Warrior's Ransom (The First Argentines #2) - Jeff Wheeler Page 0,62

“What is this about, Devon? I was under the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”

“That would be my preference,” Devon said. “But alas, it cannot be helped.” The hostility between them made Ransom squirm inside. He felt loyalty to them both—although he’d made his vow to the king, it was the queen who’d ransomed him back when he was a prisoner.

“You’ll forgive me if I’m ignorant as to how I may help you,” Emiloh said. “Some news does mount the steps now and then, but I don’t know much about the current situation.”

“It is not for the present that I seek you out. It’s for the past.”

The queen’s brow furrowed. “Have we not hurt each other enough with that topic?”

Devon pursed his lips. “Maybe. But there’s something more I need to know.”

Emiloh’s gaze remained fixed on the king. “And why must Ransom be here? Does it concern him?”

“It does indeed, my dear. You may have heard we defeated Estian and were given the duchy of Bayree?”

“I have. What of it?”

“Tell me what you know of the duke’s niece. You were neighbors with the man, after all.”

Ransom watched as the queen’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What do you wish to know?”

“Do you know her name?”

“Alix, I recall,” said the queen stiffly. Her wariness increased. “What of it?”

The king turned toward the window again, his cheek muscles twitching. “Is she your daughter, Emi?”

Ransom watched the queen, waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wasn’t prepared for the pain and guilt in her eyes. That look betrayed her. She must have known it, for she stared down at the floor.

“Yes,” she said huskily. “I believe so.”

The king sniffed, still looking away. He seemed to be wrestling with his own emotions. “You had an affair with the Duke of Bayree, then? Before we were married?”

“No,” said the queen.

The king winced. “After we were married?”

“You know that’s not true,” said the queen, her voice throbbing with anger at the accusation.

The king turned, staring at his wife with torment. “Do I?”

“Alix isn’t his daughter. She’s Lewis’s.”

Ransom stared at her in surprise. The daughter of the King of Occitania? The king’s reaction was even more stunned. He gaped at his wife.

“I thought . . . it was a knight,” Devon said, perplexed.

“Of course you believed that. It sounds far more romantic that way,” said the queen, her voice betraying bitterness. “I was very young, Devon. I didn’t understand the nature of some men back then. He came to visit me, to offer his . . . protection. But his actions belied his motives. I was frightened. My father was dead. I had no one to protect me.”

Devon stared at his wife, a gamut of feelings playing across his face. This was news.

“I tried to keep the pregnancy a secret,” she said. “Lewis knew and offered to take the child. This was before Estian and Noemie were born, and he and his wife had no children. He was . . . greedy about it. He wanted her. I think he feared for his kingdom’s future if he died without having a child. I did not give myself to him, Devon. I was too frightened to refuse.”

The king looked down and nodded. “You deceived me,” he said.

“I did,” she answered. “On our wedding night. I confess it. But I never intended to hurt you.”

A frown twisted Devon’s mouth.

Ransom stared at the queen in pity. This was not the story Alix had told him. Perhaps she didn’t know the truth herself but had been fed the lie since her youth. Lewis was dead now, beyond the reach of retribution.

Something in the queen’s words triggered a memory in his mind. A memory of Lewis’s daughter, Noemie, and something she had said to Ransom when she had tried to manipulate him. He hadn’t thought on that encounter in a long time, and he vaguely remembered her words, her urgency. Had it all been a trick? Or was there indeed a magical game of Wizr at work that controlled the fates of kingdoms? How could he know what was a lie and what was truth?

“I might have forgiven you if you’d told me,” he said. “I very much wanted the Vexin, and I very much wanted you at the time. Now, things are different. You twisted my sons against me. You poisoned them.”

“I did not,” said the queen, shaking her head. “You still cannot see it, Devon? You have done the poisoning yourself. Pride is