22

  The Queen

  She was breathtakingly beautiful, the kind of beauty you only heard about in stories, never actually saw with your own eyes. The single thought echoed through Adam’s mind as he stared at the woman more deeply now with the rush of adrenaline finally fading. And she wasn’t just any woman; she was the Queen. Her long silver hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, gleaming with the same color of the moonlight, and her violet eyes seemed almost luminous, framed by thick, long lashes. A small, perfectly straight nose led to soft, pink lips, their natural curve almost warm and friendly, if not for the hint of calculation behind them. Her jaw was elegantly sculpted, flowing into the long, graceful frame of her neck. She was stunning, not seductive; she didn’t radiate any overt sensuality, her bust and curves were hidden beneath the silk nightgown she wore. She was simply so beautiful that everything around her seemed dull and uninteresting by comparison.

  There were countless stories on Earth about sailors who were lost at sea after being enchanted by sirens, and whenever Adam heard them, he always thought that the men who succumbed to them deserved what they got, but now he understood it. There was an almost magnetic pull about her, like she was the only thing that existed in the world. It was hard to resist, but he did. Despite her allure, Adam didn’t let it cloud his judgment. His senses warned him that she was dangerous, perhaps more so than anything he’d ever faced, and her appearance itself seemed like a weapon she used to deceive or ensnare. Worse still, there was keen intelligence and cunning burning brightly inside her eyes.

  The way she was watching him, with that calmness from earlier, as though she might learn all his secrets if she just stared long enough, it was a little unsettling. He’d never met anyone able to hold eye contact as long as she did, and he fought the instinct to look away from her gaze. It felt as though she was studying him, no… not felt, that was precisely what she was doing. From the moment he’d broken into her chamber, she’d been studying him.

  “You were never asleep, were you?” Adam asked finally, his voice low.

  She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she moved gracefully to a small table close to her bed and took one of the seats. “I was curious about your intentions,” she said finally in a soft voice. “Whether you’d try to assassinate me… or capture me.” An amused smile curved her lips once more. “All the while, you didn’t even know who I was.”

  So, it had been a test, that didn’t surprise him too much. But what had given her the assurance that she wouldn’t be harmed by him? What made her so calm and confident even now? She definitely wasn’t na?ve enough to leave herself defenseless, and simply trust the intentions of an armed stranger while alone in her room. Adam threw a subtle glance around the room, and once again, he saw that they were alone. The only other explanation was that she had magic, and it had to be incredibly powerful for her to have such belief in herself.

  “And if I’d been here to assassinate you?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

  She lifted her shoulders in a soft, elegant shrug. “Then we would not be having this conversation,” she replied. “Fortunately for both of us, that was never your intention.”

  That was a coy answer. If he had been here to kill her, then it was simply a statement of fact that they wouldn’t be having this conversation. But whether it was because he would have succeeded in taking her life, or because he’d be dead, was the part she left out.

  The answer could be either, but somehow, he sensed that the latter was more likely.

  “What do you want? Why did you help me?” Adam stepped closer to the table.

  She watched him approach without the slightest tension in her posture. “What I want is not something you can easily offer,” she said. “But I am very curious about you.”

  Curious? His jaws clenched. Did she already know about him? That wouldn’t shock him, given all he’d already guessed about her. “Why?” His eyes tightened in suspicion.

  “I suppose you could call it… fascination,” she replied.

  Adam regarded her for a moment, trying to fit the scattered pieces of the night into some kind of order. First, he had found the Hand of the King dead. Not wanting to take the fall for it, he had fled and ended up here, face-to-face with a woman who, he realized a few minutes ago, was the Queen. Her decision to help him before she knew anything had been strange, but stranger still was her reaction when she learned what had happened. After the guards had broken the news of the Hand’s death to her, she had seemed quite shocked, and he’d even feared that she might report him after all. But she hadn’t, and now, only moments later, it was as if the man’s death meant nothing at all. There was none of the shock he had witnessed earlier, no subdued sorrow, no anger. There was simply nothing.

