Questionable Queen Read online

  However, he wasn't stupid enough to cause himself more pain and give Josiah something else to sneer about. He sat.

  "We have been meeting with a delegation from Valborough," the King said, "and we believe it's time to put some of the unfortunate incidents of the past behind us." He reached for a fresh strawberry from the bowl that always sat on the desk.

  "The Council of Ministers believes this," Josiah said. "The new Valborough Queen is a Chaos Sensitive, and those querulous old men want to roll over and show her our underbelly."

  "That's not precisely the case," Killian said, "but it would be sensible for us to make peace with our neighbors."

  "Make peace?" Gideon asked, scowling. "So, we're just ignoring how they burned the entire village of Clearlea, killing women and children?"

  Damien chuckled from the other side of the room. "Explain that one, Josie."

  Josiah glared at Damien. "I don't need to explain anything, brother. I am the Exarch, charged with commanding the King's forces."

  He turned to Gideon. "Hostilities with Valborough are over, Gideon. Clearlea was but one battle. Heyton won the war. However, I don't expect a scholar to understand how warfare and negotiation works."

  Gideon shifted in his seat to look at his cousin. "Then explain it to me, and be sure to speak slowly. Otherwise, I might be too stupid to follow you. After all, we all know the size of your..." He grinned. "...sword is directly proportional to the size of your brain."

  "I suppose that would mean something if you had ever touched a sword," Josiah snapped back.

  Gideon couldn't stop the chuckle that burst out of him. "I can assure you I have no interest in touching those kinds of swords."

  "Of course not." Josiah sneered. "You're a cripple and a coward."

  Gideon shook his head as Damien joined in the laughter. "Once again, you missed the joke, brother."

  "Boys," the King said. "There's no need for this. We have more important things to talk about."

  He still held the small red fruit in his fingers, rolling it around as he spoke. Gideon's eyes followed the almost hypnotic movement. "Josiah, your cousin is attending the University, so let's give him credit for being intelligent enough to understand the ways of the world."

  Gideon snapped his gaze back to his uncle's face. Did no one outside of his immediate family pay attention to him at all? "I'm finished at the university, Your Majesty."

  "Oh, Gideon. I knew you arrived home last night. We had hoped you'd be able to see this through. A university degree would have been a selling point to any of our allies." King Killian took a bite of strawberry, ignoring the juice that burst out and splattered on the desktop.

  As though I were a prized bull to be sold. Gideon sighed. "I did see it through. I received the official rank of Third Degree Elite Sensitive. I have also been offered a junior professorship, starting in a few months."

  "A few months?" Josiah said, scowling. "That's impossible." He faced the King. "That won't be enough time. You'll have to send someone else. Damien can go."

  "I've already offered," his brother said. "I'm more than happy to step in for Uncle Killian."

  "Not enough time for what? Go where?" Gideon glanced from one man to the other. "What are you talking about?"

  The King took a deep breath and threw the remains of his strawberry in a small barrel next to the desk. He brushed his hands together and said, "First of all, let us congratulate you on finishing your studies. We're quite proud of what you've accomplished. As you know, we've told your mother we always knew you'd be able to do great things."

  "Thank you, sire." Gideon forced himself to smile. No doubt Killian believed what he said, but Gideon knew, in reality, few people in the Palace thought he'd turn out to be anything more than a simpering courtier in the employ of some minor Princeling somewhere, shuffling papers back and forth on a desk.

  His grandmother had told his parents it was foolish to send him to the university because, as she said, "Noble women want a charming husband if they can't have a warrior. No one wants to marry a boring scholar who spends his time thinking about lofty ideas instead of about her."

  King Killian spoke again, bringing Gideon's attention back to the present. "Your cousin is correct about one thing. Diplomacy and warcraft are complicated things, but for the good of our kingdom, we believe it is time to put the past aside. We want you to accompany the delegation when they return to Valborough."

  "To what purpose?" Why him? He had no real authority.

  "As Josiah pointed out," the King said. "King Jonathan is no longer in power. His daughter, Mariana, has taken the throne. She is, indeed, a Chaos Sensitive."

  Gideon watched his uncle's face and saw a sheen of sweat on the older man's forehead. Given the room was cool and damp from the stone walls and high water table in this region, there was no reason for Killian to be overheated.

  The King was nervous, which Gideon could tell even without his Ability.

  Uncle Killian was afraid he wasn't strong enough to deal with Queen Mariana.

  "A Chaos Sensitive," Gideon said, nodding in understanding. "You want an alliance with Valborough because she could be a dangerous enemy."

  The calm, pleasant expression on the King's face faltered for just a moment. Then he took a deep breath and smiled again, but tight lines formed around his eyes.

  "It is always better to befriend your neighbors," King Killian said. "The war has been over for five years. It is long past time we were allies."

  "This is all commendable," Gideon said, noting how his uncle was careful not to disparage his mother's reign, "but I don't see what it has to do with me. I am not a diplomat, and, as Josiah has pointed out so eloquently, I'm not a warrior."

  He shrugged. "Send the Valborough delegation back with a treaty, and let me go back to the university."

