A Queen of Thieves & Chaos (Fate & Flame, #3)

“Everyone is to be searched!” he bellows, grabbing my arm.

Not with those hands, they won’t. “Stop!” I hang on to Suri tight. “You’re going to hurt her!” Or worse, make me drop her.

“What’s the problem here?” a new voice demands.

The guards stiffen immediately, coming to attention.

The king himself enters our bedchamber, a regal presence despite his disheveled attire—his white tunic untucked and half-buttoned, as if he was caught by an emergency while undressing.

I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Since when does a king visit the servants’ quarters?

“She refuses to let us search the infant, Your Highness.”

“I haven’t refused. I just … she is a newborn, and you are too rough.”

“When was the last time either of you held an infant?” Corrin waggles a finger at the guards.

Their blank glances at each other answers her question.

“You can’t jostle them about. They need their head supported!”

The king surveys our toppled room and my two children, both crying, though Mika is trying to muzzle it. “Fix the pallet and then move to the next chamber,” he tells the guards. “Corrin, I’m sure there’s something sweet in the kitchen that might soothe them?” He sounds so calm. It’s in such conflict to the chaos his order has stirred. Shouts and clatter come from every direction.

“I’m sure I can scrounge up an apple fritter or two.”

Mika’s eyes light up at his favorite.

With a hand on each child’s shoulder, Corrin guides them out, offering a pointed glare at the guards on her way past. It would be comical if I weren’t so frightened.

“The servant and her infant have not yet been searched, Your Highness,” the larger, meaner of the two declares.

“Thank you. That will be all.”

They stroll out, but the king stays, pushing the door shut, closing out the madness beyond.

My nerves spike with just the two of us in a room together. I’ve found him in my thoughts these past days far more often than any mortal servant should ever allow thoughts of her king. I keep telling myself it was because he was kind to my family when others would not have been. Yet, it is his handsome face and the soft, seductive lilt of his voice when he spoke only to me that I’ve lingered on.

Entirely inappropriate thoughts, and ones I never expected I’d have for any male after what I’ve been through, immortal or otherwise, let alone the king.

Fortunately, the only thing he’s likely to read in me right now is my genuine terror.

“I don’t think I have ever been in the servant quarters before.” His back remains to me, allowing me the opportunity to study his broad shoulders. “It is dark and damp.”

“It’s more than adequate, Your Highness.”

“Is it?” He turns to regard me. The buttons on his tunic gape. Even in the dim candlelight, I can make out the padded muscle around his collarbones.

I drop my gaze before I’m accused of ogling. “When we lived in Freywich with Lord Danthrin, our sleeping quarters were in a small dirt cellar with all the other servants. At least ten at any given time. There were vermin everywhere. Far more than here.” The cats in the castle are plentiful and plump.

“Why am I not surprised to hear that.” His lips curl with disdain.

“This is more private. Quiet. Usually,” I add, and then regret the word the moment it’s out of my mouth. It sounds like a criticism, and I would never want to be accused of such a thing.

“Yes.” He bites his bottom lip. “Sometimes I forget how passionate the guards can be when carrying out orders.”

Passionate. That’s one word for it.

“I am sorry.”

My mouth drops. Did a king apologize to me? “These are difficult times, Your Highness,” I murmur in a stupor.

Suri fusses in my arms. She could do for another feeding, but I’ll have to wait until the king is gone.

He sighs, his steps slow and deliberate as he wanders through our room. “My tributary was discovered to have tainted blood tonight.”

I gasp. “Sabrina?”

“Yes. You know her?”

“Of course. I see her every day. Sometimes she minds Lilou and Mika for me.”

“A guard died. A terrible death.” Strolling over to where the woven bassinet lays upside down, he bends over and rights it, then fixes the blankets. Or attempts to. He hasn’t the first clue how to make a bed. It’s … endearing. “I don’t think she knowingly took it—”

“No, she wouldn’t have. She—” I cut myself off before I say what I was going to, that Sabrina is madly in love with him. And then I realize I interrupted the king midsentence. A fresh flare of anxiety hits me. “I mean, she never once complained about her duties where they involved you, Your Highness.”

“I imagine she did not.” His full lips curve with a secret, and I can only imagine the thoughts flowing through his mind. Sabrina practically floats around the castle the morning after she’s called to him. According to her, he’s generous with his tributaries.

I smiled and nodded when she confided that, not understanding what she meant. My experiences with males have never been for my benefit, and the only thing they were generous with was pain and humiliation.

The king’s eyes graze our scattered clothes. “She has not left the castle walls since she last visited my rooms, which means someone within the castle dosed her. Likely someone in the kitchen.”

My forehead furrows as I rifle through all the faces and names that pass through each day. “I haven’t seen anything suspicious.”

“And yet it happened, which is why the guards now search everyone’s room. We felt it prudent to do so before anyone had a chance to hear about the death and hide evidence.”

“And you came to join the search, Your Highness?”

“I came down here because I could not sit in my rooms, waiting. I was hoping to find the culprit myself.” He stretches our blanket out over the bed. “I didn’t know the guard’s name.” Remorse fills his voice.

“You’re a king. You can’t be expected to remember names.”

“My brother would have.” He glares at the low stone ceiling, but I sense his thoughts far away. Does he regret what he did to King Zander? Does he feel justified?

I hesitate. “What will you do to Sabrina?”

“I don’t know yet.” But his jaw tenses, as if the options are limited and all unpleasant.

I have yet to hear of a tainted mortal allowed to live since King Atticus took the throne.

My heart aches for the young woman.

“Come, this can be done quickly, and then you can go back to sleep. Or whatever needs you must tend to.” He gestures toward the bed, but his focus is on Suri, rooting for a nipple to clamp onto. The top buttons on my nightdress are unfastened for easy access, leaving the collar plunging to near indecency. In all the turmoil, I hadn’t fixed myself.