Questionable Queen Read online

  Questionable Queen

  Book Two of the Misfit Monarchs Series

  Nancy S. Brandt

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  About the Author

  Untitled

  Questionable Queen

  by Nancy S. Brandt

  Published by Clean Reads

  www.cleanreads.com

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  QUESTIONABLE QUEEN

  Copyright © 2017 NANCY S. BRANDT

  ISBN 978-1-62135-629-5

  Cover Art Designed by CORA GRAPHICS

  In memory of my brother, Robert Petersen Jr.

  and to his wife, Elizabeth who once called me just to say,

  "Whoa, girl. You really can write."

  Acknowledgments

  Every author will tell you that while writing is a solitary profession, none of us can do it alone. I've been fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who indulge my love of all things whimsical and fantastical.

  * * *

  Of course, my first Thank You is to God for reminding me regularly that writing is what He's called me to do. I know there's a 2 x 4 in heaven with my name on it for when I'm not listening and am wallowing in self-doubt.

  * * *

  Thank you to the Rowdy Girls: Wendy Russo and Josephine Templeton, both wonderful writers in their own rights. (Check them out!) Sometimes the only thing that gets me through the week is knowing the Thursday is coming!

  * * *

  To Leah Marie Brown, a dear friend, both in real life and online, thank you for always being there to pick me up with a virtual hug and real encouragement. You are MY It! Girl!

  * * *

  To Stephanie Taylor, you never let me forget that I made the right decision to go with Clean Reads, but more than that, I found a sister I never knew I had in you.

  * * *

  Thank you and all my love to my kids, Noah, Juliette, and the newest one, Andrew. You are the joys of my life, and you make me smile every day.

  * * *

  Last but Never, EVER least, thank you a bazillion times to the love of my life, Steven! Without your constant love and support (and threats of despair spirals), I wouldn't have this crazy, wonderful, hectic roller coaster life living in a fantasy world sending my words out there to see if anyone wants to read them. I love you with all that I am!

  Chapter 1

  Prince Gideon, nephew of King Killian of Heyton, stepped into his parents' sitting room in the East Wing of the Sapphire Palace. All four walls were painted a rich emerald, accented in a white so stark as to be almost blinding even in the wan early morning light. The wall opposite the door held an immense painting of a group picnicking in an apple orchard, surrounded by lush strawberry plants.

  Memories of his fraternal grandmother spending hours sitting under this painting, looking at it silently, filled Gideon. Not all memories, he knew, were from his own remembrances. He had never seen Lady Millicent sleeping on the sofa under the painting, her head on a pillow made of his mother's gray velvet draperies.

  This particular memory was strong and happy, and it had a rosewater aftertaste. That meant it belonged to Harriet, his twin sister.

  Other memories filled this room, but Gideon had learned how to feel them and set them aside as a kind of background noise, as he was able to do in most of the palace. As the only one of the royal family who was able to feel emotional memories, he'd learned early in his life that no one wanted to be reminded of things that had happened in any given room. He kept what he felt to himself most of the time.

  Duke Thomas, Gideon's father, sat on a black sofa, his rich brown hair falling over his forehead as he bent over a worn book. The family pet, a large blue kikserine, was curled up next to him. The animal resembled her ferocious ancestors, but Hex was more house cat than wild predator. Generations of magical breeding had taken nearly all the fight out of her.

  Gideon took a step closer to the sofa, and his father looked up the instant the younger man's cane hit the floor.

  "Son." Duke Thomas smiled. "Is that the report?" He stood, reaching for the parchment in his son's hands.

  "It is. I did it." Gideon sat down on the other side of Hex and stroked the cat's soft pastel blue fur. "Master Cutonus Falco said if I can be back at the university by the beginning of the winter term, he'll take me on as an assistant to the junior professor of Theoretical Magical Experimentation."

  "Theoretical Magical Experimentation?" His father grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit contradictory?" He returned to his seat.

  Gideon sighed. No one else in his family had ever attended a university. They couldn't possibly be expected to understand how detailed the courses were. "We can't allow people to experiment with magic without understanding the possible consequences. This was one of my favorite courses there. I took levels one through six in the five years I was there."

  Duke Thomas shook his head. "It's amazing you understand it all. It's far above me." He slapped his hand on his knee. "It's wonderful, Gid. I'm so proud. I'm sure your mother and sister will be. You haven't told them yet, have you?

  Gideon shook his head. "I wanted to tell you first. Mother has always been..."

  "I know, Son." Duke Thomas folded the parchment and handed it back. "She worries about you. I think she still feels...responsible for...everything."

