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She tried not to narrow her gaze. Ephram did not look pleased to see her in the least. His mouth was pulled into a tight line that cut across his angular cheeks. His large eyes were constantly shifting from the queen to the space surrounding her. Lifting one thin brow, she cleared her throat to regain his ever-moving attention. Annoyance made her spin stiff.
“Are you looking for someone?” Idalia refused to allow any bitterness to seep into her voice. A woman must always keep her composure. She must never let her frustrations show.
“Will Queen Ambrose be joining us today? I was under the impression that both queens were still in need of suitors.”
“Ah.” She dipped her head in understanding. “My wonderful sister was feeling quite ill this morning. She’s chosen to remain in bed so that she might be well for our next event. I’m sure you understand. You two already looked quite smitten the other day, did you not?”
“I think the utmost of Queen Ambrose. It would be my biggest blessing to be chosen by her good graces as king.”
“And what about my good graces?”
The trimmed yards of the castle grounds were behind them now, giving way to the twisting branches of trees and tangle of low brush across the forest floors. The path narrowed to only allow two riders side by side, three at the widest parts. It gave her and Ephram an illusion of privacy.
Somewhere off in the distance a bird cawed, drawing Ephram’s attention away again. His eyes lingered on the trees for several long seconds before he finally responded to the queen’s questions.
“Yourgracesseem most highly sought after.”
If it was meant as a compliment it lacked the necessary sincerity.
“So you think you’ll have better odds with my sister? How very calculated of you.” Idalia watched him with a new scrutiny. She swore she saw something flicker across his face. Emotion? Something else? She blinked when his image became fuzzy.
“Not calculated at all. I quite enjoy your sister’s company. What I was meaning was that my hand will not be missed amongst the many that reach for yours.”
Men were always backpedaling when caught in something foul.
“I found you quite charming and alluring the other day. What makes you think I wouldn’t favor you?” She offered him a sly grin and made good use of her long lashes as she batted them in his directions. She allowed her gaze to travel over him as if admiring his fine build.
“You flatter me.” He returned her smile, though his was tense.
“You are quite interesting, if I do say so myself, Ephram.” She steadied her gaze forward, looking out toward their path. Her voice lowered as did those behind her as they were meant to not scare away anything they might wish to hunt. Another bird screeched somewhere within the woods. “Where did you say your family is from again?”
“Right here in Marlux, actually. Born and raised.”
“I have not seen you at any of my parties prior to theseparticularevents.”
“You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies. I am not much of a party goer. I’ve also spent a lot of time nurturing my businesses. I’ve been an admirer of your sister for quite some time now.”
“I’m sure she would appreciate the attention.”
Sitting straight forward, she cast a look from the corner of her eyes. His black hair was tucked behind pointed ears with the exception of a couple fallen strands—she turned to look at him fully. He blinked at her, carefully tucking away the loose pieces behind perfectly human, perfectly round, ears.
“My queen? Are you quite alright?”
“Yes.” She hummed her response.
The whistle of an arrow flew over the queen’s shoulder. Idalia nearly slipped from the saddle to avoid the poorly aimed weapon. A bird cawed again much nearer now, large black raven wings spread wide as the animal swooped toward the queen. Idalia ducked with a squeak of surprise.
There was a rustling amongst the trees now, the familiar armor of her guards as several made themselves known just as another arrow grazed her side. Idalia hissed. The wind blew open the new tear in her shirt and revealed the welling of blood.
“All bow and arrows should be down!” she shouted over her shoulder. There was no more time to pretend she was nothing but a dainty flower. Not when her very life could be at stake. “Guards!” she shouted as she threw her leg over the horn and crouched low over the horse. The leather reins were held tightly in her hands as she kicked at the horse and demanded its speed.
Her fingers only left the lead as she swatted at the raven that flew past yet again. Guards had cut into the path sorting through the men behind her too, looking for the culprit. Her breath came in short pants as images of the days when she led war flashed behind her gaze. She couldn’t swallow or catch her breath. There was only her, the horse, and fear.
Another horse raced at her side. She allowed it only the most fleeting of glances, expecting to see Ephram keeping pace, but Ambrose’s admirer was not there. Instead, it was Markus; his long braid bouncing against his back, his bow discarded and his hands empty.
Idalia ducked as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. An arrow lodged in the raven that dived for her face, dropping the dying animal into her lap. She shrieked, shoving off the small mass of feathers and blood.
“My queen!” Markus expertly guided both his horse and hers around the sharp curve of the path. He stretched a hand for her, their legs touching as their horses galloped next to each other. “Take my hand and leave behind your horse. I will take you back to the castle.”
