Conquering the Queen (10 page)

The food was brought out. Avin’s stomach growled, for she’d had no dinner. Someone threw a piece of meat toward her. Someone else tossed bread. The dogs snapped it up, and a fat lord yelled to Avin that she’d have to be faster. Avin’s face flamed scarlet, and she wondered why Xander at least wasn’t there to protect her, why he was letting them taunt her.

“Lord Reginald,” someone called out. “Did the king get a new dog?”

Avin’s face flamed at the howls of laughter.

“She is my son’s prisoner,” Lord Reginald said, his voice tight. “And is learning her lesson.”

“Perhaps she should dance for us,” a man called. “Or we could have some sort of contest. The winner could teach her a different kind of lesson!”

More laughter, but it died when the doors opened and the king himself entered. But Avin’s relief turned to despair when she saw that he was not alone. The beautiful young Lady Fleur, dressed in a blue gown and matching cloak, was on his arm, deep dimples showing in her perfect heart-shaped face as she looked up at him.

And he didn’t even look at her, not once. His eyes were only on his companion, who seemed to be chatting merrily to him as he guided her to the chair at the head of the table.

Avin began to shake. Why was he doing this? Why was he not even looking at her?

“That poor thing!”

Lady Fleur was about to sit down when she seemed to notice Avin, and instantly rushed around the table. At that moment, Xander looked over as well, and his face was nearly ashen.

“What is the meaning of this?” the king boomed as he joined Lady Fleur, who was making a show of compassionately wrapping her arms around the deposed queen’s shoulders.

“I only thought the lords of Ravenscroft would appreciate seeing the woman who rejected all we had to offer in her deserved state,” Lord Reginald said. “And I took it upon myself to have her brought here on your command.”

“A command you have no right to give,” Xander said coldly.

“There, there.” Lady Fleur put her arms around Avin. “We will get you out of here.” She looked up at the king. “Please, Your Highness. Undo her chains so I can help her up. No one should have to endure this.”

Murmurs rose as the nobles praised Fleur for her compassion. She walked Avin past the table, stopping in front of Lord Reginald’s chair.

“I am deeply disappointed in you,” she said, and the old man bowed his head.

“Lady Fleur,” he said. “I should have known that a woman of your compassion would feel pity even for those unworthy of mercy. My sincere apologies for offending your good nature.”

Avin felt conflicted as she left the hall flanked by Lady Fleur, who mumbled reassurances as she held her hand, and Xander, who looked as if he would explode at any moment.

Back in her chamber, the king called for Sal and told her to fetch his advisor. As she scurried from the room, he asked Lady Fleur to leave so he could speak to Avin alone. When the young woman left, Avin felt herself pulled into his arms.

“Understand, I had no knowledge of this,” he said.

She looked up at him, unable to form words. Then she looked to the door and back at Xander, and in his features read that he understood the additional cause of her distress.

“She is just a guest, nothing more. Think not on it.”

“How… could… you…”

“I did not do this,” he repeated. “And she is nothing to me. Understand? She’s just a girl from a family linked to mine for years. She’s here for the coronation.” He hugged her to him, and Avin found herself wanting to believe him, but was so shaken by what happened she could hardly feel anything. She could already feel herself retreating inward.

She nodded woodenly as a light rapping could be heard from the outside. Lady Fleur poked her head in.

“If I may,” she said. “Perhaps the kind words of another woman.”

Xander stood. “Thank you for your compassion,” he said. “I must go find my advisor.”

He left and Avin found herself alone with the woman she’d seen with her lover twice now. Lady Fleur was more lovely up close, with her flawless skin, almond-shaped green eyes, and full lips that upturned slightly at the edges.

“You look cold,” she said, and stood to remove the cloak. But when she sank down to wrap it around Avin, the deposed queen gasped.

“That necklace,” she said quietly.

“This?” Lady Fleur put her hand to the sapphire and silver pendant at her throat. Then she looked up at Avin.

