Page 12 of Queen’s Gambit

Chapter 4

Roksana

Istared at the bright, colourful mosaic. Reynard’s office, with its stained-glass window, had a calm ambience that relaxed the tense muscles in my shoulders. Then the Palace Chamberlain shuffled through the invitations, reminding me why my shoulders were tense in the first place, and looked up at me, waiting for a decision.

‘Put the Orc Chieftain and his men between the Care’etavos and Dagome nobles,’ I said, and he opened his mouth to protest. ‘Look, if you place them anywhere near Lumivitae, those uptight bastards will take offence at the first brazen word. You really don’t want to be in the same room when the fae’s arrogance and the orc’s code of honour clash.’

He nodded, muttering under his breath and placing a card on the seating plan for the ball’s official dinner. Rey had left the arrangements to me, claiming my Brotherhood past and spy network would best serve to prevent our guests from killing each other. Now I wished he’d frozen his backside for leaving me to manage the court.

‘My lady? What about the Wind Masters? Should they sit with dark fae?’ The chamberlain chimed in just as I thought we were finally done with seat shuffling.

‘How about I poison the welcome drink? That way, no one will care where they sit.’ The Chamberlain clutched his chest, making me sigh. And he took it seriously…

‘Place them on the other side of the Care’etavos, next to the Lumivitae. They all share a similar ancestry, so that should ease a few tensions.’ Then, in a burst of inspiration, I added, ‘And sprinkle the Dagome nobles within each race’s delegation. Ensure our people are evenly distributed to reduce their chances of stewing in their own juices and grievances.’

There, I’ve done it.

I rewarded myself with a generous glass of wine.

‘That is an excellent idea, my lady. Leave the rest to me… one final question. Should we use silver or gold cutlery? The fae won’t appreciate silver, but the orcs could find gold excessive.’

The man was testing my patience. Not maliciously, but if all these little decisions were a queen’s job, I would quit.

He must have noticed my souring expression because he waved his hands. ‘No, don’t trouble yourself with this minor detail, my lady. I’ll see to it. It’s just so lovely to have a woman’s touch in the palace. The king wasn’t very receptive when I mentioned such details.’

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. That was a very diplomatic way of saying Rey got annoyed and kicked him out, sending the poor man my way.

‘Gold. Not causing actual harm is more important than the Orcs thinking we’re pretentious. Besides, they’ll probably eat with their fingers anyway.’

The chieftains of the Orcish Steppe had a famously rigid but intimate culture. They insisted on using their claws to eat and took pride in keeping their fingers clean while doing so. However, some still called them barbarians.

‘I’m going to the library. When the king returns, tell him I’m there, or in my workshop, or… Maybe I’ll go outside.’ I marched away from the chamberlain’s panicked blustering and the little notes arranged more like a chessboard than a seating plan.

I’d had enough of court life. I’d welcome anything, even Inga Tivala’s caustic rejoinders, rather than have another discussion about tableware.

‘Yes, my lady, and if anyone else asks?’

‘Think of something. I’m not available, so lie if you must, but give me a few hours of peace. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee anyone’s safety.’

The library was like a cold compress to my aching mind. Cool and quiet, filled with the musky scent of rare manuscripts, it was exactly what I needed. I closed my eyes, breathing it in, and collided with Alaric, who instantly stepped away with a bow.

‘My apologies, Lady Roksana. Is it too early for our meeting? Or did I misunderstand the message you sent me?’ he asked, frowning when I shook my head.

‘No, I just needed…’ I stopped, unsure what to say. I couldn’t admit I’d run away from my duties. Alaric’s eyes softened.

‘Thank you for the tonic. We had a blissfully peaceful night thanks to you. I would love to learn the recipe,’ he said, and I forced a smile.

‘It’s just a few kitchen ingredients in certain amounts. I’ll send the script to you later,’ I said, and his gaze sharpened.

‘Are you well, my lady?’ he asked, making me wonder if he was a psychic mage as well as a necromancer. Alaric noticed my suspicion and raised his hand in a soothing gesture. ‘I’ve seen this look in Orm’s eyes far too often. I can help if you’re not averse to a dark fae’s touch.’

‘Oh, touch whatever you want, just get rid of this fu… Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,’ I explained, closing my eyes when his fingers landed on my temples with a featherlike touch. Coolness spread across my skin, and the dull throb eased until it vanished.

Alaric smiled. ‘There is a very comfortable chair in the far corner. Let’s sit there.’

He led us to the bay window, and when I sat down, he positioned himself beside me and placed a book on my lap. Its old, gilded title was barely visible on a cracked leather cover.

‘Legends of Tir ha Mor? Do you think I need a fairytale?’ I asked, my eyebrows rising.