The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(108)

Llor began to cry.

Naelin closed her eyes again. She wanted to sag into a heap on the floor. But she didn't. She held herself upright and her expression firm until Renet left with the caretaker. Even then she didn't allow herself to collapse. She gathered her children into her arms as the door clanged shut behind him. "Everything will be all right," she promised them.

"You don't know that," Erian said, pulling away from her. "At least this way we won't be alone when you're killed." She ran into the bedchamber and slammed the door behind her.

Llor sobbed louder.

Hugging him, Naelin tried to scoop him up, but her muscles were tired and shaking, and he was a solid six-year-old boy. Coming around her, Ven picked him up and carried him with her into the bathroom. There, Ven helped her dry Llor's tears and prepare him for bed, washing him, brushing his teeth, dressing him in a nightshirt. Together, they tucked him in, and Naelin kissed his forehead. "Don't die, Mama," Llor begged sleepily.

"I won't," she said, and hoped she wasn't lying.

Trotting in, the wolf licked the tip of Llor's nose, and Llor giggled. He then closed his eyelids. Naelin watched him for a moment longer until he was breathing evenly. She then went into her bedchamber, where Erian had thrown herself on Naelin's bed.

"You're mad at me," Erian said, "but I'm not sorry."

"I am sorry," Naelin said, and kissed Erian's forehead. "And I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the situation. I'm mad that I have to be apart from you for even a second. I'm mad that things change. But I'm not mad at you. And even if I were, you know what? I'd still love you."

"But you don't love Father anymore." 

Naelin sighed. "People change."

"What if I change, and you decide you don't love me anymore?"

She did not want to have this conversation right now. She silently cursed Renet for forcing her to. "How about I promise?"

"You married Father. Didn't you promise him then?"

She had a point. Naelin was supposed to always love him. They'd built a life together. They'd had a home. They'd raised children. They were supposed to grow old together. If she could just forgive him for this one mistake . . . Except it wasn't one mistake. It was the culmination of every mistake. It was the fact that he'd never grown up, never taken responsibility, never . . . But Erian was waiting for her answer. "That's different."

"Why?"

"Because he also made promises to me . . . and he didn't keep them. I loved him, and he thought that meant that he had no responsibilities, that I would mother him and you, that I'd fix his problems, correct his mistakes, and keep us all safe no matter what whim struck him . . . and that almost cost me you and Llor. And I won't let that happen. I promise."

Erian relaxed. She padded to the room where she and Llor slept, and let Naelin tuck her in and kiss her forehead. She even smiled at Ven and gave Bayn a pat on the head. Tiptoeing out with Ven and Bayn, Naelin shut the door on the children.

"Are you all right?" Ven asked her.

"I owe you an apology for all the family drama," Naelin said. "I know it's not the role of a champion." She tried to summon up a smile, but it required too much energy. She sank onto the couch.

"But it is the role of a friend." He sat beside her.

"Aw, that's sweet. You know, you look deadly, but you are a sweet kitten inside." Without thinking about it, Naelin leaned against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. After a moment, he put his arm around her shoulders, and she was suddenly conscious of how close they were. They'd been close before, during training, especially when he was teaching her how to break holds and dodge knives, but that was entirely different, when Renet's accusation still hung in the air. She felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, and she breathed in the smell of him: a mix of leather and sweat and pine needles. She could move away. Stand up, say good night, fall asleep in her own bed. But this . . . was nice.

She fell asleep like that, head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her-safe.



Two more days of training.

Naelin spent the mornings with Queen Daleina and the afternoons with Ven. Throughout, the wolf Bayn stuck with her. She took to requesting raw meat with every meal, so that she could feed him too. "You should be out hunting," she told him. "You're a wolf. It's the wolfly thing to do."

He merely looked at her with his yellow wolf eyes and then lay down in the hearth in the late Queen Fara's chambers.

"He likes you," Ven said.

"He likes the meat."

"That too." Coming up behind her, Ven put one hand on Naelin's wrist. "Now, what do you do if I grab you, spin you, and try to stab you?" He pulled her around, and she spun to face him. His other hand was formed into a fist, as if he held a knife. She felt his fist against her stomach. If it had been a real knife, she'd already be dead.