Chapter 22: The Queen

She was breathtakingly beautiful, the kind of beauty you only heard about in stories, never actually saw with your own eyes. The single thought echoed through Adam’s mind as he stared at the woman more deeply now with the rush of adrenaline finally fading. And she wasn’t just any woman; she was the Queen. Her long silver hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, gleaming with the same color of the moonlight, and her violet eyes seemed almost luminous, framed by thick, long lashes. A small, perfectly straight nose led to soft, pink lips, their natural curve almost warm and friendly, if not for the hint of calculation behind them. Her jaw was elegantly sculpted, flowing into the long, graceful frame of her neck. She was stunning, not seductive; she didn’t radiate any overt sensuality, her bust and curves were hidden beneath the silk nightgown she wore. She was simply so beautiful that everything around her seemed dull and uninteresting by comparison.

There were countless stories on Earth about sailors who were lost at sea after being enchanted by sirens, and whenever Adam heard them, he always thought that the men who succumbed to them deserved what they got, but now he understood it. There was an almost magnetic pull about her, like she was the only thing that existed in the world. It was hard to resist, but he did. Despite her allure, Adam didn’t let it cloud his judgment. His senses warned him that she was dangerous, perhaps more so than anything he’d ever faced, and her appearance itself seemed like a weapon she used to deceive or ensnare. Worse still, there was keen intelligence and cunning burning brightly inside her eyes.

The way she was watching him, with that calmness from earlier, as though she might learn all his secrets if she just stared long enough, it was a little unsettling. He’d never met anyone able to hold eye contact as long as she did, and he fought the instinct to look away from her gaze. It felt as though she was studying him, no ... not felt, that was precisely what she was doing. From the moment he’d broken into her chamber, she’d been studying him.

“You were never asleep, were you?” Adam asked finally, his voice low.

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she moved gracefully to a small table close to her bed and took one of the seats. “I was curious about your intentions,” she said finally in a soft voice. “Whether you’d try to assassinate me ... or capture me.” An amused smile curved her lips once more. “All the while, you didn’t even know who I was.”

So, it had been a test, that didn’t surprise him too much. But what had given her the assurance that she wouldn’t be harmed by him? What made her so calm and confident even now? She definitely wasn’t naïve enough to leave herself defenseless, and simply trust the intentions of an armed stranger while alone in her room. Adam threw a subtle glance around the room, and once again, he saw that they were alone. The only other explanation was that she had magic, and it had to be incredibly powerful for her to have such belief in herself.

“And if I’d been here to assassinate you?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

She lifted her shoulders in a soft, elegant shrug. “Then we would not be having this conversation,” she replied. “Fortunately for both of us, that was never your intention.”

That was a coy answer. If he had been here to kill her, then it was simply a statement of fact that they wouldn’t be having this conversation. But whether it was because he would have succeeded in taking her life, or because he’d be dead, was the part she left out.

The answer could be either, but somehow, he sensed that the latter was more likely.

“What do you want? Why did you help me?” Adam stepped closer to the table.

She watched him approach without the slightest tension in her posture. “What I want is not something you can easily offer,” she said. “But I am very curious about you.”

Curious? His jaws clenched. Did she already know about him? That wouldn’t shock him, given all he’d already guessed about her. “Why?” His eyes tightened in suspicion.

“I suppose you could call it ... fascination,” she replied.

Adam regarded her for a moment, trying to fit the scattered pieces of the night into some kind of order. First, he had found the Hand of the King dead. Not wanting to take the fall for it, he had fled and ended up here, face-to-face with a woman who, he realized a few minutes ago, was the Queen. Her decision to help him before she knew anything had been strange, but stranger still was her reaction when she learned what had happened. After the guards had broken the news of the Hand’s death to her, she had seemed quite shocked, and he’d even feared that she might report him after all. But she hadn’t, and now, only moments later, it was as if the man’s death meant nothing at all. There was none of the shock he had witnessed earlier, no subdued sorrow, no anger. There was simply nothing.

Even if she’d secretly loathed the man and couldn’t mourn his death, he expected at least the shock aspect to remain. A loss like that must shake things up politically, and she had to be aware of that as the Queen. Yet she didn’t even seem mildly concerned. The only explanation that made sense was if she already knew it would happen, and that would mean she’d been involved in it. He didn’t bother asking himself if someone like her was capable of sanctioning a murder, she was, a hundred and ten percent she was.

But if she’d been involved in it, why protect him? Why not allow the guards capture an easy suspect to save herself any future trouble? Unless she wanted something important from him? Again, he wondered if she already knew about him before this meeting.

“Fascination?” Adam said finally and shifted to lean sideways against a wall. “You know what I think is really fascinating ... you.” For the first time ever, he saw real emotion break through, surprise flashing across her face as his tone grew sharper, more cutting. She might be a queen, she might be beautiful and deadly, but he wasn’t one of her subjects, and he didn’t scare easily. Besides, he was too tired to keep walking on eggshells. “You’ve just heard the Hand is dead. Earlier, you pretended to be shocked, now it doesn’t seem like it’s even a concern. You don’t even care that you might be speaking to his killer.”

She hesitated for a moment. “Were you his killer?” she asked.

“I wish I was, but when I found him he was already dead,” Adam answered honestly after a brief consideration. He knew that he’d just admitted to infiltrating the castle to kill the Hand of the King, but at this point he didn’t think that it mattered. “Someone else beat me to it ... probably someone here, in the castle.” His gaze never wavered from hers as the words parted from his mouth, and it was enough to get the point across.

Another flash of surprise ran across her face as she caught his veiled accusation, but she quickly smoothed her expression back into a blank mask that revealed nothing at all of the thoughts going through her head. Adam’s last words just floated unanswered in the air for a moment as she stared at him with those piercing eyes, just studying him, calculating, as though he was a new kind of human she’d never encountered before. Then, after several seconds of heavy, thoughtful silence, she found her voice once again.

“I’m quite surprised,” she said slowly and tilted her head. “First, you pointed your sword at me, a grave offense. Many would have groveled and begged for forgiveness, but you did not. Instead, you carry on as though it were nothing.” A faint, curious smile curved her lips. “And now you speak to me so casually, even going so far to accuse me of a horrible deed.” Her eyes stayed on him, bright with interest rather than anger. “You are bold.”

Adam shrugged at her words. “I’m full of surprises. Besides, I didn’t accuse you of anything. I just don’t think attending dinner parties is all you get up to.”

She let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh and leaned back into her seat. “Dinner parties, you say? They’re delightful,” she responded in a light voice. “You get to hear such interesting things ... like a strange boy who’s been causing all sorts of problems.” She gave him a pointed look, her smile stretching just a little wider ... only a little.

That answered his question, she did know about him before this meeting. The only thing left to figure out now was how. Given her utter lack of concern over the Hand’s death, he doubted they had been friends or even allies. Maybe rivals? That would certainly explain how she could know about him by observing her competition, and it also gave more weight to his suspicion that she might have been the one to actually kill him.

“As for your insinuation,” she continued, her voice still calm but now edged with a certain sharpness. “I had no hand in Lothar’s death. He was a despicable worm, and I cared little for him, but crushing a single worm amounts to nothing when the rotting corpse that continuously breeds them still exists. Though, with how thoroughly he’d sullied himself, I always suspected his end would come soon enough. It was inevitable.”

It was the first time she’d spoken without pretense, and he sensed it was a calculated return for his own open admission about sneaking into the castle to kill the Hand. Still, he believed her. A lie here would serve her no purpose.