The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,31

girl slipping free with a gasp and a sob.

"Go and find Granny Umber in the kitchens," I said to her. Bertha Umber, the new head cook of the Winter Palace, was a motherly legend in Rumsbrooke. She'd nearly reared me herself, and she'd manage the girl's frightened trembles and bruised wrists with ease. I would manage Hubert.

"What are you doing in here?" Hubert blustered, quick to try and right his trousers. "You should be at the gate."

"The princess wants to see you. I have orders to take you to her," I said, stepping forward and blocking Hubert's sight of the girl running out the door.

Hubert stiffened and stood taller, a smug smile painting over his lips. "Does she? Well, of course. I am at Her Highness's disposal."

I resisted the urge to grin at his choice of language. Disposal, indeed. As if a princess like the one I'd left in the other room would want a man as slimy and foul-hearted as Hubert.

"Don't stand so proud, you idiot," Hubert spat at me as he tucked his shirt away and smoothed back his thinning strands. "You interfere with my business again, and I'll be sure to see the princess tosses you out of this promotion as quick as it was handed down to you."

Keep talking, you old pervert. I'll enjoy walking you out to the gates every bit more in a few minutes.

When Hubert was as presentable as a man who thought that fur was fashionable in the dead of summer could be, I stood back and allowed him to pretend to lead the way.

"The garden study," I said when he veered toward the stairs that would take us up to the bedrooms.

He chuckled. "Ah, christening every room, are they?"

I would've rolled my eyes, but there were too many mirrors, even in the dark hall. When we made it back to the study, the princess's Chosen had provided her more space and I noted the way it gave her a more imposing position, guarded at her back with her chin high and the gentleness in her expression wiped away.

"Your Royal Highness," Hubert simpered, rushing forward and reaching for the Princess's hand.

"That's close enough," she bit out, and then blinked at me as I caught Hubert by the back of his coat before he could throw himself at her.

"Unhand me, you mixed-blooded wretch!" Hubert growled.

The slur was one I'd heard plenty of in Kimmery. No one knew quite where I'd come from, whether it was my mother or my father who was the supposed blot on my family line. Only that I'd appeared on the docks as a child, darker than a Kimmerian child, but with the right shade of green in my eyes. Someone's bastard, no doubt.

"Sir Hubert, compose yourself," Princess Bryony said, and Hubert stilled and stood, trying to draw himself up higher. "It goes without saying that I am unimpressed with your management of this estate. The condition of the palace, the grounds, is deplorable. And yet it was the discovery of the device in your bedroom, intended to spy on myself and my Chosen—"

"Your Highness, I would never! That was there of course, but I would certainly never presume…" Hubert spluttered, and even I couldn't keep my eyebrows from rising.

I'd thought it strange that a steward would try and insist on taking the suite next to the princess and her Chosen, but to do so for the sake of spying…

No, not spying. Watching them have sex, I realized. He'd been trying to peep in on the princess. It was less surprising than it was brave for him to still be here after having his plan ruined.

"I don't believe you," Princess Bryony said in the face of his panic. Behind her, the men of her Chosen seemed to swell with protective energy, even the shorter and less severe looking of the group glaring down at Sir Hubert. "Whatever you have or have not been doing with this palace ends now. You are dismissed from your duties and the premises."

I made to reach for him, but he wasn't done.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, it was the council who hired me," Hubert said, chest puffing.

The princess stood, and I realized she wasn't so small. She was a little taller than Hubert, although still dainty by comparison to his girth. But she stood with the kind of pride one expected in a royal, that must've been reared in them from their first steps.

"And does the council have more authority in my palace