  "It's not quite as simple as that." Killian stood and turned his back on his nephews, pretending to study the shelves of books that were, as far as Gideon knew, more for decoration than reading. "There's more to this than just a peace and trade treaty. Something that needs to be handled with delicacy."

  "Which is?" Gideon glanced at Josiah, who was annoyed about whatever Killian was talking about. His brow was so furrowed, Gideon wondered if it pained him.

  "Well." To his surprise, Uncle Killian was blushing when he faced the young men again. "Obviously, there's something missing from our kingdom and our palace."

  "Something missing?" Gideon frowned, thinking. The place seemed just as crowded as ever, not just with his extended family, but with all the young nobles who used the palace as a marriage market and the older men who wanted to be included in the King's innermost circle of advisors.

  "He means a Queen. He's planning to marry Princess Ursula of Valborough," Damien said, and Gideon understood Josiah's sour expression. If Uncle Killian married again and had a son, Josiah would lose his title as Exarch, which would go to the new heir.

  Suddenly, Gideon wanted to laugh. When they'd been boys in the schoolroom together, Josiah made it clear he was not only the oldest of the boys but one day he might be King. This fact kept the tutors from scolding him on more than one occasion.

  Now, with just a word from a Princess in Valborough, all of that status was in danger of being dissolved, like sugar in water.

  "I think it's wonderful you want to marry again, Uncle," Gideon said, "but why do I have to be the one to go? Wouldn't it be better if you presented your suit to the woman in question yourself?"

  "Until this treaty is finalized and signed, our life could be forfeit should we cross the border."

  "Fine," Gideon said. "Send Josiah. He's to be your heir, isn't he? At least for now. It would show them how seriously you take this proposal."

  "I can't go to Valborough," Josiah snapped. "The Anamii are coming onto our shores and raiding the fishing villages. We've had reports of four boats being vandalized in the last month. I'm taking a company of soldiers to see if we can put an end to this unrest."

  "An
d, that's not all," the King said. "If the Queen of Valborough and the Princess agree to this marriage, it would have to take place as quickly as possible. Until the kingdoms are united, it could be dangerous for her to travel here as well. Josiah is, well, there are those who would be happy to destroy any peace between our two nations. If they were to kill the Exarch..." The King's voice trailed off.

  "I understand." Gideon sighed. "Then what about Damien? Couldn't he go to Valborough and bring your bride? As brother of the Exarch, he would have more authority than I do."

  King Killian smirked. "Damien is an attractive young man and has a way with the ladies. It wouldn't do to have the Princess fall in love with the Proxy Groom instead of me." He blushed again.

  "Proxy Groom." Gideon stared at his uncle. "You're asking me to stand in for you at a proxy wedding?"

  "Of course. Didn't I make that clear?"

  "No. No, you didn't." Gideon struggled to his feet. "You want me to go because you don't think I'm attractive enough to get her attention. You aren't worried I'll run off with the Princess myself."

  "Think of it like this, Gideon." Now the King stood. "It's not that I don't think you could be attractive to a woman. It's that I trust you not to try to steal her away."

  "I see." What Gideon saw was that the King was, once again, saying the opposite of what he meant. He didn't think any woman would want to be with a Prince who had no chance of inheriting the throne or even being a Knight when she could marry a King.

  He dropped his eyes to study his shoes as thoughts whirled through his head. Suddenly, Uncle Killian clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  "I'm trusting you to bring my bride and our future Queen home. This is an honor, Gid. This isn't a task we can give just anyone, family or no. Our representative has to be someone we can trust to handle this mission with the delicacy it deserves. We can't afford to offend someone who could become a dangerous enemy. When you return with Princess Ursula, an estate and the title Duke of the Lakes will be yours."

  "Duke of the Lakes?" Josiah asked. "But that was to have been..." His voice trailed off, probably because he realized how it sounded.

  Uncle Killian scowled at him. "My titles are mine to give as I see fit, Josiah. You don't have to be in such a hurry to inherit everything that is mine. I have given you three of my titles and lands from my mother's family. Even should I have a son with the Princess, they are yours. Be careful that you and your mother don't put me in the ground too soon."

  "Of course, Your Majesty." Josiah bowed but he glared at Gideon.

  Killian spoke. "Do this for me, Gid. I need you."

  In spite of his annoyance at being seen as less than the others once again, Gideon heard sincerity in his uncle's voice. There was no substantial reason for him to refuse to do this for his uncle and his King.

  If he were successful, never again would his cousins be able to say he wasn't good enough or not a man. He'd hoped his university degree would bring the respect he so desired, but clearly, that was not going to happen. At least, he would have his own estate he could escape to when he wasn't at the university.

  "One more thing, Gideon." His uncle drew his attention and gaze back to himself. "Your ability to communicate through water will mean you can keep us apprised of every part of the discussions."

  And there it was. Gideon's hope disappeared. He hadn't been chosen because he could be trusted or because his wisdom and knowledge were respected. A parlor trick had been the deciding factor.

  He took a deep breath. What could he do?

  "I'll go to Valborough, I'll do the best I can for Heyton, but I still plan to leave before the winter term to teach at the university."