  Even if she’d secretly loathed the man and couldn’t mourn his death, he expected at least the shock aspect to remain. A loss like that must shake things up politically, and she had to be aware of that as the Queen. Yet she didn’t even seem mildly concerned. The only explanation that made sense was if she already knew it would happen, and that would mean she’d been involved in it. He didn’t bother asking himself if someone like her was capable of sanctioning a murder, she was, a hundred and ten percent she was.

  But if she’d been involved in it, why protect him? Why not allow the guards capture an easy suspect to save herself any future trouble? Unless she wanted something important from him? Again, he wondered if she already knew about him before this meeting.

  “Fascination?” Adam said finally and shifted to lean sideways against a wall. “You know what I think is really fascinating... you.” For the first time ever, he saw real emotion break through, surprise flashing across her face as his tone grew sharper, more cutting. She might be a queen, she might be beautiful and deadly, but he wasn’t one of her subjects, and he didn’t scare easily. Besides, he was too tired to keep walking on eggshells. “You’ve just heard the Hand is dead. Earlier, you pretended to be shocked, now it doesn’t seem like it’s even a concern. You don’t even care that you might be speaking to his killer.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Were you his killer?“ she asked.

  “I wish I was, but when I found him he was already dead,” Adam answered honestly after a brief consideration. He knew that he’d just admitted to infiltrating the castle to kill the Hand of the King, but at this point he didn’t think that it mattered. “Someone else beat me to it… probably someone here, in the castle.” His gaze never wavered from hers as the words parted from his mouth, and it was enough to get the point across.

  Another flash of surprise ran across her face as she caught his veiled accusation, but she quickly smoothed her expression back into a blank mask that revealed nothing at all of the thoughts going through her head. Adam’s last words just floated unanswered in the air for a moment as she stared at him with those piercing eyes, just studying him, calculating, as though he was a new kind of human she’d never encountered before. Then, after several seconds of heavy, thoughtful silence, she found her voice once again.

  “I’m quite surprised,” she said slowly and tilted her head. “First, you pointed your sword at me, a grave offense. Many would have groveled and begged for forgiveness, but you did not. Instead, you carry on as though it were nothing.” A faint, curious smile curved her lips. “And now you speak to me so casually, even going so far to accuse me of a horrible deed.” Her eyes stayed on him, bright with interest rather than anger. “You are bold.”

  Adam shrugged at her words. “I’m full of surprises. Besides, I didn’t accuse you of anything. I just don’t think attending dinner parties is all you get up to.”

  She let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh and leaned back into her seat. “Dinner parties, you say? They’re delightful,” she responded in a light voice. “You get to hear such interesting things… like a strange boy who’s been causing all sorts of problems.” She gave him a pointed look, her smile stretching just a little wider… only a little.

  That answered his question, she did know about him before this meeting. The only thing left to figure out now was how. Given her utter lack of concern over the Hand’s death, he doubted they had been friends or even allies. Maybe rivals? That would certainly explain how she could know about him by observing her competition, and it also gave more weight to his suspicion that she might have been the one to actually kill him.

  “As for your insinuation,” she continued, her voice still calm but now edged with a certain sharpness. “I had no hand in Lothar’s death. He was a despicable worm, and I cared little for him, but crushing a single worm amounts to nothing when the rotting corpse that continuously breeds them still exists. Though, with how thoroughly he’d sullied himself, I always suspected his end would come soon enough. It was inevitable.”

  It was the first time she’d spoken without pretense, and he sensed it was a calculated return for his own open admission about sneaking into the castle to kill the Hand. Still, he believed her. A lie here would serve her no purpose.

  “Do you know who killed him? What he was involved in?” Adam asked.

  From the way she spoke, she obviously knew the answers to his questions. And the metaphor she’d chosen—worms, a rotting corpse—wasn’t careless. It suggested that there was something larger festering just beneath the surface, something that had made the Hand what he was… perhaps even controlled him. It couldn’t be the King. If everything Elsa had told him was correct, the man was weak, he had no interest whatsoever in ruling.

  Several other possibilities raced through Adam’s mind. It could be a cabal of corrupt nobles pulling strings from the shadows. The Knight Order? That might explain why Julius worked with the Hand, and there was also the Church, with its secrecy and quiet authority.

  “Perhaps,” she replied to his question after a moment.

  Adam frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps?”

