Richelle Mead - THORN QUEEN

“Ah, there you are,” he said happily. He returned the kiss-except, well, it was on her lips. And lasted awhile. With tongue.

I stood there, frozen, urging myself to ignore them and keep moving. Yet, I couldn’t. Dorian, seeing me still there, gave me one of his grander smiles. “Queen Eugenie, a moment. Have you met my charming young friend yet?”

That, of course, was one of Dorian’s more annoying habits. He knew perfectly well I’d never met her but enjoyed playing the innocent.

“I haven’t,” I said stiffly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Queen Eugenie, may I present Ysabel, one of my subjects in the Oak Land. She’s been spending some time…in the castle.” I took the subtext to mean that said time was specifically being spent in his bed.

Ysabel bowed, giving me a polite “Your majesty.” Yet, when she straightened up, I saw the look in her eyes was anything but polite. There was a distinct hostility there, and it was directed at me. I was a bit taken aback until I realized what it was. Jealousy. This woman was insanely, adamantly jealous of me. She pressed herself closer to Dorian, almost possessively, her hands roaming over his body in the way that was so commonplace among their kind.

“A pleasure,” I replied. I turned around to leave again, having no desire to watch Ysabel grope Dorian. If she wanted to make me jealous, she was wasting her efforts. Dorian and I were finished. There was nothing more between us, nor would there ever be again.

“Dorian’s latest lover,” Shaya explained later.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out.”

“My understanding is that he went an astonishingly long time without a consort ever since…” She didn’t finish. She was referring to when Dorian and I had been involved.

“How long is a long time?” I asked.

“Mmm…a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks after we broke up? That’s a long time?”

“For King Dorian? Yes. I believe she’s his fourth since then, but she bears a distinct resemblance to all the others.” Shaya looked at me meaningfully.

“So?” I asked, not getting the point.

“Always fair skinned. Always redheads. Violet eyes are harder to find, though, so he’s settled on blue.”

It took me a few moments more to catch on. “Wait. Are you saying Dorian’s been taking lovers that look like me?”

“It could just be a coincidence,” she said diplomatically.

“Jesus Christ,” I said, suddenly freaked out. Had I really made that big of an impression on him?

Shaya paused a moment, face thoughtful. “I don’t think Ysabel likes you very much.”

“I kind of figured that out too. She was trying to make me jealous.” Then, in case there was any question, I added, “But I’m not.”

“As you say,” replied Shaya, voice and face perfectly pleasant.

I couldn’t tell if she believed me or not, but it didn’t matter. I knew the truth. I really wasn’t jealous of Ysabel and Dorian.

Well, not much, anyway.

We left as soon as etiquette said we could. I tried using Shaya’s argument about eccentric queens doing whatever they wanted, but it didn’t work on her. She said if we didn’t stay a certain amount of time, I’d appear intimidated by Maiwenn. So, we stuck around a bit longer than I liked before finally making formal farewells to the others. Kiyo was preoccupied with a group of well-wishers, but he looked up at my departure and smiled. He mouthed the word soon.

My group rode back in a subdued mood. The urgency was gone, and I think my glum attitude threw a cloud over everyone. Seeing Maiwenn and Kiyo had bothered me more than I liked to admit, and Dorian…well, that was another story. For now, I wanted nothing more than to cross over to my own world, throw on pajamas, and watch mindless TV. Possibly while eating ice cream.

And as our journey continued, ice cream sounded more and more appealing once we crossed back into the Thorn Land. The sun was sinking, but heat still radiated off the sand and rocks. It wouldn’t dissipate for another couple hours, and even at midnight, the temperature probably wouldn’t drop below seventy. I’d changed back to my shorts and sunglasses before leaving Maiwenn’s, so again, the heat didn’t bother me as much as it did the others. Dorian had claimed my sundress would catch on as a fashion trend; I wondered if shorts would as well.

“There’s a village ahead,” murmured Rurik.

I snapped out of my daydreams and followed his gesture. Sure enough, a small cluster of buildings darkened the horizon. Like my castle, it was something more suited to a medieval British landscape than the desert. Considering how infrequently I visited my kingdom, this was the first settlement I’d seen outside of the castle. It unnerved me a little, my discomfort growing when I saw that our road went straight through the town. Damned twisting Otherworld. This village hadn’t been here on our earlier trip.

And for that reason, I knew better than to suggest we go around it. With the way this world worked, a slight deviation could toss us into the Rowan Land or add hours onto our trip. Steeling myself, I tightened my grip on the reins, deciding that this place looked small and wouldn’t take long to clear.

When we entered its outskirts, though, I discovered something that made me lose my resolve. The road was lined with people. It was like everyone in the town had come out to see us pass through. They stood along the sides, staring at my party and again looking like extras from some medieval movie. Except, it must have been a low-budget movie. The people’s clothes were ragged and dirty, their faces gaunt. Everyone seemed too skinny, even the children and babies held in parental arms.

My unease grew as we rode deeper into the heart of the village. I hated crowds and having eyes upon me. There was something discomfiting about this particular group. Their expressions were either completely blank or…well, terrified. Everything was dead silent.

“What are they scared of?” I whispered to Rurik.

He gave me an amused glance. “You, of course.”

“Me?” I squeaked. Glancing at my attire, I tried to imagine how out of place I looked here. Was my foreignness that frightening?

“You’re their queen. Everyone knows how you slaughtered Aeson-and that isn’t a particularly heartwarming tale. Likewise, Storm King’s legacy of terror lives on after all these years. You’ve inherited it.”

“So, what, they see me as some kind of tyrant?”

He shrugged. “You’re their queen,” he repeated, as though that explained everything.

I’d never wanted to be queen. I certainly didn’t want to be seen as some kind of despot queen either. I didn’t want these eyes upon me, these eyes that all seemed to be filled with apathy, judgment, and a kind of weary defeat. I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached what looked to be the halfway point. All of a sudden, a man stepped in front of us, bringing us to a halt.

He was an older gentry, tall and gray-haired. He was skinny and clothed only a little better than the rest, though there was an air of dignity and authority that made him stand out. When he saw he had our attention, he swept me a bow so low, his face nearly touched the dusty road.

“To Eugenie, great queen of the Thorn Land, I offer the most humble greetings of your servant, Davros.”

At least, that’s what I think he said. He was bent so low that his words came out muffled. I glanced uneasily at the others in my group, unsure what to do. They all remained silent and looked at me expectantly. Oh, sure. They were full of advice back at Maiwenn’s, but when it came to peasants groveling in the road? That was apparently all me.

“Please, um, stand up,” I managed at last. “Um, Davros.”