14. Irina

Chapter fourteen

Irina

A t first, I didn't notice the change. I had become used to crowds queuing up for treatment or advice. Patients had always been kind and paid deference to those offering care. Master Rist lectured often about the dangers of thinking too highly of one's self simply because we wore a smock. He bade us to stay humble and remember our role as servants to the people.

And yet, as fall gave way to winter's touch and more of my time was spent traveling between the infirmary and the Palace, I began noticing subtle differences.

The first time a woman curtsied as I passed.

That was a respect paid only to nobles and royals. I was neither.

Even the Palace staff took my appointment as more than a simple shift of a Healer's duties. Maids doted on me everywhere I went, never letting me open a door or carry my own tools. I knew such gestures were meant with the best of intentions but couldn't stop my skin from crawling every time they occurred.

When the guards at the Palace gate snapped to attention and lowered their heads in crisp salute, I decided to seek the Queen's counsel.

Respect was one thing. Obedience was a bridge too far.

"Your Majesty, I know everyone means well, but it's uncomfortable, all the bowing and . . . well, I'm sure you know what I mean better than anyone."

"I know exactly what you mean." Queen Asin smiled and gripped my hand. She then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "If you want to know the truth, it still makes me a little uncomfortable, and I've worn a crown most of my life."

"But I don't wear a crown, and I'm not even a noble. They shouldn't bow, not to me."

Asin smirked, and I was sure she was about to share some clever scheme; but, as quickly as the expression came, it vanished, and her smile returned. "They are showing you respect. By extension, they are showing it to the King. After all, you're his Healer."

"I suppose." I wasn't sure I agreed, but who was I to disagree with the Queen? "It still makes me itch."

"You will get used to it. Most of it, anyway." Asin rose. "Join Melric and me for dinner tonight? It would be nice to have some youth at our table for a change."

I hopped to my feet. "Really? Your Majesty, I'd love to. Thank you."

As public as the Crown might be, the King and Queen were known for valuing their privacy and rarely invited anyone into their residence, much less to dine with them when there was no formal function requiring it. My mind teetered between astonishment, elation, and a burgeoning affection for my Queen.

"Good," Asin said with a knowing smile. "We will see you at seven. Please come in something more comfortable than your smock. The King and I will be very casual."

My head spun. What did one wear to dinner with the King and Queen in their private dining room? And what was the Queen's definition of casual? A gown without her jewels? Was it even possible to be casual with the royal couple?

I left the Palace with a dozen other questions racing through my mind—and a good deal of excitement over the evening to come.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't see a man in a flowing blue robe watching me pass as I exited the Palace gates.

Hours later, I practically skipped as a page led me into the royal dining room. I'd changed from my smock into a simple green dress. I was relieved to see the King in a simple, white linen shirt with long sleeves and laces that ran halfway down from his neck. The Queen had been right; I'd never seen a royal so casual or relaxed. He stood as I entered, sipping the wine a porter had filled to the brim, then grimaced as a few drops splattered across his shirt.

"Tossing wine on yourself already, dear?" the Queen quipped as she entered from the opposite side of the room. Despite wearing an unremarkable dress and no jewelry beyond the diamond on her finger, Asin glided through the small chamber with the grace and beauty of the fae found in children's fables.

I dropped into a deep curtsy and held myself low.

"Now, stop that. You are among family now. No need for a show." The King barely looked up as he dabbed his shirt with a napkin, while servants scurried to find something to remove the stain. One suggested getting the King another shirt, but Asin wouldn't hear of it. "Let him suffer. Spilling good wine is abuse of the highest order."

The servant's eyes widened as he backed away, but I caught a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I reached for a chair across the table from the royals, but Asin's hawk-like gaze stopped me.

"Not a chance, young lady. You come sit close to us." She patted the chair next to the Queen's setting. I shuffled into my seat as another attentive servant pulled my chair back.

How many servants do they have? I thought, as two more appeared to fill our glasses.

At a gesture from the Queen, I took a sip of wine. It was sweet and tasted of plums. More importantly, the light liquid sent a pleasant warmth into my chest. As thrilled as I was to be there, my nerves were abuzz.

"So, Irina," the King began, admitting defeat over his stained shirt, allowing crimson to flower across white. "How are things at the Medica these days?"

"Mel, please. Let the poor girl stop thinking about Healing for one night." The Queen shot the King a look, then turned toward me. "Tell us more about you, dear, something our court of spies does not already know."

The King chuckled as my eyes widened. "You have spies—"

"I was joking, but yes, we have lots of them," Asin said before her husband could interject.

"Oh, right. Of course, you do." I fumbled with a fork, desperate for somewhere to send my nervous energy. "Well, I spend most of my time either here or at the infirmary. There's not much to tell."

And so the royal grilling began. The Queen might've scolded the King for pressing me to talk about the infirmary, but Asin was relentless with questions around my childhood and personal life. Half the time, I could barely get an answer out before the Queen asked her next question. It was all good-natured inquisitiveness, and I was sure the woman liked me, but it was dizzying trying to keep up.

The King, used to his wife's antics, sipped his wine and watched through amused eyes.

Dinner consisted of a brothy beef stew, roasted potatoes, several preparations of greens, and loaves of freshly baked bread. While the food was hearty and filling, it was nothing like the spread we'd enjoyed at my elevation to Crown Healer. The King apologized for the peasant fare, claiming they usually ate so richly they thought it nice to take a night off from that, too, once in a while. I thought it was one of the tastiest, most lavish meals I'd had in years. The simplicity of the royal couple's lives I witnessed behind the veil of the Crown made me appreciate and like the pair even more.

And yet, simple did not mean sparse. Servants placed more food than we could eat in a week on the table, and wine flowed more freely than melted snow down the Spires in Spring. By the time dessert was served, my nerves had calmed. From the reflection of candlelight in the King's glassy eyes, he and the Queen were tipsy.

When the King began telling jokes, Asin tried to intervene, but I begged him to continue. We laughed through tears as servants cleared the plates, leaving only dessert wines in thumb-sized goblets.

"Irina, we have had such a wonderful time tonight," Asin said. "We would love to see more of you, if you are willing to join us from time to time."

"Oh, Your Majesty, I'd love that. You're not at all what I—"

The last of my statement stuck in my throat as the Queen lifted a brow.

"Everyone thinks she's a sharp-tongued devil." The King snorted.

Asin slapped his arm.

"Well, they do!" He earned another slap.

I failed to stifle a giggle, and the three of us lost ourselves in the moment again.

Until the Queen gripped her chest and tumbled to the stone floor.

"Asin!" the King screamed.

I shoved back my chair and threw myself to the ground beside the Queen. Light flared from my palms, turning the dimly lit room into a core of sunlight.

Servants raced out of the room, desperate to find help.

Silver-plated guards raced in.

The room transformed from a place of light-hearted banter into an angry anthill of activity.

I threw all of my focus into the Queen. "NO!" I screamed as my Light flared even brighter. Several guards staggered back. Servants shielded their eyes.

I pressed two fingers into Asin's neck, then laid my head against her chest, desperate for the sound of a heartbeat.

There was none.

The Queen was dead.