When he was gone, Laren turned to Estora. “My lady, I wish to thank you for your protection, though I did not know ultimately what might have become of me had things gone poorly for Zachary.”
Estora smiled. “I know what it is to be a game piece on an Intrigue board, Captain. One has to move carefully. I would not have allowed you to come to any harm.”
Laren bowed her head. “That is what I hoped, but I could not be sure.”
“You’ve my full confidence, Captain.”
“Thank you, and you’ve mine.”
Estora sighed. “I fear your Riders may not think much of me, however.”
“If that is the case,” Laren replied, “it shall be remedied.”
Estora nodded her acknowledgment. “There is one Rider I inadvertently placed in additional danger.”
Laren then heard about the loyal Coutre forester Lord Spane had insisted join the company Zachary sent into Blackveil.
“I gave him my blessing,” Estora said, “not knowing what his true purpose was in going.”
Laren vaguely remembered the man. Very ordinary, rather humble. “Which Rider was his target?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Karigan. Richmont wanted nothing to threaten the marriage contract. If Ard kept Karigan from returning home, it eliminated one of those threats.”
“You know about . . .”
“Zachary’s feelings for Karigan? I do. It explains much.”
Laren nodded, not sure what to say. “I tried to keep them apart.”
“I do not believe it worked.” Estora said it without irony, but with acceptance. Often state marriages were just that—a legal union to produce heirs and solidify alliances, not unions of love. Estora would know this. “For a moment, I . . . I wished Karigan would not come back. Only for a tiny moment,” she added hastily, and she cast her gaze down at her feet.
“You love him,” Laren said.
Estora nodded. “But Karigan is my friend, and I allowed an assassin to follow her into Blackveil.”
“You did not know,” Laren replied quietly. “And though she is beyond our help, she is resourceful, and the other two Riders in the company will watch out for her.”
“I pray it is so,” Estora said, and Laren believed her.
Laren hesitated, then recalling something Ben had said earlier, she asked, “My lady, did you, by any chance read to Zachary while he lay unconscious?”
“I did. Tales of the Sea Kings. It allowed me, in a way, to speak to him, give him comfort, while taking more dire matters off my mind.”
It pleased Laren that Estora had cared for Zachary in such an intimate way. “May I make a recommendation?”
Estora looked curious. “You may.”
“Go to him. Go to Zachary and spend time with him. You are his wife. He may claim to be busy, but he is always busy, and always will be. You must insinuate yourself into his private world. I think reading to him is a very fine idea.”
“But he is tired . . .”
“A perfect time to read to him, when he is too exhausted to do anything else but sleep or listen to your voice.”
Estora nodded, taking in the advice. “Yes, I shall do this. I shall go to him now.”
Laren smiled, much pleased. “He is very partial to the poetry of Tervalt. It’s full of manly deeds of slaying dragons, hunting the highlands of Hillander, admiring fair maidens, and going to sea.”
“Excellent. I shall have Tervalt’s poems brought to me from the library.” Then Estora returned her smile. “Though I myself prefer the nature poetry of Annaliese of Greywood.” Her smile deepened. “I can see, Captain, that you have already become my essential counselor.”
Laren took her leave of the queen. She would do what she could to encourage a strong union between Zachary and Estora, to bring them closer together. The fate of the realm did not require the two get along, just that they produce heirs. Laren, however, loved Zachary too much to not wish for his happiness and promote it in anyway she could.
Now that her interview with the queen was over, Laren was confronted with the fact she would no longer be kept under guard and confined to her luxurious prison. The first thing she would do was seek out Connly and Elgin and get updated on the doings of her Riders, then she’d visit her beloved Bluebird.
However, when she stepped through the throne room doors, she found herself faced with two columns of green clad messengers standing at attention in the corridor. Elgin stood to the side with a grin on his face. Overcome, she could not find her voice at first. Word that she was released had reached them fast.
“At ease, Riders,” she said finally.
They broke out in cheers and clapping, and Laren’s cheeks practically hurt from smiling so hard.
Connly came to her and shook her hand. “Captain, I’ve never been so glad to see you. I gladly relinquish all responsibilities back into your keeping.”
“Not so fast, Lieutenant,” she said. “Some while ago I received an invitation to visit a friend in Corsa. Do you know it’s been years since last I took leave?”
Connly’s expression fell. He looked absolutely horrified. “But . . . but, all those meetings, those brain-deadening meetings . . .”
Laren smiled at him, and left him so she could greet each of her Riders individually. Yes, some leave time would be marvelous and she did not think Zachary would deny her.
Her smile faltered, however, when she realized that when she reached Corsa, she’d have to explain to her friend, who happened to be a certain merchant, why his daughter had been sent into Blackveil. He would not, she thought, ever forgive her for that, especially if Karigan did not return.