Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Thirty - Slippery Bastards

Maven

"Come in."

The man does not call attention to himself. No competent spy would. He moves with the ease of a soft-spoken sparrow, certain of a hollow to shield him from trouble. His bleached hair contrasts against tawny, freckled skin as he slides into the seat across from mine.

"Tyton, was it? Apologies for the wait. I'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment." I make a show of fumbling for an envelope, stuffing a creased paper inside. "I might need a minute."

I sign the back with swooping calligraphy, hunched as if to hide the words. He should catch glimpses as I shift, enough to realize the letter is for Queen Cenra of the Lakelands. Let him connect the pieces.

"You summoned me."

"I did." I shove the letter in a drawer. "I used to meet with all the newbloods before they were sent to Training, but after a few months that became impossible."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty." He bows his head. "Why am I here?"

"You're not in trouble." I smile like a boy helping a fellow classmate. "Sometimes I meet newbloods if they catch my eye. I thought it strange how we've never had another with your ability." I chuckle. "Besides my consort, of course."

Consort. The word melts deliciously on my tongue. I still feel a thrill every time I say it, every time I remember her signature, fierce, bold, and mine.

"Your Majesty?" Tyton jolts me to attention. "You trailed off."

"Did I?" Mother's right. I have become smitten. "Apologies. I wanted to ask a few questions."

The spy runs through his story in excruciating detail, and I nod and interject when necessary. I cough and sniffle with increasing intensity, feigning embarrassment. "My mother-in-law did not inform me she was ill." I grimace.

His eyes flicker to the drawer, and I pretend not to notice.

"Proceed." Blah, blah, blah, Piedmont, blah, blah, blah, lightning, blah, blah, blah persecuted. I twitch and fidget as he talks, striking a balance between the lovestruck, impatient boy and the calculating king he is no doubt searching for. I break down in coughs, gritting my teeth.

"Do you need some water?"

"No." I pat my chest. "I'll be--" Another coughing fit. "Colors. I need air. Pardon me, I must step outside for a moment." Cough. "Or two."

I stagger into the hallway, hacking as I make my way to the courtyard. Certain I am out of earshot, I stop coughing. Now to wait.

Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

That should be enough.

I smooth my hair, retreating back to my seat. "Forgive me. I have been neglecting my health. Where were we?"

Tyton finishes his story within minutes, and I dismiss him. My hand strays to my desk drawer, fishing for a letter that is not there. He stills.

"I could've sworn . . . " I fumble through documents, squinting. "Must have sent it already."

When I look up, he is gone.

"My illness has been growing worse."

The Skonos sits across from me, perplexed. I am no longer coughing, not feverish, pained or fatigued. I am a portrait of health.

"I will be beridden for the rest of the day. The disease I have caught is Lakelander, and by nightfall, I will travel to one of their hospitals. Let none disturb me."