The Painter's Apprentice

Chapter 26

The Queen's cabinet is a magnificent room — a circular study with walls of bookshelves draped in climbing ivy and capped with a domed glass roof. To my surprise, a tree with gypsum white flowers grows at the center of the room. The floors are buckled and uneven, creating a terraced effect to the room. A stream trickles from a fissure in the wall and winds through the tree's roots and around furniture before it disappears into a crack in the stone floor. Instead of woven carpets, the floor of the cabinet is covered with moss and creeping thyme that releases a herbaceous smell as we cross to where the Queen sits at a table with another Faerie.

"Your Majesty. Prince Oberon," Destan says with a charming grin.

Prince Oberon bears a passing resemblance to the Queen, but his skin is a pale green that would look sickly on anyone but a Fae. He has his mother's beautiful, angular features, dark eyes, and strong jaw, but his hair is a lighter shade of golden brown. When he turns his head to examine us, his hair catches the light and shines with brilliant auburn tones before the sun disappears behind heavy grey clouds and all the colors of the room grow dull.

His eyes fall on me, and it's hard not to blush with the way his eyes rake over me. "Destan Bordelon!" Oberon cries. "You're the last person I expected to walk through that door. Who is this lovely human you've brought with you?" He jumps from his chair and glides down uneven steps to meet us halfway.

"This is Mademoiselle Florette, a painter at French court," Destan answers. His grin falters when Oberon takes my hand to place a languishing kiss to my knuckles.

Oberon straightens and the mischievous look he throws Destan makes my stomach turn. I know they are acquainted with each other, but Destan has never seemed thrilled with the idea of involving him in the Order's plans. Now I know why when I get an immediate sense that he can't be trusted.

"Please, come join me," the Queen says as she gestures to the three open chairs around the table where a spread of food and a pot of tea wait for us. She wears a satin gown of emerald green that shifts to gold and black as she moves. Black stones stud the gold diadem on her brow, and her raven hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders.

We take our seats and Oberon pours each of us a cup of pleasingly fruity and floral tea.

"Help yourselves," the Queen says with a nod to the food and empty plates before us.

The sample of delicacies makes my mouth water and my stomach rumble. I select a golden tart piled with dark purple berries and a dusting of sugar crystals. Destan helps himself to slices of cold meat, a soft-boiled egg, and a hunk of bread. He must be just as hungry as I am. We left before our breakfast was delivered to our chambers so we both haven't eaten since well before last night's ball.

The Queen takes nothing for herself. Oberon pops bright red berries I don't recognize into his mouth one by one. He seems more focused on watching me than partaking in breakfast, but I keep my eyes on my plate.

"Now that we have food, we can talk business," the Queen says. "The situation in France must be quite grave for you to come all this way for help from my court."

"The situation is grave indeed," Destain replies. "We are looking down the barrel of revolution again, and the monarchy barely survived the last one."

"I see, but why should I be expected to help out my sister's court? She is a vile little traitor." She doesn't bother to hide the disgust from her voice. "You wouldn't have been alive, but many years ago, Henriette and her pack of vermin tried to mount a coup against me. She failed and the lot of them were banished to your realm."

"Yes, I wasn't alive, but my father was. You may remember Lord Gardet."

"Hard to forget a man who spent so much time kissing Henriette's boots."