The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,24
very organized, he could be your secretary," Thao said, smirking slightly.
Wendell tried to smooth away the irritation on his face, but I only smiled at him. "Wendell already has a position in my court."
The blond brightened at that and rolled his eyes at his lover before turning back to me. "I would be happy to assist you in any way."
"I think we have our first view," Cosmo murmured, ducking in his seat and pointing out the window.
I stiffened and leaned, blocking the view from the others as I searched through the lines of trees for the Winter Palace.
The castle by the sea that I'd grown up in was ivory and gold, the roof almost pink with clay tiles, and rose trellis vines climbing the stone partway up. It smelled of the gardens, of the bakeries in the city, and occasionally the sea.
The building growing before me was none of those things. By moonlight, it was cold and imposing and… I squinted at the dark splotches of the stone. It appeared dilapidated. The paintings I'd seen before had been…austere, not so bright with color as things were in the south, but certainly clean and polished.
As we rode closer, we reached a massive iron gate, torches in posts and guards waiting in bronze armor and blue uniforms. The gate was draped in dark ivy, and a few of the twisting lines of iron were bent in one direction or another.
"It has been a…a long time since anyone has lived here," I murmured.
Owen's arms slid from my waist and found my hands, large rough fingers taking mine, and I squeezed them gratefully. "We'll make do, Your Highness."
I held onto Owen as my anchor as we circled up the long road that led to the palace until there was no denying the reality of it. The Winter Palace was overgrown, stone cracking in spots. There were weeds growing up the front steps, and the only sign of light and life were the flickering candles in cracked windows.
Thao cursed in Mennarian, and I refrained from mentioning that I was fluent, because the palace was a shit hole.
On the top of the tall staircase leading up to a door that hung crookedly on its hinges stood two figures. One was another guard, tall and broad with skin that matched the armor he wore, and his eyes focused straight ahead. The other was a shorter man, and much rounder, dressed in formal garb and draped in furs. It was cooler here in the north, but as I stepped out of the carriage, I didn't feel the need for fur. Cool, but in a way, more pleasant than the muggy humidity of the south.
"Your Royal Highness," the shorter man moaned and bent in a low bow. "At last you've arrived. We were so concerned. Although we might've used several more days to prepare for your party. As you can see, the Winter Palace is not in its…finest shape."
"I can see, yes," I said, eyeing the steps up carefully, Owen's hand in mine helping guide me in the dark over the broken stone.
The stout man frowned as if he'd expected me to contradict him. "We were given very little notice of your coming."
"Does the palace have no steward?" I asked.
The guard's wide mouth twitched with the briefest smile as the other man puffed. "I am the steward, Your Highness. Sir Hubert of Rumsbrooke," he added with another quick bow.
"Then I am surprised by the condition, regardless of how soon our arrival was," I said.
My Chosen were at my back, and I felt their presence as a strength against this pompous man. It had never been my place to deal with stewards or guards before now, but my grandmother was—thankfully—absent, and I felt a small thrill at staring down my nose at this man as he gave a panicked look to the palace behind him.
"My instructions until now were to leave it," he muttered.
My triumph faltered. "I see. Well, you will have new instructions in the morning. Tonight, however, I hope there was enough time to prepare rooms for myself and my—"
"R-rooms?" Sir Hubert stuttered, his eyes trailing over my Chosen. Because he expected me to take them in mine. Of course, I hissed to myself mentally.
The Chosen had their own place in the castle, a collection of suites connected to their mistress's, and I assumed as much would be available here.
"If I gave up my own quarters next to yours, we might have two," Sir Hubert said, grimacing.