Page 96 of Waking Roslyn

“Have I?” I asked with genuine curiosity. “This is my first time meeting Her Majesty, so I have no idea what her favor would look like.”

He smiled as though amused by my honesty. “She spoke to you and she smiled. That’s a rarity.”

“Oh.” I wanted to be happy at the news, but instead I had to wonder if such favor would work against me instead of for me.

He looked concerned. “Do you not wish for the queen’s favor?” he asked.

“Of course I am gratified to have it,” I said without expounding. Just because he was not being unpleasant didn’t mean I would confide in him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

I looked at him with confusion. “What I said?”

“About being happy that the little prince had been born?”

Apparently, Everett had been standing close enough to hear our conversation. I hadn’t seen him there. “Yes, of course. That child means that I no longer have to worry about the throne falling to me.”

He looked puzzled. “And that is a good thing?”

“Most assuredly,” I said. If he understood nothing else about me, I wanted him to understand this, and to spread it far and wide. “The last thing that I want is to rule a kingdom.”

He held my gaze, perhaps looking for the lie in my words, but eventually he said, “I believe you” just as our dance ended.

I curtsied and he bowed to end the dance.

“Has someone else already claimed the next dance?” he asked.

I managed not to scoff at the idea. “No. And I doubt anyone will.”

“Where might I escort you?”

I had seen John waiting close to the food and drink tables. “I need something to drink.”

“Refreshments it is.”

He offered his arm, and I was surprised that I felt at ease taking it. His pace was even. Not hurried, but not dawdling either. He held his head high and acknowledged the curious looks we received with calm authority.

When we reached the refreshment table, I released his arm and gratefully reached for a goblet of wine. I was tired from maintaining the public facade that I always wore in these situations, but the goblet felt familiar in my hand and I happily swirled the deep-red liquid in the glass and then held it under my nose, inhaling deeply.

“Still sniffing things, are you?” Everett commented.

My eyes shot to him, and any good feeling left from the fragrant aroma was gone. I glared.

He held up a staying hand, looking remorseful. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult. It was actually…I appreciate the familiarity of it. You’ve changed a great deal, but that hasn’t changed. I find it strangely comforting.”

I looked away and shook my head, not ready to trust his sincerity, and as I did, I noticed John taking up an unobtrusive position nearby. Or at least as unobtrusive as a man his size could be.

“I always found your penchant for aromas amusing. I remember you declaring you liked my smell the first time we met.” He sounded friendly, but I remembered all too well the way he and Neil had mocked me just because I liked the smell of flowers, how they’d shoved my face into bushes.

“That was before you decided to hate me,” I challenged, still not looking at him.

“I never hated you.”

My eyes darted to his and my jaw clenched. “Lies.”

“I didn’t,” he insisted, and when I continued to stare, he sighed in frustration.

“You can keep trying, Lord Everett,” I finally said, “but I’m not going to believe you. Not about this.” I had an entire vault of memories devoted to how much he’d hated me, and while I might not be able to stand up to Neil’s sneering, I wouldn’t let Everett lie to my face.