Page 63 of The Queen's Line
I watched the black carriage unload its passengers with a frown as I studied the distant faces. They were generally less familiar to me than Lady Prudence, but with a glance at their cloaks and the crest on the carriage, I made my guesses.
"The oldest is Lord Roderick, Earl of Swansbury, head of the Northern Council. The man helping him up the stairs is his son Jonathon, also a council member. The one with the black hat is Sir Speares, and the young one…" The young, handsome, ridiculously broad shouldered man who followed the others at the back, his eyes drinking in the palace before him.
"Is bait," Cresswell said under his breath.
I hummed with agreement. "He'll be their choice of the new steward," I said.
The council was going to dangle that man in front of Bryony like a treat for a well behaved dog, hoping to install him in her household. Bryony was smart enough to see the ruse for what it was and entirely the wrong princess to be set up for temptation. With a quick glance at Rebecca Sanders and Lady Prudence sliding down from their saddles, I suspected the council was going to leave disappointed.
"Get the door," Cresswell said to the second guard stationed.
"You greet them outside, I'll wait in here. Please include Rebecca Sanders and Lady Prudence," I said, and Cresswell granted me the faintest smile of appreciation with his nod before stepping out into the sunlight.
I moved back, under the transformed chandelier that fluttered and chimed with the breeze from the open door, over to the staircase to wait. Jonathon and Lord Roderick moved through the door first, their eyes widening as they took in the entrance of the palace. I didn't blame them, Bryony's magic had wrought enormous changes. The room wasn't just brighter and less in disrepair, there were new strange and whimsical touches too. The bannister of the staircase was carved with vines and blossoms, the crown molding now contained cherubic faces peering down from the corners, gazes gilded and glittering. The space was almost eerie in its beauty. This was no longer a man-made palace. Magic had changed the walls and the energy of the place; it was all now brimming with life.
"Lord Roderick, Lord Jonathon," I greeted with a slight bow. I was Chosen, so a bow was more of a courtesy than a demand of society now. Chosen had no clear political power, but they had the nobility of their mistress. I watched with a surprising satisfaction as the men returned the gesture, a little deeper.
I stepped forward to meet them halfway and shake their hands, placing us over the tiled mosaic of a suggestive wreath of flowers. "Sir Speares," I added with a faint dip of my head.
"I'd heard you were Chosen, Pope," Jonathon greeted, his eyes tracking me. Jonathon was married and ineligible for the choosing, but I was sure plenty of his peers had attended. "Gents say it was a strange kind of ceremony."
"Not at all, my mistress simply knows her own mind," I said. It was true, although maybe not of Bryony's mood during the choosing ceremony.
"She certainly must," Sir Speares muttered with a glance at Lord Roderick before returning to gaze around the room, his eyes cataloging every change.
"Pope, let me introduce Daniel Farraque," Lord Roderick said, stepping aside to reveal the fourth man.
Ah, so that was who he was. I'd heard of Daniel, the bastard and only son of Duke Farraque. He would likely receive his father's title, but there would always be a disparity in dignity for the family line now. A royal steward would be a good position for him. A member of Bryony's Chosen would beideal. Being Chosen erased every inequity of rank one might be born with.
Daniel was as tall as I was, with a stronger jaw and brown hair. He had sharp blue eyes that ignored me in favor of studying the palace, and a mouth that belonged on a woman, swollen and bow shaped, made for kissing. He was handsome—not more so than Owen or I—but he had an animal quality about him that invited sexual thoughts. I didn't like him, but I wasn't sure if his company was to blame, or the fact that I knew he was meant to ensnare Bryony.
"She's made improvements," Lord Roderick said, as Daniel and I dismissed each other.
"I take it you were aware of the state of the palace then," I answered, watching Roderick's ice blue gaze strike me.
"Not recently," he said, extending the words carefully. And vaguely. He wouldn't admit to being fully aware of Sir Hubert's neglect. "Daniel has been the steward of his own father's estate for the past five years. He'll have the experience to see to any needs that arise for the princess."
"Perhaps," I said, waiting to see any kind of life in Daniel's gaze, any reaction to the way we were speaking of him. But there was nothing. Maybe he was used to being spoken of as if he weren't present. "I believe Princess Bryony may have already made her own inquiries for the position."
Roderick's mouth parted, pale brow furrowing, and I moved around him as Cresswell returned, Lady Prudence's hand around his arm and amused glitter in her gaze.
"Lady Prudence," I said, offering her a full bow.
"Ahh, Wendell. I'm not surprised to see you here, now that I think of it. Your mother must be pleased to have you back in Kimmery," Prudence greeted, pulling me in by the shoulders to kiss my cheeks as I rose.
"I've written, but not seen her yet," I admitted. Thao and I had only just managed to arrive in time for the choosing ceremony.
"Of course," Prudence said. Her warm gaze sharpened as it trailed over my shoulder. "I am glad to see you again, especially now that I'm wondering if Rebecca and I wasted the trip."
Rebecca Sanders watched the men behind me with a wary stare, and I leaned forward to whisper in Prudence's ear. "Can't tell yet, but I doubt it was a waste." I spun on my heel to face the room. "I think we might all adjourn to the great hall to await Her Royal Highness."
"This is…council business, of course. Perhaps the ladies wouldn't mind waiting in a garden somewhere," Sir Speares offered.
Prudence scoffed and rolled her eyes at my side, and I did my best not to look delighted. "In fact, Magistrate Sanders and Lady Prudence are here at therequestof Princess Bryony," I said, adding privately,Instead of showing up without any warning.
"Magistrate…Sanders?" Roderick asked, a white brow arching. "Your late husband, I believe, Mistress Sanders."
"My late husband," Rebecca agreed with a dip of her head. "And recently myself as appointed by—"