  She gave no response to him, only smiled faintly and let the silence stretch between them as she began studying him again. Their brief exchange of honesty was over it seemed, and he realized then that she had been clever with what she revealed. She could have simply denied any involvement in the man’s death, but she’d gone further, planting thoughts of an even larger conspiracy in his mind, enough to pique his curiosity, perhaps to draw him in.

  Damn… she was good. Exactly what he’d always imagined queens to be.

  Adam pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and moved toward the table where she was seated, resting his arms on the back of a chair as he leaned forward.

  “What do you want from me?” Adam asked slowly.

  “As I already told you, to satisfy my curiosity,” she said. “You’re quite fascinating.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” he said, the words coming out even, thoughtful. “But the Hand is dead, the same night I snuck into the castle. That makes me the obvious suspect, it doesn’t matter whether I did or not, yet you’re hiding me. If that’s discovered, there’ll likely be consequences, serious ones. You expect me to believe you’re risking all that out of simple curiosity? Fascination?” He gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

  She tilted her head. “Then what do you think?” she asked.

  “I think you want something,” Adam answered carefully. “Something worth risking treason for. And right now, you’re deciding whether I might help you get it.”

  There was a prolonged silence as she watched him with a cold stare. Adam knew he wasn’t wrong in his assessment, she clearly wanted something. But as Queen, she probably preferred things to be more subtle, and he’d just called it out directly and openly.

  “It seems you’re not only bold, but clever as well,” she replied. “You’re right, I do want something. As for whether you might be of any help to me… we shall see.”

  “You don’t even know me besides whatever you’ve heard.”

  “That is true,” she said. “But it takes a rare kind of boldness to infiltrate a castle in attempt to murder the Hand of the King. Determination, as well. I admire that.” Her gaze held his. “And your cleverness… you’d be surprised how uncommon that is.”

  “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not for hire,” Adam responded. He had no interest in whatever political games were unfolding. There might be a larger conspiracy at work, but his fight had been with the King’s Hand, and with the man dead, he hoped his troubles would end there so he could finally move on to more important things.

  In the back of his mind, Adam knew it might not be that easy. If the Hand had truly been controlled, then whatever group had been pulling his strings would know about him, and they would know about the attacks, as well as all the people he cared for.

  This might only end when they were all dead…

  Either way, he wasn’t about to work for her. They might share enemies—she clearly despised the shadowed group, referring to them as a rotting corpse, and that might be why she’d even hinted at it in the first place—but he didn’t intend to become hers to command.

  He wouldn’t become her blade, if that was what she wished.

  “As I said,” she replied smoothly. “We shall see.”

  Why did that sound like he wouldn’t have a choice?

  “Tell me, why did you come this night to kill the Hand of the King?” she asked. “I am aware you caused complications for him, but what drove you to this?”

  He hesitated. For someone who seemed to know so much, it was a bit surprising she didn’t know everything, and he wasn’t about to enlighten her now. If he revealed that the Hand had attacked those close to him, she might only latch onto the fact that he had people he cared for. It was like facing a shark in water, he felt as though she would smell his blood the moment he let anything slip. He couldn’t drop his guard, not even for a second.

  Adam shrugged. “He was evil, so I thought I’d do some public good.”

  “With how weary you seem,” she said, eyes narrowing. “I’d wager it wasn’t merely escaping the guards that wore you down. You were tired even before you set foot in the castle, and yet it didn’t deter you. That kind of persistence is rarely born from just duty or justice alone. It’s… emotional.” Her voice dropped lower. “This was personal.”

  “Is it?” Adam asked, keeping his voice controlled while his mind fumed. She was too fucking intelligent. Nothing could slip past her.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  She rose to her feet, and he straightened as she came to stand before him. She was shorter than he was, barely reaching below his shoulder, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. Standing close, her beauty hit him like a beam of light, he couldn’t see a single flaw in her skin, not one imperfection. How could anyone be so… perfect?

  “You do not trust me,” she said, stating it as a fact rather than a question. “That is a wise decision. Truthfully, I would think less of you if you did. Still, know that I do not intend to become your enemy. And if you cannot believe my words, then believe my intent; I would gain nothing from it.” Her voice was firm and steady as she spoke.

