The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,32
flesh, the floral body of Calanthe, and an extension of the goddess. Ambrose had pinpointed a truth I’d only guessed at, perhaps half remembered. Had my father even known the origin of the infant crown princess the priestesses gave into his care? I thought not. He’d only known to protect me, to hide me from the sight of those who’d know me for what I was.
And now the wizards knew perhaps more than I knew about myself. I would have to change that. At least I no longer needed to hide.
My sleeping gown was spattered with blood—and no faithful lady-in-waiting had left a robe for me. So I put on Con’s black shirt, large enough on me to fall to my knees. When I reached the door, I discovered how we’d slept so long unbothered, and slid open the bolt. Con didn’t stir, so I eased open the door and slipped out. He’d been nearly gaunt with exhaustion, and hopefully would sleep himself out.
I padded silently on the thick carpets, seeing my beautifully appointed rooms as if for the first time. The windows out here weren’t boarded over, and flower-scented breezes wafted in filled with sunshine and birdsong, blue skies beyond. The graceful architecture, the works of art on the walls and gleaming in niches, all of it seemed new. When had I last truly looked at any of it? I would now. Pausing, I smoothed my fingertips over a marble sculpture of a bird taking flight. Drawn by a painting of a shrouded woman with a snake’s skeleton at her feet, I admired that, too.
I’d been granted a reprieve, a second chance. I’d returned to my home, my sanctuary and the refuge of so many. I would find a way to save Calanthe, and everything and everyone on Her.
When I opened the door into the outer sitting room, Vesno spotted me first, the wolfhound lifting his head from an afternoon drowse. He bounded for me, waking Sondra who’d been draped over a sofa—boots on and sword in hand, an ugly walking stick lying on the floor beside her. She was on her feet nearly as fast as the dog, lowering her sword soon after and gaping at me.
Ibolya dashed in from an adjoining chamber, most indecorously, skirts lifted high to allow herself to run. She slid to an astonished stop, then threw herself at my feet, pressing her forehead to them. I coaxed Vesno to the side—not easy, as he seemed determined to lick me everywhere—and Sondra came over to urge the wolfhound away.
I crouched down, placed my hands on Ibolya’s shoulders. She was sobbing, shaking with it. “Your Highness,” she gasped. “I—I apologize. I was so afraid.”
“But look,” I said, gathering my poise around me as if I wore my crown and full regalia, “here I am. All is well. Or will be,” I amended.
She lifted her tear-streaked face and nodded. “So many terrible things have happened, Your Highness. Do You truly think it will be right again?”
“Yes,” I told her with all the confidence she required of her queen. “I’ll see to it. But first, I need to bathe and dress, hmm?”
“Oh, blessed Ejarat, what am I thinking?” She scrambled to her feet, assisting me to rise at the same time, then curtsied. “Allow me to summon a bath for You.” She curtsied again, paused as if tempted to do so yet another time, then hurried out to take care of it.
“It was hard on her,” Sondra said, sitting again on her sofa, rubbing Vesno’s ears, “being locked out all this time. Especially after Conrí acted so crazed, waving that knife around and kicking everyone out. I did manage to talk them out of knocking the door down. You’re welcome.”
“How long has it been?”
“A little over eighteen hours. But hey, You look considerably less like a corpse now.”
“Thank you, Lady Sondra. I wish I could say the same for you,” I replied with a lift of my nose.
She snorted, surveying her bedraggled appearance. “Yeah, holding vigil and all. Maybe I’ll go have a bath now, too.” She stood and cast a glance in the direction of the bedroom. “Conrí is still alive, also?”
“Yes. Sleeping hard. I think he missed a lot of sleep.”
“No doubt. He was out of his mind worrying about You.”
She seemed to be asking a question, but I didn’t have an answer, so I nodded. “Thank you, Sondra,” I said instead, “for being there, in that place, with Me.”