Page 30 of Lady's Steed
Gustav stepped away from the door when it opened. Not far enough. Josslyn immediately cuffed him then huffed, “You didn’t tell her I was your sister!”
The usually stoic rook ducked his head, looking sheepish for a rare instant. “I wanted her to meet you and not choose you simply because we’re related.”
“You’re an idiot. Which reminds me, you haven’t been by for dinner in ages.”
“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.
“Get unbusy. And bring the queen if you can’t leave her side.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted his sister.
She shook her head before leaning up to buss him on the cheek. “Be careful, you big idiot.”
The affection between them caused something in Avera to ache. How she would have loved the same relationship with her siblings, but they’d only ever looked at her with disdain, if at all.
She could have blamed her mother, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t have mattered. The age gap and differences between them were too great and lamenting about it wouldn’t change the past. She could only look ahead and hope for a husband who might actually like her. To children she would love. To a future where she would forge the family she always desired.
If she lived that long.
Chapter 8
Despite not having encounteredany snakes, assassins, or bombs since the duke’s death, Avera couldn’t shake a niggling sense that the elder Petturi hadn’t been working alone. Attempts to discover co-conspirators failed despite how many times she pored through the missives that his son had discovered, seeking any clues as to Petturi’s final goal or a hint that might lead to others. The messages only spoke in the singular: i.e. the duke machinated on his own.
It didn’t help that Gustav fed her paranoia by sticking close, and when he couldn’t be by her side a pair of rooks shadowed her movement. While they didn’t hover over her while she worked in the office, they did insist on going in first and checking every corner, even behind the drapes.
At least they weren’t slapping food out of her hand. All meals were currently being served buffet style, meaning she could eat like a normal person unless it arrived on a tray to her quarters. Then she had to wait while someone took a bite and sip of everything. If they didn’t keel over, then she could indulge.
It wasn’t a way to live and yet she didn’t rebuke for she understood this was how Gustav dealt with his grief and the sense he’d failed Queen Calixte. She could only hope heeventually relaxed and realized no one could have predicted such a coordinated massacre. Just like she prayed she’d eventually get over her own fear. It would help if the nightmares didn’t visit every night.
She woke from her latest, shivering under the covers. While she didn’t remember the content of her dream, it left her with a sense of dread, as if warning her the worst was yet to come.
Discomfited by her own tumultuous emotions, Avera chose to not hold an audience after the morning meal, but rather went to her mother’s bedroom, a space she’d not visited since her death. As promised, the room had been stripped of personal effects. The bedding was a completely different fabric and color than before, matching the new tapestries hanging on the walls. The furniture was even slightly rearranged.
The secret doorway to the inner passages had a massive armoire sitting across it and it made her think of something her mother had said before her death, about how they had similar interests.
Opening the cabinet, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find it empty. What had happened to her mother’s effects?
The rooks standing in the hall by the open bedroom door stiffened to attention when she popped out to ask, “I want to know what happened to my mother’s personal items.”
“We don’t know, Majesty,” answered Levitt who bore a grand mustache that curled at the ends.
“Find out,” she ordered.
The rooks eyed each other before Morris, the second rook, replied, “We’re not supposed to leave your presence, Majesty.”
Her lips pursed. “Surely one of you can trot off and ask.”
“Our orders are clear. We are not to leave our post.”
Their post being the glue that stuck to her. She sighed. “Very well, I’ll find out myself.”
She tracked down Dame Tauteapron, the woman in charge of maintaining the royal suites. She commanded a team of maids who kept everything dust-free and clean.
“Dame Tauteapron,” Avera called out, seeing her at the far end of the hall giving instructions to a pair of young maids.
“Majesty.” Dame and her underlings dipped into a deep curtsy. “How can I assist you?”
“My mother’s things, do you know where they were taken?”