Page 49 of North Queen
He took her hand and moved it further to the side. “And here?”
His touch was distracting, but she forced her mind to the carving. “Um… not as smooth?”
He nodded, his golden hair catching the moonlight from the windows above. “Think of how many men must have come here to ask King Hagen for strength, polishing this wood smooth with only the touch of their skin. How many hands does that take? How many touches?”
She moved her fingers back to the polished engraving, feeling its smoothness, to where her father must have touched and his father before him.
“See, Norah,” he said softly, “you aren’t the only one who’s thought yourself lost.”
The calm of reassurance settled her, and she looked at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alexander’s lips parted to say more, but then he stopped. She glanced down at her hand, still in his. It fit so perfectly, warm, protected, and safe—the way he made her feel.
“I should get you back to your chamber,” he said, finally breaking the spell.
Right.Her chamber.She felt a wave of disappointment, and it surprised her. She forced a nod, and he led her back the way they had come.
As they walked back to her chamber, she saw Titus’s posture shift before they even reached him. Seeing her outside—he hadn’t expected this.
“Sorry,” she mouthed to the large guard as they reached the door. She turned back to Alexander.
“Good night, Your Highness,” he told her. His formality had returned.
“Good night, Lord Justice.” She turned back toward her chamber. “Sorry,” she whispered again to Titus as she slipped past him and inside.
Chapter fifteen
ThedoortoNorah’schamber swung open. “Rise, child!” Catherine said as she swept in. “Quickly!”
Norah sat straight up in bed. Daylight shined through the window. Had she really slept until the sun had risen? She wiped her eyes. She’d slept—she’d actually slept. And it felt amazing.
“Quickly!” her grandmother pushed again as Rebecca hurried in with a dress.
Catherine’s tone quashed Norah’s restful satisfaction. Why quickly? “What’s going on?”
“The council has called a state now that James and Elias have returned. I thought we’d have more time, both James and I pushed, but no. It’s today.”
Today. Her pulse picked up. Today—no.“I can’t meet with the council today.” She wasn’t anywhere near ready for the state. She still didn’t entirely know what that meant, only that they would ask questions—questions that she had no answers for. They’d want to know where she’d been, and while Catherine had come up with a response that she’d rehearsed a hundred times, it still didn’t sound true. Because it wasn’t. And then when they discovered her…
She didn’t want to think about that. Shecouldn’tthink about that and keep control of her nerves.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” her grandmother said, seeming to read her mind. “I’m still queen regent. I’ll lead us through. Everything will be fine.”
But she didn’t believe that. Even James wasn’t confident she’d fool the council—he’d told her so directly.
Catherine practically ripped Norah’s nightgown from her just as Rebecca swept around with a corset, tying it and pulling it tight before Norah could adjust for her breath. The gown came over her head, from her maid or her grandmother, she wasn’t sure. Not that it mattered. She just needed it on. Panic flowed through her veins, and being rushed didn’t help. She forced her mind back to the question the council would ask her first—where she’d been…
“Remember, you’ll say you’ve been kept well by a secret ally, one that wishes to remain secret,” Catherine said, as if reading her mind. “Instead of focusing on the past, I’ll drive our conversation to the present and the future. We’ll talk about your marriage to Phillip.”
Norah stiffened. She’d rather tell the council about her memory loss.
Catherine tugged the fitted gown straight, then pushed Norah to the vanity and pressed her abruptly down in the chair. She pulled the brush from Rebecca’s hand and raked it swiftly through Norah’s hair. “By now, Phillip will know of your return.”
Norah winced, more from his name than the speedy, aggressive hair brushing. This man she didn’t know—the man she was expected to wed.
Her grandmother swept back the sides of Norah’s hair with floral pins. “We’ll hear from him soon, and it shouldn’t be hard to occupy their attention with that—it’s what’s most important, anyway.”
Norah’s mind reeled. With every fiber of her being, she rejected the notion of this marriage. Her soul clawed against the obligations that chained her and against the path she couldn’t choose for herself. Or perhaps she could choose, but there was the weight of so many looking to her—of so many lives depending on her. Turning her back to them would break her. And she found herself feeling the same as she had with James—there was nothing she could do but agree. Nothing she could do but follow. At least for now.
