The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,52
She looked down. “I wouldn’t mind so much if he was. But it’d be nice to know one way or the other.”
For a flicker of a second my thoughts went to Silas. His family would find property. They would make a name for themselves with the impeccable work they were producing. He’d catch the attention of some girl, and he’d break through her preconceived notions with those piercing blue eyes. He’d marry her.
Or maybe he wouldn’t.
How would I ever know?
“Can I ask you a rude question myself?” Valentina ventured.
My eyes fluttered as I focused back in on her face. “You’ve certainly earned the right to it.”
“You must tell me the truth. Your king . . . has he ever been unkind to you?”
“Unkind? Unkind how?”
She made a noncommittal gesture with her hand. “Just . . . unkind.”
I searched my memories. Maybe he’d been inconsiderate, but never unkind. “No.”
She pressed her hand against her stomach, on guard.
“Valentina?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
I reached across the table, holding her free hand. “Clearly, it’s not. If anyone can understand the pressure of going from court girl to queen, surely it’s me. Speak to me.”
Her pressed lips started trembling and suddenly parted in quick, shaking gasps. “Everyone keeps watching me. They’re waiting for me to give them another heir, and I know they whisper about me. But it’s not my fault!” she insisted. “I’ve been so careful!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, looking down at that delicate hand across her stomach. “Are you pregnant now?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t bled in two months, but the symptoms . . . I’ve already been with child twice before now and lost them. This seems different. I feel . . . I feel . . .”
“Shhh,” I urged, reaching out to hold her. “I’m sure you will both be fine.”
“You don’t understand.” She sat up, trembling and wiping wildly at the tears on her face. I thought she must be having some sort of fit, because her sorrow quickly shifted to anger, and she never stopped shaking. “If you speak a word of this, I will end your life, do you hear me? If it comes down to your life or mine—”
“Valentina, I’ve already told you how much I value privacy. I will keep anything you say between the two of us.”
The fight seemed to go out of her, and she slumped, propping herself exhaustedly against the back of her chair. Her hands were clutched across her stomach, not so much protective as prayerful. I’d never seen such haunted eyes.
“They think I think I’m above them,” she began. “All the women at court. They think I don’t speak to them because I’ve been elevated, and so I must assume I’m too good to associate with them. But that’s not true. It’s Quinten. He likes me to keep to myself.”
I thought of what Scarlet had said about her being in isolation for six months. I wondered if anyone knew her solitude wasn’t self-imposed.
“I’m sorry. Is that why you only have the one lady?”
She nodded. “We don’t even speak the same language. She brings me what she knows I need, and we’re managing to understand each other more, but she’s not exactly a confidante. I have no one to talk to, no allies, and I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?” For goodness’ sake, she was the queen. “Afraid of what?”
I could see the terror in her eyes, and she started shaking her head very quickly. “I’ve said too much. I . . . you can never tell.”
“Valentina, if you’re in danger, you can claim sanctuary in one of our holy buildings. No one is allowed to take you from there.”
“Maybe here,” she said, rising clumsily to her feet, “but not in Isolte. And they won’t care.”
“Who won’t care?”
“They always come. If you’re in the way, they always, always come.”
“Who?”
“They took my parents. And if I don’t produce an heir, it’s probably only a matter of time. . . .”
I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Valentina, what are you talking about?”
Something in her eyes shifted again, and now her face looked calm, resolved. I’d never seen anyone’s emotions bounce in so many directions so quickly.
“Be thankful for your beautiful little life, Hollis. Not all of us are given such a luxury.”
Wait . . . what was she trying to say? And who were they? Before I could figure out how to form my next question, she was standing, straightening her robe, and walking from the room.