Page 23 of The Queen's Line

"What do you know of Sir Hubert?" she asked me, and I blinked away the fantasy.

Her Chosen surrounded her in the sparsely furnished sitting room that overlooked the gnarled orchard on the western end of the palace. It was gray out, and the lace of the curtains blocked what little light did try and make its way into the room, but the princess seemed to shine in amber silk, her hands folded on her lap. For all the sweetness in her face and the wide look in her eyes, she did have steel in her spine. I'd seen it the night before when she'd cut the steward down to size, and I liked the sharpness in her tone in contrast to the softness of her appearance.

"Very little, Your Highness," I said, with a dip of my waist. "I met him only yesterday."

The princess pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed slightly. If she were any other girl in the world, I would've teased her for her severity and tried to catch a kiss. That was a pout that deserved to be flirted with.

"But is he known generally here in the north?"

My eyebrows raised. "His…reputation is known. I'm sure the other lords and the like know him, but he's not one to mix with…"With the rest of us, I thought but didn't say. She didn't need to know where I came from, and she certainly didn't appear interested.

"He's not liked then," she said. I gaped at her, and she only nodded. "If his neglect of the castle is any indication of that of his people, I'm not surprised. I would like you to find him and bring him to speak to me here. When I'm done, I'll need you to escort him from the palace and ensure he doesn't find his way back here without an explicit invitation from myself. Is that…" She frowned at herself, and the big one—the one I'd known vaguely from the army stables—squeezed her hand as the Mennarian prince rested his hand on her opposite shoulder. "Will you be able to manage that?"

I bowed. "Easily, Your Highness." Hubert would probably spit in my eye for it, but as Head of the Royal Guard, my orders were the ones that came from the princess's lips. And it would be a genuine pleasure to toss Hubert out. He was known for not only his general neglect of duty and miserly hoarding of money, but also the misery he put young female staff through.

I left the room, trying to catch the murmur that rose up at my back, but the princess and her Chosen were careful to keep their conversation private. I could guess roughly where I'd find the older man and headed for the kitchens, my steps soft on the tile, even in my heavy boots. I didn't mind the royal guard uniform, although the armor was heavier and less necessary in my opinion than that of the army's. I would be a better guard to the princess without any armor at all, but I kept that personal fact to myself. The army general who'd given me my new assignment had made it very clear I wasnotchosen for my second nature. I was trained and capable, and that was all she needed if any threatdidarise.

Passing the larder, I heard the telltale scuffle and whimper, and I dove into the room to find Hubert holding a young girl to the wall—the princess's new maid. He barely had a grip on her, and he startled as I entered, the girl slipping free with a gasp and a sob.

"Go and find Granny Umber in the kitchens," I said to her. Bertha Umber, the new head cook of the Winter Palace, was a motherly legend in Rumsbrooke. She'd nearly reared me herself, and she'd manage the girl's frightened trembles and bruised wrists with ease. I would manage Hubert.

"What are you doing in here?" Hubert blustered, quick to try and right his trousers. "You should be at the gate."

"The princess wants to see you. I have orders to take you to her," I said, stepping forward and blocking Hubert's sight of the girl running out the door.

Hubert stiffened and stood taller, a smug smile painting over his lips. "Does she? Well, of course. I am at Her Highness's disposal."

I resisted the urge to grin at his choice of language. Disposal, indeed. As if a princess like the one I'd left in the other room would want a man as slimy and foul-hearted as Hubert.

"Don't stand so proud, you idiot," Hubert spat at me as he tucked his shirt away and smoothed back his thinning strands. "You interfere with my business again, and I'll be sure to see the princess tosses you out of this promotion as quick as it was handed down to you."

Keep talking, you old pervert. I'll enjoy walking you out to the gates every bit more in a few minutes.

When Hubert was as presentable as a man who thought that fur was fashionable in the dead of summercouldbe, I stood back and allowed him to pretend to lead the way.

"The garden study," I said when he veered toward the stairs that would take us up to the bedrooms.

He chuckled. "Ah, christening every room, are they?"

I would've rolled my eyes, but there were too many mirrors, even in the dark hall. When we made it back to the study, the princess's Chosen had provided her more space and I noted the way it gave her a more imposing position, guarded at her back with her chin high and the gentleness in her expression wiped away.

"Your Royal Highness," Hubert simpered, rushing forward and reaching for the Princess's hand.

"That's close enough," she bit out, and then blinked at me as I caught Hubert by the back of his coat before he could throw himself at her.

"Unhand me, you mixed-blooded wretch!" Hubert growled.

The slur was one I'd heard plenty of in Kimmery. No one knew quite where I'd come from, whether it was my mother or my father who was the supposed blot on my family line. Only that I'd appeared on the docks as a child, darker than a Kimmerian child, but with the right shade of green in my eyes. Someone's bastard, no doubt.

"Sir Hubert, compose yourself," Princess Bryony said, and Hubert stilled and stood, trying to draw himself up higher. "It goes without saying that I am unimpressed with your management of this estate. The condition of the palace, the grounds, is deplorable. And yet it was the discovery of the device in your bedroom, intended to spy on myself and my Chosen—"

"Your Highness, I wouldnever! That was there of course, but I would certainly never presume…" Hubert spluttered, and even I couldn't keep my eyebrows from rising.

I'd thought it strange that a steward would try and insist on taking the suite next to the princess and her Chosen, but to do so for the sake ofspying…

No, not spying. Watching them have sex, I realized. He'd been trying to peep in on the princess. It was less surprising than it wasbravefor him to still be here after having his plan ruined.

"I don't believe you," Princess Bryony said in the face of his panic. Behind her, the men of her Chosen seemed to swell with protective energy, even the shorter and less severe looking of the group glaring down at Sir Hubert. "Whatever you have or have not been doing with this palace ends now. You are dismissed from your duties and the premises."