  With a frustrated sigh, Gideon stood and limped to the huge bay window that looked out over the East Gardens that held the royal strawberry fields. "How can she blame herself for a birth defect? It's not rational."

  "She's a woman, Gideon, and a mother. You can't expect her to be rational about something like this." His father came to stand next to him. With a hand on his shoulder, Duke Thomas said, "She would never say this out loud, but you are her favorite."

  "Father." Gideon faced the older man. "That's not true. She loves Harriet as much as she loves me."

  The older man sighed. "Of course she does. All parents love their children equally, but in different ways. When you were a baby, she sat by your bedside for days on end, afraid you would die. That affects a person's heart, son. She will always worry about you."

  Gideon knew his father was right. He was twenty-seven years old, and for his whole life, his mother had hovered around him like a kikserine mother with her kits.
The only reason he had been able to attend the King Breccan the Fourth University at all was because his father's cousin Caspian was a Professor of Lower Sensitivities there.

  "I'm not a child, Father. Before Harriet got married, Mother let her move into a house in the city with her friends. I couldn't even have one roommate at Breccan."

  "Let's not get into that whirlpool again, shall we? Your mother is your mother, and she worries. That hasn't changed in twenty-seven years, and I doubt if it will any time soon. How about we have a family dinner here in the apartment? Harriet has been looking forward to seeing you."

  "Won't we have to eat with the King? I probably should tell him about the report. I'll need to make arrangements if I'm going to go back before the winter term."

  "That's not for several months. You can take one night to have dinner with just your family before we let the rest of the palace in on the secret.

  "This is a proud moment for our family. The first member of the royal family to attend a university and the first one to graduate." He embraced his son, and Gideon felt his frustration and bitterness subside.

  His father could always make him feel calmer and more relaxed, no matter what brought him to this place.

  All his classes and intense study told him that this was a result of his father's Water Sensitivity. Most people with this Ability could feel emotions in a general, big-picture kind of way, but his father was unusual because he could even out emotions in other people. Smooth off the tops of emotional spikes, so to speak.

  "Thanks, Father." Gideon pulled out of the embrace. "I appreciate it."

  Thomas searched Gideon's face. "You weren't...bothered while in school, were you?"

  Gideon laughed. "Quite the opposite. I was treated just like any other student. I was expected to find my way around the campus and figure out how to get where I needed to be."

  Now his father scowled. "You had to walk up stairs without help?"

  "Of course. It was actually quite refreshing to not have anyone treat me like an invalid."

  "And you didn't have any trouble?"

  "Of course I did at first, but eventually I figured out which classes were the most difficult to get to and how long it took me to get there. By the time I finished all my requirements, I could get around as easily as anyone else."

  Before his father could say anything more, someone knocked on the library door. Duke Thomas glanced at his son, then called, "Come in."

  A young man wearing the livery of King Killian, a dark blue and silver gray tabard over a pair of short black trousers, stood in the doorway. "Prince Gideon, King Killian requests your presence in the Blue Drawing room in the Royal apartments." Without waiting for a response, the man bowed and left.

  Gideon sighed. "I wonder what this is about."

  "Do you want me to go with you? Josiah is bound to be there."

  "No. I'm not afraid of Uncle Killian, and I'm certainly not afraid of his shadow." Gideon patted his father's shoulder and left the library.

  One didn't ignore a summons from the King, as much as Gideon wanted to use his pain as an excuse.

  The King's Blue Drawing room was on the same floor of the extensive Sapphire palace as Gideon's family's apartment, though on the other side. The two residences were far apart, and Gideon's left leg hurt.

  The carriage ride from the school had been a long one last night. Most reasonable people would take two days to travel that distance, and a brisk trade in lodgings had sprung up along the King's Road to serve travelers.

  However, Gideon had been eager to get home and had insisted his driver only stop the carriage long enough for meals and to change horses. Sleeping in the carriage wasn't one of the brightest ideas he'd ever had, given the stiffness of his hip and knees now.

  After five years at the university, where no one paid any attention to his family connections or his disability, the last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention at an inn or tavern along the King's Road.

  His companions hadn't been thrilled with his decisions, but now they were sleeping comfortably in their own beds.

  Gideon wished he could be in his own room as well, but he felt he owed this to Uncle Killian. Five months ago, when Uncle Killian was crowned King, Gideon had been in the middle of exams, and while the university would have been thrilled to make accommodations for the King's nephew, Gideon had chosen not to press the issue.

  Life in the Sapphire Palace had never been easy for him. Given his inability to sit on a horse, participation in hunts became impossible. The birth complications that had given him a deformed leg also did the same to his arm, so he couldn't hold a sword or bow.

