The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,81

more to himself.

I'd noticed him wearing less of it as the days went by with our stay in the castle, usually when he wasn't on duty directly in front of us. "You should behave as if you are performing exactly as Her Royal Highness has ordered you to," I offered. "Princesses are expected to be eccentric, and Bryony will never know to correct any false impression you give."

His head turned to me, and his eyes flicked over me head to toe before he looked stiffly ahead again.

"Perhaps you wear less armor because her Hunger demands a better view of you," I said, mostly to watch his reaction.

His steps stumbled and his cheeks darkened, a scowl taking over his features as he straightened again. "I think her ambivalence proves otherwise," he muttered.

I hummed in sympathy, and we reached the front entrance at the same time that a sharp black carriage pulled up to the front steps. I glanced down at the marble and blinked. The steps were whole again. Not just whole, but shining white and laced with shimmering gold veins. An oddly amused jealousy struck me as I realized how and when those steps might've been mended. I wanted to make magic with Bryony too, damnit, although I didn't really care what the repairs were.

"Who is that?" Cresswell asked with a huff of irritation.

I dragged my eyes up from the steps and found the subject of his question, two women arriving on horseback behind the carriage. "Rebecca Sanders and—oh!—Lady Prudence Whitehall."

Lady Prudence was the only daughter and last in line of a once prominent and now obsolete noble family. Her grandfather had lost most of the family money in overseas investments, and then her father the remainder during card games with other nobility. Lady Prudence had some connections, mostly childhood friends like my mother who offered up their homes for her to visit at length, but I hadn't heard any news of her in years.

She was thinner than I remembered, but still a dignified presence even in humble clothing. Her hair was fully gray now, and she had a wince in her expression that I suspected had more to do with the horseback riding than her mood—she'd always been warm but firm with me as a child.

I turned to the guard stationed at the door. "Go to the kitchens and have them prepare some good, strong tea and scones. A tray of meat and olives if there are some to spare."

The guard, an older man with a gray-speckled brown beard, only blinked back at me. "I'm not a servant."

"Go, Walsh," Stark ordered for me. "Tell them to deliver it to the grand hall."

I caught the flash of anger and the clench of the guard's jaw, and then he turned on the heel of his boot and stomped away.

"The palace is understaffed," I murmured, and Cresswell grunted in agreement.

"That's hardly her fault," Cresswell whispered back. "Do you know the men?"

I watched the black carriage unload its passengers with a frown as I studied the distant faces. They were generally less familiar to me than Lady Prudence, but with a glance at their cloaks and the crest on the carriage, I made my guesses.

"The oldest is Lord Roderick, Earl of Swansbury, head of the Northern Council. The man helping him up the stairs is his son Jonathon, also a council member. The one with the black hat is Sir Speares, and the young one…" The young, handsome, ridiculously broad shouldered man who followed the others at the back, his eyes drinking in the palace before him.

"Is bait," Cresswell said under his breath.

I hummed with agreement. "He'll be their choice of the new steward," I said.

The council was going to dangle that man in front of Bryony like a treat for a well behaved dog, hoping to install him in her household. Bryony was smart enough to see the ruse for what it was and entirely the wrong princess to be set up for temptation. With a quick glance at Rebecca Sanders and Lady Prudence sliding down from their saddles, I suspected the council was going to leave disappointed.

"Get the door," Cresswell said to the second guard stationed.

"You greet them outside, I'll wait in here. Please include Rebecca Sanders and Lady Prudence," I said, and Cresswell granted me the faintest smile of appreciation with his nod before stepping out into the sunlight.

I moved back, under the transformed chandelier that fluttered and chimed with the breeze from the open door, over to the staircase