The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,14
staircases with a pair of twins.
"Grandmother is looking for you," Camellia said, sighing as Sam ducked to suck along the collar of her dress.
I wanted to ask why she bothered dressing at all, except I was afraid it might just goad her into forgoing clothing.
I didn't find shame in public sex. My family had a history of performing it freely. But there was something in Camellia's habit of it that seemed cruelly focused on mocking me. If she'd been more absorbed in her Chosen than she was in making me a witness, I might not have minded so much.
"Mother is with her," Camellia added as I started to pass her. Her hair was up, or had been at some point, the color a lighter shade than mine and strands full of tangles. "Bry-bry, what have you done now?"
"Very little that should concern you," I said.
I stopped in my step and crossed my arms around the books I cradled, watching Sam ruck up Camellia's thin white skirt. It was a little stained, and his eyes slid away from Camellia's pale skin to find me. He looked tired…or bored, I wasn't sure, his lips chapped and his eyes too absent and unfocused to be lustful.
Camellia frowned and turned, blocking my view of her Chosen. "I don't understand you," she said to me, passing the words over her shoulder before pushing the man down to his knees.
I sighed and shook my head, heading for the doors. I didn't really understand me either. I thought I understood my family even less.
I tried to read on my way to my grandmother's suite, flipping through the pages of each book as I rotated them in the stack in my arms, searching for some mention of royals without the Hunger. The closest I found was a princess who died of a fever before reaching adulthood. Searching for the information provided a welcome distraction from my nerves as I made my way through the castle, my eyes down and avoiding any stray glance from the servants.
When I reached my grandmother's wing, I set the pile of books down on a side table before stepping up to the door, smoothing back my hair. I hadn't bothered dressing for the day, partly to avoid the giggles of the maidservants, and partly to avoid Aric and the others in my bedroom. But it wasn't so uncommon for the queen's line to look disheveled, although I was lacking the usual excuse.
The servant posted outside of the door stepped in to announce me, waving me through after a sharp "Send her in" from my Grandmother. I stalled in the doorway however, when I saw my mother. It had been several weeks since I'd seen her last. She preferred to remain shut up with her Chosen in her wing, leaving Grandmother as the mouthpiece to the queen's line.
My mother was small, like me, with rounded hips and small breasts. Camellia took after Grandmother, tall and thin, although all four of us had the same sharp chin and high brow. Mother, Queen Peony of Kimmery, was reclined on Grandmother's chaise, her feet in the lap of one of her Chosen, who smiled warmly at me before going back to massaging Mother's feet.
"Darling," my mother said, hands reaching for me, although she made no other move in my direction.
"Your Majesty," I said, dipping into the lowest curtsey I could give and then turning my bowed head to my grandmother. "Your Majesty."
"Bryony, come here and kiss my cheek," Mother said.
I was keenly aware of my grandmother's stare scorching into my cheek as I stepped further into her chambers and headed for my mother. Technically, my mother held the real command in our hierarchy, but it wasn't in her nature to wrestle the control away from Grandmother, and I was sure at any moment I was about to be chastised.
My mother's eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed, and her curls were braided softly over her shoulder. She went without a corset generally when I saw her, and at the moment she was wearing only a silk robe over a night dress. I bent, and she turned her head side to side for me to kiss her soft skin.
"Do you know…I think she might be Michael's," my mother said, and it took me a moment to realize she was speaking to her Chosen and not to me. "He has those eyes too."
The man answered her with a docile hum as my mother stared absently up at me.