  At least, no one had been able to teach him those skills as a child or adolescent.

  This wouldn't be the first time since the coronation that Gideon had seen his uncle, but this was the first time he'd been officially summoned, and he felt he owed his uncle some sign of respect now that he was King.

  Gideon's leg was throbbing by the time he arrived at the King's residence, but it was the kind of pain he'd lived with his whole life, so he ignored it. The door to the King's Blue Drawing Room stood open, indicating he was expected.

  The Drawing Room was much larger than the sitting room in his parents' apartment, but the style was similar. Here the walls were a deep blue color and all seven paintings on display were of Queen Verity and King Lucius, Gideon's grandparents.

  King Killian stood behind a large desk made of a light colored wood. Gideon braced himself for the onslaught of emotions that always filled this room, regardless of who wore the crown.

  The King's face showed more age than the last time Gideon had seen him. Silver peeked through the otherwise chocolate brown hair, and there were lines around his eyes Gideon hadn't seen before.

  Still, the man was an imposing figure. Raised knowing he would be King one day, he carried himself with a confidence that was apparent even with Gideon's Ability muted.

  Josiah and Damien, Gideon's only male cousins, were also watching. Josiah was, officially, Exarch of the Realm, Killian's heir, and he rolled his eyes when he saw Gideon.

  With a sneer, he said, "It's about time you arrived. Some of us have better things to do than wait on you."

  "Like what?" Damien said. "I'm sure the kingdom can survive a few hours without you glowering at the people."

  Knight Prince Damien was Josiah's younger brother, and his presence here surprised Gideon. While Josiah stayed as close to the throne and the King as he could, Damien went out of his way to find reasons to be away from the palace.

  He had been raised as a backup heir to the throne. His mother hadn't paid him the same attention, nor made him attend the King's meetings and audiences from the time he was about ten years old.

  Because he was given a freedom Josiah never had, Damien had grown up less concerned with protocol and warfare. Instead, he'd turned his attention to women and drink.

  Gideon bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to limp as little as possible. He couldn't afford to show any weakness, at least no more than what he'd shown them his whole life.

  Since childhood, these two had let him know his deformities made him unfit to be with them, especially when they went out to learn to hunt and ride.

  Few people in the palace considered intellectual pursuits appropriate for a Prince of Heyton, a kingdom that prided itself on military might. Even now, he knew he was being judged as inferior.

  "Gideon, my boy," King Killian said, smiling and motioning for him to come into the room. "We're glad you're here."

  As he looked from his uncle to his cousins and back, Gideon felt like a timid winter cuscus approaching a possible trap.

  The small, nocturnal animals had good eyesight but their other senses were lacking to the point where they had no visible ears. Whenever they came upon an unknown object, they let out a high-pitched squeal that impaired the hearing of most predators.

  Gideon wondered, like the cuscus, if he was walking into a trap but, unfortunat
ely, he had no polite way of fending off his enemies.

  The last time a monarch had sent for him without his parents was when he was fourteen and had been caught kissing one of the kitchen wenches in the throne room twenty minutes before the Queen was to receive a delegation from some faraway country.

  Grandmother Verity was not pleased, and Gideon hadn't been allowed to attend the subsequent dinner.

  Remembering the pretty girl, who'd been fired without notice, and how she seemed to think he was as capable of some things as any other man, Gideon couldn't hold back a small smile.

  Josiah's eyes narrowed. "Something funny, Gideon?"

  "Perhaps he's just happy to be back in the bosom of his family." Damien leaned against the wall by a window, his arms crossed over his chest as he pretended to study the toes of his boots.

  Gideon bowed to the King, ignoring his cousins. "You sent for me, Your Majesty?"

  "Please, Gid. It's just family here. Come in and close the door."

  Gideon did as he was told, stifling the urge to wince every time he put weight on his left leg.

  The limp must have been more noticeable than he realized because his uncle waved toward one of the blue velvet chairs in front of the desk. "Please sit. Oh, of course, you too, Josiah. Damien."

  Sitting in the presence the King of Heyton was against protocol. Queen Verity never even allowed her grandchildren above the age of five years to do so. Gideon had always hated spending too much time with her because of this.

  Josiah's jaw clenched as he moved around the desk to a chair. Resentment and annoyance poured off him like water over rocks, in such force that Gideon was glad his Ability was muted. The Exarch believed Gideon got preferential treatment because of his disabilities, and Gideon was tired of feeling his cousin's anger.

  Uncle Killian was trying to be kind, but allowing Gideon to sit made his physical challenges more obvious. After spending five years at the University, where no one treated him any differently, he wished he could stand tall and refuse the chair.