deeply unhappy as he noticed my presence next to his fiancée.
His expression almost persuaded me to spend as much time as possible with Meredith, just to annoy him.
“Lady Meredith. Good morning. You look radiant, as always.” He kissed her hand, an odd softness about him as he admired the work she was doing and praised her skill with the needle; she glowed with his attention. But his smile was stiff, overly formal as he greeted the rest of the ladies by name. Then he turned to me. “Lady Julianna, may I speak with you in the hall?”
All eyes turned toward me as I placed the spindle and wool on the chair, and followed the prince and his bodyguard. The queen’s eyebrow lifted as I passed her.
Tobiah left the door open for propriety’s sake, but motioned me down the hall a few paces, where we could speak without being overheard. “I was going to send you a note,” he said. “I think that might have been easier.”
And I would have had a sample of the prince’s handwriting. I tried not to let my disappointment show; he probably had a boring hand anyway.
“After the committee meeting the other day, several of the members approached me separately with concerns.”
I tilted my head and offered a quizzical look.
“They’re concerned that the meetings might be too difficult for you to continue attending. Because the majority of those in attendance carried identical misgivings, I’m afraid I must—”
“I understand.” It was rude to interrupt, and a duchess would never dare, but one nursing wounded pride might be that bold, so I risked it. I set my mouth in a line and directed a glare across the hall, on a framed mirror reflecting a portrait of some long-dead queen.
“Not because of your gender, I assure you, but because you’ve endured something incredibly traumatic. The gentlemen are simply concerned for your peace of mind. We all wish you nothing but healing.”
Beyond the prince, James stood with his hands behind his back, shoulders straight, and a slight frown on his face. When our eyes met, he shook his head just barely.
We both knew why the committee didn’t want me. Fortunately, I’d already learned everything I needed for the Ospreys. But what about the lake?
I’d simply have to continue my own research, and follow it wherever it took me.
“I understand,” I said again, and met the prince’s eyes. “I’m disappointed, of course. Though I appreciate the concern, I know I could be useful.”
The prince’s expression was unreadable. “I’m afraid the decision is final, but I will keep you apprised of any developments. I hope that will suffice.”
That sounded unlikely. “Thank you.” I put no effort into sounding genuine.
“Have a good morning with the ladies.” At that pointed dismissal, he turned and headed down the hall. James flashed an apologetic smile before following.
When I returned to the ladies’ solar, the women were already hard at work once more. The queen sat in a tall chair with half a dozen pillows squeezed in with her, and she worked right alongside the others. She spun on a spindle—a much finer one than I’d been given.