  Adam heard her words, but they made no real impact. He couldn’t bring himself to trust her at all. A warning echoed in his mind; never make a deal with the devil, not that he believed she was one. And yet… she gave the impression of someone who would stab him in the back without hesitation, then claim they didn’t need to be enemies for her to kill him.

  “If you don’t intend to be my enemy, then what do you intend?”

  She smiled softly. “Everything in due course,” she said, then threw a glance toward the balcony door. “It seems things have finally settled down. You should return home and get some needed rest, but I’d like us to continue this conversation another time.”

  At her words, Adam calmed down and listened. The bells had really stopped tolling, and the rumble of guards rushing through the castle had ceased, but he’d been too engrossed in their conversation, too captivated by her, to notice anything. It seemed that as hard as he fought against the magnetic pull of her presence, he was still affected by it.

  Adam glanced back at her. “I don’t suppose you have a secret passage?” he asked.

  “Nero,” she called silently.

  Shock gripped Adam as a hooded figure suddenly shimmered into existence behind the Queen, and as they drew back their hood, his shock deepened. It wasn’t just a figure, it was a woman, or rather, an elf. The long ears protruding out of her cropped white hair clued him in immediately. But she wasn’t anything like the “fair elven maidens” he’d read about in stories, or seen in the movies, no… she was different. Her skin was a smooth, ashen gray, almost metallic in the candlelight, and broken only by a thin scar that cut through one eyebrow. Her lips were a darker shade of the gray, same as her brows, and her eyes were a deep, piercing red he’d never imagined on a person, seeming to glow from within.

  He knew that other races existed in this world. Lorelei was demi-human, Elliot as well, and he’d seen a few others about. But he was still astounded by the elf’s presence, it was like it further drove in the reality that he was in a proper fantasy world. Her appearance was… he couldn’t use beautiful, or even cute, the words felt too soft to describe her, though she was intensely good-looking. She was just striking, almost unreal, even as her features were twisted by the dark, near-murderous expression hardening her face.

  Where had she come from? It was as if she’d just materialized out of thin air. Some kind of stealth skill? Like his own? No, he doubted it. The reaction of the men he had killed in the alley made that clear; they hadn’t encountered anything like his ability. He simply ceased to exist, becoming a shadow that stretched wherever darkness fell. But hers… hers seemed different. She likely still existed, just slipped beyond the sight of ordinary eyes. He wondered if he would be able to sense her if he used shadow-warp… probably.

  Either way, it was great he realized this. He was aware that there were other types of stealth abilities, but it was his first time seeing one. He could learn how it worked.

  Adam turned his attention back to the Queen and caught her eyes on him, seeming a little pleased by his reaction. No wonder she had been so calm about the whole thing. She had never been vulnerable, not for a second. While he held a sword to her throat, there was a dagger aimed at his back the whole time. Did she have any more surprises?

  “Nero is D?kkálfar, or Dark Elf,” the Queen said as she returned to her seat. “Given how shocked you appear, I take it you haven’t met one before?”

  Adam shook his head. “No,” he answered.

  “I suppose that’s not too strange, it’s widely known that they don’t tend to make too many friends. But Nero and I share a bit of history, and she’s sworn herself to me.”

  “I see.” Adam nodded, though he wondered why she was telling him.

  “Nero, see that he leaves the castle safely,” the Queen ordered.

  The dark elf who had been standing silently and watching him the entire time with anger clear in her features, finally moved, giving a nod. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice light, and surprisingly softer than her appearance hinted. He hadn’t expected it.

  Adam murmured his thanks to the Queen and followed the elf across the chamber until she stopped at a shelf set against the wall. Despite her dainty size, she pushed, sliding the large structure aside to reveal a narrow door hidden behind it. Then, she pulled the door open, exposing the dark passage beyond and stepping inside without a word to him.

  “Wait,” the Queen’s voice called as he began to follow.

  Adam glanced back and saw her watching him from her seat, calm as ever.

  “Before you leave, I wish to know your name.”

  He hesitated for only a second. Lying felt pointless. “Adam,” he answered.

  She smiled faintly and gave a nod, as if filing the information away for later. “I’ll be sure to remember it,” she said just loud enough to reach him.