  "We have every faith in you," the King said, and Gideon left the Drawing Room.

  Chapter 2

  "Oh," Princess Ursula said as the building came into view around the corner, "the royal carpenters did an excellent job fixing up the barn. It looks like a proper school."

  The structure, which a few weeks before had been on the verge of collapse, now looked as though it was brand new. Metal Sensitives had reinforced the rafters, and Flora Sensitives had rejuvenated the wood to repair the rotting timbers.

  A fresh coat of white paint made the new school practically sparkle in the early autumn sunlight.

  However, it didn't matter how many Sensitives had worked on the school nor how pretty it was when they were finished. What mattered was what went on inside the building.

  While the whole kingdom had suffered during the war with Heyton which ended five years ago, this place, Aebrishire, being the closest city to the palace, had lost more men to Heyton's prisons than any other village or city in Valborough. Men who had never come home and whose fates, in most cases, were unknown.

  This school was Ursula's way of helping the families. She couldn't bring the men home, but she could provide an education for their children, and that would improve their lives.

  Her companion, Traren of Talla, First Advisor to Grand Prince Orlando, spoke. "I understand the Earth Sensitives helped with stabilizing the foundation. It had extensive damage."

  The Princess scowled and turned to him. "I wasn't aware of damage." She inspected the school.

  Why hadn't anyone told her about this? She couldn't expect the people to send their children to a school that could collapse. Hadn't they lost enough?

  "The Sensitives didn't know about it until the men started work," Traren said. "Don't worry, Highness. Everything's fine now."

  "I hope so. I want everything to be perfect. These children need something good in their lives."

  Traren put his hand on hers. "Let's hope they see it that way."

  She ignored his touch, even though she could feel his warmth through her glove. It was an improper action on his part. She was the Royal Princess, heir to the throne, at least until her sister gave birth. No one was allowed to touch her without her permission.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. "Why wouldn't they see it as a good thing?"

  Her heart began to pound. This was what she'd worked toward for the last six months. It had to go well, because she had no other ideas to help the prisoners' families.

  Before Traren could respond, the large brass bell hanging near the front door began to ring. Ursula saw Lady Elodie, the minor noblewoman she'd hired as the schoolteacher, pulling on the rope.

  Elodie was Ursula's mother's age, with brown hair that was beginning to turn gray and eyes so dark they were nearly black. Her short stature showed she enjoyed cooking and eating.

  The woman had never had any children of her own, but all her neighbors in the village outside the palace told Ursula every child who knew her accepted Elodie as a faux grandmother.

  As she rang the bell now, a small crowd of children rushed toward the building. Most were dressed in ragged but clean clothing, probably the only ones they owned.

  One boy with red hair and freckles wore a shirt that might have belonged to an older brother or perhaps his father. The sleeves were rolled up past his wrists, but his hands still were lost in the folds of fabric. His pant legs were also rolled up, but the bottoms still dragged in the mud.

  Ursula watched him, wondering which of his male relatives was still in a Heyton prison. Whoever it was, would he be surprised at how much time the little boy had taken with his hair? It was wet and combed with a part on the side. Did this child have occasion to spare so much attention to his appearance or was this unusual?

  Ursula reminded herself to talk to her mother's charity, the Society to Help the Poor, about getting new clothes for these children. In fact, most of the prisoners' children could use help in that area.

  Then, she realized the number of children filing into the school was by far smaller than the total number in the village. She and Traren had gone to most of the homes to tell the families about the school.

  While few mothers promised to send their children, none had stated outright their children would not be there. Why were so few here now?

  "Everyo
ne knew the school would open today, didn't they?" she asked.

  "Yes, Your Highness," Traren said, still holding the reins. "I sent my men out to remind them last week."

  Then he grinned and jerked his chin toward a group of five young men who were loitering around the schoolhouse door, watching her. "I think it's time we left. Your presence could be distracting, especially to some of those boys. Not that I blame them, but if you want them to learn to read and write, perhaps they'd have a better chance if they didn't have a pretty Princess to distract them."

  She rolled her eyes. Ever since Mariana had become Queen and brought her husband's commoner friends into the palace as advisors, Ursula had been forced to get used to harmless flirtations with men like Traren, who, just a year ago, would have been imprisoned for even talking to her.

  The most surprising thing to the Princess was that, after a while, not only did she not mind the banter, she found herself enjoying it.

  As they drove away from the school, they passed a farm where a woman was gathering pumpkins from the field and putting them in a small wheelbarrow a young boy pushed beside her.

  "Stop," Ursula said to Traren, and when he did, she called, "Caroline, hello."

  The woman stood, pushed her black hair off her face, but she didn't say anything. The little boy called, "Hello, Princess."

  "Can I help you?" Caroline said, finally. "As you can see, I have a lot of work left to do this morning." She waved her hand to encompass the whole field. Pumpkins could be seen dotting the dark green background.

  "I was surprised your children aren't at the school. Did you forget it opened today?" Ursula smiled, but Caroline didn't return the gesture.

  "I did remember, but it is nothing to us. The harvest needs to be brought in more than those kids need to be sitting at a table listening to some noble woman talking about stuff they'll never need."