Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3) - Page 18

Fulke’s son is a whiny little prat who’s proven to be difficult. Yet another delicate matter I’ve had to handle with care.

“It’s not the prince,” Odo says as he stands there awkwardly, gaze darting around to ensure no one is close by. Aside from the sculptors, my guards were told to wait at the entrance of the castle where six of them stand sentry.

“Then what is it?” I ask, irritation coating my tone at being interrupted.

“It’s your wife, Sire.”

Tension tightens the line of my shoulders. “Hmm. Finally received a message?”

“Yes, but not from her.”

My eyes bore into him as I wait for him to divulge.

Odo leans forward, bracing a hand on the railing so his words don’t carry. Even ice sculptures have ears in Fifth Kingdom.

“Apparently, the pause in communications was not due to storms befalling Highbell. The queen has purposely stopped all correspondence going in and out of the castle. All the messenger hawks we sent finally returned, none of them bearing any letters.”

I sit back, head turning forward again as my mind works, finger tapping on my thigh. “What is Malina up to?” I mutter to myself. I can’t say I’m surprised that she’s up to something, not after she tried to confront me about my plan to double-cross Fulke, but I am surprised at her daring.

Odo continues. “Your eyes in Highbell claim that the queen has made an appearance in the city. She was seen passing out goods to the people, though I heard there was some trouble with dissenters.”

“She went to the city for charity?” I say incredulously. Malina would never concern herself with the people of Highbell unless for a specific purpose.

When some of the sculptors look over at the sound of my voice, I stand up and stride out of the gazebo. Odo hurries to catch up to my side while I stalk down the stone walkway, ignoring my guards at the door.

“There has been some talk amongst Highbell nobles as well,” Odo tells me as we walk through the wide entryway of the palace. My footsteps are cushioned by a long purple runner, the glass and stone walls lit up from the ten-pointed-star window framed with wooden arches in the ceiling.

“What are they saying?” I ask as I turn sharply for the stairwell to head for my chambers. For now, I’m still staying in the guest wing. With Niven alive and Fulke’s death fresh, it’s best for appearances’ sake. For now.

Odo’s breathing becomes labored as he trails after my quick steps up the stairs. “That the queen is...well, she’s wearing white, Sire.”

I stop in my tracks, whirling around to face him with a frown. “What?”

Odo grips the banister of the stairway, panting out puffs of air before he answers. “She’s not wearing gold in public, Your Majesty. None of the golden gowns. Not any of the crowns you’ve gold-touched, even her personal Queen’s guards have had an armor change. I’ve had it confirmed from several sources.”

Frustration has my teeth grinding. So this is how Malina thinks she can test me? It’s not just a color she’s refusing to wear; gold is a declaration of my power and reign. It’s not a simple wardrobe change. It’s a message.

“What would you like me to do, my king?”

I think for a moment before saying, “Nothing, yet. I want all the reports brought to my desk. I’ll decide in the morning what to do with her.”

“Very good, Majesty. And there is also the matter of the gold requests. We’re still getting more and more every day.”

“Remind our requestors that the kingdom is still in mourning. I do not need to flaunt my power while they just lost their king,” I say with rigid chastisement. “Whatever debts this kingdom has, I’ll pay them. As for the nobles looking to line their pockets, give them coin for now.”

“We’re out, my liege.”

My face goes stony. “We’re out? Of all we brought?”

Odo tries to suppress a wince but doesn’t quite manage it. “Well, there were quite a lot of requests. Everyone wanted to have a token of your power. All of the gilded trinkets we brought are nearly gone as well.”

My teeth gnash together so hard that my jaw bone pops. I’m running out of time. If I don’t make a show of power soon, my grasp here might weaken, which can’t happen.

I turn and walk up the steps again, but my pestering advisor follows me all the way to my private chambers. With a dark look, my guards hug the wall, making sure to leave us a wide berth as I enter my room.

“Sire, there’s one more complication,” Odo says quietly, his liver-spotted hands wringing in front of him after he shuts the door behind us.

A sharp sigh escapes me. “What now?” I need to read the reports about what’s been going on in Highbell since I’ve been away. I need to deal with my cold bitch of a wife.

Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy
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