  Something about the way she said it made him think she meant more than just his name, but he didn’t question her, he just turned away and entered the passage. It was like an underground tunnel inside, lit by a row of torches hanging along the walls.

  The dark elf led the way without speaking. Adam was curious about her, and the stealth ability she had used earlier, but asking her any questions would have been a waste of energy as she likely wouldn’t answer. For some reason, she seemed to detest him, and he honestly didn’t even care enough to wonder why. As long as she did what her Queen had ordered and led him out of the castle, they didn’t need to have a conversation.

  He would find another way to learn what he needed…

  The path they followed twisted through several stone corridors. It felt like a maze, but that made sense when he considered that it was probably an escape route for the royal family if the castle was ever breached, and designed to confuse anyone who didn’t know it well. They could easily lose anyone in pursuit. It was a clever system.

  Eventually, they reached a heavy iron gate at the end of a passage. The elf stopped suddenly, and Adam took one more step before realizing she had, and that was his only warning. In a blur of motion, she spun around, seized the front of his shirt, and slammed him hard against the gate. The metal rattled behind him, and before he could even think to react, a dagger flashed into her hand and pressed tight against his throat.

  Her red eyes locked onto his, her breathing slow. “If you ever so much as point a finger at Her Majesty again,” she warned in a low, menacing voice. “I will carve out your cock and feed it to you, then I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”

  That was a rather explicit threat…

  Adam held her gaze, cold, unflinching. With the way she held him, he could tell that she wasn’t very strong, and though she was fast, Elsa was much faster. If he wasn’t so tired he might be tempted to try and flip the situation, pin her body against the gate and press the dagger to her throat, maybe even draw a little blood. But he didn’t have that in him right now, and mostly he just wanted this fucking night to be over.

  “Were you listening?” he asked evenly.

  She shook her head in confusion. “What?”

  “Our conversation, were you listening in on it?” Adam asked again.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Adam sighed deeply. “She doesn’t want to become my enemy, so I have no reason or desire to become hers either. Please don’t make that change,” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve killed enough people tonight. I just want to go to bed.”

  Her grip tightened for a second longer, like she was fighting the urge to do more than threaten him, and also worrying about potential consequences if she did. She might not know what he could do, but he had infiltrated the castle to kill the Hand of the King, so obviously he was capable, and his threat wasn’t just idle. Did she want to go against her Queen’s wishes and make him their enemy? Coming to a decision, she withdrew the dagger as quickly as it had appeared and then she stepped back from him.

  Without another word, she turned and pulled the lever beside the gate and the iron bars began to lift with a low grind. “Straight down, it’ll lead you outside the castle,” she muttered, seeming to almost force the words out of her mouth.

  Adam said nothing. He just walked past her.

  ***

  “I hope you were not rough with him, Nero?”

  The chamber was quiet and empty when Minerva asked the question, but she knew that she wasn’t alone. Nero had returned. Her stealth, a blessing granted by Lady Valantis, goddess of shrouds and mists, cloaked as completely as fog veils the earth. Only the most skilled could sense her dark elf bodyguard, but after the many years they had spent together, Minerva had learned to perceive her. Even without any magical talent to help her, she had trained herself to notice the faintest distortion in the air and the slightest shift in temperature whenever her bodyguard was near. It had become almost instinctual to her now.

  Nero dispelled her invisibility, standing in front of her. “I wasn’t.”

  Minerva set down the parchment she’d been reading and raised her head, arching a perfect brow. “Nero,” she said simply, knowing the dark elf wasn’t telling her the truth.

  “I only warned him against threatening you again,” she said.

  Minerva sighed, not in disappointment or anger, just plain acceptance. An apology would have to be made to the boy. She had half expected this to happen when she’d ordered the dark elf to see him safely out of the castle, though she’d wished that it wouldn’t. Nero was completely devoted to her, and Minerva knew it had taken the dark elf every ounce of control she possessed not to attack the boy when he’d had his sword to her throat.

  “You put yourself at risk, Your Majesty,” Nero said. “That boy was... is dangerous.”

