Besotted (The Fairest Maidens #3) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,74
allow Queen Margery to reduce me to a helpless, quivering simpleton. If I must face death at her hands, I would do so with dignity.
My stomach rumbled with the pangs of hunger, and I pressed my fist there, wishing I could block out the hunger, not only for food but for Kresten. He’d never been far from my mind during the long past few days. Though I’d resolved to do my duty and put thoughts of a future with him aside, I couldn’t so easily dismiss my love.
What would he say when he discovered I’d been captured by the queen? Would he blame himself? I hoped not. He had to know I’d consented to seeing him. And at the end, when he’d tried to distance himself from me so we could part ways, I’d been the one to seek him out.
I prayed he wouldn’t discover what had happened to me until it was too late. Otherwise, he’d put himself into mortal danger coming after me. And I didn’t want him to do that.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor along with voices. I held myself up rigidly, though my knees threatened to buckle. A moment later, keys rattled in the door, and then it swung open to reveal the guard.
Behind him stood a beautiful woman and several more soldiers, servants, and monks. The guard stepped aside, and the woman glided inside the cell. A servant scurried past her, holding up a candle.
The amber light fell across the woman, highlighting her features. Queen Margery, my mother’s twin sister. Margery looked nearly identical to my mother, except instead of having fair hair and blue eyes, Margery had waist-length, raven-black tresses and stunning emerald eyes. She wore an emerald gown that matched her eyes, along with emerald bracelets, emerald earrings, and emerald-studded ribbons.
While she was every bit as beautiful as my mother, something in Margery’s eyes was cold, almost cruel. Nothing like the strong, purposeful, and courageous eyes that had always peered at me from my mother’s portrait at Huntwell Fortress. I tried to picture my mother standing beside this woman. What would Leandra think? What would she do in my situation?
I guessed she would have exuded strength and self-confidence. “Your Majesty, I regret that I am not at my best to receive you, but I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She tilted her head and studied me further, her lips curving up as though she somehow found me or my predicament amusing.
At her mockery, I was all too conscious of how inadequate I was and how little experience I had at interacting with people. While Aunt Idony had prepared me for many things, she couldn’t make up for all that I’d lost in being sequestered for so many years. Was I fooling myself into thinking I could be anything like my mother?
I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. No matter what might happen here with Queen Margery, I would face it with grace.
“You look like Leandra,” Queen Margery said with a note of spite, as if my resemblance to my mother was objectionable.
“You look like her too.”
“Our father always thought Leandra, with her fairer coloring, was more beautiful.”
“Is a raven any less beautiful than a sparrow?”
Margery’s mirth faded, and her gaze narrowed upon me. “Our father also thought Leandra was kinder and wiser and would make a better queen than I would.”
So the speculations were true—Leandra had been King Alfred’s favorite daughter, and he’d intended to give the kingdom in its entirety to her. If so, surely Margery would have felt slighted, even unloved. Perhaps those pains had lingered with Margery her whole life and shaped her into this cruel woman she’d become.
Even if the king hadn’t favored Leandra, maybe Margery had compared herself to her twin and always found herself lacking. Wasn’t that what I’d been doing? Comparing myself to my mother and seeing only my shortcomings?
Perhaps that’s what comparison did. Fostered inadequacy.
“Indeed,” I said, “my mother was renowned for her wisdom, purpose, and fortitude. But that cannot diminish the fine qualities you have that could make you into a kind and wise queen.”
“I am nothing like her.”
“And neither am I.” ’Twas the truth, and I could no longer deny it. I had to stop believing I needed to imitate her in order to be worthy. “I must discover my own strengths and gifts and let those guide me into making good choices for my kingdom.”
“Then you think I have made poor choices, dear niece? Is that it?”