Page 107 of Waking Roslyn

When the sound of crisp footfalls outside the room drew closer, we all turned toward the door. Perhaps it was the local apothecary with answers, or a guard with information on who had done this to her.

Instead, a footman entered. “Your Graces.” He bowed.

“What is it?” the duke asked, clearly impatient.

“His Royal Highness King Terius awaits you in the drawing room.”

My brow shot up. The king? Here?

The duke looked surprised, then shook his head in what I could only imagine was annoyance. Then he turned to his wife. “Violet, do I look presentable enough to greet His Majesty?”

She blinked up at him, clearly having a hard time concentrating on his question when worry for her daughter was consuming her, but she managed to climb to her feet. She straightened his shirt and ran her fingers through his hair in a way that spoke of ritual. It was the sort of thing she must have done for him a thousand times as his wife, but watching them now felt a bit like an invasion of their privacy when their manner and expressions were so broken.

The duchess finally looked up at his face with the ghost of a smile. “Handsome as ever.”

He put a hand over hers where it rested on his chest and closed his eyes, the heaviness of grief weighing down on his eyelids. Finally he opened them. “I’ll be back” was all he said before leaving.

I was surprised when the duchess turned to me. “John. I would like to know how that meeting goes, but I cannot leave her. Be my eyes, would you?”

I hesitated for just a moment, not wanting to leave Roslyn. But the duchess was entrusting me with a task. She would stay with her daughter, and there was still another guard stationed outside the door.

Plus, would an assassin really be mad enough to make a second attempt on her life while the king was in the house?

I nodded, leaving the room and going to the servants’ stairs at the back of the corridor instead of taking the large staircase at the other end. I made my way down to the drawing room and took up a position just outside the door as though I was supposed to be there. And since the duchess had told me to be here, I supposed it was true.

“She still sleeps,” the duke was saying, his voice brittle. “The doctor says all we can do is wait and hope.”

“And you’re certain it was intentional?”

“The doctor identified the poison. It had been put on a bouquet of flowers delivered for Roslyn.”

“But who would do such a thing?” The king was clearly appalled, which was some comfort.

“Do you truly want me to answer that, Your Majesty?” The duke’s tone took on an edge as he asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we’ve discussed this matter before, and you haven’t been tolerant of my concerns in the past.”

“Yes, but only because they always sounded more like wild accusations than real concerns,” the king pointed out.

“And now?” the duke challenged.

Silence reigned, and I wondered how tolerant the king would be if His Grace kept pushing him in a such a way.

The king didn’t respond, so finally, the duke spoke again. “I used to ignore it as well. I excused the abuse my child was subjected to. We all saw it happening. You and your wife saw it. The Malladons and Ravennas saw it. But I? I should have done something about it.” His voice trembled.

“Children can be cruel,” the king said with the kind of calm that grated on my nerves.

“Yes, I said those exact words time and time again. I spoke those words to Roslyn because I was more concerned with not making a fuss than with protecting my own child.”

“You sent her away to keep her safe. That’s not nothing.”

“Yes, but only because Queen Talia warned us of the danger,” the duke said, his voice rising just a little. “She didn’t excuse it. She didn’t brush it aside. She had her men—your men—investigate. And though there was not enough proof to bring charges, she saw Lord Ravenna and Lord Malladon for what they were—a threat to the life of my daughter. Now, do you truly wish to stand there, with Roslyn on the cusp of living or dying, and tell me that my concerns are silly or exaggerated?”

“Careful how you speak to me, Weltshire,” the king said in a warning tone.

“I mean no disrespect, my king. But it’s an honest question.”