  The boy, Adam. He wasn’t what Minerva had expected. After the abducted children were freed, she had learned that the “problem” plaguing the Hand’s operation was a strange boy who had only just arrived in the kingdom. Minerva had been interested in looking into him, but it seemed that fate moved faster than she did. With the commotion waking up the entire castle, Nero had spotted him before he ever made his way to her balcony, and it took no effort on Minerva’s part to connect the appearance of the boy running on the roof with the strange boy she’d been hearing about. Even so, she needed to be certain that he wasn’t just a senseless killer on the loose, and that was the purpose of the sleeping test.

  Thankfully, he had proven to be reasonable. The real surprise came when they spoke for the first time. For some reason, she had expected someone… different, someone a little more heroic perhaps. But the boy, Adam, he didn’t seem like that at all.

  Minerva didn’t need her bodyguard to tell her, she already recognized that he was dangerous, and it wasn’t only his skill with a blade or whatever magic he might possess that made her see it. His mind was sharp—perhaps even too sharp—and the grim, relentless determination that drove him slightly scared her. Sneaking into the castle while exhausted, simply to kill the King’s Hand was proof enough of his character. He wasn’t someone she would like to have as an enemy, and the decision to make that clear to him had been easy.

  She hoped he would recognize her sincerity there….

  “I am aware of that, Nero,” Minerva replied.

  The dark elf pushed. “Then allow me to train more suitable protection for you? You cannot rely on the royal guard, they’ve proven how useless they are… again.”

  Minerva let out a breath as the dark elf revisited the old topic, one they argued about near constantly. Nero argued for more security around her. The royal guard that protected the castle apparently didn’t meet her standards, and she never missed the chance to criticize them. No matter their efforts, it was just never enough in her eyes. Minerva knew that she wasn’t doing so to be difficult, the dark elf was probably an expert on the matter of security given her past life of breaching into secure places. Still, Minerva didn’t budge once on her decision, having more people watch her every step didn’t appeal to her at all.

  “I don’t rely on them, Nero, I rely on you,” Minerva said calmly, fixing her stare on her oldest companion. “Will you continue to protect and defend me?”

  “With my life,” Nero declared. “But I am one person.”

  Minerva smiled fondly. “You’re enough. I trust only you in this world.”

  Muttering a word in Elvish—one Minerva had learned was a vividly obscene curse and wouldn’t dream to explain to anyone—her dark elf bodyguard conceded defeat in yet another battle of wills between them. She retreated to the corner of the room and dropped into a chair, drawing one of her daggers to clean it, as she often did when she was annoyed, irritated, or just generally displeased. Right now, it seemed to be all three of those.

  Minerva watched the dark elf for a long moment, the fond smile still resting on her lips as she did. Life was strange in the most unexpected of ways; the woman who had once been sent to end her life was now her sworn protector, her closest confidante, and her most dear friend. How it had begun seemed so distant now—back when she’d been a carefree princess, before her father had given her hand, before she’d married the king of this once-foreign kingdom and taken her place as its Queen. Still, she was quite glad for it.

  “Did you sense anything with your gift… with him?” Nero asked after a while of sulking, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

  Her “gift,” as the elf called it, was the ability to sense a person’s potential. It wasn’t magic, she possessed no magic at all, not even the faintest trace, and it wasn’t a power that could be described as foresight. It was simply an instinctive understanding of what people were and what they might be able to become. She had sensed Nero’s potential the night the elf had come to kill her; not just an enslaved assassin bound to a cruel master, but someone who could someday break those chains and be at her side, free, loyal, and even happy. The gift had served her then, and it had proven invaluable in her role as Queen.

  But what she sensed in Adam was different. His potential was vast, too volatile. It was entirely unprecedented, unlike anything she had ever sensed before, she couldn’t fully grasp it. All she knew was that he could bring change to the kingdom, to the world. Whether that change would be one of prosperity or utter catastrophe, Minerva had no idea, and for the first time since discovering her gift, she couldn’t even guess which way the scale would tip. It was a truly terrifying force… but it also glimmered with possibilities.

  “I did,” Minerva said finally. “It was… different, unclear.”

  Nero looked up from her dagger. “Is that good or bad?” she questioned.

  “I don’t know.” Minerva answered hesitantly.

  The dark elf gave a slow nod and returned to wiping her dagger. “Are you sure you want to proceed with whatever plan you have in mind concerning him?” she asked.

