Page 31 of The Half King
Cerise delicately touched her hair. “Thank you.”
“No, thankyou. I could have died today.” Delora released another quiet cough and then shook her head. “And to think that I became the king’s courtesan because I believed it would save me.”
“Save you?” Cerise blinked. “Save you from what?”
“That’s a story for another day. I’m quite tired, my lady. I hope you don’t mind if I excuse myself.”
Cerise stood from her chair and gave a farewell nod. A small part of her wondered if Delora was exhausted from the dream weed…or if she had finally conceived the king’s heir.
Instead of asking, Cerise said, “Rest well, Lady Champlain.”
8
Daerick arrived at Cerise’s suite shortly after the departure of Lady Champlain.
“Your hair looks like a work of art,” Daerick exclaimed with a smile as Cerise opened the door and welcomed him into the sitting room. But when his gaze found the breakfast table, his eyes widened, his mouth formed a perfect oval, and he murmured, “But this…this is a masterpiece.”
Cerise laughed. “Help yourself. If I eat another bite, I might burst.”
“Well then, I must remove the temptation of these delicacies from your sight and spare you from bursting.”
“You’re such a gentleman.”
“I am, aren’t I?” he said while filling a plate with salted meats and eggs. “I’m saving your life with this selfless act.” He grinned and teasingly fanned his eyes. “I’m getting misty. Is this how it feels to be a hero, Cerise?”
She laughed again and poured him a cup of tea. “I’m no hero.”
“That’s not what everyone in the palace is saying.” Fluttering his lashes, Daerick mimicked a maiden’s high voice.“Did you hear about the king’s emissary? She walked through fire to save a dozen men, and then she put out the flames with the power of her mind!”
“I thought it was the power of my prayers.”
“Yes, I heard that version, too,” Daerick said, adding several pastries to the rim of his plate. “There’s another one claiming that you blew out the flames with your sacred lungs. That one is my favorite.”
“My sacred lungs?” she repeated. “It seems I’m more talented than I thought. When I’m finished becoming a legendary emissary and helping you break the noble curses, I think I’ll use my spare time to conquer death.”
“You should invent a male enhancement while you’re at it.” With a grin, Daerick added, “Not that I need one. I’m only thinking of my less fortunate brethren.”
“How saintly of you.”
“It’s true. Not even Father Padron can match my piety.”
Father Padron.
She’d been so distracted by the morning’s events that she had forgotten to tell Daerick about her visit to the catacombs. While Daerick sat at the table and devoured his breakfast, she paced the sitting room and relayed the story to him, starting with Father Bishop’s open hostility toward her in the prayer room and ending with a description of the antechamber she had visited and the half footprint near the wall.
Daerick frowned and blotted his mouth with a silk napkin. “Are you sure the imprint wasn’t made by something else? Furniture or a walking stick?”
She slid him a dirty look. “I may not have sacred lungs, but I can recognize a boot print when I see one.”
“Did you confront Father Padron about it?”
“Of course not.” Now he was just insulting her intelligence. She was a novice at court, but not when it came to matters of the Order. She knew better than to accuse the high priest of lying to her.
“Good,” he said, seemingly oblivious to his own patronization. “Are you certain that Father Padron doesn’t know thatyouknow about the hidden chamber?”
“I’m certain.”
“Then don’t do anything to change that. We need him to believe he fooled you. He hid the antechamber for a reason. Whatever he’s keeping in there, he’s willing to lie to protect it. And if he’s willing to lie, we have to assume he’s willing to do more than that to stop you from finding it.”
