The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(45)

One of the courtiers scurried in front of her and bowed. "Only when you're called for, esteemed mistress. Many apologies for the inconvenience, but perhaps you would like a walk through the rose gardens? Or a tour of the palace treasures? We have many delightful sights and pleasantly appointed rooms."

"My sister asked me to come." More like commanded, really, though Mother and Daddy had said, somewhat doubtfully, that she might not have had a hand in the wording. Arin planned to talk to Daleina about that, nicely of course. Just because she's queen does not mean I'm at her beck and call. Family should be exempt from royal bossiness. "Does she know that I'm here?"

The courtier dodged the question. "She has many demands on her time-"

A soft, firm voice interrupted, "I will take her from here."

Arin recognized the man who'd entered the room-he'd visited with Daleina before the trials and had examined her broken leg. She smiled at him with relief. "Healer Hamon! Very good to see you."

He wrinkled his nose for a brief second-he must have gotten a whiff of all the dueling scents-and then smoothed his face into a pleasant smile. "I see the courtiers have welcomed you."

Laughing, she held out her arms, the sleeves draping in voluminous waves, and turned in a circle. "They've made me presentable."

He kept his smile on. "Well then. We shouldn't let their hard work go to waste. Let's present you." With a bow to the caretakers, he guided Arin out of the room and into a hallway with polished black walls that wound to the left and then rose up in a series of white steps. Hamon's hand was on the small of her back, and at first Arin thought he was guiding her, as if she weren't capable of responding to simple left-right commands, but then she realized he was, in a way, claiming her as his approved guest. The courtiers and guards they passed looked at her, looked at Hamon, and moved to the side, allowing them to pass without challenge.



       
         
       
        

"All of these people-they're to protect Daleina?"

"She's the most important person in Aratay," Hamon said, his voice low but calm and pleasant as always, "especially while we have no heirs. No one wants to take a chance with her, when it comes to her protection."

She couldn't imagine living surrounded by this many guards, to have this many people aware of your every movement, to be essentially imprisoned inside this palace. She wondered if Daleina saw it this way, as a pretty cage. Maybe she does. Daleina had never viewed being queen as a pleasure, merely as her duty. Arin felt a tiny stab of guilt and quickly buried it. The pleadings of a little girl could not be blamed for a lifetime of choices. Daleina had chosen to stay at the academy, to train with her champion, to take the trials, to claim the crown. Thinking of the Coronation Massacre, Arin felt her throat dry. "It is safe here, isn't it?"

Hamon swung open a door without answering, and Arin blinked as sunlight flooded into her. She raised one fabric-draped arm to block the bright light and peered into the room.

The Queen's Chamber was the most beautiful room she'd seen so far. Everything was ivory and gold and gleamed in the sunlight that poured in from the balcony. Stepping forward, she saw that the trees outside had been grown bowed to leave a gap for the light. She also saw a silhouette of a woman-the queen, her sister-standing on the balcony.

Behind her, Hamon said, "I will be available to you when you have questions."

She turned to ask what he meant-when she had questions? What kind of questions did he expect her to have?-but he was already closing the solid, carved doors.

"Daleina?"

She expected Daleina to smother her in a hug like she usually did, as if she were still a little kid whom she could pick up and swing around, but her sister stayed on the balcony, motionless, looking out over the trees. She could have been a statue. Arin approached her slowly, aware of the carpet compressing beneath the thin soles of her fancy shoes and of the swoosh of her satiny dress behind her. She felt like a cat who had been dressed up and wanted to claw at the fabric until she felt like herself again. Stepping onto the balcony, Arin stood beside her sister. "So . . . what are we looking at?"

"Anything but you," Daleina said. "If I look at you, I'll cry."

"My eyebrows aren't that bad."

Her sister's lips quirked and then wobbled. Arin watched her take a deep breath in and realized that Daleina wasn't joking-something was very, very wrong. "It was Hamon's idea to bring you, though he claims I was the one who named you," Daleina said. "I don't remember. I was half asleep at the time. Maybe I did, but I shouldn't have. You should be home."