  “I am still in consideration,” Minerva said, her thoughts drifting to the boy, the threat he posed, the possibilities he presented, and the potential he carried.

  “I would prefer we have nothing to do with him,” Nero said unprompted. “Beyond the danger he poses, I simply do not like him. He spoke to you as if you were equals.”

  That much was true, Minerva acknowledged. He hadn’t once addressed her with the proper formalities, nor had he shown any deference. Still, she sensed that it wasn’t born of malice, like those in the kingdom who dismissed her as a foreign Queen. He simply didn’t care that she was a queen at all, it was like the fact didn’t register the way it did others.

  It was the strangest thing…

  “I find his boldness rather refreshing,” Minerva said.

  Nero snorted, but she offered no further response, and Minerva chuckled softly. The threats and the lack of respect Adam had shown were reason enough for Nero’s dislike, but there was another factor as well, once much simpler—he was male. Nero had always been unabashedly biased, favoring women in every single thing, even for bed partners… though given her past, it was not surprising. Minerva, on the other hand, neither liked nor disliked him. But she was undeniably fascinated, and she had made no secret of it.

  He was bold, intelligent, a bit too intense, but that was fine. He was also seemingly unaffected by her appearance, as so many others were. That alone had earned her respect, though it was a little hypocritical, considering how taken she was with his appearance.

  He was quite pleasing to look at….

  ***

  Adam was on his last legs when he reached the safe house. It had been over an hour since he escaped the castle, and almost all of that time had been spent trying to locate the place again. Even using the burned-down inn as a landmark, it hadn’t been easy.

  Now that he’d found it, he felt no sense of joy or triumph, he was just too tired. He didn’t think anything short of a bed would excite him at this point. Heck, even a patch of smooth ground and something vaguely pillow-shaped would do. It felt like he hadn’t slept in days, and he hadn’t, not properly at least. Between his constant movement to control the expected attack, and everything that had happened tonight… or was it morning now?

  He didn’t know, didn’t care. His mind was already starting to shut down.

  Elliot was at the door, keeping guard, and as Adam approached, the knight lifted his head sharply, shifting into full alertness. Adam didn’t have the desire nor energy to get into anything with him right now. The knight had opposed him killing the King’s Hand, and for a time Adam had even suspected he plotted against him. But it was clear now Elliot hadn’t done anything. There had been no traps waiting at the castle, and given how cleanly he had escaped, the idea that the Hand’s death was set up to frame him had lost its weight. His presence in the man’s office at that exact time had most likely been coincidence.

  Adam reached the door, and though there was curiosity on the knight’s face, he said nothing, just stepped aside to let him through. Adam walked past him, but as he placed his hand on the knob to push the door open, he stopped and glanced back.

  “I didn’t kill him…” Adam said, “He was already dead when I got there.”

  He didn’t wait to hear Elliot’s response, he just stepped inside. Whether the knight believed him or not was none of his concern. He didn’t care. He shut the door behind him, and a brief surprise hit him when he found Lorelei still awake. She raised her head as she heard the sound of the door closing and rose from a chair, approaching him.

  “I couldn’t sleep… I was waiting for you to return,” she said.

  Adam tried to respond, but words didn’t come to his head. He managed half a step toward her, then the room tilted and his knee buckled.

  “Adam—” Lorelei moved faster than he’d ever seen her, and caught him under the arms just as his weight gave out. He was dimly aware of how small she felt compared to him, but still she held on stubbornly, refusing to let him crash to the floor.

  “I’m… fine,” he lied, already fading.

  “You can barely stand.”

  Lorelei helped him down to the floor, lowering him carefully so he wouldn’t fall or hit the ground hard. Once he was sitting, she unbuckled the sword at his hip and set it aside. Then she shifted and gently guided him onto his back, easing his head into her lap.

  “Katryn waited for you as well,” she said. “She’s with her mother now.”

  “I see…” he mumbled out. His eyes were already closing, breath heavy and uneven as Lorelei brushed his hair back from his face, her fingers moving slowly, soothingly.

  She hesitated, then spoke again. “Is it… over?” she asked softly.

  “I hope so…” Those were his final words before he lost all consciousness.

  The long night was finally over…

  ***********