Page 160 of War Queen
Norah closed her eyes and brought back her grandmother’s smiling face.
“Queen Norah?”
Norah snapped her head up at the sound of her name. Around the table in the judisaept, the eyes of her council stared back at her. Her mind had wandered again. Two times she had tried to call Lucien back since he’d showed her Catherine, but he hadn’t come, and she was worried. But she tried to push that from her mind as she struggled to focus on her council.
She swallowed. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
“What are your thoughts?” Lord Semaine asked.
Not helpful.
She looked at Mikael at the opposite end of the table. His brow quirked. He knew something was off with her.
“She thinks we should wait,” Soren interjected. “As I said.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I agree with the lord commander. We should wait.” What were they talking about?
“If Rael attacks within the next two weeks, we run the risk of not having our forces in position in time,” Lord Branton said.
And she realized—they were talking about when to move the Mercian army to the stronghold in Bahoul.
Norah liked Lord Branton. He’d been a field general under her father; he was a man adept at war. He was thoughtful and honest, and she didn’t take his concerns lightly.
“But if we move them too soon,” Soren said, “we won’t be able to sustain them.”
It was in Soren’s interest to move sooner, for Phillip’s sake. But he said to wait. He would choose what was best for Mercia and Kharav.
“We wait,” she said.
The councilmen bowed their heads, and they all rose from the table. Her thoughts turned back to Lucien. She suspected he’d overexerted himself, as Alexander once had, but it had been two days, and he still hadn’t come.
She didn’t have much blood left, perhaps enough to call him one, maybe two more times.
Norah brushed the wrinkles from her gown as she stepped out of the judisaept. A warm hand caught her arm.
Mikael. She cursed herself. She should have waited for him before stepping out. Her mind was failing her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She forced a nod. “Yes. I’m sorry. There’s just a lot on my mind.”
His brow dipped in concern, and he brushed her cheek. “Are you sure?”
She nodded again. “Yes.” She spied Soren waiting in the hall for Mikael to join him. “Soren’s waiting. Go. I’m perfectly fine.”
“All right,” he said. Then he kissed her forehead and went to join Soren.
Norah watched them disappear down the adjoining walk, then she turned and quickly made her way toward her chamber. Not too quickly. Not quickly enough to draw notice, or the suspicion of her guard. They’d tell Bhastian, and Bhastian’s attention was like Soren’s: hawkeyed for anything amiss. She loved her Crest captain, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t avoid him like the fever when she was trying to hide something.
Safely in the privacy of her chamber, she lit a lantern. Then she fumbled with the access door under the hastily thrown-back rug and ducked into the stairwell.
Sparingly, she drew the blood across her palm and closed her hand over it. She prayed as she waited.
A flutter touched her mind, and she let out a relieved breath.
“I was worried for you,” she said. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.
A shadow in front of her appeared, and the tunnel lit around them until she could finally see him. His brow dipped. “You were worried?”