“A gift from the king,” she said, and smiled. “He’s very kind.” She took Avin’s hand. “He is also masterful, and knows just how to gain the cooperation of those around him. Do not worry. He will handle his father. And together, he and I will make sure when this is all over that you are put somewhere safe where you can begin your life anew. I believe now he is just concentrating on the coronation. That is why he brought me here. He knew he would need an ally.” She stood. “I must go. The king will not want me to be long from his side. Good night.”

Avin heard the door close and lock as Lady Fleur left. A wave of hurt crashed down on her then, a hurt so heavy it took her breath away. She tried to summon the wall of protection that Xander’s promises had broken down. But she couldn’t. The sight of the necklace Xander had cruelly promised her around the neck of another destroyed Avin’s belief in the king’s love for her. Fleur’s revelation had left Avin as stripped and vulnerable as she’d been the day she’d been driven to the castle. He said he’d reduce her, that he’d humiliate her.

“Why did I believe you?” she asked. “How could I have been such a fool?”

Chapter Thirteen

As a military man, Xander prided himself on keeping a cool head, on formulating the best possible strategy for dealing with his enemy. But as he strode back toward the Great Hall, he found blind rage controlling his thoughts. He knew that as long as he lived he’d never get the sight of Avin’s stricken face out of his mind.

He’d not wanted to be in the company of Lady Fleur, whose chattiness had him focusing on her upon entering the hall. He’d not seen Avin until he’d heard his guest gasp. What must she have thought? The thunderous rage in his chest grew, and then broke when he rounded the corner to see Cynric coming toward him.

Grabbing the advisor by the top of his robe, he shoved the rotund man against the stone wall. Cynric emitted an ‘oomph,’ and the usually unreadable eyes registered fear.

“Your Highness,” he said in a shaky voice. “What is the matter?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” Xander twisted his hands in the brightly colored robes. “We both know you’ve been hiding, and for good reason. Was this your plan, too?”

Cynric shook his head. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Lord Reginald wants you to consider building a second castle in the south. He asked me to go into the library and find the old plans of the master architects of this castle for you to consider, as a model. He ordered me return by the end of the feast so plans could be discussed with the Ravenscroft nobles.”

Xander slowly let the advisor go. Cynric was smooth; he’d never seen him scared and confused and knew this was no act.

“My father purposefully got you out of the way,” he said. “He arranged for the feast to start early so that Avin would be there when I arrived.”

“Avin?” Cynric asked, worry edging his tone. “What happened?”

Xander told him—told him how he’d promised to escort Lady Fleur but had been forced to wait when she wasn’t ready, how he’d arrived to find the feast already in progress. How he’d looked up once he’d found his seat to see his beloved chained to the wall among the dogs, wearing a beggar’s dress, with food thrown at her feet.

“Were it not for Lady Fleur’s kindness, it would have been worse,” Xander said. “She was the first to rush to Avin’s aid, even before I could. She helped me get her up to the room. I will have to express my gratitude.”

“No…” Cynric shook his head. “You will have to exercise caution. The Lady Fleur is not what she seems.” The advisor lowered his voice. “There is nothing genuine in her kindness. Everything she does is by design. Everything she does is political. She is in collusion with your father, Xander. She seeks to be your queen, and to do that she must elevate herself even as Avin is reduced. Her show of compassion to a hated slave was all to that end. Don’t you see?”

Xander turned away. “So many times I’ve joked that a man like you knows nothing of women, and here I am completely fooled by one.” He turned back. “I left her alone with Avin. She said she wanted to comfort her.”

“You should go to her, Xander. Go to her and find out what was said.”

“I will,” the king replied, then his face turned stormy. “But first I will confront my father.”

“No…” Cynric held up his hand. “You’ve trusted me before. Trust me again. Your father will simply plead misunderstanding. We must have proof that they are both undermining you, if you are to act. Do not confront your father. He will only use it to his advantage, and it will hurt the alliance. The fact that he obviously conspired to have Lady Fleur chide him was a crafty move. It made her look magnanimous, while dashing any public tensions between the two of you.”

“I will not wait long,” Xander said. “And I will not allow his meddling any longer.”

“I know that,” Cynric said. “Go to Avin. Comfort her. Wait for my word.”

