Page 134 of North Queen
“I’ve never seen anything like them, let alone in the winter.”
“You’ve never seen flowers?” Vitalia asked.
She stilled. She’d seen flowers before. Small blooms of purple and yellow speckled across the Mercian mountains flashed in her mind. They weren’t something she remembered seeing, yet they were something she still knew. If she saw them again, would they bring more memories? An ache grew in her stomach. If she couldn’t return to Mercia, she wouldn’t be able to find out. And how could she hope to gain her memories in the Shadowlands, a place so foreign to her, with nothing of her old life, nothing of who she once was?
“Do you like them?” Kiran asked, bringing her attention back.
She drew in a breath to clear her mind and smiled. “Very much.”
His eyes smiled. “I know a place you’d love to see, then.”
Norah followed him through the castle and outside. They curved around to the south side, and she grinned when she saw where he was taking her. Beautiful greens patterned the ground in a large garden. They made their way down the small pebble walk as she marveled at its beauty. “It all grows in the winter?” she asked, amazed.
“Some of it. These are all evergreens. They stay green like this all year. Some flowers you’ll see on the winter plants…”
Kiran’s words continued, but she didn’t hear them. The sound of a horse had caught her attention, and she looked over her shoulder toward a grand building offset from the castle. Behind it were circled paddocks, some with horses.
“Is that the stable?” she asked.
Kiran paused in his flower tour. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Is my horse there?” She desperately wanted to see the mare again. She had a connection to the animal. Maybe it was a connection to her old self. And she was fond of the mare—a friend in a place where she had very few.
“I would assume so,” he answered. “But we should get back, Your Majesty. The lord commander will check that you’ve returned to your chamber, and Captain Artem, too, no doubt. And forgive me, I’ve led you outside the castle with only two guardsmen.”
“I don’t answer to the lord commander,” she answered shortly. “Or the captain.”
“Please, Your Majesty,” he said softly. “I do.”
Norah sighed. She didn’t want any trouble for those who were kind to her. She gave a relenting nod, casting one last glance toward the stable, and they headed back the way they’d come.
Chapter forty
Eachdaypassedslowly.Norah struggled to find her place in it all. She was a queen, but she still felt more prisoner than queen in the kingdom of Shadows. Would that change when she became salara?
She pulled back the draperies on the windows, letting the morning light pour in. Vitalia had gone early to the dressmaker, but Norah spotted the tray of breakfast she’d left on the table. She smiled. Biscuits and honey. She loved honey, although she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had it.
Norah dropped down and curled into the cushioned chair at the table, crossing her legs up under her and into the warmth of her nightgown, then scooted the tray closer. Perhaps she was letting this honey draw too much excitement, but she was alone, and she’d let herself have this small joy.
She broke the biscuit in half to pour the honey across but then pushed it back; she really didn’t care about the biscuit, and instead scooped her fingertip into the small jar of gold. She gave barely enough time for the drip to break before she brought it to her mouth.
And it was the most amazing thing she’d ever tasted. There were hints of lavender mixed in the sweetness; it was rich and thick on her tongue. She wanted to drink it from the jar. There was no spoon to spread it, no knife. It was meant to be poured on the biscuit. She didn’t care, and she dipped in her finger again.
Norah heard movement in the hall—Vitalia, back with her dresses. She grinned and moved to the door. She was going to tell her she was the best maid ever and beg her for more honey. But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Vitalia.
It was Mikael, poised to knock.
Norah stood, her nightgown loose over her shoulder, holding her jar of gold with a honey-coated fingertip. Not exactly how she wanted anyone to see her. Not how she wantedhimto see her.
His gaze traveled down her length and back up. “North Queen,” he said.
“Um…” She shifted. “Hello.” She winced. The right way to address him still escaped her.
They stared at each other for a moment. “I’m”—his brow dipped as he glanced at her honey-coated finger—“sorry to disturb you.”
She felt she might die a little.
His gaze rose to her face again. “I just… wanted you to know that I have to tend some things in the south. But I’ll return tomorrow. Late.”
