To Kill a King

7: The War Room

new chapter, here it be :) and pls leave me inline comments I love them and will reply to them!

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Three days later, I sat alone in agitated silence at the small wooden desk in my antechamber, checking over for the fifth time my coded letter to the Queen. Above the first line, "Royal Mother mine, worry not for I am content here though I daily pine for your embrace..." was a series of careful rips and tears into the top of the page. A code, designed to resemble a jagged edge of a page of parchment, taught to me weeks ago in Avenlake. Translated, it read:

Onteremy discovered I am not princess but convinced him to keep secret for dowry he is not suspicious that I was sent here by you also I am

The secret message wrapped around the corner, continuing down the side of the page:

working on gaining entry into council

The Master would be coming by my chambers soon. I folded the letter in thirds and tied it closed with a ribbon. Didn't bother with a wax seal. It'd be broken anyway by the King's agents checking every letter leaving the gates.

I sat back and stared at it, drumming my fingers on the table. It was easy to report to one's superior that one was going to infiltrate a war council, but accomplishing such a feat in my present situation was a different matter entirely.

"Careful, soldier." It was the Master's voice, muffled and mellow in the hallway outside. The heavy thump of soldiers' footsteps followed. Excited, I stood up, letter in hand, and turned eagerly towards the door. "That one's dragging on the—you, stick arms, it's cloth, not stone. Never picked up anything heavier than a feather, have you, son?"

My heart sank as a stack of half a dozen rolled-up tapestries, a familiar sight by now, entered my chamber and tumbled onto the floor in a cloud of dust, revealing a panting soldier, who threw me a salute. Several other stacks of tapestries invaded my chamber the same way before the Master himself stepped through and bowed. An attendant flanked his side.

"My lady, you're up."

"What is the meaning of this, Master?" I demanded.

"Well, we've brought up some others of the Keep's finest tapestries sorely in need of care," he said, tucking his thumbs into his belt with a smile. "As you know, in this matter of restoring the Keep to its former glory, you have all of my gratitude."

"Misplaced," I spluttered. "When did I offer—" The Master looked taken aback. I let out a breath. Smiled sheepishly. Threw in a cough for good measure. "What I mean is, mending five of these in the last three days was quite the extent of my efforts. I'm beginning to feel ill."

His homely face fell. "Then my lady should rest in these chambers until she is well again. Shall I have meals sent up?"

"No—"

"Perhaps some embroidery for leisure—"

"In case it isn't clear, Master," I said through gritted teeth, "I don't like embroidery."

The Master seemed at a loss for words. "Well! My mistake, my lady, a genuine mistake. After all, the first thing you asked of us was thread and needle—"

"That was for my mother." I forced out my last smile. "Faith bless her. Actually, Master, what I think should dispel this illness is, as I've said each day, some time, outside, by which I mean, outside of these apartments to which I'm unreasonably confined—"

The Master exchanged a look with his attendant. "My lady," he said, turning back to me. "If you dislike embroidery, may I interest you in organizing His Majesty's helmet collection? Or gardening? Or—"