Page 60 of North Queen
“We’re most eager to hear about your time away from us,” he said.
All thoughts of the king of Rael fell from her mind, and she forced a dry swallow. She knew the planned response—she’d been with an undisclosed ally who wished to remain that way, and her father had committed her to secrecy. It was such an underwhelming answer. No one would buy it. She wouldn’t, in their place. And if they didn’t believe her, what would be her standing with them then? She needed their favor, and she was already off to a mediocre start at best.
Norah glanced at James. He nodded. She knew his position—there was little benefit to continuing to keep her condition from the council now that she was queen. They could do nothing against her. Perhaps they could actually help her, guide her. And she was desperate for just one weight off her shoulders. With everything she was facing, she couldn’t waste energy holding a charade as well.
“Queen Norah?” Edward said.
She realized she’d just been sitting there. “I… um…” She glanced around the table at all the eyes looking back at her. “I, uh, actually don’t know. I’ve lost my memories.”
The councilmen shifted in their chairs and looked at one another.
As she said the words, she realized it sounded almost as unbelievable as a secret ally. At least it was the truth, and she could speak it confidently. She avoided her grandmother’s eyes. It was another disappointment, she was sure. Add it to the list.
“Lost your memories?” Edward sputtered. “And you didn’t think it important to inform this council before the coronation?”
The knot in her stomach grew. She had… but she didn’t answer that.
Edward turned his lit eyes on Catherine. “You knew. You knew, and you didn’t tell us.”
“I made decisions for the good of Mercia,” Catherine said flatly.
“The good of Mercia!” Edward exclaimed in a shrill voice.
Alastair spoke now, narrowing his eyes on Norah. “And how are we to know you’re Queen Norah?”
“Oh, come now,” James said angrily. “Don’t be absurd. There’s no doubt she’s Queen Norah. There’s no mistaking her. She’s been gone for three years, not three decades.”
Edward gaped at him. “You knew about this beforehand? And you said nothing?”
James flicked his hand through the air. “Because I knew you’d say ridiculous things like this.”
Norah swallowed. She’d expected this conversation to go very differently. She had needed it to go differently. Could she get it back on track? Could she quiet them? She was queen.
But she found herself not needing to quiet them, as the room naturally fell silent.
Edward spoke first—of course he’d speak first. “Well, this adds a complicated element, especially considering the letter this morning.”
What letter?A weight grew in her stomach. More news? Different news? She was trying to lessen the burdens on her shoulders, not add more.
“What letter?” she asked. Her eyes found Alexander’s, where she hoped to find calm, but it wasn’t calm she saw. Behind his stoic gaze, something bothered him. Her heart beat faster, and she swallowed the rising lump in her throat.
Edward’s thin lips curved into a frustrated smile. “A letter from King Phillip of Aleon.”
Heat rushed through her. Catherine had just been in her chamber. How could she not have said anything? She shot a glance at her grandmother but found only an equal look of surprise. She hadn’t known either.
“He sends his elations at your return,” Edward continued, “and he hopes he’s not too forward in proposing that you suggest a date for the marriage.”
That was too forward.
Edward gave a judgmental gaze. “He, of course, assumes the alliance between Mercia and Aleon still stands.”
Did this condescending man always speak for the council? She stole a glance at Catherine, whose eyes told her to keep herself composed.
“Where’s the letter?” she asked, hoping to buy herself time to pull her thoughts together.
Edward’s lip twitched. “It was short, Your Elegance. But I would propose—”
“Regal High,” Alexander interrupted, creating an awkward silence in the room. “And she asked for the letter.”