Chapter Fourteen

Xander took the stairs two at a time in his eagerness to reach Avin’s chamber. He did not knock, but opened the door and went in.

“Avin.”

She was seated on a chair by the window, her back to him. She did not respond, but Xander was not to be dissuaded. He knew she was hurt and humiliated. He could only imagine the assumptions that were running through her mind.

He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, only to have Avin explode from her chair, turn, and throw something at him. It was a cloth, and it took a moment to register that it was the tapestry she’d been working on, its intricate rendering of the Ravenswood now ripped to shreds. He looked at it, baffled, then looked at her.

Never had he seen her face this tortured, not even on the day she’d been delivered to him by the guards.

He dropped the tapestry. “Avin,” he said. “You will listen.”

But she just shook her head as she backed away. “You could have just told me,” she said. “You could have told me you were going to marry her.”

He shook his head.

“Marry her? Avin, you couldn’t be more wrong. She was my dinner companion, nothing more.”

“Don’t play the ignorant.” Her voice was shaking with barely controlled rage. “And don’t try to deceive me. I saw the necklace you gave her. I know you have been lying to me, laughing at me…”

“Necklace?”

“Your mother’s necklace. The one you promised me. Has it been a fun game, playing me for a fool, showing me one face while wearing another away from me?”

Xander was confounded. He’d not given Lady Fleur the necklace. In fact, he was sure she wore no necklace when they were at dinner.

“I gave her no necklace, Avin.” He adopted a firmer tone now, feeling anger at her false accusation. “I gave her no gifts.”

“Do not lie,” she said. “I am sick of lies. And I’m sick of a man child who is no better than the father who sired him.”

“That’s enough,” he said, and took a step toward her. But when he did, Avin took another step back and picked up a fruit knife. For a moment, Xander thought she would attack him, but what she did was worse. Instead, Avin put it to her own throat, her eyes wild with pain.

“Do not touch me,” she said. “You will never touch me again, not after what you have done.”

“You’ve gone mad,” he said, but he did not approach her for fear of what she might do. “You accuse me falsely.”

A tear slipped from her eye. “No,” she said. “I do not. And you know I do not. Leave now and I swear I will not hurt myself. I will sit at your feet at the coronation, and then you will let me go, for I will take my own life before I let you keep me. I no longer put my faith in you.”

Xander backed away, confused and frustrated. He’d wanted to repeat his defense—that he’d not given the necklace to Fleur. That, in fact, he’d told no one of his plan to give it to Avin. The delusions were obviously her own. Her hurt had pushed her into madness, he decided. He’d lost her. He longed to reach out, to reach her. But he couldn’t. Not with her like this.

“You’re wrong,” he said again, and when she pressed the blade against her throat in response, he put his hands up.

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m leaving…”

And he did, seeking as he shut the door to suppress a cry of frustration at knowing he could not comfort her even if he wanted to.

Chapter Fifteen

Cynric knew he could not reveal any knowledge of what had happened. He’d gathered the plans for the castle and returned to the Great Hall, where he found Xander sitting at the head of the table with Lady Fleur, who looked more satisfied than ever.

The advisor observed that the king was working to keep his face passive as he conversed with the nobles. But to an astute eye, his tense posture suggested a man who was not at ease. Whatever had transpired between Xander and Avin, Cynric realized, had not been good.

Lord Reginald asked his son for permission to speak. Xander granted it gruffly, and the old man stood and told the nobles that with the king’s permission he would like to see a new castle built in the south, a castle that would eventually become the seat of the kingdom.

“Ravenscroft is the victor,” Lord Reginald said. “The seat should be there!”

The crowd cheered at this, and Cynric exchanged a quick glance with the king. Lord Reginald knew his son had been planning to seat him as warden of the south, and it was clear that he wanted more than regional power. He wanted to be at the seat of it—the power behind the throne at all times. What’s more, he wanted it to be apparent.

Cynric felt uneasy as he watched. Xander’s tension was becoming more obvious and when the king stood, for a moment the advisor feared he would verbally attack Lord Reginald. But instead, the king cut the discussion off, saying that much wine had been consumed and that this was a discussion best left for another time, when all could debate it soberly.